Beneath the Bonfire by Nickolas Butler Page A

watching a bad home recording, images jerking and bouncing. She stopped screaming and focused on breathing. Beside her, Harrison was cheering. The ride spun, as if a corkscrew shot from some giant cannon, and they twisted upside down repeatedly, Kat’s hair in her face, spare change dropping out of her blue jeans and plunking loudly against the steel car.
    And then the ride slowed and came to a stop at the same platform where they had boarded.
    â€œThat was amazing!” Harrison said.
    The harnesses all lifted in a hiss of hydraulics and they were free to depart, but she could see that the lone rider up ahead remained where he was.
    â€œWant to ride again?” Kat asked.
    Harrison smiled, punched her lightly in the arm. “You’re kidding me, right? You were, like, dying back there!” He laughed.
    â€œWell, anyway,” she said, ignoring him, “I’m staying.”
    â€œSeriously? All right! All right! All right! Awesome!”
    The harnesses dropped back down into place and they rocked forward. She was focused on Pieter’s head, his rigid shoulders, the hands she could not see, but knew must be resting in his lap, as if he were at church. The roller coaster began its climb, then rattled down and around its course, Harrison giggling and screaming, his voice high-pitched as a girl’s. Kat’s eyes remained trained on the back of Pieter’s head. He never moved.
    It wasn’t as bad the second time around—the loop-de-loops, the hairpin turns, the three-g drops. And it wasn’t long before the roller coaster returned to its station; Pieter unmoving.
    â€œCome on,” Kat said to Harrison, “we’re moving up to the front, where it’s scarier.”
    â€œAwesome,” he agreed.
    As they installed themselves immediately behind Pieter, Kat leaned forward before the braces came down and said into his ear, “You all right up there? You haven’t moved in a half hour.”
    He started, which had the effect of startling her too, and turned to look at her. He was very handsome, the bones of his face well-defined. There were tears on his face.
    â€œOh, you’re crying,” Kat said. “I’m sorry.”
    â€œIt’s okay,” he said. “It’s just the cold. I can’t help it.” And then “I’m also a little high.”
    The harnesses came down again and they were off, racing through the pale slate sky, their voices alternating between shrieks, obscenities, and laughter. The world began to slow as they became accustomed to the reckless speed of the ride. Kat watched the landscape below: janitors chasing blowing garbage, vendors eating clouds of cotton candy, security guards smoking cigarettes. She watched Pieter’s head: his thick hair, the corded muscles of his neck, his perfectly shaped ears, like the shells of some beautiful species of snail.
    Finally Pieter rose from the ride, his legs for the briefest of moments wobbly. She watched him go toward a bathroom, where he disappeared. Harrison, beside her, almost uncontrollable with glee.
    â€œI heard you say fuck !” he said, punching her stomach and laughing. “You’re the best aunt ever!”
    She watched the restroom pavilion, its door marked MEN . Her heart, suddenly light, lost, unbound—how?
    â€œWhat?” Harrison asked. “Think he’s gonna puke or something?”
    â€œLet’s go see,” she said. They walked toward the restrooms, sitting on a bench, Harrison’s body beside her, electric with excitement and trembling with the cold. She felt his yet-boy body beside hers.
    Pieter came out of the restroom, wiping his lips and forehead with a sheet of brown paper toweling. Kat stood from the bench but did not approach him. Suddenly her voice would not work and she could not recall her own bravery on the roller coaster, her ability there to speak to this beautiful man.
    â€œSo, did you ralph in there or