Lark
in
the
Park
by Dick Emmons
For reasons that are now completely
obscure to me, I recently took
our three prides and joys to an
amusement park a misnomer if ever I
heard one. Rather than do it again, I
would face a firing squad. Without a
blindfold or final cigarette.
Showing a heretofore unsuspected
streak of cowardice, my wife, Helen,
begged off when the excursion trip came
due. I've forgotten her exact excuse, but
I think she mumbled something about
having 11 of the girls in for bridge that
afternoon. When I proposed that she
cancel the party in favor of a wholesome
family outing, she confided that she also
had a touch of bubonic plague and
hesitated to spread it throughout North
America by visiting a public playground.
"I'll take the kids by myself, then," I
gritted, "but when we get back, if it's
still light, I'm going to get in nine holes
of golf while you baby-sit."
"It's a deal!" she replied, almost too
eagerly, it seemed to me.
As soon as the six-year-old twins, our
ten-year-old girl, and I arrived at the
Land of Enchantment that was the
park's name I began to sense anew how
despicably shrewd my wife is.
"I wanna ride the merry-go-round!"
Davie yelped, jerking me thither.
"I wanna ride the ponies!" Dickie
hollered, jerking me thather.
"It's the roller coaster for me!" Ann
sang out cheerily.
"Tell you what," I started, "why don't
we look the place over before we decide
which ride to start on and then " The
jerking on my arms stopped as the twins
scampered off in opposite directions.
"You trail Dickie!" I shouted to Ann,
breaking into a run after Davie, "See
you at the Ferris wheel!"
After three rides on a black charger,
a zebra, and a cougar I got Dave off
the merry-go-round and started out in
search of Dickie.
"Have you seen a small boy wearing
khaki pants and a brown-and-white
T-shirt?" I asked the man operating the
Ferris wheel.
The man looked at me narrowly.
"Sure, Mister, he's standing right beside
you, large as life."
I glanced down at Davie. "I mean an
other one. Just like this one."
"He's up there." The man pointed sky
ward and my heart jumped when I saw
Dickie and Ann at the very top of the
Ferris wheel, waving deliriously at us.
"Come down this instant!" I roared.
Then I thought better of that and called,
"No, stay there, wait until the man
brings you down!"
As soon as we were reunited, the three
of them broke for a refreshment stand
and I ordered a round of cotton candy.
"Now, then, let's take a vote," I sug
gested. "Everyone who's ready to call it
a day and go home, raise his hand!"
Only one arm shot up, so I lowered it
reluctantly as Ann drew three votes for
a ride on the Caterpillar.
In no time we were wedged into a car
seat on the Caterpillar, the canvas top
came down over us, and we were being
hurtled at terrific speed over an uneven,
circular course. Such was the centrifugal
force that by the time we emerged I was
cotton candy from the waist up.
Things got a bit disjointed after that,
but I recall some terrifying moments in
the Fun House, the Hall of Mirrors, and
a gruesome ride on something called the
Whip. When it was over, I was not a
broken man, but I confess that I was
badly bent here and there.
Using three gas-filled balloons as
bribes, I finally lured my charges into
the car and drove home.
"And how was the Land of Enchant
ment?" my wife trilled.
"Great!" chorused the kids.
"Grim," I muttered.
"It's still light," my wife chuckled,
"I'll stay with the children while you
play nine holes, dear."
I glared at her. "As you well know, I
haven't the strength to sink a tee in the
ground. I'm going to bed. Call me when
Summer is over."
Family Weekly. My 20. 1 1
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