Father's Day: A Journey Into the Mind and Heart of My Extraordinary Son by Buzz Bissinger

Author:Buzz Bissinger [Bissinger, Buzz]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Autobiography, Biography, Children With Special Needs, Family & Relationships, Fatherhood, Non-Fiction, Parenting, Personal Memoirs
ISBN: 9780547816562
Google: SUCnl2iAD54C
Amazon: B005LVQZBQ
Publisher: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt
Published: 2012-04-14T23:00:00+00:00

II

We sit across from each other at a blue Formica table. He eats French fries and I eat a foot-long hot dog with a crumbling bun that leaves bits of soaky mustard on my shirt. It is only a matter of time before I become the official Six Flags mascot, unshaven, barely belted, flecked with mustard like some rare skin disorder. We are done for the day after seven hours. We need to head to Oklahoma so we can make Texas by tomorrow.

We walk to the exit. I see a ride I haven’t noticed before. It is called Dragon’s Wing. You are hoisted 153 feet high to the top of a crane. Then you pull a ripcord and basically bungee jump in a horrific free fall. I make a terrible error in judgment.

—You want to try it?

—Yeah.

Wrong answer.

—It’s dangerous, Zach.

—Yeah.

—We could get killed.

—Yeah.

—I don’t think your mother would like you to go on this.

—Yeah.

—It’s really dangerous. Are you sure you want to try it?

—I’m sure.

I am screwed.

The line moves far faster than I thought. I see other people do the ride. I ask them what it’s like as they get off.

—Just don’t pull the ripcord.

I once again gauge Zach’s willingness to go on this thing.

—Hey, Zach, do you want to pull the ripcord?

—No.

—I don’t think this is a good idea. I really don’t.

—Yeah.

—Do you want to get hurt?

—I don’t want to get hurt.

—Are you sure you really want to do this?

—I’m sure.

—All right, fine. We’ll fucking do it.

—Okay.

—But it’s stupid.

—Okay.

—We went on every other ride today. What’s the point of doing this one?

—I don’t know I just want to do it.

—What does that mean?

—I just want to do it.

I can handle the roller coasters and the like. I have been on them many times before and have learned to brace myself for the worst. I have never been hoisted up by a crane and then dropped. Why would I? Why would anyone?

We put on our bondage outfits, which resemble wetsuits with Velcro straps and strategically placed hooks. We are yoked together tightly so that we face each other, nose to nose. A cord is attached to the hooks and we are slowly hoisted to the top of the crane. At the top, two workers stand on a little perch. It’s hard to hear them, but I think they’re talking about hair, or nails. Through their headsets, they get clearance from down below. They count down for us.

—Three . . . two . . . one . . . Go.

Fuck it . . .

I pull the ripcord . . .

We free-fall, our bodies initially parallel to the ground that rushes toward us. My arms are wrapped around Zach. His arms are wrapped around me. His eyes are closed. Mine are open. We fall faster than I thought possible. My mouth is dry. The churn of nausea in my stomach travels upward with far too much speed. We miss the roof of the entrance by what seems like inches. I can feel Zach holding me tightly.

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