The Ink Well Prompt Link
Prompt Word: Doorway
Paul walked behind us, looking at the park map on his phone. “Hey, did you see Paul’s girlfriend back by the swings?” I said this to Garrett, but loud enough to get a rise out of Paul.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” Paul replied in a dull tone while still looking down at his phone. He spoke matter of factly, because it was the truth. Naomi wasn’t his girlfriend; just a heartbreaker who’d flirted and captured his attention, only to reveal she was dating a guy from another school. Garrett and I continued to walk ahead of him, eagerly looking around for our next adventure.
“Oh, the mirror maze doesn’t have a line.” Garrett pointed as he ran toward it. I turned and looked at Paul, who looked up from his phone.
“Yea, that’s because it’s lame,” Paul scoffed, rolling his eyes. He still followed us as we zig-zagged through the chains of the empty queue and hopped up onto the stairs, through the doorway to begin our quest. Garrett lifted himself on the stairway railings and hurled himself up, hopping over the stairs and jumping onto the landing. This prompted the ride attendant to look over and give him a stern look. She brought her radio up to her mouth and mumbled something inaudible; most likely warning the attendant inside that some rowdy boys were on their way in. Keep an eye on the kid in the blue shirt." I imagined her saying.
I needed to top Garrett’s obnoxious entrance by running in and jumping up to touch the red shoe of the clown hanging in the hallway above the second archway. We walked through, and that’s where an endless view of more archways began. Our hands extended out as we turned in various directions feeling for mirror walls that were there to purposely deceive us. Each archway was decorated in various neon-colored shapes: diamonds, circles, triangles. Altogether, they created a mosaic which created a chaotic kaleidoscope effect once bounced off the mirrors. Garrett spun around while making a silly face, pretending he was lost, while looking back at Paul. This mocked both the maze and Paul, who showed disdain toward our choice of amusement by strolling slowly behind us looking down at his phone. He strolled passively behind us as we discovered the hidden walkways among the counterfeit. He was right; it was lame. But, Halfway through the maze, there was no point in turning back. At this point, our only aim was to taunt his sullen behavior. We burst out laughing as we hid around a corner and he ran straight into a wall while looking down at his phone.
“Hey guys,” he called after us. “Towering Twister closes at four.” We both stared at him with blank expressions, not sure why he was telling us this. “It’s three fifty-five.”
There were no more words spoken. The three of us looked around at each other and dashed in various directions toward what we thought was the best path toward the exit. Of course, haste makes waste, but we didn’t know this at the time. Our frantic efforts to find our way out wasted our most valuable asset: time. Our commotion, arguing, running into each other as we went every which way; it wasted our precious minutes.
“It’s this way, idiot,” I said.
“No, dipshit,” Garrett replied.
“No, look.” Paul pointed emphatically as he went between two mirrors.
We ran into our savior wearing a hat and red polo shirt. “Where’s the exit?” we asked desperately. She remained completely composed, while chewing her gum with her mouth open, and used her radio antenna to point to her left. After more commotion, bickering, and running into a few walls, we saw the rhinestone lights on the Ferris wheel twinkling in the sunlight; the movement of the Ali Baba rotating into sight occasionally. All this was framed by the circle of a cosmic tunnel we had to walk through on our way out.
“There it is!” The three of us stumbled through the tunnel toward the exit and jumped dramatically down from the stairs and onto the pavement. The outside ride attendant looked in our direction briefly, before turning to look straight ahead; relieved we were off her hands.
“It’s that way!” yelled Paul, pointing down an asphalt path past the row of food stands.
We ran around the swinging Viking ship, then saw the painted Towering Twister building straight ahead in the distance.
The three of us ran toward the Twister, dodging through the crowds and slow walkers on the path. As we passed a funnel cake stand, a group of people stood out to us, and Paul slowed down and turned to one person in particular as she smiled at him: Naomi. Garrett and I continued to run backwards as we shouted for him to hurry along. He didn’t talk to Naomi, he just stood there looking back and forth between us and her, then at the cotton candy she was holding; as though he was hesitating. Then he made a bold move. It must have been the adrenaline rush of our dash to the Twister ride mixed with underlying resentment toward his crush. He grabbed a huge handful of cotton candy off her cone and kept running. The three of us ran toward the Towering Twister laughing hysterically; cheering Paul on.
There was no time to properly walk through the long metal chain queue. As Garrett and I hopped over the side chain to reach the front door, a ride attendant came out of a nearby closet and pointed toward the closed door. “Sorry, we’re closed up for the day,” he said. It was exactly four o’clock.
Paul had eaten the cotton candy, but now had sticky blue sugar all over his hands. He wiped his hands on his jean shorts and scoffed in disbelief at our futile attempt. Then he looked to his left and saw a group of guys and girls, including Naomi, hurrying toward the Towering Twister.
“Oh come on,” I said to the ride attendant, slightly whining. I didn’t need to tell him we’d just run there, since our heavy breathing and sweating made it obvious.
“Alright,” the ride attendant said abruptly, making a hurry-up gesture with his hand and reaching to open the door. As he held open the door for us to go through, Paul jumped over the chain and came through the door with us. He turned back to see if the group of guys and girls made it over and I saw him look up at Naomi. The two of them exchanged a look that was broken by the ride attendant slamming the door behind us.
“Sorry, guys, ride’s closed for the day,” I could slightly hear him saying to the group outside.
We walked upstairs and entered another door to the loading platform. I screamed down the giant hill of the Towering Twister, while I envisioned the chicken parm my mom said she was making for dinner later that evening.
Image Source: My Own Photography of a Drawing I did
