A day at the Dalesville Carnival

Sticky, pink liquid flowed on to my hand as we walked through the park, licking our popsicles along the way. The hottest day of the summer, and our popsicles were melting quicker than the flies were buzzing around our heads.

"Look!" My sister shouted. She was pointing toward a sign that read, "DALESVILLE CARNIVAL". She ran to the sign. "Can we go, can we go?" She tugged on my mother's arm.

"Fine, but finish your popsicle first, Cassandra." I looked around the park lawn, and spotted a bench in the shade. A family was walking toward it. I sped to the bench, and quickly sat down. The family walked past me. I called to Cassandra.

"Over here!" She came running over, her popsicle dripping on to the cool grass.

"Wow, great spot, Nellie!" She exclaimed.

"Thanks!", I replied, and we sat on the bench, swinging our legs and eating our popsicles under the shade. My popsicle got smaller and smaller as I licked it, and soon two sticks were in the trash. Our dog, Ruth, was licking up the melted popsicle puddles on the ground as we walked to the carnival, laughing and talking all the way.

We soon entered the gates to the carnival, and the smell of cotton candy filled the air. We walked over to the ticket stand and got a roll of tickets.

"What would you like to do first?" My mother inquired.

"Bumper cars!" Cassandra yelled.

"Roller coaster!" I called.

So we ran through the carnival, riding each ride. Bumper cars, roller coasters, and mega slides. Fun houses, swings, and merry-go-rounds. Soon we came to the last ride. It towered over us, the biggest ride of the carnival-the Ferris wheel. We got in the line, and we waited. And waited. After what seemed like forever, we were loaded into a light blue gondola, a number twelve in white at the top. We peered over the edge, despite mother telling us not to, just to see the city down below.

"We are almost at the top!" Cassandra exclaimed, and she was right. Around, and around, and around we went, until our light blue gondola was perched at the top of the Ferris wheel. We could see the entire city, the blue sky above it, and the sandy beaches beyond. And it was beautiful. I took a picture with my camera. Slowly, slowly, the gondola went back down. I saw Ruth waiting eagerly for us to return, her tongue hanging out of her mouth. I wanted so badly to get off the Ferris wheel right that moment, to run to Ruth, scratch her behind her ears, and rub her belly. The Ferris wheel is only good at the top. But alas, the gondola was slowly inching toward the ground, and another ten minutes would go by before we were off. Inching slowly, slowly inching, until finally, we were off the wheel. I ran down the ramp, ran to Ruth, who was still panting, her tongue still hanging from her mouth. I scratched her behind her ears, took off my flip flops, ran, and played fetch in the soft, cool grass. Cassandra came running and did the same. Mother did not. She decided to sit on a bench and look at her phone instead. After walking home-but not before hours and hours of playing with Ruth- we had a barbecue outside. My dad grilled hamburgers, and we made smores. I don’t know why some people like to burn them-*cough* DAD *cough*-I like mine perfectly golden brown. I ran down to our firepit and helped dad light a fire. I ripped open a bag of marshmallows, spearing one on my skewer. I carefully toasted-not burned- three marshmallows, broke three graham crackers in half, and broke three squares of chocolate. After me, the smores master, was finished, I had three perfect smores, to eat all by myself. I couldn’t be happier. Cassandra had perfectly toasted hers. I am passing down the smore master crown to her. Her smore looked like an ad! After many smores, Cassandra and I caught fireflies. We poked holes in the lids of jars, so the fireflies we caught could breathe. Then we released them into the wilderness, but not after making firefly lanterns. We took turns pushing each other on our rickety old playset, and Dad almost broke a swing. I am so sad he missed the carnival, but he was at work. 

“I have to go inside for a moment, girls. Save me a swing!” Dad called from the porch. 

“Why did he go inside?” Cassandra asked. I shrugged.

“Beats me.”

So we played tag for a while, played fetch with Ruth, and rode our bikes around the block. Dad still didn’t come out. So………… We had a dance battle, held a water balloon fight, swang on the swings some more, played cornhole, ate another smore, caught more fireflies, released more fireflies, went to the creek by our house, made boats and raced them, and finally, Dad emerged from the house, carrying a long and narrow box. 

“This, girls, is my great grandfather’s telescope!” He proceeded to tell us all about his grandfather, how to set up a telescope, and how he had looked through this very telescope when he was a boy. Twenty minutes later, a faded yellow telescope was set up in our yard, my father dusting the lens. He peered through the telescope and turned a small knob at the top.

“It’s focused!” He called. Cassandra and I took turns looking into the sky for hours. The moon was full, and the grass was soft and cool under my scratched and bruised feet. Things like that happen in the summer. It just shows that you are having loads of fun. I wasn’t aware of how late it had gotten until I laid on my back in the grass, staring up into the stars above. And really, the hottest day of the summer wasn’t that bad. Just as bad as a melting popsicle.