The Bumper Car Incident

“I have known Greg and Alyssa my whole life.” Chauncey spilled his drink while gesturing wildly towards the bride and groom. “Mostly Greg, but both… Greg is my cousin. His mother is my mother’s mother—I mean sister.” Chauncey apparently had mothers on the mind. It was true that they were cousins on his mother’s side; but they had never been close. People were shocked the normally quiet and reserved Chauncey was speaking at all. However, no one was more surprised than Greg. Chauncey and Greg had not had a positive relationship since the bumper car incident.

“Greg… you are a real son of a bitch you know that.” Chauncey looked right at him with hatred in his eyes. There was too long of a pause before he caught himself. “No offense Aunt Carolyn.” Chauncey took a moment and looked around for her apologetically before refocusing on the task at hand. “Greg, I have always known you were a bastard. Ever since that time at bumper cars.”

Greg and Chauncey were about nine and seven years old respectively. Their mothers had brought them to the closest amusement park for a day of summer fun. The difference in age was reflected in their size and attitudes. Greg treated Chauncey like less than a little brother. He constantly challenged him. Pushed him towards trying things he was not ready for and then mocking him relentlessly no matter how he did. Bumper cars were one of those things.

Chauncey was a perpetually scared child. To him, the idea that anyone would enjoy a vehicle accelerating at them with the express intent of colliding was madness. Initially, he swore up and down there was no way he was going to do it. Then Greg’s mocking began. It was a barrage of “chicken” and “baby” that no seven-year-old boy was capable of ignoring. It was a cycle that had repeated itself all throughout the day. Roller coasters and spinning ships and teacups and even climbing to strange parts of a candy dinosaur themed jungle gym. Each step taken by Chauncey as he surrendered to peer pressure time and again led to nothing but a new insult and a new goal post for him to aim at. However, only once they got into the bumper car arena, the real trouble started.

“I always thought of Greg as an older brother. At least I did back then. That day, he had egged me on and on to come and ride the bumper cars. It would be fun, he assured me.” Chauncey was surprisingly coherent now. The liquor faded into the background of a man filled with a boy’s rage. “Anyway, I climbed in. I strapped in. The operator gave us a countdown. When the electricity kicked in, we were off. At least we were supposed to be.”

“I think I skipped over an important detail.” Chauncey was finding his feet. He had begun to walk around with the microphone directing different sentences at different faces in the crowd. “Did I mention I was seven years old? No one really explained to me how these cars worked, or really how any car worked. That wasn’t a part of Greg’s pep talk.” Chauncey looked back at Greg with barely contained fury. “So, I sat there, looking at the pedals. I didn’t even look up. I never saw him coming.” The mood was turning. The people in the crowd were invested.

“Greg came careening around the corner, full speed from behind. His red car.” Chauncey scrunched his face up in disgust as the words continued to pour out of his mouth. “I didn’t have a chance… He crashed into me. Not just once. It couldn’t be just once. He backed up and hit me again and again. He slowly, and methodically, pushed me towards the corner and just kept bumping. Over and over and over.” Chauncey’s head sank and he looked at the floor. Members of the crowd were certain he shed at least one tear. “I was helpless! For the entire bumper car ride. They say now it was only five minutes, but I promise it felt like eternity. I was crying. Everyone was staring. My mother did nothing.” Chauncey turned towards his mother and so did everyone else.

It was not a very fair way to air this grievance, but here they were. Alyssa was mortified. Her face conveyed the reality of her situation. A bride in a wedding where the air had been entirely sucked out of the reception by the drunken rant of a scorned middle schooler. The maid-of-honor was glaring at the best man, wondering why he had not intervened the second Chauncey started ranting. It was all too late now. “Then the white elephant gift exchange when I was ten!” The maid-of-honor had had it. Elizabeth stormed forward to get the mic.

“Okay! Chauncey, that is enough”

“I am not done.” Chauncey held an arm out to fend her off. “He knew I wanted the—” Elizabeth pulled at his arms and shirt, trying anything to get the microphone away. “Elizabeth, let me finish!” Chauncey pushed her, violently, and she fell to the ground.

“Chauncey!” Greg was done. “What the hell are you doing! You think this is the time or place for one of your episodes? You are lucky I invited you at all you sniveling little—” Greg realized he was in polite company. “Get the hell out of my wedding! I never want to see you again.”

Chauncey was running away from him with the microphone in his hand; continuing his roast. “I would like to raise a glass to the bride and her ape of a man. Is anyone surprised how quickly Greg jumped to action to protect Elizabeth? No? Why is that? I thought I was the only one who knew he was sleeping with her!” All of the groomsmen sprang to their feet and began to corner Chauncey between table eight and twelve. Greg tackled him, lowering his shoulder to inflict maximum damage on his ribs.

As Greg buried fist after fist into the sides of Chauncey’s head he could not help but smile. In many ways, this too reminded him of the bumper cars.