Chapter 6-2: How Pain Begins

As I circled around, I saw a young boy had his sights set on Bob who was still trying to figure out how to go forward. He stepped on the pedal one last time and his car again went backwards just as the kid rammed him from behind and his totally relaxed head went from looking down to flying all the way back with loud cracking and popping sounds resonating in his neck, head and ears. Bob’s first thought from the sound was that he had broken his neck, but then he realized that his head was still upright and, on his shoulders, so maybe it wasn’t broken. I had watched in horror as he was whiplashed back then forward. I could tell he was hurting.

All he wanted to do was get out of the car before he was hit again. I jumped out of my car and rushed over to him as he stumbled out of the car and I guided him slowly off the floor and back into the fair ground.  The music continued to blare and his attacker, a gleeful little boy was still zooming around the track in his bumper car oblivious to the damage he had just delivered to my husband’s neck.

Wildwood Pier

It was now one a.m. in the morning and the crowds were thinning at Wildwood Park. I’m not one for regrets but all these years later there have been days when I wished we could go back in time and walk past the bumper cars, out into the deserted streets back to our dingy motel room. But then life never does quite unfurl the way you plan.