Jeff Wells - Anxious Gravity: A Novel

Anxious
Gravity

For Raina

A heaven on earth I have won, by wooing thee.

William Shakespeare, Alls Well That Ends Well

A Novel

Jeff Wells

Copyright Jeff Wells 2001

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise (except for brief passages for purposes of review) without the prior permission of Dundurn Press. Permission to photocopy should be requested from the Canadian Copyright Licensing Agency.

Editor: Barry Jowett
Copy-editor: Julian Walker
Design: Bruna Brunelli
Printer: Transcontinental

Canadian Cataloguing in Publication Data

Wells, Jeff, 1959
Anxious gravity: a novel

ISBN 0-88924-299-2

I. Title.

PS8595.E5566A75 2001 C813.52 C2001-902250-6
PR9199.4.W44A65 2001

1 2 3 4 5 05 04 03 02 01

We acknowledge the support of the Canada Council for the Arts and the Ontario Arts Council for our publishing program. We also acknowledge the financial support of the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program and The Association for the Export of Canadian Books, and the Government of Ontario through the Ontario Book Publishers Tax Credit program.

Care has been taken to trace the ownership of copyright material used in this book. The author and the publisher welcome any information enabling them to rectify any references or credit in subsequent editions.

J. Kirk Howard, President

Printed and bound in Canada.
Printed on recycled paper.
www.dundurn.com

It came from mine own heart, so to my head,
And thence into my fingers trickled;
Then to my pen, from whence immediately
On paper I did dribble it daintily.

John Bunyan, The Holy War

A joke is the epigram on the death of a feeling.

Friedrich Nietzsche

Gideon Frye was my uncle, my mothers elder brother, a I gunner in a Lancaster bomber during the Second World War. He was my grandmothers favourite, his incendiary death in the night sky over the Eder Dam in 43 only compounding her prejudice. To me he wasnt much more than musty clothes and nondescript oddments packed tight, in a swampy-smelling trunk tucked behind the furnace. That, and a few hand-tinted photographs set in silver frames on my mothers bureau before she moved out, was all he was to me. But he was also the reason I was named Gideon.

One photo was from wartime my uncle smiling broadly and squinting into the lens, stripped to the waist, lying on the wing of his plane with his palms cradling the back of his head. I suppose less was expected of a mans body in those days, and perhaps the prospect of a sudden, bloody death made scrawny guys less inhibited about taking off their shirts, but its a wonder a fella could go to war and still look like a pushover.

The other picture had been taken shortly before hed left for England, and served him better. He was wearing spiffy black oxfords, brown, wide-wale corduroys, and a rumpled white shirt beneath a copper-coloured wool vest my grandmother had knit. He was grinning as though it were V-E Day, with his spindly arms thrown around his Mom and his wife, with his 10-year old sister, my mother, in the middle. They were standing in a crowded midway, beside an amusement ride that resembled an open, inverted umbrella with candy cane striping. Buckets hanging from its metal joints were filled with girls pretending to be scared paired with boys pretending not to be. My grandmother told me how the umbrella would open and close as it creaked about, the buckets swinging wildly from the horizontal to the perpendicular with the movement of its joints. Aye, she said, that was a fine ride. Biggest damn umbrella evers been.

Before the war my uncle had designed amusement rides. He was just 20 when his idea for the Devils Umbrella was sold to Francis Suchmann Pastimes (later to become Krazy Ways Inc., one of the North American midways seven sisters). It wasnt long before he received the green light for his first rollercoaster, the Eager Beaver, to be erected on the grounds of the Canadian National Exhibition. Frye had no interest in engineering or cost feasibility; Suchmann paid others, poorly, to worry about that. All he had was an intuitive sense for what made people drop a quarter to cheerfully wish they were dead. In those days of blitzkrieg, that counted for something.

And it had to be intuitive. From his childhood Gideon had refused all rides, including his own. Our Gid didnt like to be spun about, Nanny said. He had a tender belly ever since I dropped the cat on him that once. She also told me, with the smile of someone who couldnt quite believe she once cared about such nonsense, that shed fiercely objected to the name Devils Umbrella. But the decision had rested with Mr Suchmann, so she hadnt held it against her boy.

I remember a very heavy, very black, leather-bound Bible in my uncles trunk. It was Nannys. There were two inscrip tions on its blotting paper The first: Dear Alma: Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good Rom, 12:21. Love Sarah Christmas, 1922. (I wish Id thought to ask who Sarah was.) The second was dated July 13, 1935, on the occasion of your 16th birthday He will not suffer thy foot to be moved; he that keepeth thee will not slumber. Ps. 121:3. Love always, Mum. Pressed between the pages of Second Corinthians was a yellowed clipping from the Toronto Telegram:Mimico Lass Beats the Beaver:

Young Elfie Wheatmore may be many things, but queasy she most definitely is not. As visitors to the Canadian National Exhibition can attest, riding the Eager Beaver but once takes a stalwart belly, but for a girl of 18 to test her intestines from sun up to sun down, every day but Sunday for three weeks, takes the kind of stamina that could teach Mr Hitler a thing or two about the indomitable Canadian spirit should he have the stomach for it!

The Beavers different every time, Elfie told us. If it wasnt, I would have stopped long ago. I bore easily!

Elfies devotion to the Eager Beaver caught the eye of Exhibition officials, who arranged for Elfie to meet the amusements designer, Torontos own Mr Gideon Frye. Frye, 21, is something of a sensation in the world of the midway, where many old carny salts have taken to calling the local lad The Wizard of Ahhhs.

Im delighted, of course, that Elfie finds my little ride so compelling, said Frye. Its for people like her, after all, that Im doing this sort of thing.

Elfies day ended with what else? a spin on the Beaver. This time accompanied by her new friend, the Wizard. One guess who didnt look green about the gills at rides end!