Chapter 3: "We're going to make your dreams come true..."

And when we stopped, she was holdin' hands with me...
My heart was flyin' up, like a rocket ship
Down, like a roller coaster
Back, like a Loop the Loop
And around, like a merry go round...

Tara laughed as her third shot in a row, at the Rifle Range game, whiffed past the lollipop target.

"I thought secret agents were sharpshooters," Johnny chided. "Are you missing on purpose, to pump up my male ego?"

"Your ego won't get any pumping from me," she replied. She cocked a practiced eye at the air gun. "These sights are so crooked, you couldn't hit your own house from inside." She handed the piece back to the vendor, and instinctively touched her purse.

"A prize for the lady anyway!" the booth man grandly announced, and presented Tara with a chubby blue panda bear. "The last day, you know," and he winked at Johnny. "Might as well clear 'em out."

She examined it, with a raised eyebrow. "Reminds me of someone I talked with this morning." She bestowed her thanks, and they set off again.

Further along, wanting her hands free, she gifted the bear to a young girl with a brunette bob, by the Jungle Land attraction (with mum's permission). The girl's innocent delight warmed Tara's own heart, and she visibly relaxed. Presenting an easy, unguarded beauty that Johnny couldn't help stealing glances of. As they walked on, he took advantage of her freed hands to casually take one of them in his. "So we look natural," he explained, with a sober nod. Tara hesitated a second; then let her fingers intertwine.

Rounding towards the landward side of the park, they strolled past the Flight to Mars with its bizarre artwork, the Loop-the-Loop, and the "World's largest" saltwater pool – a boast of the park for decades. (And Johnny did imagine his guardian in a swimsuit, wonderfully wet, lounging beside it.) He seemed to know half the booth operators by name, and almost all the ride jockeys. Not to mention the history of anything and everything. It felt to Tara like she was being shown through Buckingham Palace by Prince Philip himself.

Next was the Merry-Go-Round, one of the grandest in North America. The brilliant racehorses, on gleaming brass poles, brought back memories more than anything else so far. She flashed back to riding aboard a plunging palomino at Battersea, alongside her brother, as the fairground organ boomed – and looking back to see their parents kissing on the ornate bench behind them. And her brother yelling at her to "Stop peeking!"

They continued down the west concourse, and she could feel other memories, other connections, starting to link in her mind... starting to draw her in. But she was on duty, and resisted the thoughts – although she had to touch her cheek once, for just a moment.

Finally they stopped to watch the Cyclone, the park's famous roller coaster. It was a huge wooden scaffolding that stretched half the length of the park boundary, and made a terrific racket when the cars passed. "The original was the Skyrocket, in 1923," Johnny duly related during a lull in the noise. "It burned down in 1944, and this was built with the remains. It's a great trip!"

But Tara had already declared she would not go on any rides, bodyguard duties or not. "If you want to do something, go ahead. I'll wait for you at the exit ramp, like a good parent."

"Well, my parents are in Chicago, and they've been here a lot more than me. But I'm glad you're here today." Nonetheless, riding alone wasn't his idea of fun; and he'd done everything a hundred times before. So he was fine with staying at ground level.

Although he did take note of one particular structure towering in the distance – for later on.

And when I could, I gave that girl a hug –
In the Tunnel of Love...!

After another circuit of the concourses, they were sitting on a yellow-lacquered bench across from the Music Pavilion. Johnny was finishing his second Coney dog. Tara was just opening a fresh box of popcorn. She had certainly kept up all day, and it was Johnny needing the break. He rested his eyes a minute, as he listened to the ambient music. Thinking about the day – and other things. Then he looked around again, at the passing scene. "One ride I never saw – but wish I had – was the Tunnel of Love. Ever heard of it?"

"In old movies," Tara replied, with a shrug. "Do they still have them? Seems rather old-fashioned for nowadays."

"They had one here, in the Forties and Fifties. It's in the song. But you're right, it's long gone now. I've only seen pictures. It used to be right behind where we're sitting now." Tara hitched sideways, and looked over her shoulder. He continued, "I always dreamed about taking a girl, a special girl, on —" And Tara, still gazing back, interrupted: "Was the front red and yellow? And have a big sign on top? Written with curvy letters?" She danced her hand in the air, as she said "curvy".

"Uh, yes. It did," Johnny replied, puzzled at the leading questions.

"Was there a heart on the ticket booth?"

"Yes..." He planted his palms, and drew himself erect on the bench.

"And boats, with colored pennants on them?"

Now he turned to face her, more puzzled than ever. Not comprehending what was happening. Or how. She looked back at him, with an odd, mischievous smile.

And winked.

"Then let's take a ride."

Johnny swung a glance behind them – and read the cursive sign, above the colorful entrance. And saw the heart on the booth. He turned further around, his glance turning into a stare. The red-and-gold pennants, the old park colors, fluttered on wooden wands above each entering boat. The lazy, rhythmic music drifted towards them, like an invitation.

Tara smiled wider... looking right at Johnny. It was a look of promise, and pleasure – and abandon. She lifted a hand, and her fingertips touched the side of his face. Holding his gaze.

He couldn't turn away from her eyes; away from that wanton smile. She leaned close, and whispered in his ear, "We're going to make your dreams come true." Her warm, sensuous breath speaking as much as her words. Then she stood, and grasped his hand; and began leading him towards...

"We're going to do what?" she asked. His eyes opened, and he looked at Tara, beside him on the bench. Studiously munching her popcorn; waiting for him to answer. A rhythmic melody wafted from the speakers above the pavilion. He glanced behind him, then back at her. "All done dreaming?" she asked now, as she picked a bit of hull from her teeth. "What's next?"

He looked down at his empty hand. Then around again at the milling crowd, in the late afternoon sun. "Reality, I guess."

Coming next...

CHAPTER 4: "Don't ever be sorry..."