“My eye – it’s gone!” But Roz hadn’t heard. Not above the rumble and roar of Seven Serpents plummeting and twisting its riders into the abyss. Then sudden darkness, a hissing of hydraulics and the pod glided to its station. “I want to go a– what’s wrong, Declan!”
Had Rachel not known of his childhood accident, she might have laughed. But if that right hand clamped over his eye came down, riders would really scream. Declan knew that too: the livid flesh behind the prosthetic – the surgeon had warned him not to look – was a very, very bad memory.
‘Slung’ had been the game, prohibited by the teachers, loved by the boys. And in a boarding-house, when there were no sport practices, the boys played the games they loved. Declan was especially keen on ‘Slung’, the thrill of the game measured by how far he hurtled. As one of the smallest boys in the house, he aimed at being the bravest.
“Declan, you’re the Slung.” He was already on his way down the line, tallest to shortest, the opposite end to Ben, the anchor, heaviest and strongest.
“Okay, let’s go.” The line moved slowly at first. “Jogging…” The line picked up pace. “Faster…” Now it was running, the strain building until…“Anchor! Anchor!” Ben thrust his heels into the turf, dropped to the ground and pivoted. The whipline of boys shot on, propelled centrifugally until…the snap!
Declan knew what was coming, that wild abandon of being rocketed through the air, then landing everywhichway somewhere on the field. But what he did not know was that where the groundsmen had been working there that morning, repairing the irrigation system, a severed pipe stuck through the turf. His right eye never saw it; nor would it ever see again.
A blur of hospitals and rooms – and the eyepatch of course – the only bright spot in all the pain and regret. The pirate look did enhance his status: he told his parents he wanted to keep the patch forever. They convinced him otherwise, and soon enough neither he nor his friends noticed.
But now he was panicking. No one must see that hole in his face. “If you don’t believe me, I’ll take my hand away.” Fortunately for the ‘pirate’ at Captain Morgan’s Hideaway, he did, and surrendered his eyepatch to Declan. Roz and he headed for Seven Serpents.
“No, I can’t close the ride down now. People have been standing a long time.” This time Declan did remove the eyepatch. “Would you like me to tell them about your ride?”
The manager led the search. “It’s likely to have come out on the sharp turn at the third coil – acceleration’s maximum there.” He was right: there lay a hazel-green eye, not what the patrons imagined when told the ride was delayed because a very valuable object had been lost.
Declan did once return to Seven Serpents, not for the promised free rides, but to check for a sign: “No wearer of a prosthetic eye allowed.”
Excellent story, Roger.