Calming day of at coney island.

The car bumped and ground inexorably up the track to the first big drop. Swaying and groaning with effort, it was filled with thrill seekers of all stripes. Gus could hear nervous laughter and a few practice shrieks from behind him. When they were boarding the cars he’d noticed that the person sitting behind him was an enormous fat woman with a mop of frizzy red hair dyed a shade of orange he’d only ever seen in a sheaf of color-aid paper back in art school thirty years before.