The Bottom Drops Out

"....if the gondola falls.", she said. And Theodore replied, " But it would be a grand adventure, surely." Jasper stared out at the undulating blue that shimmered just below. The cotton-candy pink and blue ferris-wheel turned slow and steady, the sounds of the pier and water below came in and out as they rose and dipped, laughing, laughing.

The wind blew strong. whip, snap, rumble, tumble, crash, and splash.
After the shock subsided, the three rapscallions stared out over the lip of their pink water-borne gondola at the hazy image of the misty beach and noisy pier, then it faded altogether.

"We may see China!", exclaimed Jasper, lazily leaning over the water, splashing little hands.
Jasper was afraid of heights. He never climbed long ladders, never rode in elevators.

"I may never see another carnival again!", cried Clara, sulkily tearing at her ruffled dress.
Clara feared the Red Baron. She never rode in Aeroplanes, never pressed her button nose up close to window-panes.

Theodore was silent for a moment. He wondered when their gondola would hit some distant shore, and when the sun would set. Then in his hushed and serious tone, "I lost my Cracker-Jacks."
Theodore was not afraid of many things, but wary of what lie ahead. He never lost a bit of sleep, and yet he'd never had a dream.

They tumbled over the swishy waves, the somber children three, and wondered wondered what the end might be.