by Chris Colfer
“We’re going to pass highway 283! I had no idea we were this close to Kansas!”
“What’s so special about highway 283?” Joey asked.
“High Tydes!” Cash announced as if they would all reciprocate his excitement.
“What are you talking about?” Mo asked. “Is that a city?”
“No, High Tydes is only the best amusement-slash-water park in middle America!” he said. “I used to go there all the time when I was a kid. My favorite childhood memories were spent in that park. Have you guys seriously never heard of it?”
“Why were you going to an amusement park in Kansas when you were a kid?” Joey said. “Aren’t you originally from Orange County in California? Don’t look at me like I’m a stalker, Cash. You know we were fans first.”
“I grew up in Colorado Springs and moved to the OC when I was eleven,” Cash said. “I’ve just never told the whole story publicly, because it’s like none of your fucking business, Star Magazine, you know what I mean?”
“So High Tides was your favorite place as a kid?” Mo asked.
“It’s the best!” he raved. “It’s got incredible roller coasters, amazing waterslides, and an awesome racetrack. I’m not sure Sam is tall enough to ride all the rides, but you guys would love it.”
“I’m five two!”
“You know what,” Cash said, “I don’t want to be controversial, but I’m just going to say what’s on my mind: I think we should ditch Texas and go ride rides at High Tydes! It’s just a couple hours north on the 283 highway. What do you guys say?”
Just as they did when Cash tried to change their plans before, Sam, Joey, and Mo turned to Topher like he was their unofficial chaperone.
“Er… I’m not sure that works with the schedule,” he said. “We’re supposed to see the Bundy and Claire Jailhouse Museum when we get into Amarillo this afternoon. We don’t have time to do both.”
Cash whimpered like Topher was making a catastrophic mistake.
“So let’s ditch the dusty old museum and go to the amusement park,” the actor pitched. “I don’t mean to brag, but so far my trip suggestions have been a total hit. None of us know if we’ll even like the jailhouse, but I know for a fact we’ll have a blast at High Tydes!”
Everyone in the car absolutely wanted to go to the amusement park instead of the museum, but none of them wanted to be the first one to say it out loud.
“Well… I suppose if it’s just a couple hours north we could still get to the Teepee Inn at a reasonable hour tonight,” Topher said. “And if we wake up a little early tomorrow, we could potentially see the museum before we leave for Albuquerque.…”
“Exactly!” Cash said. “One small detour for shitloads of fun!”
The interchange to highway 283 was fast approaching. They needed to make a decision quickly if they were going to amend their itinerary.
“It’s up to Sam,” Topher said.
“What? Why me?”
“Because you’re driving,” he said.
“We’re gonna miss the exit!” Cash said. “Come on, Sam! Outlaws or outlandish fun! What will it be?”
The pressure was on. At the very last second, Sam made a rapid, daring, and slightly illegal right turn onto highway 283—nearly giving a heart attack to the driver of the Prius behind them. The whole car cheered him on as the station wagon rerouted north toward Kanas.
“You aren’t going to regret this!” Cash told them. “High Tydes has a pirate theme and all its attractions are based on ocean folklore. There’s this roller coaster called Poseidon’s Revenge that will blow your mind! Make sure we ride that on empty stomachs. And if you guys are in the mood to get wet, the Kraken is the longest waterslide east of the Rocky Mountains—I knew someone that started reading War and Peace at the top and was finished by the bottom. Not to mention, High Tydes has the best fried seafood in Kansas—and I’m not being sarcastic!”
The actor went on and on, praising his childhood paradise. He animatedly recalled all his most cherished memories from the park, described all his favorite attractions at great length and detail, and listed all the reasons why High Tydes was the best amusement park in the world. He was so descriptive the others felt like they had already been there and were very eager to authenticate the images and expectations in their minds.
After two hours of traveling up the 283, Cash was still raving about his favorite theme park, but he hadn’t indicated where it was located or when they’d arrive. The others kept their eyes open for any advertisements along the highway but never saw anything pointing it out.
“Are you sure we haven’t passed it?” Sam asked.
“Don’t worry, you’ll see a huge billboard with Captain Tydes, the park’s mascot,” Cash said. “Just take the exit after it.”
After another hour, there still was no billboard in sight. The impatient passengers were beginning to worry the actor was directionally challenged.
“How come there’s nothing on the Internet about High Tides?” Mo asked. “I’m trying to look up an address, but there’s nothing here—not even a photo.”
“It’s probably under new ownership and they changed the name,” Cash said. “I can’t wait to see what they’ve done with it! Hopefully they’re cool updates and nothing shitty.”
“We’re about twenty miles away from Dodge City,” Sam said. “Are we getting close to the park?”
Cash scrunched up his face. “That can’t be right. Dodge City is way east of High Tydes. It’s just outside Garden City.”
“My phone says Garden City is an hour west of here,” Topher said. “Are you sure you know where you’re going?”
“Oh shit,” the actor said. “High Tydes isn’t off the 283, it’s off the 83! But no one panic, we’re not far. Once we get into Dodge City, take the 400 west, and that’ll spit us out on the 83 north. I’ll guide you from there.”
Topher, Sam, Joey, and Mo were starting to feel like Spanish explorers in search of the Fountain of Youth. The longer they followed Cash’s guidance, the more restless they became. They eventually made it to the 83 but they still had no proof they were going in the right direction. Soon they started to doubt the amusement park even existed.
“I don’t have a good feeling about this anymore,” Topher said. “We won’t even have much time in the park before it gets dark. Maybe we should turn around and head to Amarillo—”
“There it is!” Cash energetically announced. “There’s the billboard! Take the next exit and make a left!”
After five hours and three hundred miles off course, the station wagon drove past the Captain Tydes billboard and the passengers finally had confirmation that High Tydes wasn’t just a figment of Cash’s childhood imagination. From that moment on, Cash seemed to know the area like the back of his hand. He guided the car through miles of fields, pointing out every boulder and tree on the side of the road as if they were old friends. Then like a mirage in a blistering desert, High Tydes appeared in the distance.
“That’s it! That’s it! That’s it!” Cash said, and bounced up and down like a giddy child. “I can’t believe I’m back after all these years! It’s like I’m returning to my homeland!”
The theme park was surrounded by a tall brick fence and evergreen trees, making it impossible to see anything but a few roller coasters peeking over the treetops. The station wagon turned into an enormous parking lot but it was completely empty.
“I’m having déjà vu to the world’s biggest rubber-band ball,” Joey said.
“Don’t worry, the off-season is always less crowded,” Cash said.
“Summer is the off-season for a water park?” Mo asked. “Something tells me it’s closed and we’ve made a huge mistake.”
“Guys, I don’t mean to seem high on my own stash, but I’m a famous actor from television,” Cash reminded them. “Even if it’s closed—they’ll open it.”
The car pulled up to the entrance on the south side of the park and the passengers discovered they should have t
rusted their instincts. The front gate was boarded up and wrapped in thick chains, and a large sign posted across it said HIGH TYDES CLOSED INDEFINITELY AS OF 9/26/07. Everyone in the car turned to Cash with the dirtiest looks physically possible.
“You jackass!” Joey yelled.
“This park has been closed for a decade!” Sam hollered.
“We could have gotten to Amarillo five hours ago!” Topher shouted.
“Why didn’t you tell me Tydes was spelled with a y!” Mo roared. “I could have saved us the trip if I knew what I was searching for!”
Cash was so devastated he wasn’t paying any attention to the anger directed his way. He stared at the bolted gates like he had just seen a small animal run over by a car. He shook his head in disbelief and looked like he was about to cry.
“I can’t believe it,” he said softly. “What happened? Why would they close it?”
“According to Google, High Tydes was shut down by Elkader Township officials after a series of sexual harassment complaints,” Mo read from her phone. “Apparently the characters were inappropriately groping the guests when they had their pictures taken. Also, they were caught serving alcohol to minors.”
“Explains why he liked it so much,” Joey said.
“I can’t believe we just drove three hundred miles for nothing!” Sam said.
“Let’s just get back on the road before we waste any more time,” Topher said. “As it is, we won’t get to Amarillo until midnight!”
As Sam put the gearshift into drive, the station wagon began making noises like a chain-smoker after a long jog. The engine rumbled like a robot taking its final breath and then came to an involuntary stop. Sam turned the ignition a number of times but the car wouldn’t restart.
“What’s happening?” Joey asked. “Are we out of gas?”
“No, it says we still have a quarter of a tank left,” Sam said.
Topher quickly checked the dashboard. “Fuck!” he yelled. “The gas gauge doesn’t always work! I forgot to reset the trip meter when we last filled up!”
“I’d offer to walk to a gas station, but I haven’t seen one for miles,” Joey said.
“Wait—so we’re stranded here?” Mo asked.
“Only temporarily,” Topher said. “I’m going to call Triple A, they’ll come fill us up, and we’ll be back on the road in no time.”
Topher took the Triple A card out of his wallet and called the number on the back. After a few minutes of cheesy and unhelpful mood music, an operator answered.
“Yes, hi—hello!” Topher said. “My friends and I are on a road trip and our car just ran out of gas.… Yes, my membership number is 199052712-1.… What’s that? Hold on one second.… Cash, what’s the address to this place?”
“It’s 1005 High Tydes Boulevard,” Cash said somberly. “It’s on the corner of Broken Dreams and Ruined Childhood Memories.”
“I think you mean on the corner of Karma and Serves You Right,” Mo said. “It sucks when something you adored as a child is ruined, doesn’t it?”
“It’s 1005 High Tydes Boulevard,” Topher repeated into his phone. “Yes, in Kansas.… I agree, the middle of nowhere.… It’s a long story.… I’m sorry, please repeat that.… What?”
His eyes suddenly filled with dread, and the anxiety in the car automatically doubled.
“Is that seriously the best you can do? No, we’re not in any immediate danger.… How many cars were involved? I suppose that makes sense.… Okay then.… Bye.”
Topher clicked off the phone and looked at the others like he had just gotten the worst news of his life.
“What is it, dude?” Joey asked.
“They say there was a huge accident on the 160 and their roadside service cars are backed up. The earliest they can send someone out is tomorrow morning at seven.”
Everyone in the car moaned like a herd of cows in heat. Topher took a deep breath to calm down—even he was unprepared for a situation like this.
“So we’re stuck here until tomorrow morning?” Joey asked.
“We’re going to have to sleep in the car like struggling musicians!” Mo declared.
“But we haven’t eaten since breakfast! How are we supposed to get through the night?” Sam asked.
“Actually, I put together an earthquake kit before we left home,” Topher said. “It’s got enough granola bars and bottles of water to last us three days. We’ll be fine for one night.”
“Why do you have an earthquake kit?” Cash asked.
“Because we’re going to California—duh!” Topher said as if it was as obvious as carrying sunscreen into the desert.
“Cash, can’t you call someone to helicopter us out of here?” Mo asked. “I mean, it’s your fault we’re here in the first place. Surely there’s something you can do.”
“I would but I don’t have my phone,” he said.
Joey groaned. “Who goes on a road trip and doesn’t bring his phone with him?”
“Gee, I don’t know, maybe everyone before 1999,” Cash snipped at him. “Besides, the only person I know with a helicopter is Harrison Ford, and we’re not speaking anymore.”
With nothing to do and nothing to say to make the situation any better, they all crossed their arms and sat in silence like frustrated kindergartners. Cash looked out the window at the locked gate of High Tydes again—and it gave him an idea. The actor crawled over the backseat, climbed across Mo’s lap, and stepped out of the station wagon.
“Where are you going?” Sam asked.
“He’s going nowhere,” Mo answered for him. “There’s literally nowhere to go!”
“Actually there is somewhere to go,” Cash said. “You guys can stay in the car and pout all night if you’d like, but I’m going to go explore the park.”
The others thought he was joking but he walked to the park’s entrance and tried climbing the gate.
“He can’t do that—it’s trespassing,” Mo said.
“It’s only trespassing if someone claims ownership,” Joey said. “I doubt there are any working security cameras on the property. Should we go with him?”
“Joey!”
“We’re already stranded in the middle of nowhere. You really think things will get worse if we explore an abandoned theme park?” he asked.
“Are you hearing the words coming out of your mouth?” Mo asked. “You just described the beginning of a Stephen King novel! The park is probably home to cannibals! I wouldn’t be surprised if some homicidal maniacs are just waiting for a group of naive teenagers to stumble into their territory so they can feast on our flesh!”
“Sounds cool,” Joey said, and got out of the car.
“I agree,” Sam said. “Sure beats spending the whole night in a station wagon.”
“Me too,” Topher said. “Come on, Kung Fu Panda.”
Mo was furious with her friends for ignoring her warning, but knew her chances of getting murdered would be greatly increased if she stayed by herself. She begrudgingly left the station wagon and joined her friends and the actor at the theme park’s entrance.
“I think I can unlock the gate from the other side,” Cash said. “One of you guys give me a boost and I’ll climb over.”
Topher and Joey joined hands and launched the actor upward. Cash grabbed the top of the gate and pulled himself over it—years of Hollywood stunt work had finally paid off. He swung his legs over the edge and the rest of his body went with them. The others heard the actor land with a heavy thud on the other side.
“Are you all right, Cash?” Sam called over the gate. “Please tell us you didn’t break anything.”
The gate opened with a terrible screech and Cash welcomed them into the abandoned amusement park like a deranged Willy Wonka.
“You guys have got to see this,” he said with large, frightened eyes. “This place makes Chernobyl look like Legoland.”
Topher, Joey, Sam, and Mo followed him through the gate and immediately saw what he meant. What was once a colorful, adventurous
, and family-friendly amusement park was now a decaying, smelly, pest-ridden apocalyptic wasteland. There was peeling paint, mold, and cobwebs everywhere they looked. Plant life had taken over the park and there were weeds taller than Topher and grass growing between the slabs of concrete.
The front of the park was called Portville. The row of gift shops and arcades designed to look like a charming seaside village now resembled a ghost town. In the center of the park was Captain’s Cove, where a pirate ship the size of the Disneyland castle floated in a pool of green algae and dead pigeons. To the ship’s east was Hurricane Hideaway, an area of thrill rides populated by dueling families of raccoons and possums. To the ship’s west was Siren Sea, where the state’s longest waterslides emptied into the world’s largest petri dish. To the ship’s north was Buccaneer Bay, an area of kiddie rides and cartoonish statues, which after so much exposure to the elements could have been renamed Satan’s Nursery.
It was unsettling while there was still light, but the farther the sun descended, the creepier the empty park became.
“It’s getting dark,” Cash said. “Let’s make a campfire!”
They dragged a wooden statue of Captain Tydes from the base of the giant pirate ship and lit it on fire. It was a macabre move, but after it had suffered years of neglect from everything but termites, using the mascot as firewood felt strangely like a mercy killing.
“Should we tell ghost stories?” Cash asked the group.
“No!” they all said at once.
“How about a game?” Cash said. “I know! Let’s play never have I ever.”
“How do you play?” Sam asked.
“Hold up all ten of your fingers,” Cash explained. “We’ll go around in a circle and say something we’ve never done before. If you’ve done the thing someone mentions, you put one of your fingers down. The last person to have fingers up wins.”
Everybody shrugged and raised their fingers. What else was there to do?
“Let’s start with an example,” Cash decided. “Never have I ever done a line of cocaine off a CW star’s ass. Now, if I was playing with my Wiz Kids costars, that’s something I would say because I’m the only one who hasn’t done a line of cocaine off a CW star’s ass—does that make sense?”
