Context

This story was inspired by a friend of a friend of mine who wrote an article worried about the messages their daughter might learn from bits of conventional parental wisdom. I tried to capture that uncertainty without taking a stand one way or the other, or letting it get preachy. Not sure how well it comes across. I'd welcome any comments. Do you think this similarity is significant, or just coincidental?


“Oh, come on, sweetie. There’s nothing to be afraid of, I promise.” His daughter had begged, had pleaded for days to come here to the fair, had talked non-stop about the roller coaster since she had first seen it, and now, standing in front of it, she had attached herself to his hip like an aviophobe to an aisle seat.



It was her first time, the first summer that her mother thought she was big enough for the coaster, and she had boiled over with excitement when they reached the admissions gate. She’d run as fast as she could, yanking on his arm all the way past the kiddie rides and the lemonade, the games of skill and the cotton candy, to the line for the coaster. She’d hustled to the cardboard clown that told her she was tall enough to ride and had done a little jig in front of it that made him wish he’d thought to bring the camera. She’d stared with wide-eyed wonder as the skinny, smoking carny let the previous load out and opened the gate for the next. And then, inevitably, when the train climbed the hill and the screaming started, the wonder turned to terror and she wanted to leave.

He’d seen it coming, of course. He knew his daughter. This was the slide all over again, and the jungle gym, and the first sleepover. She loved new experiences when they were still coming, and loved telling people about them later, but when the time came, she was scared. It was normal, he knew, and it was why, no matter what her mother said, she still needed him.

This was what being a father was all about. Mothers were fine for telling you you're safe, but to chase off the monsters or convince you they weren’t scary, you couldn’t beat a dad.
 “Where’s my little lion, huh?” he asked her, but she just buried her face in the denim on his hip. This was going to be a tough one. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You’ll enjoy it. Nothing bad’s going to happen while daddy’s here. You want to watch the coaster a little while, so you can see it’s safe?” She shook her head and tightened her grip.

“Now listen,” he said, and waited until her frightened eyes were fixed on his patient ones. “I know it looks scary, but it will be fun. You came all the way here. You can’t turn back now.”
 It was hard, just now, while she looked so scared, so betrayed, but he had to help her go through with it. That was his role. She would learn to be fearless, learn that things that seem scary at first can be fun. What lesson would he be teaching if he let her chicken out?


It had been a great party. Her friend was right: she’d been working too hard this week. That was why she was so tired. She’d had a drink, but only one, and normally she could take much more, but not tonight. Tonight, she just wanted to get to bed. Her friend, her ride, was still having a great time and she didn’t want to interrupt. She picked her way upstairs and peeked into rooms until she found an empty bedroom where she could take a little nap until her friend was ready to go.

She woke half an hour later with a start and a hand over her mouth. 


“You'll enjoy it,” he whispered. 


“You can’t turn back now.” 


“There’s nothing to be afraid of. I promise.”