“Did you hear that Devin passed away?” Tyler said to Betty earlier that day while they were in line. “He was in Cleveland, died in Turn Seven of Top Thrill 2!”

They were members of a roller coaster club. They went to a town with a coaster, rode it, and spent the night locally. Ate at the local restaurants. It was great fun.

“I’m so jealous!” Betty said. She was one of the oldest members. She had been riding coasters for a very long time. The exact amount of time she kept a secret, because she liked secrets.

“Must have had a smile on his face!” Tyler said. “I know I would have!”

“Me too!” Betty said.

They were in Phoenix, riding Desert Storm. It had everything a coaster-lover could ask for. Speed, loop-de-loops, spirals, steep descents, everything!

It was Roller Coaster Fan Club Day. None of them had had a chance to use their Fan Club coupons yet. It was hard to do that when you spent all of your time in line waiting to ride the coasters, even with VIP access.

Off the coaster, Betty moved slowly and with intention.

When she was snug and secure in a car, she was like a bird, graceful, free, the wind messing up her hair. She was a young girl again, experiencing her first coaster, like it was yesterday, like it was now. On a coaster, Betty wasn’t aged, she was ageless.

Her car rode the track to its peak, the same elevation as some nearby Phoenix skyscrapers, swaying in the heat.

Don’t look down don’t look down don’t look down, Betty said to herself, every time she arrived at this point, no matter what coaster she was riding. She always did, she always looked. It brought her senses to life, sent a tingling feeling through her, like that time that the EMT had to shock her heart.

Betty released her grip on the bar at her waist, held her weak arms up as high as they could go. As the car floated there, just before the epic fall, she cried, “I’m ready!”

The car plummeted, everyone screamed, down the steepest grade of any roller coaster on earth. It was almost straight down. The G-Forces were spectacular. They could train astronauts on this thing.

Betty could not discern her joyous scream from the chorus around her. Her voice was harsh and sore, it was worth it.

She and Devin were in a club-within-a-club. He had, without telling anyone, even her, always wanted to die on a roller coaster. And he did. He died the way he wanted to.

Everyone should die the way they wanted to.

Betty wanted to die when she was ready, when the time was right.

“I’m ready,” she said. She said that a lot these days. Would this be the time?

She fell and fell and fell.

The fall seemed to last longer this time. Maybe she hadn’t paid it as much attention before.

After the hundredth time, or the two hundredth time, it gets harder to pay attention.

She paid attention this time.

Betty fell and fell and fell.

Her arms were extended, but they did not ache.

She saw the lights of Phoenix, the desert city. The lights were harsh and ugly. She closed her eyes. She could see the lights through her eyelids, but now they were pretty.

Still she fell.

Is this really happening? she thought. Will I ever stop falling?

“I’m ready!” she cried.