Touch the SKY
By ALFRED COPPEL
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Startling Stories Summer 1955.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The sign said: RIDE THE ROCKET! TWICE AROUND THE UNIVERSE FOR 25¢! Which was cheap enough, Pete Moore thought. Cheap enough at twice the fare.
Glory giggled and pulled at his arm. "Let's ride, Pete. Let's see what you're in for."
He smiled down at her thinly, because it wasn't really anything for her to giggle about, but that was Glory for you. She was young enough, gay enough, to be able to make a joke of it, and that was good and he shouldn't spoil it. Not many other wives would feel like that. Not many other wives would want to spend his last night home on the midway, for that matter. But then again, that was Glory.
He listened to the tinny carousel music and the babble of the crowd, the laughter and the mingled drone of barkers. He smelled the tang of roasting popcorn and the hot-doggy stink of the lunchcounters. He looked at the ferris wheel and the crazy swoop of lights that was the scenic railway and the people crowding along the boardwalk with kewpie dolls and spun-sugar candy cones in their hands.