“Ridiculous, right?” Joey huffed. “It’s something all students from out of state need to do before the school year starts. I figured I’d just get it out of the way since we’re going to be there. It’ll save me another trip.”
His friends were bummed they’d miss a night with him, but understood the convenience and didn’t fault him for it. Cash, on the other hand, thought it was a little too convenient. Something else was definitely going on, and Joey was terrible at hiding it—Cash knew a bad performance when he saw one.
“I see Exit 180A!” Topher declared. “First stop, here we come!”
The station wagon took the exit and pulled off the highway. They traveled a couple of miles away from the interstate, then turned onto a dirt road lined with a metal fence. The world’s biggest rubber-band ball was at the very end of the road and perched on the top of a tall grassy hill. It was the size of a house, and a wooden observation deck wrapped around it.
Topher parked at the base of the hill but there weren’t any other visitors. He and his friends got out of the car, let Cash out of the back, and stared up at the attraction for a couple of moments before approaching it.
“What a dump,” Mo said.
Their first roadside attraction was a complete letdown. It was severely sun damaged and all its colorful bands had turned gray over time. Several pieces of wood were missing from the deck and termites had feasted on what remained.
“Even I couldn’t fix up that pile of garbage,” Sam said.
“Maybe it looks better close up,” Topher suggested—once again blaming himself for the disappointment.
They climbed the hill to get a better look but it was even more decrepit up close. The whole deck had been tagged with graffiti, and several bird nests had been built within the looser bands.
“The pictures online looked way better,” Sam said. “Granted, they were taken in the forties.”
“Of which century?” Mo quipped.
“It’s still a landmark,” Topher said. “We still get to tell our grandchildren we saw the world’s biggest rubber-band ball. That’s pretty cool, right?”
Cash was the only one brave enough to climb up the steps and walk around the observation deck. He seemed to see a much different attraction than the others did.
“I sympathize with it,” he said. “This thing has spent its whole life on display, amusing and delighting families decade after decade, only to spend its final days covered in bird shit and with the stench of roadkill. It reminds me of an old actress I know.”
“You think it bounces?” Joey asked.
Cash shrugged. “Let’s find out.”
He leaned back on the railing and kicked the giant ball with both of his feet as hard as he could, trying to set it free. The whole deck shook and pieces of wood started breaking off.
“Can we not damage public property?” Sam asked. “Some of us have applied for scholarships and will be denied if we get arrested.”
“It’s stuck anyway,” Cash said, and ended his assault on the landmark. “This place is a dud. Let’s get out of here. If we leave now, maybe we can make up the time we lost at the diner.”
The travelers headed down the hill to the station wagon, but stopped when they heard a series of loud snaps and crunches behind them. They turned back to the attraction at the top of the hill and saw the observation deck start to crumble and collapse beneath it.
“That can’t be good,” Mo said.
The world’s biggest rubber-band ball began to wobble and break free from the barriers containing it. The giant ball slowly rolled out from the deck’s debris and descended down the hill, headed straight toward its visitors.
“RUN!” Topher yelled.
They bolted for the station wagon and threw themselves into the car. Topher cranked the ignition, but the engine didn’t start.
“Why isn’t the car starting?” Sam shouted.
“Because it never starts on the first try!” Topher reminded her, and tried again.
At first the enormous ball of rubber bands moved at a leisurely pace, but it gained speed and momentum the farther it traveled. Soon it was racing down the hill like a rubber avalanche.
“Hurry! It’s getting closer!” Mo shouted.
“I just need a second!” Topher said.
“We don’t have a second!” Joey screamed.
Finally the station wagon roared to life. Topher yanked the gearshift into reverse and slammed his foot on the accelerator. The car rocketed backward right before the moving landmark could flatten it. The passengers cheered, but their worries weren’t over.
“It’s still coming toward us!” Sam hollered.
“This is just like Indiana Jones!” Cash laughed.
The giant ball ricocheted off the metal fence like a pinball and chased the station wagon down the dirt road like Godzilla. Everyone inside the car screamed except Cash, who sang the Indiana Jones theme song at the top of his lungs. Right when Topher worried they’d all be goners, the car reached the end of the dirt road and he swerved out of the rogue attraction’s path.