The walls of her small apartment reflected the carnival lights in the town square. The carnival had been in town for three days–tonight would be its last. The future ting and tone of metal unhinging while she walked to church on Sunday filled her with regret on Saturday. Tired and squinting boys sweeping up the small pieces of litter that escaped the trash receptacles and mumbling to each other in words she could not discern caused her to dread the morning. She did not want to hear the squeak and rub of peopleless rides before she had a chance to enjoy a Saturday night at the carnival.
The town welcomed the carnival every year, but she never attended. The carnival was too worldly for her family–still was, but her family need not know she found the lights, the noise, the smells irresistible. Besides, she was on her own, independent of their ideas now. She would be up in the morning and get to church early, but tonight she had to know what the carnival was all about.
She hesitated at the gate. Five dollars was a lot of money to walk around a carnival.
“Half price, half price now until we close,” said the man at the ticket counter who saw her vacillating. Half price was something not to be passed up. The extra two dollars and fifty cents may allow a small amount of cotton candy, something she had never tasted. She would be careful with her milk and eggs–making them last the entire week.
She ducked her head shyly as a gust of wind pulled and fluttered the canopy at the entrance and the ticket taker gave her a wide toothy grin. Her heart pound in her ears. She hurried along the carnival grounds and listened to the sounds of young children shouting with delight as the mechanical rides twirled black against the red-orange sunset sky. A small family of four walked ahead of her laughing and sharing pink cotton candy. She smiled at their compact and secret ways of knowing each other; the dip and sway of the candy making its way to sticky fingers; smiles upon each face.
She found the cotton candy maker. He was tall and angular with large gray eyes. He bent down from his narrow hips handing her the spun candy. His lips a deep red spread into a sinister smile; “Be sure to brush your teeth tonight.”
She was careful to stay away from the rides and those calling her over to experience the dip and sway. The price of the ticket did not include the rides and she didn’t want to spend the money. She watched the Ferris-Wheel’s circular glided against the darkening sky. The last of the summer warmth curled about her in a soft breeze caused by the large wheel. Her hair lifted with the swish and dip of the cars that swung within the large brightly lit wheel; a gentle mesmeric rhythm.
“Do you want to ride?”
His voice was deep and directly behind her. She jumped and turned while stumbling back. He was tall and slender and she was sure he had some makeup on his face. His eyes were startling brown and golden flecked. When he smiled at her and tilted his head, she wondered for a moment if his eyes turned red.
“You’ve been watching that wheel for some time. I own this little place–I’ll make sure you have a ride.”
“No. No, thank-you.”
“Why not? This is our last night. We’ve done very well–we won’t miss the price of one Ferris-Wheel ticket.”
He glided past her taking her hand gently within his cool fingertips. She moved past paying customers following the tall man who smiled and nodded at her encouragingly. She walked up the back stairs of the Ferris Wheel where weary workers, not much older than she, stepped aside as they walked by. “She’s next,” commanded the man and the workers winced and bowed at the sound of his voice. She was ushered inside a small cage seat that swung precariously back and forth almost immediately lifting into the summer night sky.
She came back down and he was still there, the tall beautiful man, and laughing at her frightened face. “Look straight out, not down, child.” So she did and gasped at the sight. Her small town was all alight. She saw the church steeple, the town square, and was level with the flag on the courthouse tundra. She twisted around carefully, not wanting the seat on which she sat to swing too violently–yes, just there but barely, the dim lights of the small farm where she was sure her family sat upon the screened-in porch. The lights of her family’s home twinkled outside the reach of the town and all its distractions.
The Ferris-Wheels dipped down and her heart lift. She was sure that she could fly forward to whatever direction she chose.
He was standing there again, still smiling as she was lifted away gazing at his countenance. This time the wheel while she sat precarious at the very top, stopped. The small summer breeze slowly pushing the wheel backward and forward did not distract her now. She closed her eyes for a moment and allowed herself to believe that lifting her hands to heaven sponged away her weakness and desires of the night. The wheel dipped and stopped and dipped and stopped until a tired young man opened the gate and allowed her to step away unaided.
The beautiful tall man was at the bottom of the steps. “Are you glad you went?”
“Yes,” she gasped turning red to the tips of her ears and down her neck.
“Come, I’ll buy you some cotton candy, looks like you could use some.”
“No, no please, I don’t really care for it.” She blushed, “Well I just found out tonight I don’t care for it. Too sweet.”
He laughed aloud, and she jumped, smiled, not comfortable but liking his laugh all the while.
“What’s your name,” he asked.
“Laurel,” she whispered, ashamed–this was no proper introduction.
“Well, Laurel, would you like to see the two-headed chickens or the trapeze act in the big top?”
She looked down and whispered no thank you and hoped he would believe her.
“Well,” he said soft and low, “why don’t you let me make sure no one follows you home.”
She looked up into his face, somehow kind, somehow not. He seemed without age and her heart pounded in her ears and her hands clenched around her waist. She liked his stare and was terrified.
“But you would follow me home,” she argued.
His face softened in the green, then yellow, then red glowing lights. Touching his fingertip to her soft cheek, she felt a shiver deep down. He had found a hollow place within her, a curiosity he would keep.
Photo by Jens Theeß on Unsplash
