Funland

by Richard Laymon

  Could it have anything to do with her?

  That didn’t seem likely.

  But he’d sure been in a hurry to get away.

  Robin thought that they’d made some kind of connection last night, that he was eager to see her again. She’d tried not to read too much into it, but he had been on her mind a lot ever since their meeting. Especially once she had given up the idea of trying to jump Poppinsack.

  Lying in the dark space beneath the house last night, she’d slept fitfully. She’d flinched awake, time and again, certain that someone was crawling toward her or that she’d been discovered by those who lived in the house. Huddled there, feeling small and frightened, she had comforted herself with thoughts of Nate.

  It all seemed a little stupid now.

  He was just being nice last night, and you blew it all out of proportion.

  A feeling of sadness hollowed her out. She had been on the road a long, long time—drifting, savoring the freedom, not minding much that she was alone, and looking forward to each new day. It had started with running away, but it had soon become an adventure, a quest.

  It had led her here.

  And she realized, now, that she had allowed herself to hope it was over.

  Nate could’ve been what she’d been looking for.

  Could’ve been.

  But wasn’t.

  She stood there with a loneliness inside that felt as vast and cold as the ocean.

  “I’m getting a case of the hungries,” Joan said.

  “What do you feel like?”

  During her two weeks of patrolling the boardwalk with Dave, she’d sampled food from most of the shops. She ran the list of possibilities through her mind: hamburgers, cheeseburgers, hot dogs, chili dogs, submarines, fish and chips, fried clams, Mexican food and Chinese and Greek.

  “What were those gizmos in the pita bread with the lamb stuff and sour cream?” she asked.

  “Gyros?”

  “Yeah. Does that sound good to you?”

  “They’re kind of messy,” Dave said. “I wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourself by slobbing.”

  “Screw you,” she said, and bumped into him.

  “Anytime.”

  “Don’t hold your breath, partner.” She saw that they were passing the main entrance. “Why don’t I ditch our jackets?” she suggested. “You can go ahead and order, I’ll meet you there.”

  “What do you want to drink?”

  “Beer, but I’ll settle for Coke or Pepsi.”

  “You want onions?” he asked, taking off his jacket.

  “Just ice.”

  He handed the jacket to her. “I am having onions on my gyro,” he said, speaking with slow precision. “Would you care for onions on your gyro?”

  “I promise I’ll care for them,” she said, smiling as she watched Dave roll his eyes upward. “I’ll feed them, take them for walks, clean up after them.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “I wouldn’t want you to be the only one with stinky breath.”

  “Won’t matter,” he said. “I’ll be holding it.”

  Smiling, Joan turned away from him. She pulled her jacket off as she walked past the ticket booth. She glanced back and saw that he was watching her. Nice.

  It had been a terrific morning once their talk in the car was out of the way and she knew where they both stood. She still felt a little guilty about Gloria, but she figured she could live with that burden. Gloria hadn’t been right for him anyway.

  And I am? she asked herself as she trotted down the stairs.

  Damn straight I am.

  It felt so good.

  Joan arrived at the patrol unit. She tossed their jackets into the trunk, slammed the trunk shut, and hurried back through the parking lot.

  She breathed deeply, savoring the fresh smell of the ocean. The sun warmed her, and the breeze caressed her. She felt light and compact and strong and vibrant. She liked how the breeze ruffled her T-shirt and shorts against her skin. She liked the weight of the utility belt around her hips, and the way the leather creaked. She liked the feel of her muscles sliding under her skin. She liked the feel of her breasts moving inside her bra and how the fabric felt against her nipples. And the subtle tightness of her panties. And the soft springy feel of the soles of her shoes. She even liked the hungry feeling in her stomach.

  Then she saw two bums sitting on the concrete stairs. Two female bums. And she stopped feeling good.

  Her breath snagged. Her heart raced. Her stomach felt cold and numb. The muscles of her legs seemed to go soft and shaky.

  One of the bums was Gloria.

  My God, she thought. Losing Dave might’ve hit the woman hard, but to disintegrate this much so fast…

  She suddenly realized it was a disguise.

  The shock started to wear off.

  Gloria hadn’t fallen apart, after all. She’d done that piece about trolling a couple of days ago, and yesterday she’d been trying to interview bums on the boardwalk. Now she had taken it one step further—one major step—and made herself up to look like one.

  She’d done a good job of it too. Her hair, normally black and well-groomed, was a tangled mop streaked with gray. Her face looked dirty. She wore a dingy gray sweatshirt that gaped with holes—probably made by scissors, Joan thought. An undershirt showed through the holes. Her faded skirt, a purple thing with a flower pattern, looked like a reject from a thrift shop. She wore red tights under the skirt. One knee of the tights was slit open. Instead of shoes, or over her shoes, she wore brown paper grocery sacks tied at the ankles with twine. On the stair beside her rested a grocery bag intended to represent the receptacle for all her worldly goods.

  Either that, Joan thought, or it’s a spare shoe.

  So far, Gloria hadn’t noticed Joan. Her head was turned toward the subject of her interview—a fat older woman wearing a knit cap and overcoat. The woman’s pasty white knees were bare below the edge of the coat. Her calves looked as if they were being choked by the bands of her knee-high brown nylons. She wore big scuffed army boots.

  As she talked, she waved her hands around, scrunched up her face, and rolled her eyes. Gloria nodded. The way she nodded in response to the woman’s babbling was enough to blow her cover, Joan thought. It showed she was alert, focused. Not that the troll was likely to pick up on such a clue.

  Joan took a step toward the women.

  Then turned away and trotted up the stairs.

  I’m not going to interfere, she told herself. The hell with it. Gloria’s a big girl.

  But she knew she would have to tell Dave.

  Twenty-two

  Jeremy left the bathroom and rushed into the kitchen. His mother was on her knees, applying Contact paper to the bottom of a cupboard. He looked at the clock. Ten minutes till one. He should’ve been on his way by now.

  His mother pulled her head out of the cupboard and frowned at him. “Are you all right, honey? You’ve been running to the toilet every five minutes.”

  That was an exaggeration, but he had gone three times during the past hour. “Must be something I ate,” he said.

  “If you’ve been eating junk at Funland…”

  Cramps hit him again. Gritting his teeth, he hurried back to the bathroom. He tugged his swimsuit down and dropped onto the toilet seat just in time.

  Jeez, he thought, now I’m really going to be late.

  He was sure his problem had nothing to do with what he’d been eating. He suspected it had to do with a dead troll, or maybe it had to do with Shiner. As if his bowels wanted to stop him from returning to the scene of the death, or prevent his date with the girl. Or both.

  He finished, and rushed back into the kitchen. The clock now showed two minutes till one.

  “Would it be okay if I take the car?” he asked.

  “I have a hair appointment at two,” his mother said. “I’ll drive you to the beach, if you’d like. But I’m not sure you should be going anywhere in your condition.”

>   “I have to. I’m meeting someone. I’m going to be late if I have to take my bike.”

  “All right. Go on out to the car. I’ll be along in a minute.”

  “Thanks,” he said.

  He waited in the car. As he sat in the passenger seat, the tightness came back. Goose bumps scurried over his skin.

  It’s just nerves, he told himself. I can’t have to go again. It’ll stop once I’m there.

  His mother arrived and climbed in behind the wheel. She backed the car out of the driveway. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah.” He wondered if she could see the goose bumps on his face.

  “Maybe it isn’t something you ate,” she said. “It might very well be that you’re upset about going back there after what happened yesterday.”

  He knew she was referring to the fight with the four creeps, and nothing else.

  “I guess I am a little nervous about that,” he said.

  “You have to be more careful, honey. There seem to be a lot of unsavory characters who hang around that area. As you found out.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And I’m not so sure that Cowboy is a good influence.”

  “You’ve never even met him.”

  “Do you think the fight would’ve happened if you’d been alone?”

  “Probably,” he lied. “Anyway, I’m not seeing Cowboy today. I think he’s still in the hospital.”

  “Then who are you meeting?”

  “A girl.”

  She turned her head toward him, smiled, and raised her eyebrows, looking both pleased and surprised. “I wasn’t aware you’d met any girls.”

  “She’s a friend of Cowboy’s. She’s really nice,” he added quickly, wondering if he’d made a mistake in linking her to Cowboy. “You’d like her.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Shiner.”

  “Doesn’t she have a real name?”

  “I only met her yesterday.” He realized that his cramps had subsided. Explaining things to Mom was a distraction that must help.

  “Is she your age?”

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  They reached the boulevard at the foot of the hill, and she stopped for a traffic light. “Is she pretty?”

  He almost said that he’d seen her only in the dark, but caught himself. “Yeah, kind of.”

  “Well, I think that’s grand. It’s about time you met a nice girl. I’d like to meet her sometime. Maybe you should ask her over for dinner one of these nights.”

  “Mom, I hardly even know her yet.”

  The light went green. She drove forward and turned left toward Funland.

  “If you’re afraid I might not approve of her…”

  “It isn’t that. Jeez!”

  She gave him a sharp glance. “If you’re so ashamed of this girl that you won’t let your mother meet her, then something is very definitely wrong and you’d better think twice before you get involved with her. We’ve been in this town only a few days, and you’ve already managed to get into trouble. I’m not at all sure your new friends are the sort of people you should be associating with.”

  “They’re just normal kids.”

  “With odd nicknames. You’re not involved with some kind of a gang, are you?”

  “No. That’s ridiculous.”

  “I’d like to meet this Shiner.”

  “Okay, okay.”

  “I’d like to meet her today.” The car slowed as it approached the parking-lot entrance.

  “You can just drop me off in front,” Jeremy said.

  “I think I’ll go with you and meet this girl.”

  “You mean now?”

  Nodding, she swung the car into the parking lot and took a ticket from the man beside the booth.

  “Mom, no! Jesus! You’ll ruin everything!”

  “You’re only sixteen years old. I won’t have you getting involved with some kind of tramp or criminal—”

  “She’s not! Dammit, Mom!”

  “Don’t use that language with me, young man.” She jolted the car to a stop in a parking space. “Let’s go.”

  Jeremy shook his head. “You can’t come with me.”

  “Don’t tell me what I can’t do.”

  “Then I’m not getting out of the car.”

  “That’s fine with me. I’ll drive you home.”

  “Mom, please!”

  She stared at him. The hardness seemed to melt out of her face. “I only want what’s best for you, honey.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with Shiner,” he said, his voice shaking. He felt as if he might start to cry.

  “I’d like to meet her and see for myself. I’ve been a teacher so long I can tell a good kid from a rotten one in about a second.”

  “I’ll ask her to come over. Okay? But you can’t go out on the beach with me. Please. It’d ruin everything. These kids here, they like me. They don’t think I’m a wimp or a fag or a mama’s boy. If you walk me out there like I’m a four-year-old, I’d never live it down. I’d be screwed in this town, just like I was in Bakersfield. I might as well stick my head in the oven.”

  “Don’t you ever say that.”

  “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “But I hated it, the way things were before. I’ve got a chance here. Don’t mess it up for me.”

  “I just want to make sure you don’t get hurt.”

  “I know. Trust me, though, okay?”

  “Have a good time. Ask the girl to have dinner with us tonight.”

  “I will. Thanks, Mom.” He leaned across the seat and kissed her.

  Then he climbed from the car. He walked around its rear. His mother looked at him through the driver’s window. He waved. She drove away.

  God, he thought, she’d nearly blown everything.

  He never should’ve mentioned Shiner. He never should’ve asked for a ride. He should’ve just taken his bike.

  Well, you learned a lesson. From now on, keep your mouth shut.

  He saw a couple of trolls sitting on the steps. They were busy talking to each other. He rushed toward the top, taking the stairs two at a time, hoping to get out of range before either of the trolls decided to hit him up for money.

  When he crossed the boardwalk, he glanced to the left and saw the distant towering structure of the Ferris wheel. It looked so high. He saw the old man falling through the fog.

  He rushed the rest of the way across the boardwalk and trotted down the stairs to the beach. He headed for the lifeguard station. It was too far away for him to recognize Shiner among those sprawled on the sand around it.

  Would he recognize her, he wondered, if he could see her?

  Only a portion of the platform in front of the lifeguard shack was visible from this angle, and no one seemed to be there.

  Though he kept walking, his head swung around and he gazed back at the Ferris wheel. He didn’t want to look at it, but couldn’t help himself. The gondolas of the spinning wheel were bright red against the pale sky.

  Again he saw the old troll falling.

  He felt cold and tight in his stomach.

  It wasn’t my fault, he told himself.

  He wondered if Funland was ruined forever now. What if he could never come here again without being tormented by the memories of last night?

  Some of it was good, though. Being part of the group—the first time in his life he wasn’t an outsider. The way he’d felt when Tanya gave him the whistle. And afterward on the beach with Shiner. Holding her.

  It was like you thought before, he reminded himself. You’ve got to go through it all. The bad stuff’s part of the good stuff. It’s all mixed together and one thing leads to another and you wouldn’t be meeting Shiner here today, probably, if the old coot hadn’t fallen. That’s what brought you together.

  It’s worth it.

  It has to be worth it.

  As if those thoughts had released him from the need for further punishment, he found that he was able to look away from the Ferris wheel
.

  He was a lot closer to the lifeguard station now.

  He spotted someone on its platform. Not Tanya. A male in red swimming trunks.

  Disappointment tugged at Jeremy.

  I didn’t come here to see Tanya, he told himself.

  But he realized that wasn’t true. He’d come here to be with Shiner, but he’d expected Tanya to be at her post. Even if he didn’t go to her, he would’ve been able to watch her. Gaze at her standing there golden in the sunlight, her hair and T-shirt and red shorts fluttering in the breeze, her legs long and powerful and bare.

  He remembered hurling the remains of his waffle cone at her, day before yesterday.

  What a dumb-ass thing to do. What a great thing to do. That’s what proved I’m not a wimp. If I hadn’t done that, maybe she wouldn’t have let me meet the trollers.

  He thought about how she had forced him to clean the ice cream off her leg. His mind lingered on that, savoring the memory of the slickness and the way she’d made him go up inside the leg hole of her shorts.

  Shiner might be nice and even pretty, Jeremy told himself, but she’s no Tanya. She’s a girl; Tanya’s a…A what? Something more. A force? A…

  “Jeremy?” The call came from a girl kneeling on a blanket, waving an arm at him. Her blanket was spread out several yards this side of the lifeguard station.

  Would’ve had a good view of Tanya, he thought as he raised a hand in greeting and walked closer. He was surprised to realize that he suddenly felt no more than a mild sense of regret over Tanya’s absence.

  Shiner bore only a vague resemblance to the girl last night. In the dark, he hadn’t been able to see the shine of her yellow hair. Maybe that’s where she got the nickname, he thought. The dark had also hidden the deep blue of her eyes, the soft tan of her skin. Her teeth had been gray; now they were brilliant white. The features of her face had been smudged with shadows; now he could see the shapes of her eyes and nose, her lips, her delicate chin.

  She was beautiful. But cute too. The cuteness came from her smile. It was a wide stretch of a smile that seemed too big for her face. It creased her cheeks. It crinkled the skin around her eyes. If filled her eyes with a look of happiness and maybe a touch of mischief.