Wonderland

by Jennifer Hillier

  He was totally perfect for the job, obviously completely comfortable talking to people. A group of girls about Ava’s age stopped and stared at him, giggling. Despite Ava’s jealousy, she couldn’t blame them. He was gorgeous. End of story.

  Their eyes met across the midway, and he grinned and waved. Ava waved back, her face turning bright red as it always did, and she hoped he was far enough away that he couldn’t see the goofy grin on her face.

  “Garbage?” a voice said, interrupting her thoughts.

  Ava turned to see a janitor in gray coveralls standing near her cart. He was short and stocky, with slicked back dark hair and a goatee. Behind him was a large garbage bin on wheels.

  “Garbage?” he asked again, and she saw that he was holding a black Hefty bag full of trash he’d just removed from the large bin a few feet away. She’d been so busy staring at Xander she hadn’t even noticed he’d done it.

  “Right, sorry.” Ava opened the metal door at the bottom of her golf cart where there was a small personal garbage container. She handed it over and he changed it quickly. “How’s your day going?” she asked.

  He looked up, surprised, as if he wasn’t used to people talking to him. Which was probably because most of the Wonder Workers and guests didn’t talk to him—he was a janitor, which unfortunately made him invisible to everyone. “I’m fine,” he said. “Thank you.”

  “I’m Ava,” she said, feeling chatty and buoyant. Working outside in the fresh air always made her feel this way. She noticed the tattoo on his neck, a red rose with black leaves. “I really like your tat. Wish I could get one, but my mom would kill me.”

  “Thanks,” he said again. He looked thrilled that she was speaking to him. “I got the tattoo after my mother died. Roses were her favorite flower.”

  He gave her a smile and a wave as he walked away, and while Ava wouldn’t go so far as to say that she’d made his day, perhaps she had. And that was a good thing.

  She resumed staring at Xander, who was encouraging a group of boys to try their hand at Hoop Shot. He’d be on break soon, and they’d been taking their breaks together a lot. Maybe it was because Ava snuck him free hot dogs, but she didn’t think so. Unlike Katya, who didn’t understand the appeal of Elm Street, Xander was supportive of her goal to work in one—or all—of the horror attractions. She’d told him about the weekend she’d spent at Fear Fest with her dad two years ago, when a demented clown had jumped out at them inside the Clown Museum and she’d screamed so hard the clown actually covered his ears. She had never seen her dad laugh to the point of tears, and the story had made Xander laugh, too.

  For that, and for so many other reasons, she adored Xander.

  Rumor had it that Bianca Bishop adored Xander, too. Normally Ava didn’t put much stock in rumors—they were as ubiquitous as the stinky Axe body spray that all the boys wore—but this one bugged her. She didn’t want to think about Xander hooking up with someone, let alone somebody that old.

  He wouldn’t hook up with the CEO, would he?

  Speaking of the Dragon Lady, Bianca Bishop was making her way down the midway. Her vibrant red hair, though it was always pulled back into a bun, made her easy to spot from a distance, and Ava immediately straightened up. She and Katya agreed there was no way the red could be the CEO’s natural color—the shade was too intense, and too pretty.

  Bianca Bishop had been in the midway a lot lately, and she always said hello to Xander when she was. This only fueled the rumors, but clearly she remembered him, as she was the one who’d hired him. While Xander seemed to like her, the Dragon Lady made everyone else nervous. Even Ava, who had an alpha female for a mother, found herself more than a little self-conscious whenever the CEO was nearby. Because Bianca Bishop was always watching.

  Just yesterday, for instance, Shane Cardiff had griped openly to his supervisor about working at the little kids’ Merry-Go-Round for the third day in a row (mainly because there was no opportunity to meet girls his own age there). Bianca had been standing nearby when he was complaining, and she’d pulled him from the gig immediately. He was now cleaning the men’s john inside the food court, which was the most used—and therefore the dirtiest—bathroom in the entire park. And not just for one day. Shane was scheduled there all week.

  It was best to be invisible whenever Bianca Bishop was around. Being invisible meant doing your job with a smile and not doing anything that might catch her eye. Since she had no guests to serve at the moment—always guests, never visitors—Ava made a point of wiping down the sides of the grill. It wasn’t dirty, but as her food services training video had proclaimed no less than five times: time to lean, time to clean. She figured the Dragon Lady would walk right by like she always did, but this time, the woman stopped.

  “Hello,” Ava said with a shy smile.

  Bianca’s eyes flickered down to the employee ID card clipped to Ava’s purple shirt, which all the Wonder Workers were required to wear on park grounds. It had her name and photo on it. “Ava Castro. Hello. I’m Bianca Bishop.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I recognize you. It’s nice to meet you.” From across the way, Ava could see Xander staring at them. Their eyes met for a split second, and Xander deliberately made a goofy face to try and get her to laugh. She immediately redirected her gaze back to the CEO.

  “Has it been busy?” Bianca asked.

  “It’s been steady,” Ava said. You never, ever said you weren’t busy. Managers and higher-ups didn’t want to hear that it was slow. If it was slow, it was somehow your fault and suddenly you were on bathroom duty. “I had a lineup a little while ago and so I just refilled the condiments.” The second part was true; the first part wasn’t.

  Bianca was scrutinizing her now, and on reflex Ava stood up even straighter. Was her purple golf shirt clean and pressed and tucked in neatly? Check. Were her khaki shorts an acceptable length (no shorter than four inches above the knee)? Check. Was her long hair tied back from her face? Check. Were her fingernails clean and bare of polish (you weren’t allowed to wear nail polish if you worked in food)? Check.

  “Your mom is the new deputy chief of Seaside PD, isn’t she?” Bianca said.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  The woman nodded. “That’s what I thought. I haven’t had a chance to meet her yet. When you talk to her next, tell her to come by my office the next time she’s here at the park. I’d love to say hello and introduce myself. Wonderland has always maintained a close relationship with the Seaside Police Department.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I will.” It didn’t seem appropriate to mention that Ava was not exactly on speaking terms with her mother, nor did she plan to start speaking to her anytime soon. The only person who could hold a grudge longer than Vanessa Castro was Ava Castro. “She’ll be here a lot this summer, I’m sure. My little brother loves it here, and he’s been bugging her to take him.”

  “So what brought you all to Seaside?” The CEO’s eyes were green, and they seemed to miss nothing. “Your mother was a detective in Seattle, wasn’t she?”

  “Well . . .” Ava wasn’t sure how to answer. She’d been asked that question before by a few of the Wonder Workers she’d met so far, and would certainly be asked that question again when she started at Seaside Academy in the fall. She hadn’t yet figured out her stock answer, so she decided to go with the truth. “My dad died six months ago, so my mom thought it would be good for us to get a fresh start.”

  “I see. Well, I’m sorry to hear that.” Bianca’s face didn’t change. The words were right, but her tone was strangely wooden. “And how are you enjoying making hot dogs?”

  “It’s—” The change of subject seemed abrupt, almost harsh. “It’s fine,” Ava said. “I like it.”

  The CEO didn’t blink. “Of course you like it. But if you had your choice, is there a particular gig you’d prefer?”

  “Well . . .” Ava swallowed. “I mean, someday, it would be
really great to snag an Elm Street gig. I was here for Fear Fest a couple years back and it was a lot of fun.”

  “You like that kind of thing.” It should have been a question, but it came out a statement. “Which attraction in particular?”

  “I . . .” Ava was caught off guard. “They’re all great.”

  “But if you had to pick one.”

  “The Clown Museum, I guess,” Ava said, since it was the first attraction that came to mind. “I think it’s . . . really cool.”

  “Not too many Wonder Workers would choose the Clown Museum,” Bianca said. “How interesting.”

  “I love the Clown Museum!” Normally she prided herself on not gushing, but the woman’s lack of emotion made Ava want to be overly enthusiastic, as if to make up for it. “It would be awesome to help put the displays together, or to dress up like a crazy clown and scare people. But I know you have to be at least sixteen.”

  “Usually you do,” Bianca said. “But what matters most is aptitude and maturity. You seem to possess both. And my uncle Nick firmly believes that it’s important to place Wonder Workers in jobs they love.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I read his email this morning, and I do plan to apply for an Elm Street gig when I turn sixteen. I still have a year and a half to go.”

  “You’ve already thought that far ahead.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Ava smiled. “I’d love to stay at Wonderland until I go to college, assuming we stay here in Seaside.”

  “I see. Thank you for sharing. Have a good day, Ava.”

  The CEO continued on down the midway, pausing briefly to say hello to Xander like she always did. Around them, purple-shirted Wonder Workers whispered, and Ava found herself wishing that Xander wasn’t so friendly with the woman. He was just giving everyone more reason to gossip.

  When the Dragon Lady was completely out of sight, Ava leaned against the side of her cart, trying to figure out what it was about the woman that was bothering her. It wasn’t the rumors about her and Xander; they were just rumors. It wasn’t the CEO’s strong personality, either; Ava dealt with that every day at home. And it wasn’t that she was mean, or strict, or a bitch, because those things weren’t an issue as long as you didn’t get on her bad side.

  It was that Bianca Bishop was . . . fake.

  She was speaking to you, but yet not really engaged. She said the right things, but the words didn’t feel like they came from a genuine place. She seemed nice, but Ava had no doubt she’d throw you under the bus if you stood in the way of anything she wanted, and feel no guilt or remorse about it.

  Sociopathic was a word Ava was familiar with, thanks to countless episodes of Law & Order SVU and Criminal Minds. Not that Bianca Bishop was a criminal. Of course she wasn’t. She was the CEO of Wonderland.

  But if she was a criminal . . . if, say, she was a serial killer or something, it would make for a damn good episode of Criminal Minds, wouldn’t it?

  NINETEEN

  Oscar had been tasked with expediting Ava Castro’s transfer from food services to Elm Street, a process that normally took up to four weeks, provided that the Wonder Worker qualified for the new job. But Bianca Bishop had spoken. Ava was the daughter of Seaside PD’s deputy chief, she reminded Oscar, and it was in the park’s best interest to keep the girl happy.

  Oscar was more concerned with making the girl’s mother happy. He hadn’t heard from Vanessa at all since the day Homeless Harry showed up in the midway, and he’d been thinking about her. A lot.

  “Bianca thinks Ava will work out well,” Oscar was saying to Anne-Marie Riker now. Anne-Marie was one of the Elm Street managers, a busy but friendly woman who always preferred to handpick her own Wonder Workers. “I’ll send her over tomorrow at 10 a.m. I’d consider it a favor if you worked with her personally.”

  “But she’s only fourteen, Oz.” The displeasure in Anne-Marie’s voice was obvious. “I’m not sure I have anything appropriate.”

  “You’ll find something.”

  The subtext was clear. This was not a request. Anne-Marie, five rungs down in the Wonderland food chain, knew damn well she had no choice in the matter. If the VP of operations asked you to do something, you did it, no questions asked.

  With that taken care of, Oscar swiveled his chair to face the window, where the Avenue was bustling below. Soundproofed walls and windows prevented any sounds from penetrating into the administrative building, and it was as if the mute button had been pressed on Wonderland: The Movie. There was no comparison between the original World of Wonder and the park as it was today. Wonderland had evolved significantly over the past twenty years, and the new version was bigger, brighter, and busier. Back in the eighties, there had been no purple uniforms, no Human Resources Department, no employee handbook, no weekly pep talk emails to the Wonder Workers. There was certainly no Bandstand Amphitheater or summer concert series, and the midway back then had contained maybe fifteen games at most, all independently owned by whichever “carnie” had paid to set up shop in the park. Jack Shaw’s vision for World of Wonder had been disjointed at best, but nobody had seemed to mind back then.

  Little did the public know that he’d built World of Wonder as bait. Because Jack Shaw had been a monster. And what better way to prey on boys of a certain age than to build an amusement park, which made them come to him?

  The abuse hadn’t happened right away. Oh, no. And it hadn’t happened to every boy who’d worked for Shaw. Not at all. Jack Shaw was particular about the boys he chose, and he targeted only a certain kind of boy. The ones whose fathers weren’t in the picture. The ones whose mothers were too busy to notice anything was wrong. The ones who wanted—craved—his attention, who wanted to feel special, who were missing a father figure and who would do anything to please Shaw and win his approval.

  Boys like Oscar.

  • • •

  It had been Isabel Trejo’s idea that her son apply to World of Wonder. Oz hadn’t been interested at first. Who had the time or energy for a job? He was fourteen, and baseball was his life. Posters of Cal Ripken, Jr., wallpapered his room. He played in leagues year-round and was a rookie on his high school junior team, with dreams of making varsity the following year. It was likely to happen, his coach assured him, as long as he stayed focused.

  So when the news hit that business tycoon Jack Shaw was returning to Seaside to build an amusement park, Oz merely thought it was a cool idea. World of Wonder could be a good place for him and his friends to hang out, because there wasn’t a whole lot to do in Seaside. And sometimes you needed a break from baseball, you know?

  Isabel Trejo, of course, had a lot of opinions about the new amusement park.

  “It’s either gonna be the greatest thing Seaside has ever seen, or the ugliest thing Seaside has ever seen,” she’d told her teenage son over breakfast. She turned her mouth to the side so she wouldn’t blow a stream of smoke into his face while he was eating his eggs. “This town could use a pick-me-up, sure as shit. An amusement park will bring in the tourists, who’ll need places to eat and sleep and party. Hell, maybe we’ll finally get a shopping mall. Or a movie theater that shows more than two movies. But the whole thing could also flop.”

  “Why would it flop?” Oz asked, swallowing the last of his omelet.

  “Because it’s a risk, Ozzie Bear. This is Seaside. Pretty beach or no pretty beach, we’re three hours south of Seattle, two hours west of Tacoma, and three and a half hours north of Portland. We’re in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. Finish your eggs. I want you in line by eight thirty.”

  “Ma, I said I don’t want to work there. I’m playing in two baseball leagues this summer.”

  She eyed him through a cloud of smoke. “You think I give a shit about baseball? Baseball doesn’t pay the bills. You’re fourteen and it’s time you got a job. The house payment ain’t getting any cheaper, and your dad ain’t kicking in shit. Gas costs money. Clothes
cost money. Baseball costs money. Food costs money, and god knows you eat more each week than a small village in Africa. Life costs money, Ozzie Bear.”

  And cigarettes cost money, Oz thought. So does wine. What do you spend a week on booze and smokes, Ma?

  “You have zero work experience, and a job at the amusement park is your best bet for getting hired. I read in the paper they’re looking to hire a hundred people minimum for the summer. No reason one of them can’t be you.” She took another drag on her cigarette. “Now finish your milk and I’ll drive you over. Wear your raincoat. You could be in line for a while.”

  It was the first Monday of March break, and World of Wonder was conducting a hiring fair all week. You could fill out the job application while waiting in line, and be granted an interview on the spot. If they liked you, you were hired, it was as easy as that. Oz knew of at least five other boys his age who were planning to apply. The park would hire all week until the positions were filled, and the fair started at 9 a.m. He joined the line at 8:45. There were already sixty people ahead of him, most of them under the age of twenty-one.

  By 11 a.m., Oz left the park with a couple of tax forms to fill out and a summer job lined up. Training was to begin a week before school let out in June, and they didn’t mind that he played baseball.

  “We wants kids like you,” the hiring manager had said. “Kids who exude energy and fun. If you give your supervisor your baseball schedule, we’ll work around it.”

  The first summer at the park was the greatest of his life. Oz hadn’t expected to enjoy working so much, but every day was awesome. World of Wonder was small enough to feel intimate, but large enough to attract a ton of tourists from the surrounding areas. Every day brought new adventures, and he had opportunities to work in food, guest services, and once, when Colin Brace was out with the flu, his supervisor allowed him to operate the Wonder Wheel.

  And Jack Shaw himself was around a lot. All the kids, boys and girls, loved him. When Jack Shaw stopped to talk to you, it was like you were the only person in the world who existed at that moment. He talked to you like you were a real person. He asked for your opinions. He laughed at your jokes. When one of the managers mentioned that Oz played baseball in a summer league, Shaw had showed up at the game, bringing popcorn for everybody. Oz had been floored, and then floored again when his coach told him that World of Wonder was now his team’s official sponsor.