Carnival of Dead Girls

by Carissa Ann Lynch

  We sat quietly, each of us considering our options. “So, it sounds like what we need to do is explore Pockets’ personal living quarters and find a way to get into that backroom,” Rachel said finally. “I think I can come up with a plan,” she added, still deep in thought.

  I don’t know why, but I trusted her. And I knew she’d help me find out the truth about Freya’s disappearance. One way or another.

  Chapter

  Twenty-One

  Lucy’s trailer was small and compact, but neatly decorated and well cared for. It consisted of a tiny kitchenette, living room space, one bathroom, and one bedroom. Just enough space for one person while on the road.

  Rachel and I were temporarily camped out in her living room. Despite the late night hour, Lucy cooked for us when we finished up with the carnival—pan-seared chicken, string beans, and applesauce straight from the jar. I was so hungry I would have eaten anything.

  The first time I’d met her—at home, in Lamison—I’d felt sorry for her because of her condition. But watching her smiling face as she glided around the kitchen and chatted with her daughter, I saw her for who she was—a normal, happy person.

  The lighting in the trailer was dim, so we ate by candlelight at the tiny foldout table that sat in the middle of the floor, between the kitchen and living room. It wasn’t the kind of meal I’d expected to eat in a small trailer in the middle of a meadow, right behind a creepy carnival and next door to a real-life House of Horrors.

  But I enjoyed the meal and company immensely. And I didn’t feel a bit tired.

  “What is your condition called?” I asked, immediately feeling rude and foolish for blurting out such a personal question. But Lucy didn’t seem to mind one bit.

  “It’s called ‘pogoniasis,’” she explained. “It’s caused by an excess of androgens, which are a type of hormone. My mother and her mother both had the same condition. I usually shave when I’m not on the road, so Rachel isn’t used to seeing me like this,” she said, smiling sheepishly at her daughter.

  Lucy went on to describe the difficulties that she faced throughout her childhood because of her condition. The woman had overcome a great deal of adversity in her life, and I couldn’t help admiring her for it.

  “Kids these days try so hard to be different so they can stand out. Well, I never had that problem. I just used it to my advantage instead of letting it get me down.” I couldn’t help thinking about my recent trip to the piercing salon and changing my clothes to look different for Freya. Maybe I just need to start learning to be happy with who I am, like Lucy, I considered thoughtfully.

  After sharing supper and taking turns in the shower, Lucy headed off to sleep in her own bedroom, and the two of us took a seat on the floor in the living room. Rachel sat in a strange Indian-style position that I couldn’t imitate even if I wanted to. I sat down on the sofa, noting the time. It was nearly 2:30 a.m.

  “Your mom is amazing,” I said, smiling at Rachel. “I know you don’t see her often, but you’re lucky to have her.” I couldn’t help thinking of my own mom, trying to imagine the contours of her face. Her lopsided grin. Her goofy pranks, chasing me through the house, having spoon fights…

  “Okay, I have a plan,” Rachel said, getting straight to business.

  “I’m all ears,” I said, forgetting my mom.

  “Tonight,” she said seriously, “we’re going to check out the living quarters of our fellow carnies, especially Pockets and that crony of his, Joseph. Hopefully, we’ll be able to discover something about Freya. But at the very least, we can try to learn something about the key.” I stared at her, baffled.

  “What key?” I asked, perplexed.

  “The key to the back barn of the freak show, of course,” she answered, looking pleased with herself. “I watched that door like a hawk, especially toward the end of the night. There is a man who sits on a stool, and his only job is to manage the novelty store, and to make sure that no one tries to go into that room in the back—unless that person is one of three people: Malachi, Joseph, or Pockets. As the evening was closing out, I saw Pockets leave, and then Malachi and Joseph came up behind him and locked it tight with one of those silver skeleton keys. The key was attached to a long silver keychain with one of those hooks that attaches to your pants pocket. I’m pretty sure I saw a similar key around Malachi’s neck.”

  “You’re not really suggesting we break into Malachi’s house and slip the key out of his pocket, are you?” My stomach instantly filled with nervous jitters.

  “Hell no. I’m not that crazy! But we do need to find out where they keep it at night. Because if it’s on their necks all day long at the carnival, our only hope of getting to it is when they’re passed out. Let’s hope they hang it up somewhere or stick it somewhere we can gain access to.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. She sounded like a natural sleuth.

  I was surprised to hear myself say, “Let’s do it!”

  Chapter

  Twenty-Two

  We waited until it was good and dark before quietly slipping out of Lucy’s trailer. Dressed in our blackest clothes, we crept through the dew-laden grass, looking around for people. The House of Horrors was dark. Moonlight danced across the surface of the river.

  There were nearly two dozen trailers dotting the empty lots beside the old house. Vendors had covered their booths with plastic and cloth tarps, and rides sat eerily silent.

  Rachel carried only her backpack, which she strapped tightly to her back. It contained a few meaningless items, but most importantly, the Maglites and more snacks. “In case it turns into a long night and we get hungry,” she’d explained when I looked at the pack crazily.

  The living quarters consisted of approximately twenty trailers scattered across a five-acre field behind the carnival. “How the hell are we going to know whose trailer is whose?” I asked, overwhelmed by the number of trailers sitting around us.

  “Well, we won’t, at least not exactly,” Rachel said solemnly. “But…and you can thank me for this later, I asked my mom a few innocent-sounding questions today about which trailers some of her co-workers lived in, so I have an idea about some of them.”

  I smiled, relieved. Rachel was so quick-witted and wonderful, I thought admirably. And beautiful.

  “You are a diabolical genius, you know that?” I whispered, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Let’s just see how this goes first, and then you can fawn over me afterwards,” she said, returning my smile.

  “According to my mom, Malachi’s trailer sits on the far west corner, over near the tree line. He is farthest away from us, so we will hit his place last. Pockets and some of the other guys share a trailer, and according to Mom, they’re a few doors down from Malachi. Joseph shares a trailer with his wife and son, and they are located on the corner closest to the back end of the freak show tent. I say we head that way first. As far as the other people…I stopped paying attention to what she said after that,” she said apologetically.

  “Let’s head in that direction, but I also say we peek in as many windows as we can along the way, just in case Freya is hiding out in one of them,” she added smartly.

  I nodded my consent, moving forward wordlessly. I placed a finger to my lips, reminding her that as we approached we had to stay silent.

  We stayed at a steady, even pace, not wanting to draw attention to ourselves in case someone was watching. Rachel walked with a delicacy in her step, soft and light like a ballerina. I tried my best to mimic her actions.

  The first trailer we came upon was dark, with only one small light shining through the kitchen window area. Rachel was too short to reach the windowsill, which was fine by me because I’d prefer to be the one to get caught if it came down to that.

  I crept silently to the edge of the sill, leaning up on the tips of my toes to peer in. The inside layout on this trailer was nearly identical to Lucy’s. I immediately saw three men stretched out sleeping on the living room floor, blanket and pillows spread o
ut beneath them. I recognized their faces—the Ferris wheel and bumper car operators. I pointed a finger, signaling to Rachel we should move onward to the next trailer.

  We snuck past five more trailers on the way to the one Rachel thought belonged to Joseph and his family. The first three contained sleeping concessionaires, and the last two were too dark to see anything at all.

  “I think that’s his.” Rachel pointed ahead to a rundown trailer on the corner of the back end of the freak show tent. There were a couple lights shining from the trailer, and I hesitated nervously as we got close.

  Inching up to the living room window, I tentatively peered through a pair of slotted blinds. I jumped back instantly, startled. The last person I’d expected to see was Evan. In fact, the location of his trailer never even crossed my mind before we started searching. But there he was, curled up sleeping on a twin-sized bed.

  I squatted down next to the trailer. I signaled for Rachel to do the same.

  “I think Joseph is Evan’s dad,” I softly whispered. Her eyes widened.

  A plan was suddenly beginning to form in my mind. I didn’t necessarily like the plan, but it might be our only option at this point.

  Signaling again for her to follow me, we slunk along the grassy meadow to the far west corner where Pockets’ and Malachi’s trailer supposedly sat. First, we slipped up to Pockets’ fully darkened windows.

  The pale glow of the moon illuminated the ugly contours of Pockets’ scarred face. He was—thankfully—sleeping like the dead. For the first time, it occurred to me that he must have been inside one of the houses when it caught fire a few years ago, and that’s how he earned his scars. I remembered the story Rachel told me, about the girls trying to burn down the town…

  I darted around to the other side of the trailer, peering into the living room and kitchen area windows. Besides Pockets in the bed, the trailer was completely empty. If Freya’s hiding out, she’s not doing it in Pockets’ trailer, I realized, disappointed.

  Next, Rachel and I made our way toward the last trailer for inspection. The tip of my sneaker got snagged in some sort of animal hole and I fell face first in the grass. “Ugh…” Rachel helped me up, shushing me in my ear. My knee ached fiercely.

  Staring ahead at the final trailer, it looked oddly darker than the rest and more decrepit. I didn’t hold out much hope that I’d be able to see anything since it was completely cloaked in blackness, but I shimmied up to the front kitchen window and attempted to take a look inside.

  “What on Earth are you doing out there, girl?” yelled Malachi, throwing open the trailer door with a bang. Heavy, untied work boots stomped onto the porch.

  But the only thing I saw was the high-powered pistol in his hand.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Three

  “U-ummm…” I stammered, not knowing what to say to this menacing-looking man with a gun. Thank God Rachel was there to help me out, as usual.

  “Sir,” she said, raising her hands unthreateningly. “I’m sorry we disturbed you. We were just looking to see if you were awake before knocking because we didn’t want to wake you up.”

  Malachi made a hurry up motion with his hands. I could literally hear both of our hearts beating as we stood helpless at the end of his gun.

  “We were wondering if we could talk to you about making our current positions with the carnival permanent. We’ve enjoyed working here and we’d really like to stick around, if that’s all right with you…” Rachel lied.

  “Well, creeping around my house at two in the morning is not the way to get yourself a job, missy!” he scolded her. But then he smiled slightly and said, “Okay. You and the other one—you can stay on.”

  He pointed an accusatory finger at me. “No fighting. No shit-starting, in general. Ya got it?” I swallowed a lump in my throat, barely understanding his words. I was just happy to see the barrel of the gun drop.

  I nodded solemnly. Then we both darted off, running back to Lucy’s trailer as fast as we possibly could. Once inside, I could finally breathe again.

  “Whew! That was a close call.” Rachel plopped down on the floor next to the couch. I sank into the cushions, removing my shoes. I was still a little shocked by the gun.

  “It’s okay,” she assured me, reaching out to touch my leg. “We made it out of there without getting shot at least, right?”

  I nodded, placing my hand on top of hers.

  “Well, I don’t think we got too much accomplished tonight,” she said, sighing loudly.

  “Sure we did.” She stared at me, waiting. I smiled. “You’re not the only genius around these parts,” I teased.

  Surprised, she squeezed my hand as hard as she could and demanded, “What did you figure out?”

  “If Evan is Joseph’s son, and Joseph has a key, all I have to do is find a way to get Evan to take me back to his house. I don’t exactly know how I’ll get a hold of the key once I get inside, or how I’ll talk my way inside in the first place, but it’s worth a shot, don’t you think?”

  Rachel’s eyes widened. “That is the best idea we’ve had so far,” she said. “Now let’s get some sleep.”

  We unrolled two sleeping bags her mother had left out for us. I stretched out on mine and Rachel on hers. After an hour of fidgeting, she finally rolled to her side, facing away from me. Gently, I draped my arm over her, enjoying the smell of her hair.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Four

  I tracked down Evan on my lunch break. “Hey, man! You want to grab a bite to eat with me for lunch?” I asked, leaning up against the booth where Evan stood, counting out a stack of dollar bills from the milk toss game.

  “I thought you’d be eating lunch with your girlfriend,” Evan said, not looking up from the wad of bills. I could hear the bitterness in his tone, but for now I chose to ignore it.

  “Honestly, that girl is kind of getting on my nerves.”

  Evan looked up, suddenly interested in this change of topic. But then, trying to play it cool, he shrugged and looked back down at his bills.

  “Yeah, I was wondering when you’d get sick of that chick. She seems like she can be pretty damn annoying, if you ask me. Do you think she’ll grow a beard like her mom someday?” Evan asked, throwing back his narcissistic head as he chuckled.

  It took every bit of willpower I had not to punch this asshole. But remembering the plan I’d discussed with Rachel, I said, “No, I hadn’t thought of that. But that’s a really good point, Evan.” He smiled, pleased with himself for making such a noteworthy observation. Fucking dick, I thought, clenching my teeth.

  We shared chili cheese fries and pork chop sandwiches at a shaded picnic table caddy corner to the Big Top. “Isn’t it nice not having to deal with all that chatter while you eat? That Rachel girl…she seems loud and obnoxious.” Evan stuffed his face with fries.

  She didn’t seem that way at all to me. I could deal without all of your stupid chatter, Evan, I thought, biting my tongue.

  “You want to hang out tonight when you get off work? Maybe ride a few rides or check out that freak show again? I really want to get a closer look at that six legged horse,” I said, pushing my fry basket aside. The look on Evan’s face clearly revealed his excitement. I wondered if he thought I liked him. Ugh.

  “Sure. But what about Rachel?” he asked skeptically.

  “Screw her,” I said. I stood up and walked away.

  ***

  When darkness fell, I stuck the closed sign on the front of my booth and made my way over to Evan’s game station.

  “Just finishing up!” Moments later, he was by my side. “So, what do you want to do first?” he asked eagerly.

  I fought the urge to say, Kick you in the face.

  “How about the freak tent?” I suggested instead. Evan looked more than happy to follow me there.

  I made a beeline for the two-headed cat display, but my only real focus was the locked door in the back. The man on the stool still sat at his post. From what I could see, no
body else was around.

  “What’s in that room?” I asked bluntly, turning to look at Evan. Evan shrugged. “Just a bunch of supplies. Nothing of any real importance in there.”

  I felt disappointed, not getting more information out of him.

  “Let’s go check it out,” I dared.

  “Nah. My uh…Dad keeps it locked up tight because it’s full of expensive supplies. He carries that key in his pocket with him everywhere he goes. He’d kill me if he caught me snooping around in there,” Evan explained, his cheeks reddening slightly. I realized then that he was afraid of his dad, and his claim that there was nothing important inside was a lie.

  Deciding it was pointless to continue pursuing this topic, I changed the subject. “Let’s go see those conjoined twins again.”

  As we made our way over to the Siamese twin exhibit, I immediately spotted Rachel. She was walking toward us, a pissed off expression on her face. She stopped in front of me, hands poised on her hips. She didn’t look happy, to say the least.

  “What the hell?” she said, throwing up her hands in disgust. “I thought we were supposed to hang out tonight! Why are you with him?” she asked, pointing at Evan. The two rivals shared a look of utter disdain.

  “Hey! Evan is my friend and I can hang out with him any time I want!”

  “Oh yeah? Well, find yourself somewhere else to crash tonight then, because I don’t want you sleeping over at my mom’s with me.”

  As Rachel strutted away, I tried not to smile.

  Evan, unsurprisingly, was amused by this encounter. “No worries, Josie. You can stay with me at my mom and dad’s tonight. In fact, you can stay with us as long as you need to. I’m sure they won’t mind.”

  “Really? You’d do that for me?” I stared at him innocently.

  “Sure. What are friends for?”

  As we made our way toward more freak show exhibits, I couldn’t help feeling excited. Our plan—Rachel’s and mine—had been pulled off flawlessly.