by JL Bryan
“We weren’t supposed to go yet,” Victoria said. “We still have to meet with the artist guy, do more research—”
“I told them that! I think they were just eager to go once they had the idea. They probably decided to go tonight and forgot to tell me until they were there.”
“Did you tell them it might be haunted?”
“I tried, but they didn’t seem to care. I hope they’re okay.” Carter clicked the phone number from Jared’s missed call. Jared must have changed his cell number since middle school, since Carter didn’t recognize it. It was an 850 number, though, the area code for their town as well as the entire Florida panhandle.
The phone rang three times, and then it made a clicking sound, followed by a mechanical whirr like an old-fashioned tape player. A man’s voice answered in a dead flat monotone.
“Thank you for calling Starland Amusement Park,” the voice said. “We are closed for the season, but you may leave us a message.” A loud beep sounded.
“That’s really weird,” Carter said as he hung up. “His number goes to a voice mail for the amusement park.”
“Why would they have an active phone number? They’ve been closed for five years, right?”
“That’s what makes it weird. Plus I thought he was calling from a cell phone, because he said they were just going inside when he called.” Carter tried again and reached the same recording. He sighed and stood up. “I’d better go in there and check on them. Can you drive me?”
“I’m going in with you.” She got up and pulled on her jeans over her wet swim suit.
“There’s too much weird stuff happening with the park. I’d feel better if you waited in the car with the engine running and ready to go, in case it’s too freaky in there.”
“You’re not going in by yourself.”
Carter didn’t keep up the argument very long, because he knew Victoria was determined to pay a return visit to the amusement park anyway. He’d hoped to put it off a lot longer, though, if he had to go back at all. Now he felt responsible for sending in Jared and whoever Jared had dragged along.
They shook the sand from their towels as they climbed the rickety steps over the high, moonlit dunes.
Chapter Fourteen
Jared led the group along the concrete path under Crashdown Falls and past the Log Drop, swinging his flashlight. He stopped when he reached the round central plaza of Pirate Island, and everybody stopped with him.
“Holy shit,” he whispered. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
He’d expected nothing but overgrown, collapsed ruins. The last time he’d been here, five years earlier, the pavement itself had shattered into irregular little pieces that made walking almost impossible. Now everything looked completely intact, at least in this corner of the park, as though the park were still in operation and had simply shut down for the night.
“What’s wrong?” Becca whispered. His girlfriend was walking very close to him, her arm through his.
“It’s exactly like I remember it, before the sinkhole.”
“Of course it is,” Finn said. “They locked it all up and left it here.”
“I remember that place.” Derek nodded at the giant red wooden crab, scratching his patchy goatee. “They had fish sandwiches. No crab, though.”
“This is all so creepy,” Tamara said. Her friend Elissa, the freakish girl with the purple lipstick that just had to be reapplied every fifteen minutes, clung close to her side. “Do you guys think it’s really haunted?”
“Shh! Don’t say that!” Elissa whispered.
Heath, the large, quiet, lumbering sophomore with the golden earring, lagged behind the girls, walking alone and saying nothing.
Jared shook his head. He was probably the only person in their group who’d actually been there when the sinkhole had opened. Clearly nobody but him understood the kind of destruction that had hit the park.
Now everything in the park looked intact, not even dirty or neglected. Harpoon Lagoon and the Gone Fishing game were still there, closed down and padlocked as though waiting for business the next day. He couldn’t see the bumper boats in their elevated concrete pond, but the green dome of Jungle Land was illuminated by spotlights, which made no sense at all.
“Why are the lights on?” Becca asked as they passed Jungle Land. Statues of tigers and elephants cavorted out front, in the zigzagging rope bridge area where people lined up to ride.
“Yeah, there shouldn’t be any lights,” Elissa said.
“Probably solar or something,” Finn said. “My grandma has those in her front yard. Little fucking gnomes holding solar-powered spotlights.”
“Remember, we are kind of looking for Reeves and that other kid while we’re here,” Jared said.
“Who cares about them?” Derek snorted. “I just want to get hammered.”
“Even if they came here, would they really stay here for a week? Or is it two weeks now?” Becca asked.
“Closer to two weeks,” Heath said from the back of the group, a rare vocal moment for him. His voice sounded hoarse, probably from never being used. “And if they’re still here, it’s because they’re dead.”
“Thank you, Heath,” Becca said.
“Seriously? Dead?” Tamara asked.
“Why would you say that, Heath?” asked Tamara’s friend Elissa.
“Maybe there’s some psycho serial killer guy living in here,” Derek said. “That’s who put up the lights. That’s who killed Reeves and Kevin. Probably watching us now.”
“I don’t want to be here anymore,” Tamara announced.
“I’ll protect you, girl,” Finn said, dropping back to walk alongside her. Tamara smiled up at him, while Elissa frowned.
“Dude, where are you getting this psycho killer stuff, Derek?” Jared asked.
“Look around,” Derek said. “I’ve worked with my uncle before, clearing out foreclosed houses. A place gets neglected for a couple of years around here, there should be weeds growing up through the pavement, vines climbing the buildings...some of those wooden booths should have plants growing on top of them by now. The jungle comes back fast. Somebody’s been taking care of this place, weeding it, touching up the paint...” Derek shook his head. “Somebody’s been here. A lot.”
“You might have a point,” Jared said as they stepped onto the midway. The wide central avenue was badly cracked, but not full of holes and jagged asphalt edges jutting up like he remembered. It would have taken a huge amount of work to smooth all those broken chunks into a level surface.
He walked into the center of the midway, gaping, feeling himself go weak.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Becca whispered, staying close to his side.
“It shouldn’t be like this,” Jared said. His heart was pounding. “Some of these buildings should be collapsed or burned. That cotton candy stand, I know I saw that on fire...”
“I still can’t believe you actually saw all those kids die,” Becca said. She sounded more impressed than horrified. “That must have been amazing.”
“The carousel was gone before I looked. I saw the swings go down. Then it spread toward the roller coaster...” Jared was staring off into deep space, seeing all of it again. “We waited until she came out of Inferno Mountain, and then we ran.”
“Who?”
“Me and Carter.”
“Who came out of Inferno Mountain?” Becca asked.
Jared shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is this place is all messed up—”
“Oh, yeah! Are you people seeing this?” Finn started up the midway toward the front gate.
A soft light glowed from somewhere down the midway, and Finn was running toward it. The rest of the group followed slowly, Jared and Becca slowest of all.
“Come on, man,” Heath said as he passed them. “Maybe it’s what we’re looking for.”
“Are you having bad memories?” Becca asked him.
“No, I’m good.” Jared was determined not to look weak or
scared in front of everyone. “Let’s go.”
The soft light seemed inviting, a warm, happy color that made him feel hungry. As he and Becca walked closer, catching up to the rest of the group, the source suddenly became clear: a booth shaped like an old-timey wooden beer keg, about twelve feet tall. The middle third of it had swung open like a door to reveal the single large serving window.
The neon letters above the window read THE KEG STAND, and smaller neon signs advertised BEER and CIDER. The wide counter at the front of the window was occupied by rows of clear plastic cups filled to the top with beer: pale ales, reddish ciders, dark lagers and stouts, dozens of beers just sitting out waiting to be taken. They were cold, too, judging by the hundreds of tiny droplets of moisture clinging to the outside of each cup.
“Holy cow, is it free beer night?” Finn asked.
“I wouldn’t drink it,” Jared said.
“Why not?” Derek asked him.
“Because, man, it’s just sitting out here. Where did it come from? Who poured it? Is it five years old or what?” Jared asked.
“Don’t look five years old to me,” said Heath. The big sophomore picked a lager and took a big slurp.
“Eww! Did you see that?” Tamara asked Elissa. “He actually drank it!”
“What’s it taste like?” Becca asked, her upper lip curling a little in disgust. Even then, she was damned pretty, Jared thought, with her big, dark eyes and soft lips.
Heath drew the cup away from his lip with a funny scowl on his face. He held the cup up as though inspecting it.
“What, man?” Derek asked.
“That’s the best beer I ever tasted,” Heath said. “Wonder what brand it is.”
He downed the rest in two long slurps, foam streaming down the sides of his face. He tossed it aside and guzzled another one, pausing only to belch.
“We’ll see if it kills Heath,” Finn said. “Then we’ll know if it’s safe.”
“Hell, I ain’t waiting.” Derek grabbed a black stout, peered into it, and took a tiny sample sip. His eyebrows shot up, and he took another big taste, then a full swallow. He held the cup out to Finn. “This is good. Try it.”
“I’ll get my own. God knows what kind of diseases you get from those skanky girls you hang out with.”
“Like your standards are so high,” Derek said. “I’m surprised you don’t have wiener rot.”
Finn grabbed a cup of dark beer, dipped his finger into it, and tasted it. He had the same reaction as Derek, taking several more drinks right away and nodding. “Yeah. That’s good stuff. I’ve never tasted anything like it. What do you want to drink, Tamara?”
“Guess.” The white-blond girl smiled, and Finn leaned in close to her face and pretended to study her. Beside her, Elissa scowled, as though she didn’t like Finn getting too close to her friend.
“I’m going to say...cider,” Finn finally guessed.
“Good guess.” Tamara held out her hand and Finn gave her a cup of the reddish drink.
“It’s really good,” Tamara said. “Oh, wow. Really good. You should get one, Elissa.”
The girl’s purple lips frowned. She glanced at Finn, then walked up to the counter and picked a pale ale. Becca stepped up to the counter beside her.
“Wait,” Jared told her. “We brought all this stuff.” He set his cooler onto a picnic table in front of the concessions area and opened the lid. “We’ve got Mickey’s, Miller, PBR...”
“Pour that trash out,” Finn said, raising his cup. “This beer is, like, straight from heaven.”
“Aw, you’re poetic,” Tamara said.
“It’s the Irish in me, lassie,” he said, and Tamara giggled.
“Lassie’s a dog,” Elissa grumbled. She chased her grumbling with another long swig of beer.
“Come on, I’m not carrying all this crap back to my car.” Jared opened a green bottle of Mickey’s malt liquor.
“Everyone else is doing it,” Becca said, with a little pout. “I want to try the cider.”
“It’s the best thing ever.” Tamara closed her eyes in apparent rapture as she guzzled the sparkling drink.
“Don’t do it,” Jared told Becca.
“You think you can stop me?” Becca asked. She picked up a cup of cider, sipped it, and smiled at him, her lips stained a deep red by the drink.
“I told you not to drink that,” he said.
“And now you have to punish me.” She walked toward him with a sway in her hips, her eyes bright in the night. Jared sat on top of the picnic table, drinking his bottle of Mickey’s, and she slunk forward between his knees. “What are you going to do to me?”
“Please don’t make us watch this,” Finn said.
“Have a drink,” Becca urged, holding the cider toward Jared’s lips.
“I don’t want it,” Jared said.
“Are you scared?” Becca asked. “It’s just apples.”
“I don’t care if he’s scared,” Derek said, grabbing himself a second beer. “More for the rest of us.”
“I’m not scared,” Jared told them. He took the cider, drank a cold, sweet sip, and handed it back. “Okay? It’s just...apples...” He gaped along the midway. “Look at that.”
The one sip of cider seemed to have opened his eyes to a thousand things he’d missed before. The entire midway glowed with neon and colored lights, every food stand and game booth open and fully lit, playing their clashing calliope and rock music. The lights of the high rides rose above the park, blotting out the stars above—the American Rockets, the towering oblong shape of Moon Robot, the glowing round spiderweb of the Ferris wheel, and beyond that, the high hills of the Starland Express, Florida’s fifth-oldest roller coaster and one of its longest, trimmed in glowing white lights.
“Oh, this is awesome!” Heath shouted. The nearby concession booths were now fully lit, with pulsing, flashing neon on the outside and warm, buttery light on the inside. Pizza slices glistening with grease on paper plates, crisp corn dogs piled in checkered baskets, and sweet golden-brown funnel cakes dusted with powdered sugar crowded the serving counters. The mingled aroma of the fair food made Jared’s mouth water.
The other guys wasted no time tearing into the deep-fried treats. Heath seemed to make it his mission to eat double helpings of everything. He wrapped a slice of pizza around a corn dog and held it up, proclaiming this dish “nature’s perfect food” before devouring it like an animal.
“Look, the Double Dutch House. I remember that.” Elissa pointed to a booth shaped like a cutesy European cottage. Two of its outer walls had folded away, revealing shelves and shelves of cookies and fudge, all of it illuminated from within by the same sweet yellow light.
Elissa dashed toward it, followed closely by Tamara, and the two sophomore girls squealed in delight as they helped themselves to chocolatey sweets.
Jared took Becca’s hand and led her down the midway, past the Lucky Darts game, where rows of bright balloons waited to popped, past the Whack-A-Frog, which was going through one of its intermittent demos where the frog heads popped up and down from holes in the slanted game table painted to look like a pond with lily pads. The bats hung upside inside the Bat-Ball game, their leathery wings wrapped around them, their velvety purple fur looking bright and new. Jared knew that, if hit with a baseball, the bats would spread their wings as they swung backwards, revealing a comical expression of surprise on their little rodent faces.
The games were fully lit, the neon display above the Knock ‘Em Dead bowling game flashing while the recorded sounds of clattering balls and pins played over the speakers. The Whack-A-Frog played a jazzy tune with intermittent croaks and cricket chirps.
“I wanted some of that chocolate,” Becca whispered.
“None of this should be here,” Jared said, half terrified, half in awe. “It’s just like when I was a kid.” Deep down, in some completely irrational part of himself, this was exactly what he’d hoped to find—the park somehow still alive, his happier childhood memories wai
ting intact for his return. He wished Carter were here to see it, but that guy hadn’t even bothered answering his phone when Jared called.
“I had some good times here when I was little,” Becca said. “My whole family would come once a summer, back when my brother still lived at home. On my eighth birthday, my mom let me bring a couple of friends here. We had such a good time...” Becca’s eyes were glazed over as they reached the central plaza, with the benches and palm trees clustered around the wishing well, the colored arrow signs pointing in all directions.
To their left, the Ferris wheel stood above them, a giant lighted structure against the dark sky, slowly turning even though all its seats were empty—it should have been leaning steeply over the giant black pit of the sinkhole, or have already fallen in during the passing years, but it looked polished and new.
Past the Ferris wheel, the carousel itself rotated around and around, its horses and dragons rising and falling, while pumping out cheerful calliope music that made Jared think of old cartoons. The carousel’s roof flared out like a gold and royal red tent to the elaborate golden filigree designs on its perimeter. The entire structure was lit as lavishly as a palace, every inch of it bright and glittering.
“That really shouldn’t be here,” Jared whispered, pointing. “The entire thing was swallowed in one quick gulp when the sinkhole opened. And where is the sinkhole? It’s gone.”
“Do you think your friend Carter was right?” Becca asked, squeezing his hand. “Is this place haunted?”
“Haunted would just be seeing a ghost.” Jared shook his head, his whole body trembling, but he didn’t want to show fear in front of anyone, especially Becca. “This goes way beyond haunted. This is a...fucking miracle. Or a dream.” Jared realized he’d stumbled across the only explanation that made sense, and he nodded to himself. “That has to be it. I’m dreaming all this.”
“Then we’re dreaming it together,” Becca said, smiling. “Let’s enjoy it while it lasts. Do you want to ride the carousel?”
