Sinister Grin Press
MMXVI
Austin, Texas
Sinister Grin Press
Austin, TX
www.sinistergrinpress.com
October 2016
“Dream Woods” © 2016 Patrick Lacey
This is a work of Fiction. All characters depicted in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in whole or in part without the publisher’s written consent, except for the purposes of review.
Cover Art by Kelly Martin
Book Design by Scott Carpenter
Text Design by Travis Tarpley
For my mother, who teaches me to be strong.
Acknowledgments
This book had a long and treacherous road to completion and a number of individuals helped me along the way, whether or not they realize it. Thanks to Ryan Beauchamp, David Bernstein, Adam Cesare, Glenn Rolfe, Tony Tremblay (and the Taco Society), Aaron Dries, Matt Hayward, and the fine folks at Sinister Grin.
Chapter One
Vince Carter blinked twice when he saw the sign. He expected it to vanish, an optical illusion and nothing more.
It was still there when he opened his eyes.
A giant billboard that he was almost certain had not been there the day before, with an advertisement he was positive had not existed twenty-four hours ago. He would not have missed it, couldn’t have if he’d wanted to.
The two words were hypnotizing, as was the scene behind them.
Dream Woods.
In the foreground was a mascot bear with googly eyes. They seemed to reach toward Vince as if he’d just put on 3D glasses. Behind the bear was a theme park, spread out for miles, perhaps farther. There were roller coasters and log rides and water slides, enough attractions that you could probably spend your entire life within the park’s gates and never grow bored. Behind the park itself were picturesque mountains, peaks that reached high into the sky and made the image all the more serene.
The longer he stared, the more it seemed he could smell the fried dough and cotton candy, could hear the screams of thousands of children as they were tossed around on rides. For a moment he swore he could taste kettle corn, sweet and salty on his tongue and one of the most delicious things on earth.
Beneath all the laughter and chatter was another sound, something like one of those squeaking horns clowns so often carried, though it was far from annoying. It was soothing enough to make him want to drift into a deep and comfortable sleep. His eyes grew heavy and a yawn forced its way out of his mouth.
The sound grew closer and just as he turned his eyes away from the billboard he noticed the oncoming minivan, not more than ten feet in front of him, heading directly toward his front bumper.
Vince jerked the wheel to the right, drifting back into the correct lane, and pulled over to the side of the road. The van’s driver, a mother with several screaming children en cargo, flipped him off and called him a cocksucker as she sped by. A cloud of dust and dirt erupted in her wake.
He tried to catch his breath and wiped sweat away from his face, though it was quickly replaced. The July heat pressed down on him, slowly baking him in the car like a rotisserie chicken. He reached for the air conditioner before remembering it had shit the bed two weeks ago. He rolled up his sleeves, though it didn’t help much. Even in the summer he wore long-sleeved shirts. Not by choice but out of necessity. The office had a policy against the tattoos that covered every inch of his arms and though he strongly disagreed with their stance, he preferred swallowing his pride and paying his mortgage to being evicted.
He scratched at his sleep-caked eyes, wondered if he’d drifted off and dreamed the sign. It seemed more likely, considering that Dream Woods had been closed for nearly thirty years. But when he looked into his rearview, the mascot bear—Sebastian was his name if Vince remembered correctly—was still watching. If anything the billboard seemed closer now. Its edges were weathered as if it had stood there for much longer than one day.
Vince checked his watch. He was running late. During the summer he took back roads to avoid the beach traffic north of the city, bad enough on most days to make anyone want to commit suicide. The route took at least an extra half hour and he knew he should get going, but he could not help but stare at Sebastian. What would a few minutes hurt?
He pulled back onto the road, checking both ways for minivans, and turned around, pulling over once again and getting out so that he was standing just below the advertisement.
There was something magical about it, just as there had been something magical about the park itself. It was nestled in the heart of the Berkshires, a mountain range on one side, a thick forest on the other. He had gone there on his seventh birthday, had spent the better part of a week pissing himself in the haunted houses and losing his voice on countless roller coasters. His favorite attraction had been the dinosaur park, newly opened that year. The raptors had looked real enough to reach out and claw your face to a pulp. Their skin was less like latex and more like sandpaper flesh, more like the real thing.
He had told himself the last day of the trip that he would someday return to that heaven-like place, where fun ruled the day and school and homework were nothing but distant nightmares.
Except Dream Woods had suddenly, and without notice, closed its door in late ’89. There were no news stories about bankruptcy or scandals. It was simply open for business one day and abandoned the next.
There had been rumors of course, mostly ghost stories kids told across campfires, but Vince had heard enough accounts of mutilated bodies and cults to believe something had happened. All theme parks had their bogeymen and horror stories. How many accidental deaths had there been at Six Flags or Canobie Lake? How many people had gone missing from Universal Studios? But it didn’t tarnish his memory of the place. Not one bit.
If anything, seeing the photographed rides and Sebastian up close made him want to fulfill his childhood promise to himself. He certainly had enough vacation time saved up. He pictured walking hand in hand with Audra while the boys followed and stuffed their faces with hot dogs and ice cream, chewing instead of arguing. There were no medical bills, no regrets, no fears that a divorce was just around the corner on any given day.
Just the four of them strolling along in the only theme park good enough to give Disney a run for their money in the eighties. Making their way toward the heart of the park, the almighty Dream Castle, which looked a little too similar to the one from the Magic Kingdom, though just different enough to avoid a lawsuit. It seemed infinitely tall, like it passed through the clouds and went on forever.
Sebastian’s paw seemed to beckon him.
We miss you, Vince! Come on down and visit the raptors. They’re dying to see you again. They’re just as scary as before.
It would feel good to stand there all day and watch the billboard, lost in his memories, in his visions of Dream Woods. Not worrying about his job or health or anything other than having the most fun he could possibly endure. By the time he forced himself back into the car, he’d already made up his mind. He’d bring it up tonight and hope Audra and the boys were as excited as he was.
He looked one last time in the rearview. It must have been a trick of the light or a mirage from the shimmering heat because for a quick moment he swore he saw Sebastian waving goodbye, the mascot’s furry paw actually swaying back and forth.
Or was he begging Vince to come back?
We’ll be waiting!
***
Audra Carter did not see the toy on the floor until it was too late. It was an ugly little thing, some action figure of a samurai or a knight or something. It held out a plastic sword,
not sharp enough to cut deeply but just enough to hurt like hell. She tried to side step, lost her balance, and her foot landed directly onto the plastic blade.
“Little fucker.” She kicked it across the room and sat on the bed, examining the bead of blood forming on her heel. “How many times have I asked them to clean up their stuff? Do they even play with toys anymore?”
Vince didn’t answer. At first she thought he was ignoring her but when she looked up she saw he was wearing his headphones and looking through an ancient photo album. He flipped the page and smiled, his eyes wide like a boy reading his first piece of porn. He hummed something beneath his breath, a familiar tune she could not place. Eventually, sensing she was staring, he broke his gaze away from the photos and cocked his head, his eyes narrowed slits.
He took the headphones off. “Did you say something?”
She rolled her eyes. “As a matter of fact, I said a few things.” She held her bleeding foot up for him to see. “It’s those goddamned toys. They’re everywhere. It’s like a minefield in this house. And what’re they doing in our bedroom to begin with?”
“Cat probably dragged them in.” Even now his eyes were drifting away, back toward the album.
“What’s so interesting?” She put pressure on her tiny wound and winced. She imagined taking a trip to the emergency room and having to explain herself.
“Just some old vacation photos. Did I ever tell you about my trip to Dream Woods?”
She shook her head. Dream Woods. Where had she heard about that place? Her mind flipped through a mental Rolodex until it came up with a few news headlines. Several bodies found in abandoned amusement park. Strange symbols uncovered at defunct theme park. Boy falls to his death from New England fairy tale castle.
And her favorite of all, the one that had sent shivers up her spine as a girl.
Local hermit claims entrance to hell is beneath Dream Woods.
“You mean the theme park that fell apart when we were kids? The one that was a half-assed imitation of Disney?”
He looked even more like a child now, as if she’d just told him Santa Claus was nothing more than a myth. For a moment she thought he would cry. “It was no Disney but you know what? That’s what I liked about it. It was like my own private park; one I didn’t have to share with a million other screaming kids.”
“Tell yourself whatever you want. We used to make fun of that place all the time. Not to mention the dead bodies and such. They started calling it Scream Woods after that. How cute.”
“Those were only stories.” He patted her side of the bed. “Come here. Take a look.”
She wanted to tell him she was exhausted and couldn’t care less but there was something about his baby face that made her give in. She did not want to see her husband throw a hissy fit. She slid onto the bed, still holding her bleeding foot with her index finger, trying to remember if they had any band-aids in the house.
“This,” Vince said, “was my favorite part. The dinosaur park.” He pointed to pictures of little Vince, wearing a fanny pack and a tucked-in shirt. Freckles covered his face and tattoo-less arms and his hair hadn’t yet started to thin. He had lost several baby teeth, a wide gap evident in his smile. Though he was about three feet taller now, he was just as scrawny. He had been a cute kid. She’d give him that much.
“And this,” he said, pointing again at a photo, “this was something else.” His finger rested on picture of a stunt show of some sort, with knock-off superheroes battling knock-off super villains. The characters resembled Marvel and DC rejects. Second-rate pyrotechnics covered the background and the actors looked bored out of their minds.
When she didn’t respond, he looked up at her as if she were crazy.
“This was one of the best weeks of my life,” he said. “And to think I forgot all about it until today.”
“Too bad it’s closed.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. It’s back in business. I saw a sign on my way into work today. And I was thinking…”
She shook her head. No. Absolutely not. There had been plenty of things she’d given into throughout their marriage, having children and settling down among them, but if she was going on vacation she favored a tropical island somewhere, fruity drinks served by crystal clear water all day. A trip where she didn’t need to move from her spot underneath the sun if she didn’t want to. Not some dump that passed for a carnival or theme park or whatever you wanted to call it.
“Come on,” Vince said. He nudged her with his elbow. “It’ll be fun.”
“Screaming kids and yuppies? I don’t think so.”
“Audra,” he said. He grabbed her arm, his eyes grave, no longer smiling. “We need this. Don’t you think? It may not be a cruise or a resort but it’s a place we can bring the kids and be together. We haven’t done something like that in way too long.”
She surprised herself by nearly crying. Mostly because Vince was right. They had grown apart both as lovers and as parents. The distance had not formed overnight. They’d let it happen and now it was hard to ignore.
But if she was being honest with herself she’d grown distant more so by choice than circumstance.
Like the night you left.
Vince was saying something.
“And besides, I’ve got a little money saved up so we can stay at one of the fancy hotels, have some cocktails, and have some fun. Just be together.”
She looked at her foot again. The bleeding had stopped but the tiny hole hadn’t yet closed. She wondered how long a wound that small would take to heal. Some wounds, as she’d come to learn, were slower to close than others. “I’ve got to make sure Tim takes his insulin. You know how he is. I’ll be back up in a few.”
“What about what I said? At least tell me you’ll think about it. I don’t need an answer right way.” Vince flipped to a new page in the photo album, already studying more pictures.
She imagined the four of them together as a family, laughing and smiling, wondered if it could ever be like that again. “I’ll think about it.”
***
Later, when she came back upstairs to find Vince asleep, headphones still on his ears and photo album still on his lap, she finally recalled the song he’d been listening to. For once it was not the soft rock he’d been spinning the last few years. It had been the third track from his old band’s demo. Live Today had released three albums in total, had been somewhat of a big act once upon a time. Every member of the band, her husband included, had sported a neon Mohawk and their faces had been littered with piercings.
They played halls and bars and the occasional nightclub while kids with tattoos and ripped jeans sang along, mostly shouts about not trusting the government and not being part of the system.
And look at us now, Vince. We’re more than a part of it. We’re fucking feeding it.
She removed the headphones, careful not to wake him. Muffled shouts from a younger Vince came at her until she turned the volume down on the stereo. It was hard to believe the voice belonged to the same man. She lifted the photo album and looked at a picture of Vince with his father, both of them riding on a miniature roller coaster, eyes wide with terror and joy at once.
She supposed she would say yes. She owed her family that much.
Considering they didn’t even know she’d planned to leave them all behind.
It had been a year ago. She hadn’t been sleeping well, was worried sick about Tim and his diabetes and whether or not he’d ever be responsible enough to take care of himself, not to mention the horror stories about children who’d contracted the disease. Failing kidneys and blindness and a list of other maladies that made her nauseous. She hadn’t wanted to be a mother in the first place and she’d somehow wound up with a sickly child.
Vince was no help. He didn’t seem phased by any of it. Everything would work out just fine, he’d say. They just had to keep their heads up. Vince, the eternal optimist who refused to acknowledge that anything was ever wrong.
Then
one sleepless night, the thought had come to her.
Why not leave? She hadn’t wanted this life to begin with. She had been a punk rock chick, still had the piercings and tattoos to prove it, though the skin was sagging and the ink was fading. Vince had tricked her into this life, had convinced her to keep the baby, which had turned out to be babies, as luck would have it. He’d go back to school and buy a nice big house, he’d promised. She could be a stay-at-home mom and focus on raising their children. It had sounded reasonable at the time. She’d even managed to convince herself for a while.
Until the night she grabbed the suitcase from her closet while Vince snored underneath the comforter. She kissed him and the boys once each on the cheek and wrote a note, something generic about apologizing for being so horrible, for not being the mother and wife they deserved, and left it on the kitchen table. She grabbed the keys to her car and headed out, her heart slamming within her ribs.
She made it as far as the highway before she slammed her fist on the dashboard and turned around, spinning out in the process.
Like it or not, they were her family and she could not just up and leave.
Could she?
She turned to Vince now as he slept away, perhaps having happy dreams of his fabled theme park, his younger self playing with mechanical dinosaurs.
She would give in this time. Maybe he was even right. Maybe they’d be a family again, the distance patched up like the samurai wound on her foot, now covered with a Batman Band-Aid.
But if not…well, then she’d throw in the towel, tell him that this time she was leaving for good, and not turn around on the highway.
She looked one last time at the photos and closed the book, sliding into bed and staring at the ceiling.
Just as she was drifting off, one of the old headlines she’d thought of earlier appeared in her mind, the one that made her laugh so long ago, though this time it made her eyes open as if she’d heard a sound from the hall.
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