Leo tugged the landscape wagon to a halt. Greg stepped from foot to foot a bit, thinking of the switchblades Dax gave his thug friends.
“What up, suck up? Decorating for the ladies now, like fags?”
Dax’s cronies howled at this, pointing at Greg and Leo.
“Oh, no, Dax, just doing homework. But you wouldn’t know about that, since you never come to class.”
Dax lowered his head like a bull ready to charge and glared at Leo, his features darkened.
“So, Leo, you still think you’ll be taking that tasty blonde home from the Carnival?”
Leo dropped the handle of the cart and stepped up in Dax’s face.
“You leave Karen alone, you hear me?”
Dax slid his hand to casually hook a thumb over his side pocket.
“Or… what?”
Walking to her car, Professor Haefer saw Leo and Dax facing off in the student lot. Treading carefully, she pulled up as near to Leo as she could and opened her door.
In her most professional, commanding voice, Mary said, “Dexter, what is going on here?”
Charlie bent over, holding his stomach.
“Dexter… oh, Dexter, what is going ON here?”
Leo stepped between Dax and Professor Haefer and said something that sounded like the students were deciding what attractions to work on for the Carnival. No one else said anything. Mary knew there was more building here but chose to go along with the pseudo-peace all parties silently agreed to. With a final look at Dax, she closed her car door. She knew this was not finished.
* * *
The echo that was Manchester ascended the crumbling, dust-covered staircase. Upstairs, in what time had left of the Pavilion Ballroom, floated his Corinne. Her sighs of sadness lifted the gauzy remnants of drapery like stray breezes. He could just see her, arms gracefully shaping swanlike curves through the air, as she wisped across the dark floor. Sensing his entrance, she spun to face him, arms outstretched in eternal invitation to dance.
Manchester went to her, as he had throughout time, took her in his own spectral arms, and spun her transparent figure out onto the ballroom floor. The breezes that animated the ruined Pavilion coalesced into a likeness of voice, and Manchester whispered to his Corinne.
“The Veil of Time and Shadows grows thinner, my jeweled bird. Can you not feel it? The door ‘twixt this place and the place of life and dancing is opening. I will see us safely across that threshold, my dear, and you shall waltz in life again.”
Corinne lifted her face to look into his eyes. Her own, decades old hollows of despair, sparked a dim flash of emerald and then returned to darkness.
He twirled her as he had in life, lifting her layers of time-tattered lace in a semblance of feathers. They spun out over the gap in the center of the fallen ballroom floor, ragged hems of her faded gown shredding away into the darkness below with each pirouette.
* * *
Swaggering into the Student Center, Charlie and Bill checked out the food vendors for unsupervised eats. Dax located Karen on her paint-spattered ladder and headed that direction. Focused on a red detail, she didn’t notice his approach until he grabbed the ladder and shook it just enough to make her drop her paintbrush and grab for the stage flat.
“No worries, hot stuff. I would have caught you. Then you’d be in my arms at last.” He grinned an ugly grin, waggling his eyebrows.
Karen’s hands came away from the painted flat, dripping red onto her jeans. She glared at Dax, hands held out to her sides.
“Look what you made me do, you creep!” Tears blurring her vision, Karen backed down the ladder as carefully as possible without touching it, leaning on her forearms. When she reached the floor, Dax seized her, beefy arms clamping both of hers to her sides.
She struggled against him, screaming for him to let her go. Several students working nearby looked up and started toward them. Dax let her go, laughing. Karen rounded on him, slapped him hard, and, before he could recover, wiped her hands down the front of his Black Sabbath tee shirt. He jumped back, swore, gave her one of his dark looks.
“Oh, sweetheart… are you ever going to regret you did that.” He touched his cheek, drew his hand away red, glared at her again, then wheeled away.
* * *
Headless Horsemen, scarecrows, giant walking pumpkins, and assorted animal-like creatures mingled with cowled figures, dance hall girls, and figures simply draped in sheets with eyeholes. The Student Center atmosphere, redolent with a satisfying blend of scorched sugar and overheated fry oil, tasted like a Carnival.
A sausage-curled blonde in a pale blue Marie-Antoinette ball gown waited in the line in front of the Fortune Teller’s tent. Karen linked her arm through Leo’s tuxedoed one. With his free hand, he doffed his top hat.
Maria held court in her tent of many colors, hamming it up perfectly to the delight of fellow Carnival-goers. Swirling her hands over and around the glass ball flower vase in front of her, she intoned in a deep, sepulchral voice.
“I see only misery, degradation, and squalor ahead for you, my dear, if you continue to keep company vis dat lazy peeg of a boyfriend who is currently porkink you… “
Across the table, her client howled with laughter, while her boyfriend took good-natured shoulder punches in the crowded line.
Dressed in vintage, musty, cutaway topcoats, a theater club Burke and Hare skulked through the line, sneaking up behind people with a tape measure and shovel to consider them for “fit”. Friends who could see this either doubled over, giving away the game, or stood straight-faced and let the joke progress.
A new client sat at the table, offered his hands to Maria. She drew a deep, dramatic breath, eyes closed. Laying her own hands palm to palm with the grinning young man, she breathed in again, tilted her head, sniffed. Her eyes flew open, and she pressed the student’s hands to her table.
“I see that you vill be detained on your vay home dis evenink by a uniformed indiwidual who vill vant to know vat it vas you added to the punchbowl from your pocket.”
More howls of laughter from the line, from him. Karen was next to sit before Maria, who swayed slightly on her cushion, humming an atmospheric tune to the violins crying from the boombox. She poufed and tucked until her skirted crinoline behaved on her chair, then placed her upturned hands on the table.
“Tell me my fortune, oh, Madame Mystery.” Karen grinned.
Maria glanced up at her, suppressed a grin of her own, winked, and cleared her throat to sober up for this performance. She placed her palms against Karen’s upturned ones, drew a deep breath.
For several moments, no one moved. Maria sat like a statue, breath held. The crowd around the tent shuffled uneasily, not certain if they should laugh and applaud again, or wait for Maria’s act to begin.
Maria’s palms against Karen’s burned ice cold. When Karen jerked hers away, Maria lunged for her, pinioning her wrists in a cold, painful grasp. Her eyelids lifted. Milky white eyeballs stared blindly at Karen, then rolled back in Maria’s head.
Karen screamed, pulling helplessly away from that icy grip. Leo jumped forward, tried to lift her from the table. Both of them stared at Maria, who began to speak. On breath like the opening of a thousand graves, words of warning hissed in Karen’s direction.
“… the revenants… revenants… are waiting… waiting… do not… they yearn… they wait… you… must… not…”
Boyfriends held their dates; dates held their breath. Unable to move or look away, the Carnival crowd leaned slightly forward, willing Maria to crack another joke and make this okay.
She finally whispered a last word, sending it toward Karen on a dry rasp.
“… dance…”
Maria’s eyelids fell to hide those terrifying rheumy eyes. Her hands opened and slid forward as she fell across the table. Leo lifted Karen from her chair, pulling her back. Theater students rushed to Maria, ran for water, for teachers. Shaking, Karen let Leo guide her toward the concession area for a cold drink.
Cup in hand, Karen took small, trembling sips of punch. She looked up at Leo.
“What was that back there? Was that some of her act? It wasn’t funny, Leo. How did she do that with her eyes? Her hands?”
Leo put his arm around her shoulder.
“I couldn’t tell you, sweetheart.”
“Well, now, isn’t that a picture worth, oh, say, a dozen words?” Dax slurred. He leaned on the punch table to steady his swaying. When he could stand, he looked at Leo, breathed liquor toward him. “How about a real Halloween game, Leo, old boy?”
Karen pressed closer to Leo. He stepped slightly in front of her, facing Dax.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Yeah, possibly even that. I’m talking about a little wager, my man. A test of manhood, of just who is strong enough to hold on to your little blue muffin, here.”
Leo fisted his right hand just as two teachers and Professor Haefer approached, supporting Maria and questioning her nervously. Pale and shaking, Maria allowed herself to be escorted outside the Center where an ambulance waited.
Dax slurred on.
“I will bet you, Leo,” Dax challenged, poking Leo in the chest, “that you and your little Karen here can’t spend the night, this very Halloween night, up in that old, abandoned Pavilion.”
“That’s been condemned for years, moron.”
“Then one more broken window on the ground floor won’t be noticed.” Dax stretched puffy lips into a wet grin. “Me and my pals will escort you inside, and we’ll be back in the morning to let you out.”
“Jerk, we’d just go back out the window after you leave us there.’”
“Not after we board you up inside, you won’t, jerk,” Dax spat. He changed his angry countenance to one of sly cunning. “And, if you be there when the mornin’ comes, I swear I will leave this chewy morsel alone forever.” His eyes slid over Karen’s bodice. “We’ll even get a photo of you coming out in daylight with a cell phone time stamp for proof. What do you say?”
“I say you go to hell and take your stupid ass bet with you.”
Charlie and Bill stepped out from behind a wall of hay bales and corn shocks. They came forward to flank Dax.
“In that case, you forfeit your claim to this here lady… and my business associates will make sure you watch me spend a little quality time with her.” The slurry, foolish expression on Dax’s puffy face hardened into a mask of pure evil.
Karen whimpered and pressed into Leo’s back.
The goons next to Dax palmed their switchblades where only Leo and Karen could see them. Dax gestured toward the parking lot.
“Shall we go to the games?”
Commercial and residential growth over the decades separated the old Pavilion from the normal activities of the city. Most of the vintage glasswork had long yielded to rocks thrown by youngsters daring each other or bored truants. Bill pulled his van around the circular drive to the darker backside of the building. Dax took his eyes off Leo and Karen long enough to step out the side door and gesture mockingly for them to do the same. Leo never let go of his grip on Karen’s arm.
Bill stayed with the van, while Charlie and Dax escorted Leo and Karen up to the building, where a low window, already missing its glass, loomed at them from the dark wall like an empty tooth socket. A sheet of plywood and hammer lay propped beside the window.
“There is already a stack of concrete blocks to step on down there. And, because I am such a swell guy, I even left you flashlights and a couple bottles of water. Can’t have you drying up and blowing away before I collect my bet.” He directed this to where Karen sniffed back tears, clutching Leo’s arm.
“Dax, this is insanely stupid, even for you. Let’s just get out of here, okay? Bygones be bygones, go our separate ways.”
The hate fire in Dax’s eyes burned too hotly for listening to reason.
“One of two things will happen here,” he growled. “You’re gonna take my wager, or you’re gonna watch me take my spoils.” His eyes burned into Karen’s. Charlie snapped open his switchblade and stepped forward.
Karen sobbed.
“Leo, please. I can do this. We can do this. He’s insane, don’t push him. We can find a way out after they go.”
Arms around Karen, Leo shot one last piercing look at Dax and turned to step down onto the blocks so he could ease her down safely.
When the last of Karen’s blue satin skirt whispered across the window frame, Dax and Charlie lifted the plywood into place and nailed it to the old wood.
Dax dropped the hammer, dusted off his hands, and grinned a maniacal grin.
“Trick or Treat…”
Bill waited in the driver’s seat, lights out. Dax and Charlie slid the side door open and stepped up into the van. Dax pulled a sports bag from beneath the front seat and tested its weight.
“You both remember what to do?”
“Yeah, we keep Leo jumping at his own shadow and lead him away from Karen. What are you gonna do?”
Dax slowly drew a length of rope and a bandana from the bag.
“I’m going to teach that blonde bitch a little lesson.”
The ground level casement window Dax jimmied open earlier barely allowed the three of them to squeeze through. Dax distributed the chains, flashlights, loose feathers from the bag.
“Okay. You two lure Leo with rattling chains, whisper his name, go up the stairs and drop feathers on him, anything to get him away from Karen. I’ll be creeping low to the floor, watching for my moment to grab and gag her. After I do, I don’t care what you do with him. Just don’t come looking for me.”
Silently, they crept up the stairs to the main gallery. Thick with dust, crumbled bits of fallen plaster and crushed marble, faded flakes of gilded wood, the large space absorbed all sound of footfalls. A flashlight beam reflected, weak and dull, from a glass specimen case still intact. Whatever it once held lay disintegrated at the bottom of the case.
Dax signaled the guys with a finger across his lips, then pointed in the direction he wanted them to go. He hugged the wall, moving in the other direction.
Once by themselves, Charlie and Bill didn’t summon much courage. Slowly making their way through the rubble of elegance past, they inched toward an open door. They’d set up their spook show inside that room, calling to Leo, like they were told.
A brief flash of their light showed them where the furniture, faded and rotting, sat in the space. Without speaking, they arranged their chains, kneeled on the floor, and began. Bill let loose with a cartoon soundtrack oooo-eee-oooo that rose and fell, echoing in the large hall outside the door.
Charlie punched his shoulder, hard. Bill sat back on his heels, scowling. Charlie slid his chain across the floor, giving it a little shake. He tried his voice.
“Leeeeeeoooooo… Leeeeeeeeoooooooo…”
Bill grabbed Charlie’s shoulder.
“Did you hear that?”
“What?”
“I don’t know. Sounds. Like wind indoors, or a woman crying.”
“You’re spooking yourself, idiot. Dax will be pissed off if we mess this up.”
At that moment, Bill clutched Charlie’s shoulder again.
“Did you see that?”
Even without his flashlight, Charlie could see the whites of Bill’s eyes.
“Shut up. See what?”
“I’m telling you, something misty just floated across that floor out there. It headed to that broken staircase.”
Charlie ignored him, dragged his chain a little more. He glared at Bill a moment later.
“If you’re gonna talk to yourself, you can find another room and tremble on your own.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
Charlie stopped sliding his chain, looked at Bill.
“You didn’t just whisper to yourself, ‘it’s showtime’?”
“What the hell does that even mean? Why would I say that?”
At that moment, Charlie’s chain slid across the floor on i
ts own. They each felt a cold hand close around their necks from behind. They stumbled against each other, trying to stand up. They squinted, hearts hammering.
The darkness in the room came alive, gathering into shapes that swelled, shrank, swelled anew into different images, all horrible. Dax’s temper forgotten, Charlie and Bill clutched each other and ran back to the basement stairs. The squeeze through the window was effortless this time, and they ran to the van.
They sat breathing for long, silent moments. Charlie spoke first, wiping his brow and upper lip. Neither one mentioned the reek of urine that filled the van.
“There’s something wrong in there, man. It didn’t feel right from the start. Dax can do what he wants by himself. We’re getting out of here.”
Bill just nodded, chest heaving, eyes wide. Starting the engine, Charlie considered their position.
“Dax is going to jump that girl, maybe knife Leo to do it. We are in on this, Billy. Dax won’t take the fall by himself. Our fingerprints are all over. We have to report some funny goings on in that place, maybe save someone’s life and get our butts out of trouble.”
Bill just nodded, staring straight ahead, pulling breath through his open mouth.
* * *
Leo tested the flashlights and handed one to Karen. He had to wrap her hands around it and press it there.
“Keep this on and take hold of my shirt. Do NOT let go. I don’t want to get separated in here. We are looking for another broken window close to the ground floor. I can maybe manage a second-floor window, but I can’t get you out that way. Stay with me, honey, we can do this. We’ll just give them time to drive away. I can’t hear the van in here.”
Wide-eyed, Karen clutched Leo’s shirttail. They located and climbed the stairs to the main gallery. Leo swept his light through the room, noting the location of tumbled glass cases and empty stands. He tried not to illuminate the remains of the cases’ contents.
Dark Carnival (A Horror Anthology) Page 2
