I sagged against an upright at the coin-toss booth. “I don’t think I can do this. It was so awful last time.”
“You can do it,” said Ash. “This is not last time. It’s this time. And we’re going to make sure it’s different, right?” He punched me in the arm, leaned crazily, and grinned into my face until I grinned back. I don’t know why, but smiling made me feel better.
“So what should we do first?” he asked.
I licked my lips and tried to think. The noise of the crowd and the powerful music of the carousel made it hard to concentrate. “Maybe we should look around and see if we can spot Roxy and Rainy.”
“Sounds good,” said Ash.
So we spent some time ambling among the booths. A lot of little things were different this time already. Some rides weren’t in the same places, and there was some stuff I didn’t remember at all from before. For example, there was a Haunted House right next to the Freaks of Nature and no House of Illusions at all. And Madam Isis’s tent was no longer purple and yellow. It was red and black. My stomach started feeling better—maybe this time the night would be different. Maybe this time the mangy mutt wouldn’t be here. We bought corn dogs and ate them while we walked.
After half an hour, we still hadn’t run across Roxy or Rainy. Then Ash saw a booth with a radio-controlled airplane hanging from the prize rack, and his eyes got huge. “I’ve always wanted one of those,” he said. “I’m going to win that thing!”
The game was one where you try to knock down milk bottles with a baseball, and Ash is a really good pitcher. He knocked a whole bunch down, and the carny notched up the stakes, saying he was working his way closer to the airplane, just another fifty cents was all it would take. Ash was doing great, better than I’d ever seen before. His cheeks glowed, and his eyes flamed with excitement. He seemed to forget about everything else and just kept reaching into his pocket for more and more money, as if he couldn’t help himself. He’d spent almost twelve dollars when the carny finally said, “This is it, chief. Knock this one down and you get the plane.”
Ash took careful aim, threw the ball as hard as he could, and missed.
“Sorry, chief. Better luck next time.” The carny handed Ash a small mirror with a deformed-looking horse painted on it.
“What’s this?” said Ash.
“It’s your prize. Nice work, kid.”
Ash practically went rigid. “But … wait a minute, I’m going to buy another try for the plane, O.K.?”
“No can do. Finito. No more chances. Though I will let you start over again, if you really want to.” The carny made it sound as if he was being generous.
Ash’s face turned radish red. “That’s not fair!” he shouted. “You took all my money!”
“Hang on there, chief. You gave me all your money.”
Ash threw the deformed-horse mirror in the dust and stamped on it. Shards of sparkling glass flew everywhere. It was so unlike him, I could hardly believe what I was seeing. Of course, I’d never seen Ash treated so unfairly.
“You cheater!” he yelled. “You cheated me! I don’t even have anything left for the rides now!”
The carny rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Go tell it to your mommy. Now beat it before I call security.”
Ash stumbled away from the booth with one arm over his eyes. He stood in the midway shaking with sobs, too stricken to move.
I pulled at his sleeve. “Hey, it’s O.K. I’ve still got plenty of money. I’ll lend you some for rides and stuff. It’s not a big deal.”
Ash pulled away from me, his eyes still hidden. I guess he wished I hadn’t been there to witness his humiliation. Sometimes trying to be a good friend just makes things harder on people.
I felt the unner hanging like lead in my pocket. Don’t use it unless you have to, the old man had said. Was it really me sending a message to myself?
But there was Ash, so mad and sad it made me want to cry right along with him. He was right—it wasn’t fair. He deserved another chance at that airplane. But how important was it, in the big picture of things, for Ash to win? By now I knew there was just no way to tell. How was I supposed to know when I had to do something and when I only wanted to?
Ash hadn’t asked me to use the unner, but I knew he must be thinking of it. I looked at him, hunched over as if somebody had punched him in the stomach. I had the power to help. What kind of a friend would stand there and do nothing?
I took the unner out of my pocket, turned it on, and keyed in five minutes, just enough time for another try at the airplane. I closed my eyes and punched the red button.
Suddenly we were standing in front of the milk-bottle booth again. The carny said, “This is it, chief. Knock this one down and you get the plane.”
Ash took careful aim … and missed again.
I unned another ninety seconds. Another miss. I frowned and made a deal with myself. I’d give it one more try. If he missed after three uns, I’d take it as a personal signal from the universe and give up.
Ash missed again. The universe had spoken.
Just as before, the carny said, “Sorry, chief. Better luck next time,” and handed Ash the mirror with the horse on it.
“What’s this?”
“It’s your prize. Nice work, kid.”
I felt like hiding my eyes as Ash said, “But … wait a minute, I’m going to buy another try for the plane, O.K.?”
I thought I knew what was coming next. But if there’s one thing I know now, it’s that the universe hardly ever does what you think it will. The carny should have said, “No can do.” Instead, he sucked thoughtfully on his lower lip and looked at Ash as if sizing him up. I saw the moment when he made up his mind. “All right. One more chance. But only because I like you.”
Ash dug in his pocket and came up with a quarter. He grimaced and looked at me. “Borrow twenty-five cents?” he said. “I’ll pay you back tomorrow.”
I gladly rummaged through my own pocket and came up with some coins. It seemed like a much safer and more honest way to help than using the unner had. I slapped the money into Ash’s hand and said, “Blow ‘em away!”
Ash threw the ball, and the milk bottles toppled with a clatter. A moment later, he practically danced across the midway with the airplane under his arm, while the carny frowned as if puzzled at himself.
“This is the best night of my life!” said Ash.
I nodded, hoping he was right, fearing he might be wrong. There was absolutely no way to predict how Ash’s winning the plane might change things. Anything could happen now.
Suddenly, a dog trotted across the way in front of us. Not just any dog. The mangy mutt. I sucked my breath in sharply.
“What?” said Ash. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”
“The dog! It’s the one Roxy ran after—will run after—into the traffic.”
Ash stopped and looked at me. “I just thought of something. Did this happen last time? I mean, did you know I was going to win the plane tonight?”
My stomach felt like there were worms squirming around in it as I considered how to answer. “Yes. I mean, no. I mean, it didn’t happen like this last time. Everything’s already so different. Except that dumb dog. Why’d it have to be here?” I looked at my watch and felt even sicker. It was 8:15. I couldn’t remember exactly when the accident would happen, but I knew the time was getting close.
“Cheer up!” said Ash. “Look, if it didn’t happen like this last time, that’s a great sign, right? It means maybe everything else will be different, too. So what if the dog’s here? We haven’t seen Roxy and Rainy. Maybe they decided not to come.”
I glanced around. He was right. There was still no sign of them. I really, really wanted to believe that they hadn’t come. But there were hundreds of people in the carnival crowd. Roxy and Rainy could easily be there somewhere, even if we hadn’t seen them yet.
“I’ve got an idea,” Ash continued. “Let’s go on the Devil’s Elevator. Once we’re up there, we’ll be ab
le to see the whole park. If they’re here, we’ll spot them.”
I thought it over. It was true that there was no better vantage point at the carnival. On the other hand, the last time I’d gone on that ride, I’d seen the world crash down around my shoulders. The idea of doing it again made me feel all scooped out somehow. I swallowed. It wasn’t easy. “O.K., I guess so,” I said in a small voice.
We made our way to the towering rid through waves of strolling parents, excited children, and high-school couples holding hands. The air was thick with the mingled smells of dust, popcorn, and spilled soda pop. Ash picked out a woman behind the counter of a snack booth. She had dyed blond hair piled high on her head, dangly red earrings, and big gobs of green and purple eye shadow. But she smiled at people, and her smile looked real. He asked her to keep the airplane for him while we went on the ride, and she grinned, put one finger under his chin, and said, “Anything for you, cutie.” Ash grinned back, and I thought I might get sick.
I handed over two tickets for the Devil’s Elevator, and we stood in the line, which was short. I felt worse and worse as the minutes passed. Roxy had stood here, almost in this very spot, then run after the dog while I’d watched, helpless, in the metal cage above.
“Step inside, please.” The gravelly voice of the ride operator jolted me out of my waking nightmare. He steadied the cage and held the door open for us.
Ash flung himself inside and buckled his seat belt. “Come on!” he called. “What’re you waiting for?”
I stopped with one foot in the cage and one on the catwalk outside. “I … I’ve got a really bad feeling about this.”
“Move it, will you?” said the carny, frowning. “People are waiting.”
I stepped inside. My stomach was already spinning, and the ride hadn’t even started yet. A too-small voice inside me squeaked, Don’t do this! Get out of here! I told myself I was just being a chicken and an idiot and a baby. While I buckled my seat belt, the same group of four girls who’d been on the ride with us before climbed in, already screaming with excitement. I looked at Ash, and he rolled his eyes.
The cage jerked, grinding slowly upward. I grabbed the mesh with my fingers and stared through. Below us, the carnival seethed with moving bodies, lights, and colors. The music of the carousel floated up, rising and falling with the breeze. Maybe it was luck, who knows, but my gaze came to rest on the pony ride, and there was Lorraine lifting Roxy down from a little brown-and-white horse. I breathed easier when I saw that she was keeping a firm hold on Roxy’s hand.
Roxy pointed at the snack booth and the kindly woman who was keeping Ash’s plane for him. They walked toward it. Their voices were lost in the crowd and the wind, but I knew what they were talking about. Roxy would be asking for a candy apple, or Rainy would be suggesting it. The mangy dog ran past. Roxy gave a little leap of joy. Rainy let go of her hand to open her coin purse, and my heart went into warp speed.
Hardly anybody I know goes to church, except maybe a couple of times a year, on special holidays. This includes my family. Ash’s parents met in a spiritual commune in California, which is probably why Ash’s name is Ashadha instead of something normal like Brian or even Julius. They never go to church at all. They just have a place in their house where they burn incense and practice “being mindful.” Ash and I have talked about this before. The thing is, when we need to pray, neither of us ever knows who to pray to. Sometimes a person just wants to pray for something small, like not striking out or getting at least a C on a big test. But other times, you want to pray because you feel lost and you don’t know what else to do. You want somebody bigger and more powerful than you are to be in charge. That’s how I felt, watching Roxy tear off after that dog and knowing what would come next.
I pressed my face against the mesh and screamed, “Stop her! Stop her!” I don’t know who I was pleading with. Anybody who might be listening, I guess.
Ash’s breath brushed the back of my neck as he leaned close, watching from behind my shoulder without a word. He smelled like corn dogs and peanuts.
Lorraine whirled and looked around, suddenly aware that Roxy was gone. I heard her shout rise up thinly, “Roxy! Stop!” as she sped after my sister, her coin purse yawning and forgotten on the snack lady’s counter.
I watched them dart through the carnival, the dog chased by Roxy chased by Lorraine, moving relentlessly closer to the street. I felt the line of heat from a tear trickling down my cheek. “Don’t,” I whispered. “Please, don’t let it happen.” Ash’s breath stopped abruptly as the dog jumped off the curb. Lorraine was so close. She stretched hard, snatching at Roxy’s sweater.
Somewhere in that moment before anything terrible had quite happened yet, I thought of using the unner—not waiting for the awful inevitable. But I was too late. The unner was only halfway out of my pocket when the dog ran in front of the truck. The driver stood on his brakes. I heard his tires squeal. Smoke rose from the pavement. Then the mysterious universe took over. Against all odds, Lorraine caught Roxy and spun her around, hurling her back to the sidewalk as if she’d been flung from the end of a crack-the-whip game. But Lorraine kept going in the opposite direction, unable to stop herself. The truck hit her and tossed her high, her body moving in ways that looked all wrong. I closed my eyes as the Devil’s Elevator roared toward the ground. Only a few seconds had passed, but it seemed like forever.
12
UNNER’S END
By the time that stupid ride had stopped and the carny opened the cage door, I was crying hard, and I was so out of it I didn’t care who saw. I stumbled down the ramp onto the midway, sobbing, the unner clutched in my hands. Ash sprinted ahead, dodging through the crowd toward the growing knot of gawkers in the street. He didn’t look back. He probably assumed I was right behind him.
But my legs felt like overdone spaghetti. Instead of carrying me after Ash, they buckled, and I sat down hard in the dust. My throat opened and closed noisily as the sight of Lorraine spinning through the air replayed itself again and again in my head. This outcome was as bad as the first—maybe worse, because I felt doubly responsible for it. If I hadn’t fooled around with fate, Rainy wouldn’t even have been at the carnival. Even if she was annoying, I didn’t want to see her hurt. I liked her. And I loved my sister. How could I choose which one of them would get hit by a truck? I had no clue. I thought I could change things for the better. But instead I’d messed them up more than ever. Now I saw the truth: I was like an ant trying to figure out rocket science. I was never going to get it. My brain just wasn’t big enough. I grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled. It hurt. I was so mad at myself and at the world, I pulled it again.
“Are you Gib?” said a voice from above. I looked up. Someone stood silhouetted in one of the brilliant lights along the midway.
I nodded, squinting, thinking maybe the old man from the woods had returned to help me. But though I couldn’t see the face, I could tell the person’s shape was wrong. I saw no wisps of silvery hair or tendrils of steam—just someone in a hood or a scarf. The voice, familiar but knobby as rough cloth, belonged to a woman.
A spidery finger reached out of the looming shadow and came to rest on the unner. The finger had an Egyptian scarab beetle tattooed on it.
Madam Isis!
“I have been visited by a messenger, an old man. Where he is from, who sent him, and why, I cannot tell you. All I will say is that he did not seem entirely of this world. He instructed me to find you and give you this message. You must have courage. Now is the time for action. Much hangs on this moment.”
I gulped down a sob. “But what should I do?”
Madam Isis shook her head. “That is all he said.”
Panic rose inside me, threatening to wash me away. I wished I could just sit in the dust and do nothing at all rather than risk doing the wrong thing again. Now is the time for action. Much hangs on this moment. The old man knew more about the big picture than anyone else, and he seemed to think anything at all was better than no
thing. But why hadn’t he just told me what to do? Maybe not even he knew.
I felt small and scared, trapped in a dark place I couldn’t find my way out of. “Help me, Madam Isis! What should I do?” I cried, hiding my face in the crook of my arm.
I felt a gentle touch on my shoulder, and when I looked, I saw that the fortuneteller had knelt down beside me. “My friend,” she said, “it is not so very hard. Look into your heart and do what you find there. For as long as I can remember, I have seen bits and pieces of what might lie ahead. And I can tell you this: what happens matters less than knowing you did your best. Only the heart knows what that may be.”
She looked kind and wise. I believed her.
I tried to steady myself. I’d never felt so stupid before. Follow my heart? I couldn’t even tell what my brain wanted, let alone my heart. Then it came to me. There was one thing I wanted with every speck of me. I wanted Roxy and Rainy both to be all right. And there was only one possible way to get that: use the unner again.
How much more of this night could I stand to relive? As little as possible, I thought. I considered the various versions of reality through which I’d threaded my way. One thing was the same in all of them. The Devil’s Elevator. Maybe if I didn’t get on that ride, if I just stayed on the ground near Roxy, I could change everything. I could grab her hand and not let go, no matter what else happened. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it had to be better than no plan at all.
I tried to estimate how much time had passed since Ash and I climbed into the Devil’s Elevator—maybe fifteen minutes. I turned the unner on. Goose bumps rose on my arms as the machine made the little silver bell sound that meant it was ready. I punched MMODE and keyed in 15. I looked at Madam Isis, and she smiled. I pushed ORDER.
The world jerked, and I found myself standing in line again. I’d made the mistake of keeping my eyes open, and I was dizzy. I bumped into Ash.
The Power of Un Page 9
