Carousel Nights

by Amie Denman

  “Too much to handle,” he said, smiling at June.

  “Too much electricity?” she asked, laying a hand on his shoulder and standing much too close.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And heat?” she asked.

  “Way too much.”

  “My show will be totally worth it.”

  “I’m sure,” he said. “Are you sad your friends didn’t stick around a few more days to see it?”

  June’s face clouded and Mel wanted to kick himself for taking a piece of sandpaper to a raw nerve. Why had he brought them up?

  June removed her hand from his arm and took two steps backward.

  “The friends I care most about are going to see it,” she said.

  Mel swallowed. What did that mean?

  * * *

  THE SHOW WAS a success. June knew it from the first number, and the energy kept the crowd totally jazzed until the end. It was hers. Totally hers. There had been years of summer theater at Starlight Point, but this was different.

  The fireworks scheduled to go off in only five minutes would be icing on the cake. June hated to see the show end. The red, white and blue sparkly costumes with a little gold and purple thrown in were pure magic from Gloria and crew. The live musicians drawn from the best of the shows played like they owned the place. And they did. Until the dancers came on stage and stole the show.

  It wasn’t just June’s opinion. The crowd gathered in front of the stage had plenty of opportunity to leave and take advantage of a hundred other diversions. They weren’t in seats in a darkened theater where leaving would be rude and obvious. They stood under the stars on a hot night on concrete that still clung to that heat. And from their faces and enthusiastic applause—they loved it.

  “No way to top this,” Megan said. “Glad I had a three-hour nap this afternoon or I wouldn’t have survived even watching that show.”

  June smiled sympathetically at her stage manager. “I can’t imagine being eight months pregnant and on my feet.”

  “I’m actually fifteen months pregnant. I just wear it well,” Megan said.

  “Are you staying for the fireworks? They’ll start any minute.”

  “Nope. My husband is waiting just outside the employee entrance with the car. If we figure it right, we’ll be pulling in our driveway just as everyone else is lining up for the traffic jam on the bridge.”

  “You’ll be missing a great show.”

  “I’ve already seen one tonight. And I can’t stand much more excitement. I’ll watch the fireworks next year. There’s always next year.”

  Megan slung a small bag over her shoulder and waddled toward the employee gate tucked behind the Scrambler. June watched her go, wondering where she would be next year and if Megan was right. Was there always next year?

  “That’s a pretty serious expression for a woman who just pulled off the show of the century.”

  Mel’s familiar scent—Dial soap mixed with a little bit of sweat and motor oil—tingled her senses even with a hundred other distractions. Of course he was hard to ignore. He was standing so close their clothing touched.

  “I was just worried about Megan. Hope she gets home okay.”

  “Her husband is right outside the gate. I saw him a few minutes ago. Windows rolled up in his car, air conditioner on blizzard mode.”

  “True love.”

  “My work truck has air-conditioning and it’s parked at the gate,” Mel said. “We could go sit in it and watch the fireworks through the windshield.”

  June trembled despite the heat. Even though she’d just pulled off a show worthy of Broadway, Mel made her forget everything outside of the here and now.

  “I’d go to blizzard mode for you,” Mel said. “Even though the condenser doesn’t really work unless you get the RPMs up on the motor. We could still try.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Shoot. Thought I had you at ‘blizzard.’”

  “Absolutely. But the fireworks should start in about thirty seconds. Especially if Evie is in charge of the timing.”

  “Evie has a license to fire off pyrotechnics?” Mel asked.

  June laughed. “Nothing about my sister would surprise me. I’m starting to think she won’t be happy being an accountant forever. Like there’s more out there for her.”

  And me.

  The first of the shells exploded into the dark sky over the lake, raining red, white and blue streams of light in a huge arc. June leaned back against Mel, and the cooling night air combined with his body heat in a perfect combination—like sugar mixed with cinnamon on toast. Sweet, a little spicy, delicious.

  Snappy white sizzlers followed the initial graceful arcs of color and light. Unlike the waterfalls of color, the screamers plunged toward the lake like they were on a noisy mission. People clapped and yelled, the intoxicating noise taking them along for the ride.

  “You like those?” Mel asked, close to her ear.

  June shook her head slightly, not wanting to move from her position folded into Mel’s body. “Nope. Too loud and they’re over too soon. I like the ones that fall forever until they disappear.”

  “I like the blue ones,” Mel said. “Just-before-twilight blue. Like this outfit you’re wearing.”

  “How can you tell in the dark?”

  “Saw you in it earlier. Memorized the way you look.”

  June wondered if anyone had ever memorized anything about her before. It was one of the most wonderful things she had ever heard.

  “What else do you have memorized?”

  “Wiring schematics for most of the park. How many steps to the top of the Sea Devil. Dates we changed the oil on the old-fashioned cars. And everything I know about you.”

  “I hope you don’t have that on a chart in your office.”

  “Don’t need to,” Mel said.

  A volley of shells streaked up, exploded into huge weeping willow shapes that took ages to fall sparkling through the sky. June counted to ten before the last of the colored sparks disappeared. In less than two months she would be far away from the scent of the lake, the sounds of the Point, the touch of Mel.

  She’d be closer to her dream, but far from here.

  Red fireworks shot into the sky followed by an army of white screamers.

  Where would she be next Fourth of July? Summer hiatus from a Broadway show? Home for a long weekend? Watching fireworks with someone else?

  June never wanted to see fireworks again unless they came with a pair of warm arms smelling like the maintenance garage—the heart and soul—of Starlight Point. But she’d made her choice.

  “Ready for the grand finale?” Mel said, his lips brushing her ear. “Want me to make hand-muffs over your ears? I have to do that for Ross at fireworks and loud movies.”

  “I’ll tough it out,” June said.

  “Good,” he said, releasing her and putting his hands over his ears. “I get my own earmuffs for once.”

  June laughed, leaning against Mel and watching the furious explosions of the grand finale. She could get used to this. In fact, she already was.

  She turned into Mel’s body and pulled his hands from his ears. “It’s over.”

  “Far from it. The traffic is a better show than the fireworks. Especially with a sunburned, dehydrated crowd like this. There’s an hour’s worth of horn honking and hot tempers out there.”

  To prove his point, the mass of people around them began to move in a messy human wave toward the front gates.

  “Want to escape out a back entrance and walk on the beach while everyone else races to their cars?” Mel asked.

  “Very tempting, but I promised Evie and Jack I’d meet them at the front. Mostly out of curiosity. We think today might be a park record. Curious to tall
y up the gate receipts and see what we’ve got.”

  “Can I tag along or is it a Hamilton family secret?”

  “Like we have any secrets from you.” June caught his hand. “Come on. We’ll slip through the games warehouse and then go to the parking-lot party after that.”

  Despite the dark, Mel’s wide grin lit up June’s night like stars, coaster lights and sparklers. He followed June to the small glass-walled office of the front gate ticket manager. Usually called “the bank,” the area was the front line for guests and ticket sales. It was also guarded by at least one Starlight Point police officer during operating hours and until the last guest exited the turnstiles. June joined her siblings near the corner desk, but Mel stood just outside the door talking to the guard.

  “Forty-seven thousand five hundred,” Jack said. “An official record.”

  “By just a little,” Evie said.

  “Still counts. We can take that to our bankers. One more sign Starlight Point is on the right track.”

  Evie scrolled through the calendar on her phone. “We meet with them next week. They’ll want to know what the reasons are for our success and if it’s sustainable.”

  Jack sat at the desk and propped his feet on it, watching people stream out the gates. “Right now I’m just glad today’s over. We can do math tomorrow after a good night’s sleep and a half dozen doughnuts.”

  “What do you think, June?” Evie asked. “What accounts for the extra sales this year?”

  “Weather and fireworks.”

  “How about live shows?”

  “Hate to grab too much credit,” June said, “but my show was a real crowd-pleaser.”

  “I saw it,” Jack added, closing his eyes and rubbing them. “From a distance mostly, but even I could tell how good it was. Very good. But I don’t think it sold tickets.”

  “Maybe not, but it kept people here longer,” Evie said.

  “Fireworks did that,” Jack said. “Just like every year.”

  “Hey,” June said, slugging Jack in the gut while his eyes were closed. “You’re hurting my feelings.”

  “Sorry,” he said, doubling up and clutching his midsection. “Just trying to think like a banker and not a big brother.”

  “I like you better as a big brother.”

  “When did you start thinking like a banker?” Evie asked. “You’ve been hiding that talent. I had no idea you had any business sense.”

  Mel finished his conversation with the police officer, came through the glass door and sat on the edge of the desk.

  “Good,” Jack said. “I need backup. My sisters are picking on me.”

  “Can’t help you there. I’m afraid of one of them,” Mel said. “Not saying which one.”

  The police officer jerked open the glass door and leaned in.

  “Fire. Games area by the temporary stage,” he said quickly, radio in hand.

  “We were just there,” Mel said, instantly on his feet.

  “Report of explosion, lots of smoke,” the officer continued, holding the door as Jack and Mel raced through it with Evie and June right behind them.

  “Transformer blew, I bet,” Mel said, running alongside Jack, long legs flashing.

  They passed several food stands, swimming upstream against a fleeing record crowd. Negotiating a sharp turn just before the Kiddieland motorcycles, they encountered smoke and confusion.

  The four of them ground to a stop, struggling to see the source of the fire through the smoke. Security guards all around them forced onlookers back.

  “Transformer right behind the big sign for the games strip,” Mel said, his breath coming hard and fast. “Bet it went up, that’s the explosion people heard. Sparks hit those awnings, set ’em on fire.”

  Whining sirens approached. June pictured the firefighters on duty back by the maintenance garage making the quick decision to drive on the rapidly emptying midway instead of taking the narrow road outside the gate along the beach. She hoped they’d hurry.

  The entire strip of games—Skee-Ball, ringtoss, steeplechase—was alive with flickering lights illuminating the hanging prizes. Teddy bears, dragons, crazy hats, inflatable toys and plastic Starlight Point drinking cups swung from their hooks, ready to entice people out of their money, one or two dollars at a time. The games strip curved around and connected with a string of souvenir shops which then attached to the front gate area. A fire in any of the buildings threatened all of them.

  June stood, paralyzed with fear. She flashed back to her six-year-old self tossing balls at bowling pins to win a stuffed dog, her father smiling as she knocked a whole array of pins off a table taller than she was.

  The agony constricting her heart was a grim reminder of how dangerous it was to let herself fall in love with Starlight Point. It had such a powerful hold over her that she had only two choices: surrender or run.

  This was not what she intended when she came home for the summer.

  It was agony.

  And there was only one thing that could make it worse.

  “Got to hit the main breaker in there, shut it down, or we’ll never get the fire out,” Mel said. “I’m going in.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Jack said.

  “No, you won’t,” a voice behind June and Evie said. June turned, wondering who was arguing with her brother and Mel.

  A firefighter in full turnout gear looked absolutely huge in the flashing lights from the fire truck he’d just stepped out of.

  “You—” he pointed at Jack “—stay out here and take charge of the scene. You—” he continued, pointing at Mel “—put on a helmet and help me shut this thing down.”

  Mel grabbed a helmet from the other firefighter who was busy pulling hoses off the truck. He jammed it on his head and headed straight for the building with only half its lights flashing now.

  “Wait,” June said. She grabbed Mel’s arm. “It’s too dangerous. I don’t want you to go in there. You could be hurt or killed. It’s not worth it,” she pleaded.

  “It’ll be okay,” the firefighter interrupted. “Flames mostly on the south side, and we’re going just inside the north where the panel is. I’d do it myself, but I could use an expert.”

  Mel gave June a long, searching glance and then went into the chaos.

  June crossed her arms over her chest, trying to stop shaking. Jack draped his arms over both his sisters.

  “Trucks from Bayside will never get here with the traffic mess. Hope those two can knock out the power so we can put this out,” Jack said.

  “They shouldn’t be in there,” June said, her voice quivering.

  “I think they know what they’re doing,” Evie said. “Ten seconds. Just count to ten and they’ll have it shut down and be back out here.”

  “You love numbers too much,” June complained.

  But it was good advice. June started with ten and counted slowly backward. When she got to three, the whole building went dark. Only a faint orange glow came from the south side. She strained to see Mel and the firefighter come out. Where were they?

  “Grab a hose,” the firefighter on the truck yelled to Jack. “Power’s out, so it’s safe to hit it with some water.”

  The firefighter trained a searchlight on the building, and finally Mel and the other firefighter walked out together, shielding their eyes from the bright light.

  June ran to Mel and crushed him against her, only letting go to kiss him. Mel circled her with his arms and returned her kiss with equal passion. Until he suddenly stepped back and coughed into his shirt sleeve.

  “Sorry,” he said, his voice raw. “It was smoky in there.”

  “Are you all right?”

  He nodded. “Fine. Just need some water.”

  “I’ll get you some,” she said, pulling back to run
and find him a drink.

  “Wait.” Mel pulled her close. “One more kiss. I’ve waited seven years for that, and I don’t want to let you go now.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “I DIDN’T THINK the Roller Coaster Times would do a story on us this year,” Evie said. “Since we don’t have any new rides.”

  “They loved the shows,” June said. “And they called my parade a ‘glittering new addition.’” The approbation meant more to her than she thought it would. After all, it wasn’t a Broadway review magazine or a New Yorker article. It was just a magazine devoted to theme parks that happened to send a reporter who happened to see both her shows and appreciate them.

  The article would run in the magazine’s August edition, but the reporter had sent a preview of the story and a link to the magazine’s website which ran a teaser.

  Evie stood over June’s shoulder and read the screen on her sister’s smartphone. “Fresh and professional,” she said. “Those are nice things to say about the theaters. True, too. Plus they mentioned you. Look at that. The article says Starlight Point is lucky to have a co-owner with real Broadway experience.”

  June felt another rush of pride. And they didn’t say she was formerly on Broadway.

  “I’m going to have to start being nicer to you,” Evie said.

  “Thanks.”

  “They gushed about the steampunk show, which I admit I was afraid was too much for our usual audience. According to them, it evokes passion and emotion,” Evie continued. “Wow.”

  “That’s what I was going for when I came home this summer. Passion and emotion.”

  “Just to be clear, we’re still talking about the theaters, right?”

  June pocketed her phone. “Of course.”

  “Because I saw that kiss last night,” Evie said.

  June felt her cheeks burning. “It was the heat of the moment.”

  “Sure,” Evie said. “It was a tense night. A holiday and a major fire causing thousands of dollars of damage. I kissed at least three firefighters and one security guard.”

  “Very funny. Maybe you should have a fling. Then you’d stay out of my business.”