Four Corners Dark: Horror Stories

by William McNally

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  Tommy always agreed and never gave John a minute of trouble. He simply enjoyed the moment he lived in.

  “Hey, John. Tommy. How’s your day going?” Henry asked.

  Henry was behind the pharmacy counter stocking the shelves with the sleeves of his white coat rolled up.

  “Hi, Henry.” John handed him the prescriptions. “Need to pick these up.”

  “Sure thing, John.” Henry read the prescriptions and left the counter without saying another word.

  Tommy wandered the toy aisles examining the colorful boxes. A few minutes had passed when Henry returned from the back room. The prescriptions were stapled in neat white bags. He started to speak and stopped, looking sadly at Tommy.

  “John, do you have any questions about your medication?”

  “No, no I don’t.” John answered.

  “Well, my home number’s on the bag. Please do not hesitate to call if you need anything.”

  “I will. Thanks, Henry.”

  John and Tommy left the pharmacy and went to the car. Tommy walked like a man on a mission, which was quite unlike him. He usually liked to make the rounds while visiting the square. John looked up at the darkening sky.

  “Might get rained out tonight, Tommy,” John said.

  Tommy stood next to the car and surveyed the sky.

  “Yes, Daddy. We have lightning tonight,” Tommy answered.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Tommy went back to work on the carnival the moment they arrived home. John sat on the couch and switched on the local news, a reporter was covering a local event with a series of colorful tents being erected behind her. The camera panned out and John saw the sprawling carnival with its grounds decorated in elaborate lights and vintage rides from another time. Tommy’s carnival on the floor of the living room was an exact replica of the image John saw on his Zenith.

  He picked up the remote control and turned up the sound, the reporter was interviewing a man identified as R.G. Adams. The man wore a black tuxedo and top hat. His beard and moustache were waxed to perfect points, and he carried a cane with a silver handle.

  Tommy turned to his father and said, “Mr. Adams, Daddy.”

  John watched intently as Adams opened his arms in an exaggerated gesture of welcome.

  “Looks like some show, Tommy Boy,” John said. “I guess you must have seen this on the news?”

  “No, Daddy. Don’t like news,” Tommy answered.

  The reporter appeared on the TV again. The caption read: Mystery carnival surprises local authorities.

  John stood and switched the TV off, standing in the middle of the block carnival like a giant.

  “What do you say we skip the game tonight and pay your Mr. Adams a visit?” John asked.

  “Yes, Daddy,” Tommy answered. “Game gonna be cancelled anyhow. On account of the lightning.”

  “Of course it is, Tommy,” John said with a nod.

  John looked at the black block stadium then picked up the phone and dialed.

  “Hello, this is Darla, can I help you?”

  “Hey, Darla, this is John Roberts. How you doin?” John asked.

  “Just fine. How have you and Tommy been? Haven’t sent y’all out at the park lately,” Darla said.

  “Well, we were planning to come out tonight, but we may end up going to that carnival instead,” John said.

  “Ain’t that the strangest thing the way that carnival just blew into town?” Darla asked. “Just popped up overnight. No one even saw them drive in.”

  “Yes,” John said hesitantly, looking at Tommy’s carnival. “Strange it is. Darla, the reason I was calling was to see if the game was on tonight.”

  “So far,” Darla answered. “But the sky is clouding up and the wind is swirling a bit. Looks like we might be in for some bad weather.”

  “Thanks,” John said.

  John hung up the phone and said, “Tommy, do you want to get going in a few minutes?”

  Tommy looked up and said, “Sure, Daddy. All done now.”

  John stepped over the carnival and went up to his bedroom to change clothes. The closet he shared with Mary was still filled with her clothes. He freshened up and pulled a sweater over his head then picked up the bag containing his prescriptions. A “Living with Alzheimer’s” flyer was tucked inside. He left the medicine unopened on the counter. He would start his decline tomorrow. Tonight he needed to understand the connection between his son and the odd carnival.

  Tommy was waiting by the front door when he walked down the staircase. His eyes were alive and he had a broad smile on his face. Without a word they left and drove along Red Mountain Road towards the fairgrounds. The old Dodge’s engine whined as they reached the top of the hill and the spectacle of the carnival unfolded below them. The lights of a spinning Ferris wheel cut through the darkness. John slowed and turned into an empty dirt parking lot as lightning flashed and illuminated a black sky.

  “Better hurry, Tommy. We might get rained out,” John said.

  “Okay, Daddy,” Tommy said.

  They walked through the brilliant entrance of the carnival where thousands of tiny bulbs were strung along metal poles. The rides were spinning and twirling, but the carnival was empty.

  Tommy began to run. “There, Daddy.”

  He pointed at an ornate carousel with a painted mosaic of an ancient ocean on its canopy. The carousel was polished to a mirror shine and wooden horses gleamed in the light of the moon. Tommy reached the carousel and climbed onto the back of a white horse trimmed in gold. John caught up to him and stopped to catch his breath.

  “Tommy, not sure this ride’s running,” John said.

  Tommy put his feet in the stirrups of his wooden steed. The painted eyes of his horse gleamed wildly. The lights suddenly illuminated and the brilliance of the carousel’s detailing came alive. Each horse was hand carved and completely unique from the others. Gold leaf lined the walls and ceiling. John gazed around in awe at the splendor of the carousel.

  “Quite a beauty, isn’t she?”

  John turned to find a black figure emerging from a door in the center of the carousel.

  “Mr. Roberts, welcome,” Mr. Adams said gesturing with a white gloved hand.

  Mr. Adams was as impressive as the carousel. He wore a black velvet cloak and top hat and clutched the same silver cane John had seen on the television. He wore a ruby ring on his right hand and the gold of the ring glowed beneath the lights. He stared intently at John as he spoke.

  “Mr. Roberts, I know you have questions.”

  “Well…”

  Mr. Adams continued, “Life holds many questions does it not?”

  His black boots clicked on the wooden floor of the carousel as he stepped in front of John.

  “Do you ever wonder why one person dies in a car crash while another wins a lottery? Mr. Adams asked and paused momentarily. “Sometimes it is meant to be. But sometimes accidents can occur in the fabric of random things. Maybe the path of somebody’s life turned right, when it should have turned left.

  John sat stone-faced watching the exaggerated movements of the elegant man.

  “Our job here,” Mr. Adams said, “is to make corrections to these mistakes. Although we cannot undo these errors, we can make amends.”

  “What do you want from us?” John said softly.

  “Actually, it is what you should want from me,” Mr. Adams answered. “A series of mistakes have occurred in this town. You and your son have been the victims of these errors while others have received undeserved benefits. It is my job to set these matters straight.”

  Mr. Adams removed his hat and sat down on a seat across from John. His hair was long and black, and slicked against white skin.

  “Mr. Roberts, I do not often tender choices in moments like these, but in this case I feel compelled to do so,” Mr. Adams said.

  “What type of choice?” John asked.

  “You and you son are both faced with challenges. Tommy’s ch
allenge has been with him for a long time and yours is new to you,” Mr. Adams answered.

  “How do you know so much about us?” John asked.

  Mr. Adams ignored the question and continued speaking.

  “This evening I will offer you a choice.”

  Mr. Adams stood and placed a hand on Tommy’s shoulder.

  “I am prepared to take away Tommy’s challenge,” Mr. Adams said moving in front of John, slowly spinning his cane in his fingertips. “Or, I can take away yours.”

  Mr. Adams turned and walked to the small door in the center of the carousel and opened it. The circular room inside was empty and devoid of the gears and wires John expected to see. A solitary candle sat on a round table and illuminated the room.

  “Return to me with your answer tomorrow night Mr. Roberts,” Mr. Adams said, eyes gleaming in the darkness.

  Mr. Adams turned and entered the circular room, and pinched out the candle with his gloved fingers. The door closed behind him and the lights faded off leaving them alone on the dark carousel with only the light of the moon washing over the still wooden horses.

  On the drive home, Tommy acted as if he had awoken from a dream.

  “Was fun, Daddy. We come tomorrow?”

  “We’ll see, Tommy,” John said.

  John flipped on the car’s radio to clear his head.

  “Tragedy has struck the town of Milton and one person is feared dead this evening when a fire broke out at the Milton Mights baseball stadium,” the radio announcer said. “The victim is reported to be Frank Reynolds, the controversial winner of last year’s Powerball lottery. Mr. Reynolds was the man with a history of domestic violence who won a fortune only weeks after his wife divorced him. Sources have reported an electrical storm in the area shortly before the start of the game. Thanks to the fast actions of the police, the estimated crowd of seven hundred was safely evacuated. The stadium, however, is considered a complete loss.”

  John turned the black plastic knob to shut off the radio and drove in silence. Rain began to fall and the wipers of the Dodge struggled to clear the water squeaking each time they made a pass. He pulled into his carport and sat for a moment listening to the sound of the rain then looked over at his son.

  “Tommy, it’s time to go to bed,” John said softly.

  John walked around the car and roused Tommy from a deep sleep. The rain fell harder as he fumbled for the key to the front door. He opened the door and turned on the foyer light. The living room floor was empty except for the spinning carousel.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The next morning, John woke well after his usual six a.m. He focused blurry eyes on his alarm clock. Eleven forty-five a.m.

  “What the hell,” he muttered.

  He rushed down the hallway, stopped at Tommy’s doorway and found his son sleeping. He let him sleep and walked downstairs. The sun shined brightly through the living room windows and the carousel sat in a shadow cast by the coffee table. He kneeled to examine it. The toy had changed and was now the rudimentary creation of a child. He sat down on the couch and felt something he had been denied for years - hope.

  After a long day of waiting, John was ready to bring Tommy back to the carnival. He had spent the day watching news coverage of the stadium disaster and could watch no more. He shut the television off and put on his jacket. It was 7:15 p.m. and already dark.

  “Tommy, put on your jacket. We need to take a ride,” John said.

  “Okay, Daddy,” Tommy answered.

  Tommy didn’t ask where they were going and maybe already knew. They stepped through a pelting rain and into the car. John cranked the starter and the wagon finally fired up. He wiped the windshield with a rag to clear the fog from the glass. Tommy sat staring out the side window.

  When they reached the carnival the dirt parking lot was a sea of mud and the grounds were empty except for the brilliantly lit carousel and the cloaked silhouette of Mr. Adams. John led Tommy across the muddy field and stopped to wipe his feet before he stepped onto the polished wood floor of the carousel.

  “That will not be necessary,” Mr. Adams said above the sound of the rain.

  When they climbed aboard the carousel the sound of the rain fell away. Tommy sat on a white bench with carved octopus tentacles wrapping its sides.

  “Mr. Roberts, I trust you have brought me your decision?”

  “I have.”

  “Please have a seat,” Mr. Adams said pointing at the empty spot next to Tommy.

  John sat next to his son.

  “Well, then I thank you Mr. Roberts. Tommy, it has been a rare pleasure,” Mr. Adams said with a long bow.

  Mr. Adams opened the door in the center of the carousel.

  “But Mr. Adams what happens now?” John asked. Don’t you want my answer?”

  “That will not be necessary,” Mr. Adams said shutting the door behind him.

  The lights of the carousel flickered and went out, leaving John and Tommy in the dark. The carousel began spinning backwards, faster and faster, until the world became a blur and John lost consciousness.

  He felt a gentle pat on his shoulder. The morning sun caused mist to rise off the grass of the overgrown field.

  “Dad, wake up.”

  John looked around at the rotted hulk of the carousel. The carved horses had collapsed on shattered legs and water dripped through holes in the roof.

  “Dad?”

  John turned to find Tommy standing over him, but he was no longer his child-like Tommy Boy. He was a grown man with a wife and two young sons, and enjoyed the life John had always wished for him.

  “Dad, you need to stop wandering off like this. You had us scared to death,” Tommy said.

  Tommy took the keys to the Dodge from John and helped him into his truck.

  “Let’s get you home and into some warm clothes,” Tommy said.

  A breeze blew across the overgrown grass as they drove through the field, and the old carousel began to spin.

  AUTHOR BIO

  WILLIAM MCNALLY is the author of Four Corners Dark and is working on his next book Beneath the Veil. He lives in Georgia with his wife, Lily, and four rescue dogs.