I couldn’t tell whether the kid was angry, or scared, or worried that he’d been busted for loading up on junk food.
“Yeah, well, what about you, chief?” I asked. “It’s not like you work here. What are you? Seven years old?”
“I’m nine,” the kid shot back, insulted. “My parents run a snack stand, so, yeah, I work here.”
This kid might have been little, but he didn’t back down.
“How do you know we don’t work here?” I said, figuring it was better to stay on the offense with this tough guy.
“Doubt it,” the kid said. “Unless you’re a couple of clowns.”
“Clowns?” Theo asked, surprised. “Why would you say that?”
I knew the answer. Theo had on a bright blue shirt with a bow tie and suspenders. It was his usual prep look. I wore jeans, but with a bright green hoodie. This was definitely not standard 1937 wear. The little kid had on a pair of baggy dark woolen pants, a grease-stained white shirt, and a cloth cap with a small brim that made him look like one of those kids you see in movies, selling newspapers on street corners.
In 1937, we were the freaks. I hadn’t even thought about how we’d stand out like, well, a couple of clowns.
“You’re absolutely right we don’t work here,” Theo said. “Not yet, anyway. We thought we’d try out to be clowns. That’s why we chose this attire. You know, to look like them.”
Good old Theo. Always thinking. Even while dimension-hopping.
The kid laughed and took a big bite out of his hot dog. “Yeah, well, sorry. You don’t look nothing like ’em,” he said with a full mouth. “Those clowns are tough. If they think you’re making fun of ’em, they’ll kick you right outta here. They don’t like it when people don’t show ’em respect.”
“You mean some people actually show them respect?” I asked.
“Absolutely!” Theo jumped in, stopping me from saying anything else stupid. “We love clowns.”
“No, you don’t,” the kid said. “Nobody loves clowns.”
The kid was young, but he was smart. I liked him. He reminded me of…me.
“Exactly,” I said quickly. “But still, we’re gonna try, so we’ll get moving.”
I started for the only other door in the workshop, figuring it was the way out.
“Take some clothes from that box,” the kid said. “The mechanics pinch stuff from the lost and found and take it home to their families. They won’t miss nothing.”
Theo and I exchanged shrugs and went for the box. We dug through and found a couple of dark sweaters and caps like the one the kid was wearing. We each took a sweater and put it on over our clothes.
“Thanks, chief,” I said. “What’s your name?”
“Derby,” he said while jamming pink cotton candy into his mouth.
“I’m Marcus. This is Theo.”
“Don’t see too many coloreds here at Playland,” Derby said.
“What!” Theo exclaimed, stunned.
“Hey, don’t get all twitchy,” Derby said. “Don’t make no difference to me. Just being observant.”
Theo gave me a look that was somewhere between anger and confusion.
“Remember where we are,” I said to Theo. “Or when we are. It’s something people say in 1937.”
Theo nodded. He understood but wasn’t any happier about it.
We each put on a cap and looked one another over.
“Not bad,” I said. “We’ll fit right in.”
“Want me to take you to the clown tent?” Derby asked.
“Yeah,” I replied. “But first we want to see the Oracle Baz.”
Derby let out a quick laugh.
“You and everybody else,” he said. “Half the people come to Playland just to see him. They’re hoping he’ll say they’re gonna strike it rich or marry a millionaire. They don’t like it too much when he tells them they’re headed for trouble. And he does tell ’em. Baz doesn’t hold nothing back.”
“Can you introduce us?” Theo asked.
Derby looked us both up and down. “What’s in it for me?” he asked.
Theo and I gave each other questioning looks but came up empty.
“We don’t have anything to give,” Theo said. “Except for the sincere gratitude of two fellows who are in desperate need of assistance.”
Derby glared at Theo through squinted eyes, as if trying to figure out what planet he had just dropped in from, and not just because he was “colored.”
“You talk funny,” he said.
“Yeah, he does,” I added with a laugh. “Makes me crazy.”
Derby jammed the rest of his hot dog into his mouth, swallowing it nearly whole.
Theo grimaced as if the sight made him want to gag.
“I like you two,” Derby said. “I’ll take you to Baz.”
“Excellent!” I exclaimed.
As Derby crumpled up the wrappers from his food, Theo reached up for the pull chain that controlled the overhead light.
“Whoa! Leave it!” Derby yelled.
His sudden loud reaction made Theo and me freeze up.
“I was just turning off the light,” Theo said tentatively.
Derby hurried for the door. “I don’t like the dark is all,” he said, calm again. “Wait’ll I’m outside.”
“Whatever you say,” Theo replied.
When Derby opened the door and walked out, we were hit with the full-throttle sound of calliope music from the carousel.
“That was strange,” Theo said.
“Leave the light on,” I said. “Don’t want to freak the kid out.”
Theo let go of the pull chain, and the two of us hurried after Derby.
When we left the small workshop and entered the vast round room that held the carousel, things turned strangely familiar. I felt as if I had just been there because, well, I’d just been there. The carousel was the exact same one I’d ridden dozens of times. It gave me hope that moving around this Playland in 1937 wasn’t going to be a totally alien experience.
Wrong.
We stepped out of the carousel building into a totally alien experience.
It was Playland, but it wasn’t. I recognized some of the classic rides that were still around in our time, but that’s where any similarity ended. The weirdest thing to see was the people. The men wore suits and ties, like they were going to work in an office or something. Many wore hats too. The kind you’d see in old-time gangster movies. All the women wore dresses. Most had on high heels. Even the little girls wore dresses. It was odd to see how they got all fancy just to go to an amusement park. At least the boys wore pants and buttoned shirts. None had on hats or ties.
And Derby was right—there weren’t many black people. Actually, I didn’t see any at all. There were no Hispanics or Asians either. Weird.
The park itself looked different, but not in a strange way. I guess some amusement parks are just timeless. We walked past familiar booths with games, and concessions selling snacks. The prices were incredible, though. Six cents for a cola and ten cents for an ice-cream cone. I could get used to that. Maybe there really was such a thing as “the good old days.”
“It’s hot,” Theo said. “So incongruous.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant at first, mostly because it took a while for me to figure out what incongruous meant, but it finally dawned on me that it was November. The bookmark had sent us to the part of the story right after the park opened, in May. So we had traveled across time, space, and a couple of seasons.
As we moved through the crowded midway, we passed many rides I recognized. The Tornado roller coaster and the Derby Racers were the exact same, but some of the other rides were long gone by our time.
“Check it out,” I said, pointing to the biggest building on the midway. It was made to look
like an imposing medieval castle. The words Magic Castle stood out boldly above the front doors in foot-high letters. “Scene of the crime,” I said. “Or it will be, anyway.”
“We’ve really gone back in time,” Theo said, awestruck.
“No,” I said. “We’ve gone into the time of the book.”
We stood there, taking in the spectacle, trying to get our heads around the fact that we were actually seeing things the way they had been in 1937.
Theo and I made eye contact, and we both smiled. We were thinking the same thing.
“This is freakin’ awesome,” I said.
“Hey, you two want to shake a leg?” Derby yelled.
That snapped us back into the moment. We weren’t there to sight-see, so we jogged to catch up to the kid.
“Gotta warn you,” Derby said. “Baz might not want to talk to you. He’s not very…I don’t know the right word—”
“Accommodating?” Theo asked.
“Friendly,” Derby replied. “Not many people like the guy. You might say he’s got a couple enemies.”
“We don’t want to be pals,” I said. “We just need a small favor.”
“You’re dreaming!” Derby said with a laugh.
“Why don’t people like him?” Theo asked.
“Beats me,” Derby said. “I never hear anybody say anything nice about him. He likes me okay, though. I do chores for him, like cleaning up his stage and bringing food to his apartment. He lives over the Magic Castle. Did you know that?”
“We did,” Theo said.
I wanted to add, Not for long. But that wouldn’t have been cool.
The kid led us off the midway to the far end of the park, headed toward the Long Island Sound. It was much quieter there, since we were away from the crowds and the noisy rides.
“That’s where he does his show,” Derby said, pointing to a big orange-and-white-striped circus tent sitting under a huge oak tree. “You came at a good time. He doesn’t go on for an hour. He likes to be alone before a show. Says it helps him clear his mind so he can consort with the spirits or something dumb like that.”
The silence was suddenly broken by a horrified scream that came from inside the tent.
The three of us froze.
“Guess he’s not alone after all,” I said.
“Is that normal?” Theo asked.
“The screamin’?” Derby said nervously. “Uh…no.”
“Help!” came another terrified scream.
I took off running for the tent, afraid that one of Baz’s enemies might be getting to him before the Magic Castle fire did.
It was looking as though we were too late.
I made it to the entrance of the tent just as a woman came running out, looking frantic. She was wearing a fluffy white bathrobe, and when it flapped open, I could see that she had on a fancy one-piece bathing suit covered with sparkly buttons, like it was a costume of some kind.
She spotted me and grabbed me by the shoulders.
“Stop him!” she screamed at me. “He’ll kill him!”
She let me go and ran off, hopefully to get help.
“That’s the high-dive lady,” Derby said, stunned. “Daring Donna.”
Without thinking, I blew past Derby and ran straight into the tent.
The place was empty except for two men standing on the stage. One I recognized as Baz. He looked exactly as he did in the posters except he wore a regular white shirt and dark pants instead of his purple robe and red turban. The other guy had on denim coveralls. He held one of Baz’s swords with both hands, pointing the blade directly at Baz’s throat. Baz looked pretty calm, considering a sword was waving in his face. Though he did back off as the guy stalked toward him.
“You are making a grave mistake, my friend,” Baz said calmly.
“I ain’t your friend, and this ain’t no mistake,” the guy snarled.
“If I were you,” Baz said coolly, “I’d worry more about avoiding runaway trucks than concerning yourself with who the young lady wishes to spend her free time with.”
This only made the denim guy angrier.
“Runaway trucks? You can’t flimflam me, and you ain’t never gonna see my girl again.”
“Perhaps you should ask her how she feels about that,” Baz said with a smirk.
That was the wrong thing to say. I thought the other guy’s head was going to explode. He reared back with the sword and let out a guttural yell, ready to strike.
“Hey!” I screamed.
The guy with the sword froze.
Baz didn’t even look my way. He was totally focused on the sword, ready to defend himself.
Theo and Derby ran in behind me.
“What’s goin’ on?” Derby yelled.
The guy with the sword hesitated, not sure of what to do. He looked at us, then at Baz, who gave him an innocent shrug. The guy stumbled back a few steps and dropped the sword to the stage, as if realizing how close he had come to murdering somebody. He then stood straight and pointed a threatening finger at Baz.
“Stay away from my Donna, hear me?” he said through clenched teeth.
“I’ll take that under advisement,” Baz said. “And do be careful.”
The guy jumped off the stage and ran past us for the exit.
Baz watched him run off and spotted us. I expected him to say, Thank you for saving my life, young lads! Or something like that.
He didn’t.
“The next performance isn’t for another hour,” he announced snottily.
Derby hadn’t been kidding. This guy wasn’t exactly friendly. And he had enemies. If we hadn’t come in, Baz might have been skewered.
He picked up the sword from the stage floor.
I nodded to Derby to talk to the guy. Or the oracle. Or the fortune-teller. Or whatever the heck he was.
“Hey, Baz,” Derby called out. “These fellas wanted to talk to you.”
Baz didn’t even look our way. He sat on his throne, took out a white handkerchief, and began cleaning the sword, as if to wipe away any annoying fingerprints the guy may have left behind.
“Of course they do,” Baz said, bored.
I walked slowly toward the stage. “You okay, Mr. Baz?” I asked. “That guy wasn’t kidding around.”
“Poor fool,” Baz said. “Apparently, he feels as though I’ve been spending too much private time with the graceful young high-diving lass.”
“Are you?” I asked.
Baz gazed at the shiny blade. I couldn’t tell if he was admiring the sword or his own reflection.
“Indeed,” he said. “Far too much time, I’m afraid. I’ve grown bored with the Daring Donna.”
I looked at Theo. He raised his eyebrows in surprise.
Baz was more than just unfriendly; he was a total jerk. No wonder he had enemies.
“So, uh, Mr. Baz,” I said, “could you do us a favor and—”
“Baz!” the guy barked. “No mister. I don’t ascribe to such pedestrian convention.”
“Oh, okay, whatever, Baz. I don’t know how the whole fortune-telling thing works, but we were hoping you might take a look into that crystal ball of yours and—”
“Why would I do that?” he asked.
“Well, uh, that’s a long story, but we have a couple of problems coming up and—”
“Go away!” he snapped.
“But—”
“I am not a servant for people who are too insecure to weather the natural trials that come with life.”
“Uh,” I muttered, “I don’t really know what that means, but my friend already had his fortune told, and it wasn’t very clear, so—”
“Clear?” Baz said. “Life isn’t supposed to be clear. It’s messy. It’s surprising. It’s unpredictable!”
“Except
that you predict things,” Theo said.
Baz glared at Theo. He didn’t like being challenged.
“Could you just tell us one thing?” I asked. “Can the future you see be changed?”
“The future is what it is,” Baz said. He punctuated the comment by grabbing the sword’s handle and stabbing it into the stage at his feet.
“Well, we did kind of just save your life,” I said. “So I thought maybe you’d make an exception and take a peek into—”
“Stop!” Baz shouted angrily.
He stood up quickly, as if he’d had enough of us and was building to an anger explosion. The guy was pretty tall, and being up on that stage made him seem like a giant.
“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” Theo whispered.
“I will not stoop to your level,” Baz said through clenched teeth. He stalked toward the edge of the stage and leapt to the dirt floor.
I don’t scare easily, by bullies or anybody else, but this guy was seriously intense. He continued walking toward us like a cat stalking its prey. I had to back off.
“I get it,” I said, trying not to let my voice crack with tension. “But this is pretty important—”
“You continue to hound me,” Baz said. “Apparently, my warnings have not sunk into that minuscule brain of yours.”
I bumped into Theo, pushing him backward. Theo bumped into Derby, and we all backed away while Baz kept walking slowly toward us.
“Jeez, we just got here,” I said. “It’s not like we’ve been bugging you.”
“Perhaps this will convince you,” Baz said.
From out of nowhere, a golden dagger appeared in his hand.
“Whoa!” I exclaimed. “Let’s not get crazy here.”
“My gift is not for sale,” Baz exclaimed, his voice rising higher. “Nor am I!”
Baz reared back with the dagger, ready to throw it.
“What’re you doing, Baz?” Derby yelled.
Baz whipped the dagger our way.
I turned and tackled Theo and Derby, knocking all three of us to the ground as the dagger spun through the air over our heads.
“Are you nuts?” somebody yelled out.
I looked up from where we were sprawled on the ground to where the voice had come from.
Oracle of Doom Page 5
