Funhouse

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Funhouse Page 7

by Michael Bray


  “What happened then?” Dwayne asked.

  The old man sighed and shrugged his shoulders.

  “Then, I did as I was told. Fast forward thirty something years and here we are today with you kids breaking down my door to get in.”

  The old man grinned and stood, wincing as his knee joints popped.

  “You kids just made the biggest mistake of your lives.” He said as he shuffled out of the room, leaving Dwayne and Randy alone.

  The following morning was overcast, and a light drizzle fell. Jorell had made breakfast (which both Randy and Dwayne were grateful to see, contained no meat) of porridge and jam, and then told them they could have the run of the house apart from his personal rooms, which were on the top floor.

  The two friends sat opposite each other at the kitchen table, neither having slept. Randy glanced out of the window at the vast ocean of scarecrows, which had thankfully returned to facing away from the house.

  “How’d you sleep?” Randy asked as he rubbed his stubble fluffed cheeks.

  “I didn’t. You?”

  Randy shook his head, and the two were silent. They could see Jorell out in the fields, walking amongst the scarecrows and making sure they were tidy and in good order.

  “So, any ideas?”

  “No, I’m still struggling to come to terms with this.” Randy said as he drummed his fingers on the table top.

  “I think I have an idea, if you want to hear it.”

  Randy looked at Dwayne, expecting to see the hidden craziness, but he saw only his friend, and for that he was glad.

  “What you got?”

  Dwayne reached into his pocket, and set his lighter on the table.

  “We can burn our way out.”

  Randy looked out of the window, and the driving rain which showed no sign of slowing down.

  “It’s too wet, nothing will burn.”

  “No, I know that. So we wait until it dries out.”

  “You wanna wait here?”

  “No, I don’t want to, I just don’t see any other choice.”

  “Maybe the old man’s story was a way to keep us here.” Randy muttered.

  “What about Kenny?” Dwayne shot back.

  Randy was silent. He had forgotten about Kenny, and felt ashamed for it. Kenny was always more Dwayne’s friend than his, and Randy only really knew him by association, but he acknowledged that even so, it gave him no right to have forgotten about him so completely.

  “We can’t help him now. We have to look out for ourselves.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m doing.” Dwayne said. “It just might take a little time.”

  “We can’t stay here.”

  “I don’t like it either, and I sure as hell don’t intend on trying to walk my way through those things again.”

  That was enough to bring silence back to the table, and for a time they simply sat there.

  “When were you thinking of doing it?” Randy said, nodding towards the lighter.

  “A few days. The weather report says it should brighten up tomorrow, so allowing for a couple of days for the bastards to really dry out, I’d say four days. Five tops.”

  “We don’t even know this guy, I mean, surely he would have thought of this idea, why is he still here?”

  “Come on Randy, you heard his story. He’s frightened, and I guess now he’s just too old to do anything about it.”

  “I suppose we have no choice, do we, assuming he even lets us stay.”

  “I don’t see how he has a choice.”

  “Can I ask you something Dwayne?”

  “Shoot.”

  “His story… do you believe him?”

  “I don’t know.” Dwayne said slowly. “All I do know is that those things out there were moving, and that’s enough for me to not want to be out there.”

  “That’s good enough for me,” Randy replied. “Let’s see if the old man will put us up for a few nights.”

  “He will. He’s too old and weak to stop us.”

  “Should we tell him about our plan?”

  “No, absolutely not, under any circumstances.” Dwayne snapped, and there, just for a split second, Randy saw the dark thing that lived inside his friend.

  “Why not? What harm can it do?”

  “You ever heard of something called Stockholm Syndrome, Randy?”

  “No, I can’t say I have.”

  “Back in the early '70's, '73 I think, it was, two guys robbed a bank in Stockholm. Things got a little crazy, so they take the bank workers hostage, and hold them in the vault for six days. Anyways, things came to a head, and the police talked the two guys into surrendering and freeing the hostages. The funny thing is, the people who had been held captive, sympathised with the guys who had held them there and tried to stop them from being sent to jail.”

  “Why would they do that?”

  “Who knows, they say the hostages formed a bond with their captors, and a relationship built between them. My point is, this old man has been here for so long doing the will of these damn scarecrows, that I don’t think he would leave now, even if he could, which means that he could be dangerous if he gets wind of what we plan to do.”

  “So what do we do until then?” Randy asked as he watched the old man fuss around the scarecrows through the kitchen window.

  “Play nice, offer to help him out around the farm. God knows, the place could use it.” Dwayne said, looking around the dilapidated kitchen.

  “Okay, but I want us out of here as soon as we can do it safely.”

  “You don’t need to convince me of anything. As soon as those damn scarecrows are dry enough to burn a path through; we’re getting the hell out of here.”

  Randy tossed the twin armful of carrots into the wheelbarrow, and wiped a dirty forearm across his brow.

  Jorell had been happy for them to stay, and had put them to work on the farm. For the last three days, Dwayne had worked on the inside, tidying the house as Randy picked and tended to the crops.

  Despite the weather reports, the rain had continued in spotty showers, and the dry periods that did come were few. Frustration was starting to set in, and Randy glared at the ocean of wooden effigies which stood between him and freedom.

  The old man spent most of his days out in the fields. Randy watched him as he walked among the scarecrows, adjusting their clothes, talking to them and repairing any damage. It was obvious to see that he was quite mad, but both he and Dwayne chose to ignore it, as it made the wait to make their escape easier to bear. It was then, as he was watching Jorell in the distance, that he saw a second figure standing in the field speaking to him.

  It was Dwayne.

  Randy watched from afar, and wondered why the situation tugged at his guts and made him feel as if he were being left out of whatever conversation they were having. Randy looked on, and a few minutes later, Dwayne began to head towards the house. Randy walked to meet him, unsure why he was so angry.

  “What was that about?” He asked as Dwayne neared.

  “What?”

  “You and the old man.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Why were you over there in the field? I thought that would be the last place you would go, considering what happened to Kenny.”

  Dwayne looked at the ground, then at his friend.

  “It’s nothing to worry about; the old man just wanted help planting one of his scarecrows, that’s all.”

  “And you did it?” Randy spat. “I thought we were trying to get out of here, not build up the defences.”

  “Jesus Randy, it was one damn scarecrow and nowhere near the route where we will be leaving. Just relax. I know what I’m doing.”

  “I just don’t think we should be going out there in those fields, especially after the old man’s story.”

  “Okay, take it easy, if I had known you would start acting like my mother I...”

  He trailed off, and looked at the dirt, then continued. “Just relax that’s all. I k
now what I’m doing. Okay?”

  Dwayne didn’t wait for an answer, and went back to the house.

  Randy watched him go, and then turned to the field of scarecrows. They were still facing away from him, and he couldn’t see the old man, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were watching him, and that, on some level, he now stood alone.

  The rest of the day passed without incident, and their routine was as normal. Randy worked outside, bringing the crops back into some kind of order whilst Dwayne worked on tidying the house. The light of the day began to fade, and as Randy stood and stretched, trying to ignore the agony in his back, he smiled, because even though the day had been overcast, it hadn’t rained, and so they were a little closer to their escape.

  The three of them ate in silence at the kitchen table that night. The old man came back after sundown, and didn’t say a word to either of them. He finished his meal, and then went upstairs, leaving Dwayne and Randy to tidy away the dishes.

  “How does tomorrow look?” Randy whispered.

  “Possible, although it might be worth waiting another day just to be sure. We really need those damn things to burn.”

  Randy glanced over at Dwayne, and saw that his friend was distracted. He seemed to have the weight of the world on his shoulders, which, under the circumstances was understandable.

  “You sleeping alright?” Randy asked.

  “Not really, I can’t seem to settle.”

  “Tell me about it. Its knowing that those damn things are out there.”

  “Just a couple more days, then we are out of here. Just try to keep it together until then.”

  The next morning, Randy woke to blazing sunshine. He looked out of the window and could barely contain his excitement. There wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. He dressed and went downstairs; hoping to speak to Dwayne about their improved chances of leaving, but found the house empty. He opened the door and stepped out, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his face as he glared at the scarecrows, looking forward to finally putting them to the torch.

  His smile faded when he saw Dwayne and the old man. They were in the field amongst the scarecrows again, only this time Dwayne was sitting cross legged watching the old man as he spoke and gesticulated,. Randy wanted to go over and find out what the pair were talking about, but the thought of being near the scarecrows terrified him, and he didn’t want to go near them until it was time to leave. A slight breeze ruffled his hair, and brought with it a snatch of laughter. He hoped it was from the old man but he couldn’t be sure. He went back into the house and closed the door, then crossed to the kitchen table and sat down hard. He looked out of the window, and the beautiful day that he had greeted with such joy, now seemed to be mocking him.

  The morning came and went. Randy worked the vegetable patch, which was now almost presentable. Dwayne and the old man stayed over in the field with the scarecrows. Although he tried to concentrate on his work, Randy couldn’t help but repeatedly look to see what his friend and the old man were doing.

  A little after mid-day, Dwayne walked towards the house. His hands were filthy, as were the knees of his jeans. Although he had intended to be calm, Randy grabbed Dwayne by the shirt collars as he approached.

  “What the hell’s going on?” He spat.

  “Hey, take it easy.”

  “What were you doing over there? We agreed it’s dangerous.”

  “The old guy asked me to help him. What could I say?”

  Randy released his grip, and Dwayne smoothed down his shirt.

  “What else could I do?” Dwayne repeated. “Refuse?”

  “Yes, you could have refused, hell you should have refused.”

  “And then what happens? Say the old man decides to kick us out of the house, did you consider that?”

  “No, I suppose I didn’t.” Randy said as his anger faded. “I just… I don’t think we should be going over there that’s all.”

  “Don’t worry. The old man isn’t so bad when you get to know him.”

  “I don’t want to get to know him, I want to go home.”

  “If this heat holds up, we should be good to go tomorrow.”

  “I hope so. The longer we stay here; I worry that we’ll never get to leave.”

  “Don’t worry, as long as we stay calm and stick to the plan, everything will be fine.”

  “I just can’t shake this feeling that’s all, that something bad is going to happen to us.”

  “This is a messed up situation, that’s for sure, but we need to stick together. Just trust me.”

  Randy nodded, and looked over Dwayne’s shoulder at the ocean of scarecrows. There was no sign of the old man, but Randy supposed he could be anywhere, hiding in plain sight amongst his creations.

  “I’m just stressed. That’s all.” Randy said with a sigh.

  “We both are.” Dwayne agreed. “Just let me worry about getting us out of this mess. After all, I got us into it.”

  Randy nodded again, and cast another wary eye towards the scarecrows. Dwayne looked over his shoulder.

  “I better get back; the old guy will wonder where I am. Told him I needed a drink of water.”

  “What is it that he has you doing out there?”

  “I... I’m not supposed to say.”

  “What happened to trust? Come on, Dwayne, you can’t keep things from me, especially when it comes to this place.”

  “Please, just drop it. Okay?”

  “Tell me.” He hissed, fighting the urge to manhandle his friend again.

  “I buried Kenny.” Dwayne said, his eyes wide and frightened.

  “He made me bury Kenny out there with the scarecrows.”

  The words were enough to stop Randy in his tracks. All he could do was stare at his friend and wait for his mind to make some rational sense of the situation. Dwayne swallowed, and then lowered his voice.

  “You should have seen him Randy. He was all… fucked up, and the old man said if we didn’t bury him the crows would be angry. I didn’t want to man, but we were right there in the middle of them, and let me tell you, it feels like they are watching you all the damn time. Not just looking at you, but through you. I had no choice.”

  “And when were you going to tell me about this?”

  “I don’t know, later maybe. Just as soon as I had come to terms with it myself. You don’t know how difficult it was Randy, you really don’t.”

  “You could have refused.”

  Dwayne smiled, and for the first time since they had arrived, Randy saw a flash of that darkness appear in his eyes.

  “No, it doesn’t work like that man. You might think so, but you are safe down here by the house. Out there!” He jabbed a dirty thumb over his shoulder. “It’s... different. The atmosphere is different. And that old man, he talks and, damn, it makes sense.”

  “Sounds like excuses to me.”

  “Fuck you, man.” Dwayne said, still wearing that same horrible smile. “You don’t know anything about it, you don’t understand.”

  “I think I’m starting to. I think it’s all starting to make sense.”

  “Don’t you tell me my business. Back at school you might be a big hotshot wrestler, and Mr Popularity, but out here, you’re no better than me.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? I never said I was better than anybody.”

  “Bullshit, you know what I’m talking about. Here comes Randy, everyone loves him, everyone wants to be his friend, well that’s fine, but here and now, someone has to do the dirty jobs that nobody else wants to, and because I’ll do anything to save our ass, it’s up to me to do it, so don’t you dare preach to me and try to come across like some clean cut, never-do-anything-wrong asshole, because I won’t stand for it.”

  Dwayne was glaring at Randy, his fists balled at his sides. Randy didn’t want to fight, and the ferocity of his friend’s outburst hurt him more than he would have ever expected.

  “Something’s changed, you aren’t the same.” Randy whispered, ba
cking away from Dwayne and trying to diffuse the aggression. It seemed to work, as Dwayne relaxed, and ran a dirty hand through his hair.

  “Look, we can talk later when we’ve both calmed down, but right now, I have to get back to work.”

  Randy didn’t have an answer for that, and Dwayne didn’t wait for one. Instead, he turned and jogged towards the field. Randy watched him go, and still couldn’t shake the feeling that the scarecrows were watching. He imagined they were smiling.

  Randy spent the rest of the day alone. Dwayne and the old man had stayed out in the fields, and even after sundown hadn’t returned. Not wanting to speak to either of them anyway, Randy went to bed early, but the combination of paranoia and isolation meant that sleep took a long time to come. He heard them come in just after midnight, and a little later, the house was silent. He tossed and turned for a further hour, and then realising that sleep wasn’t going to come to him anytime soon, got out of bed and went downstairs.

  He put a pan of water on to boil, hoping that a cup of tea (the old man had stockpiled bags of the stuff in the cellar) would help him to relax enough to get a few hours rest.

  He saw the dancing torch beam through the kitchen window as he was rinsing his cup. He stared into the field, watching the zig-zagging blade of light as it moved around in the darkness. In an instant, all thoughts of drinking tea were forgotten.

  He hoped that it was the old man who was out there, and somehow ignored his instincts which told him otherwise. Quietly, he walked to the door, knowing that just outside would be his answer.

  The old man had a thing about dirty floors, and insisted on shoes and boots being left outside the house. As Randy opened the door, he hoped to see Dwayne’s boots next to his own trainers, and the old man’s missing. Any alternative would mean that he truly was alone, and that Dwayne was falling under the same spell that had enchanted the old man years earlier.

 

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