Grim Hill: Carnival of Secrets

by Linda DeMeulemeester

  “And have you?” Clive’s eyes burned through me.

  “Maybe,” I said, smiling sneakily.

  “Let’s get out of here before we meet up with anybody else.” Clive reached for my hand and only then noticed the bags I’d placed on the ground.

  “Not everyone is mean, you know. There are some nice people.” I reached into a bag and pulled out a banana. “Hungry?”

  In two seconds Clive had the banana peeled and eaten. We split up the groceries and carried them back to the house. Our friends were waiting in the kitchen. I could tell something was up.

  “What?” I said as I walked through the door.

  “Sookie and Skeeter have run off,” Mia said with a frown. “I was outsmarted by a couple of nine year olds.”

  Lea said. “They’re at the carnival. I’m … I’m sorry. I couldn’t follow them in there. As a fairy, I’d be caught.”

  Clive gave me a pointed look that practically shouted ‘it had to have been Sookie’s idea’. I slumped into a chair with a sigh. Why did I think that just because my sister was no longer an evil witch, she’d stop causing trouble?

  I said wearily, “Let’s go get them.” I doled out the dresses for Amarjeet and Mia. Instead of putting those big bows back in my hair, I jammed the straw hat over my head. Mitch and Jasper rolled up their long pants to look more like Clive.

  “Can’t we eat something first?” said Mitch, eyeing the cheese and bread. We hastily made sandwiches.

  I hesitated on the first bite. My stomach was full of steel moths that were pinging around it like a pinball machine. Still, I’d need my strength. I bit in. But the gooey bread went down like sawdust, because I couldn’t keep one thought out of my head – the last time we’d visited the carnival, we’d brought down the wrath of Fairy, been chased by a killer tornado, and ended up in another time.

  I wondered if things could get any worse. But from experience I knew they could.

  CHAPTER 22 The Raggedy Boy

  “How could this be?” My mouth gaped as I stared at the man at the carnival gate.

  He wore the same captain’s hat, had the same hard, chiseled face, the same greasy black hair as he would seventy years in the future. Although he didn’t seem to recognize us, he uttered the same chilling words:

  “Sometimes the admission here is steep. Be sure you’re able to pay.”

  All of us hurried past the gate. Once we were inside, though, I stopped and had a good look. The only thing that seemed slightly different was the poplar trees. They grew in the same thicket, only they were shorter and their leaves had turned yellow. But with that exception, it only took seconds to recognize that this was exactly the same fair we had been at before.

  The carousel slowly circled as the green and black horses rose and dipped, glaring at us with fiery red eyes. The calliope cranked out a mournful tune that haunted our steps. The peculiar folk behind the booths hawked the same kewpie dolls, jack-in-the-boxes, and other eerie wares.

  “Get a load of that,” Clive pointed to a large magic wagon on the midway. The back of the wagon opened up like a small puppet theatre to reveal creepy little puppets dancing around so cleverly, I could swear there were no strings.

  “Ugh, look at their eyes,” said Amarjeet.

  It was as Alice had told me a few short days ago. Those puppets’ eyes looked as if they were blinking back tears and they followed me when I began walking away. I suppressed a shiver.

  “Look, that’s the dance tent. It’s the same one we left Zach and Emily in,” said Mitch. Cautiously, we moved toward it. The same tinny music was playing that I had heard just the other day, that is, seventy years in the future. It was those same big bands that played the soundtrack to Mr. Morrows’ World War Two DVDs. Under the tent, couples were dancing 1940s style. Sweat beaded on their foreheads, and exhaustion made their skin look pale and chalky.

  As I watched, those all too familiar chills crept down my spine as if someone had upended a cup of ice under my collar. I was sure I recognized some of those dancing couples from my last carnival visit.

  “I’m getting really worried about Zach and Emily,” Jasper said. I too couldn’t stop worrying about the friends who I’d left behind at the carnival as they danced the night away.

  “There’s more at stake than us getting back to our own time,” Clive muttered as he nodded in agreement. “This carnival is some kind of trap, and I think our friends have been ensnared – as if we don’t have enough to worry about already.”

  Something about a trap niggled in the back of my mind.

  “What’s going on up ahead?” Mitch pointed to the far end of the midway. He’d spotted Skeeter and Sookie.

  “Step right up, get your fortune told. Only a nickel,” Skeeter called out to the group. He was waving an old-fashioned looking pirate sword made of wood and tin.

  Sookie had set herself up at a small table. I recognized the snow globe from the kitchen. Her giant witch’s hat tilted crookedly over her brow. She’d laid out her small cauldron in which she’d collected quite a few nickels. Under the table were a pile of those ugly straw dolls. A young woman was standing across from her getting her fortune read.

  Sookie put her hands around the globe and stared into it. She spoke in a slow, deep voice. “You’ll marry a handsome man with lots of money and have a bunch of kids.”

  The woman squealed with delight, “That’s exactly the future I want. What a cutie pie you are.” She placed another nickel into the pot.

  An older man tossed in a nickel, “Little doll, what’s the future hold for me?”

  Sookie rubbed her hands together over the globe and intoned, “I see lots of money.”

  I pushed ahead of some other people in line. “Hey, wait your turn,” a stout lady snapped. I ignored her. Hands on my hips, I said, “What are you doing? Don’t we have enough problems? Pack up your things, right now.”

  “See, Cat,” Sookie shook her head and with a baleful expression complained, “That’s one thing I liked about being a grownup. You couldn’t keep bossing me around.”

  “You weren’t actually grown up on the inside,” I pointed out. “The magic only made you bigger.”

  “I got to do what I wanted,” said Sookie. “That’s all I cared about.”

  I leaned over, “Seriously, Sookie. We’ve got enough worries.” Then I lowered my voice. “You know this is a dangerous place.”

  “Do I?” Sookie said in a peculiar voice. “There’s magic, yes,” she said looking at the crimson and purple tents. “But not everyone thinks magic is terrible like you.”

  “There’s something wrong here, Missy,” I whispered harshly. Then more loudly, “Come on. It’s past your bedtime.”

  A few of the people smiled and the line broke up. Skeeter grabbed the cauldron and said gleefully, “We could have made a fortune if we knew some actual history. Clive, we could have used your help.”

  Clive glowered at his brother.

  “People don’t really want the future,” Sookie told her little friend. “Grownups just want to hear they’ll be happy and rich, no matter what I see,” she finished ominously.

  “Sookie, what were you thinking?” I wasn’t over lecturing her yet.

  “Amarjeet complained we needed healthy food, so I decided to make some money for groceries.”

  Amarjeet crossed her arms and in an indignant voice said, “I never told anyone to go to any carnival.”

  “Besides,” I said, eyeing Sookie’s cachet of dolls. “It doesn’t look like you were buying food with your nickels.”

  Sookie scooped up the dolls. “When you turned us back in time I lost most of my magic and all of my toys,” she accused. “I deserve a few toys.”

  “And there’s still some money for food.” Skeeter rattled the cauldron full of coins. “A nickel can buy a lot of stuff in this time.”

  We gathered up the younger kids’ things, and they trailed glumly behind us. I could feel that it was time to get out of here. We left the midway and c
ut through a narrower aisle of booths. A crowd had gathered in front of one booth and people were laughing, but not in a kind or friendly way. We shoved our way past them.

  “Hey look, it’s those two gangsters from school, Bonnie and Clyde,” jeered an older boy pointing to me and Clive. “They’re with their mob.”

  “Bonnie and Clyde?” Mia eyed us curiously. We never had got around to telling our friends about our first day of school.

  “Are you a criminal, too?” Another boy gave Jasper a shove.

  Jasper pushed him back. The rest of us closed our circle around Jasper and glared at the smart-aleck boys. They shrugged and turned back into the crowd.

  My friends and I jostled through elbows and shoulders to see what was going on. At the front of the crowd, several girls had lined up in front of an arcade booth. Inside the booth, bowling pins lined a shelf. For a penny, you got a wooden ball to knock down pins. A barefooted boy had the job of collecting the pins. But the group of girls were hooting and shrieking in delight as they chucked the balls at the boy instead of the pins. He tried to cover his face with one bruised arm while he grabbed pins with the other.

  “Cut it out!” I yelled moving forward. The girl who had been about to throw turned her head, and I gasped. She was beautiful – her features were perfect in every way – more than perfect – and her long black hair hung neatly around her triangular face. I recognized she was a Grimoire girl – a fairy girl.

  She stared for a moment and despite her beauty, her eyes were as cold and dead looking as those nasty dolls of Sookie’s. Ignoring me, she turned back and hurled the ball, catching the boy sharply on the elbow. He yelped in pain. I snatched the next ball right out of her hand before she could peg the boy again. She spun around and grinned. Her teeth were pointy and sharp.

  “Give me that,” Clive grabbed a ball from another boy, one of Darkmont’s students who was getting in on the cruel game. Mitch, Jasper and Amarjeet stood in front of the booth and blocked the other kids from moving to the front and throwing. I noticed the dark-haired fairy gather her two friends, and they melted into the shadows.

  “Shame on you,” Mia said to the other kids. “How dare you deliberately hurt someone? Don’t you pick up another ball, or I’m getting a security guard.” But the crowd was already breaking up and moving on. The nasty influence of those fae girls had been broken. It seemed none of my friends had noticed they were fairy girls from Grimoire School.

  “Are you okay?” asked Mia. The boy lowered his arm, and I almost dropped the ball on my foot. My heart froze when I saw the boy’s face. It was the raggedy boy, the ghost in the graveyard!

  The boy nodded that he was okay, and my friends headed back toward the midway. But I stood frozen to the ground.

  Clive stopped. “Cat? What’s with you?”

  I didn’t answer him. Instead, the boy and I held each other’s gaze. I knew he recognized me just as I recognized him. Suddenly, he ducked out and disappeared behind a curtain. I remembered his pleas to help him and that he needed something from me.

  A tap on my shoulder made me jump. “Cat,” said Amarjeet. “Is something wrong? You sure are jumpy.”

  “I should be,” I said. “I just saw a ghost.”

  CHAPTER 23 The Carnival’s Secret

  “Well, this proves you’re mistaken about those times in the graveyard,” said Clive. “That kid’s no ghost.”

  But I wasn’t listening. I leapt over the counter and ducked under the curtain of the arcade. Outside the tent, I looked left and right along the gloomy midway. I spotted the raggedy boy dead ahead. I ran after him, and he didn’t try to escape this time. I drew in a quick breath and asked, “Okay, now tell me. Who are you? I know I’ve seen you before. Why are you haunting me?”

  His seemed to look right through me, instead of me looking through him. He spoke quickly as if afraid of being caught. “My name is Gordie, and I’ve been trapped in this carnival ever since something terrible happened. Please help me escape.”

  Gordie? I recognized that name and his face – this was the boy that Bea had killed at Lucinda’s Valentine Dance so long ago. I’d seen his picture in an old newspaper. He’d been a school mate of Lucinda’s, and his tragic death had always haunted her – that’s why he looked familiar. Poor Gordie, his soul was somehow stuck in this horrible, enchanted place.

  “What can I do?” I said, feeling helpless.

  “My friends and I want to go home like you do. But time is running out. This is the last day of the Lamas fair, so you only have till midnight to help us all escape the carnival fairy trap.” He turned to go, but then he turned back and looked at me with that pleading look from the graveyard. “Remember the key. Free us.”

  His words echoed across the fair ground and other ghostly voices joined in a terrifying chorus. “Free us. Freeeeee us. Freeeeeeee us.” The sound was so mournful and chilling that all the hair bristled on the nape of my neck and goose bumps sprang up on my skin. Then, in a flash, the boy bolted into the shadows.

  “What was that horrible noise?” Clive rasped, running up.

  “I wish I knew.” How could I be haunted by a boy who was a ghost outside in the graveyard, but inside the carnival was flesh and blood? Whatever the answer, I knew it had to do with this creepy carnival.

  We caught up to the others outside the carnival gate, and huddled together to talk things over.

  I said to Jasper, “The boy said the fair is over at midnight.”

  “That means it’s the end of Lughnasa if the Lamas fair is over,” said Jasper.

  “And that means we have to go get the Grimoire tonight,” said Clive.

  I forgave Clive for suggesting that mission so impatiently. I didn’t have the heart to tell him those cruel girls at the arcade were creatures of Fairy, and that they were harmless compared to how we’d be treated inside Grim Hill. To the fairies that dwelt in the school, we’d be nothing more than poor little ants under their magnifying glasses.

  “Yes, we have hurry. But we still don’t have all the answers yet. I can’t figure out why the carnival would follow us back in time.”

  “Are you sure Cat?” Mia had a puzzled frown.

  “I’m pretty sure this is the same fair.” Actually, I had no doubt.

  “Oh, I agree that it’s the same carnival. That’s not what I meant.” Mia gazed warily over her shoulder at the fair ground. “I mean, maybe the carnival was originally here all these years ago, and those poor souls have been trapped by fairy magic ever since. And maybe when your sister, um, no offence, opened the door to Fairy, the carnival slipped out into our present time.”

  Mia had my full attention. She was on to something.

  Mia pointed to the carousel that was now a dot in the distance. “Remember the gatekeeper warned us about the price we’d pay. It’s like he was trying to warn us and couldn’t do anything about it both times. Didn’t you get the feeling he knew what might happen to us?”

  “Maybe the carnival is a place where time overlaps,” I said slowly.

  “That’s it!” Jasper’s face grew animated. “When you conjured the spell to turn back magic and time during the Lamas fair, you created a crossroads between the past and present.”

  Things were beginning to make sense. “When I see that boy, Gordie, in the graveyard, past or present, he’s a ghost.” I rubbed my head trying to think. “But inside the carnival he’s not a ghost.”

  “Gordie could be caught at the crossroads between the two worlds,” said Mitch, “and he wants to escape.”

  “So, the carnival must be the crossroads!” I said. Now we were getting somewhere.

  “A lot of those other people in the carnival seem like they are trapped too,” Amarjeet pointed out.

  My mind was racing. “That’s why Gordie keeps asking me to help him and the others.”

  Jasper pushed his glasses up on his head. “Remember what you were saying about time, Cat? How it’s like a river that can flow in either direction as we stand on the bank. We’v
e been caught up in this same crossroads where the carnival leaves everyone in limbo. It’s like it’s trapped some people here for a long time. Long past when they should have died …”

  “Gordie keeps mentioning a key,” I said, trying to snap all the puzzle pieces together. “If we want to go back home, the Grimoire is the key. We have to capture the Grimoire, bring the book back here, and command it to return us home at the site of the carnival. Maybe that way we could also help the ghost boy and the carnival folk.”

  “Cat’s right.”

  I turned around. Lea had come to meet us. Her eyes had grown large, and anguish shadowed her face. “Remember I was telling you I had déjà vu? I don’t think that’s what it was. I’ve … I’ve been in this time before – it’s hard to remember the details, but I’m sure of it.”

  “Can you remember us?” I asked. “Do we make it back?”

  Lea hung her head. Sparks crept up my spine when she lifted her chin and stared at me with blazing eyes. “All I know is this is my destiny – to help you.”

  “We still need to recapture the Book of All Magic,” said Clive. “I don’t see how that changes anything.”

  “Clive’s right, and it has to be tonight,” agreed Mitch. “I just want to get out of this place and make sure my family’s okay back home.”

  I couldn’t help but notice that Jasper had lost some of his excitement. He kept stealing furtive glances at Lea, and he looked plenty worried.

  “I think I might have a plan to recapture the Grimoire,” said Jasper.

  Clive got that impatient tone in his voice. “Well, why didn’t you say so sooner?” Then as if catching himself, he said more kindly, “We sure could use a plan – help get us up to speed.”

  “Okay,” Jasper nodded, though he didn’t sound all that confident. “Here’s what I’ve been thinking. Lea, you said you couldn’t go into the Grimoire School because you were a solitary fairy and would be mistrusted. What if you didn’t go alone?”

  Lea’s eyes flickered with interest. “Tell me more.”

  Encouraged, Jasper said with more certainty, “According to that book of Celtic myth, Lamas is a time when fairies are more competitive. They have sporting contests. What if we disguised ourselves as part of your fairy troop and challenged the Grimoire students to a sports event? Then, while they’re distracted, some of us could grab the Grimoire.”