by Allie Gail
“No, I'm not afraid of the dark! More like I'm afraid of some animal digging up what's left of my bones and gnawing on them like a chew toy. If you must know.”
He presses his lips together, trying to hide a smile but not quite succeeding. “How very descriptive. If completely irrelevant. Didn't I promise to protect you?”
“Yeah, but who's going to protect me from you?”
“You do bring up a valid point.” Extending an arm, he offers me his hand. “My intentions may not be entirely honorable, but I can assure you that you won't end up as an animal's chew toy. You're perfectly safe, I promise. I just want to show you something. That's all.”
“Out here?”
“About a half-mile or so from here. I told you we'd be going for a walk, didn't I? It's quicker if we cut through the woods.”
Hesitating, I eye him suspiciously. There's no one here to save me from the big bad wolf. So it's probably not the smartest move to follow him into the forest. And yet in spite of my better judgment, I find myself far too easily swayed.
What can I say? The big bad wolf is very persuasive.
Besides, let's be realistic here. If he intends to butcher me, he doesn't have to take me into the woods to do it.
I accept his outstretched hand, and he laces his fingers through mine as if we're lovers out for a stroll. The contact sends a shivery feeling through me that has nothing to do with the weather. How is it that someone so clearly dangerous can make me feel so safe? It's such a strange enigma. He's the last person in the world I should trust. I'm not completely brain dead – I know his charm is nothing more than a snare. I know this. And still, I'm gambling on the assumption that he will keep his word. That he won't hurt me.
“Couldn't this wait 'til morning?” I can't help grumbling.
My complaining seems to amuse him. “You just now said you had no issues with the dark. If that's the case, then why should we wait?”
“You have a ready answer for everything, don't you?”
“You asked a question. I assumed you expected an answer.”
“Anyone ever tell you, you're kind of a smartass?”
“I've been called worse.” His smile is vaguely disturbing. “Much...much worse.”
Can't say I'm surprised.
We trudge on in silence, following the path made by the lantern. Snow is still falling, dusting my hair and eyelashes with ice crystals, so I pull the hood of my parka up over my head. Loc seems impervious to the cold. He's dressed in jeans, Timberland boots and a charcoal cable knit sweater, and that's it. No other covering whatsoever. I don't know how he hasn't turned into an icicle. Even with my hoodie and coat, I can still feel the chill.
I finally decide to ask. “Aren't you cold?”
“Volunteering to keep me warm?”
“Uh, no. I just thought it was weird, you telling me to put on a jacket when you're not even wearing one yourself.”
“I'm used to the cold.”
“I would think you'd be more used to the heat,” I quip. “Considering where you're from.”
“Funny girl, you are. You should take that act on the road.”
“Seriously, though. You're not cold?”
He guides my hand beneath his sweater to press it against his warm, taut abs. “You tell me. Do I feel cold?”
Suddenly I'm feeling rather warm myself. “No...” I cough to clear the hoarseness from my throat. “No. You don't.”
“Are you sure you're convinced? We could always go a little lower. Just in case there are any doubts.” His eyes twinkle as he grazes my hand across the snap of his jeans.
“Stop that!” Blushing, I retrieve my hand with a jerk and shove it into my pocket.
“Oh, come on now. Don't do that.”
“Do what?”
“Play the affronted little virgin. You can save your martyr routine, love. We both know you aren't so easily offended.” His mouth curves into that infuriating smirk he's so fond of. “And we're both fully aware of what you're capable of.”
I purse my lips into a pout. “Look. Just because I was stupid enough to agree to this unholy arrangement, doesn't mean I have to enjoy it.”
His laughter rings through the still night air. “My dear, sweet Judith! Make no mistake about it. You will most assuredly enjoy every moment of our...what did you call it? Unholy arrangement. Of that you can be certain.”
I'd protest, but there's little point. I've never been a very good liar.
Thankfully, his attention is drawn to something glinting in the pale light of the lantern. “Ah, here we are. See, that didn't take too long, did it?”
As we draw closer, I realize that the metallic glint is coming from a chain link fence. Part of it has been vandalized with bolt cutters, and Loc lifts the jagged square of latticed wire and holds it up. Apparently he expects me to climb through the opening.
“Ladies first,” he says with a grin. “Careful of the edges – they're sharp.”
“We're not about to do something we're liable to get arrested for, are we?” Bending down, I step in with one leg, then hook my fingers around the top part of the fence as I pull my other foot through.
“Perish the thought.” He ducks and follows behind gracefully, as if he's done this a hundred times before.
“What are we doing, then?”
“I brought you to see the horses.”
“Horses?” I look to my left, and end up startled almost out of my wits by what appears to be a giant teacup. That's right. A teacup. Nearly as tall as I am. Now that's random. “What the-”
“It was supposed to be an amusement park,” Loc explains. “Something else to offer the tourists who come here for the skiing. Also a place for parents to bring their hellions to get them out of the house once in a while, you know? Give them something to do besides plopping their little arses in front of the TV all summer long.”
“Oh-h...” Blinking, I can now make out that there are six of the teacups, arranged in a circle on a round platform with a brightly colored teapot in the center. So that's what this is. A kiddie ride. “What do you mean, was supposed to be?”
“Well, it's rumored the developer got in some trouble with the IRS and ended up abandoning the project. The bank has possession of it now, but for whatever reason they haven't made any attempt to do anything with the property. It's just been sitting here rusting away for the past five years. Humans. They do the strangest things.” He holds up the lantern. “Come on. This is what I wanted to show you.”
Fascinated, I follow behind, taking in our surroundings with interest. In spite of a few empty beer cans and the occasional graffiti, I'd guess that the place looks tame enough in the daytime. At night, though? It's creepy as all get-out. Like a setting from a Stephen King novel. I can only hope I don't glimpse anything that resembles a clown. I'm pretty sure if I had to, I could make a running leap over that chain link fence.
We pass a row of jaunty jalopies underneath a huge multicolored umbrella awning. To the right of us, a big green alligator grins from the track of his kiddie coaster. His wide, round eyes seem to follow me. An optical illusion, I know, but it's unsettling. The thing looks deranged. Why did they have to give him crazy eyes? He looks like a crossbreed of Wally Gator and Charles Manson.
“Want to go in the funhouse?” Loc suggests jokingly. At least, I hope he's joking. I look up to where he's pointing, to the lopsided letters in various faded colors. Maybe he should have said fu house, considering the “n” has fallen off. It looks more like a house of horrors to me. Filthy and grungy, like it's been sitting abandoned for fifteen years instead of five. Across the plywood of one of its shuttered doors, Keep Out is spray painted in black. The warning is unnecessary. You couldn't pay me enough to go in there.
“I think I'll pass,” I tell him dryly.
Laughing, he drapes an arm across my shoulders. “There's nothing to see in there anyway, other than a few trick mirrors. The construction on it was never finished.”
“Mirrors. Great.
That way you get every angle of the spiders and snakes.”
“Don't worry. That's not why we're here.”
“If you're trying to win me a goldfish, I think we're too late.” I peer over the counter of what was obviously intended to be a game kiosk. There's nothing there, of course. No stuffed animals, no inflatable aliens, no cheap plastic trinkets. It's just an empty frame with faded red and white stripes.
“No goldfish. Something better.” He continues to pull me along. Snow is coming down harder, the whirling whiteness making it more difficult to see. What are we even doing here? The abandoned park is pretty cool, I'll give him that, but we'd have gotten a much better view of it in the daylight. I don't know why he insisted on coming here at this godforsaken hour, in the middle of an approaching snowstorm.
I'm stumbling alongside him, my attention behind me as I gaze back at a motionless Tilt-A-Whirl, when he suddenly stops.
“Ladies and gentlemen, if I may direct your attention to the center stage...” Leaping onto a circular platform, Loc bows gallantly while grinning down at me. “...we have thrills and chills guaranteed to delight your senses and terrify your soul. The strangest sights you'll ever see, brought to you from the four corners of the world. You will be shocked and amazed. Tantalized and horrified. Join me on a departure from the expected while we delve into the mysteries of the unknown. Right this way, folks, step right up...”
I shake my head, laughing under the cover of my hand.
It's a carousel.
A gaudy, full-sized merry-go-round, miraculously untouched by the hands of vandals. Other than the grime, the only imperfections that stand out are a few shattered bulbs surrounding the mirrors on the central axis. Beyond that, it's in pristine condition. A work of art. Hard to believe anyone would leave such a lovely thing to rot.
So these are the horses he spoke of.
Graceful, whimsically beautiful, they are saddled and adorned with tassels and jewel-studded trappings. Their fixed manes seem to flow in the wind, heads proudly tossed back as if they are unfazed by their desertion. Each one a timeless showpiece. A reminder of county fairs with striped tents and hay beneath your feet. Of candy apples and bumper cars and the sound of balloons being popped with darts.
Taking Loc's proffered hand, I step up on the platform. “A carousel? That's what you wanted to show me?”
“Don't you like carousels?” Eyes flashing mischievously, he bends to set the lantern down. “I thought all little girls loved horses.”
“Oh no, I like it. It's just...not quite what I would've expected coming from you.” Actually this is the last thing I would've expected.
“Good. I would never want to be accused of being predictable.”
“I don't think you have anything to worry about there.”
“Shame, isn't it?” Wrapping both hands around one of the brass poles, Loc rests his cheek against it and gazes at me dreamily. “This place. Created and then abandoned. Fenced in and forgotten. Never given the chance to come alive. To flourish. To feed the very energy that keeps it going.”
I nod in agreement. It does seem like an extravagant waste.
He reflects on this for a moment before giving me a cryptic smile. “Shall we bring it to life, then?”
Hesitating, I tilt my head uncertainly. I don't really get what he's referring to. The amusement park itself? What, is he thinking of buying it? That seems like an odd investment for someone like him.
He unfurls one hand to trail his long fingers down the muzzle of the stallion. The way he's stroking it is almost sensual in a way, and I find myself mesmerized by his movements. Almost envious. If he touched me like that, I'd be putty in his hands. Our encounter in the limo was so brief, so impetuous. When the time comes, will he treat me with as much reverence?
“Live and run, my friends,” he murmurs softly, and then continues in something that sounds like Latin. “Es feram, impius et liberum.”
What the blazes is he doing?
I gasp, startled, almost blinded by the bright yellow lights as they flicker twice before illuminating the darkness with a steady glow. At the same time, the platform beneath my feet begins to slowly revolve. I clutch his arm in amazement as the bright-eyed fiberglass horses jerk to life, moving up and down on their posts.
“Holy shit,” I breathe, pressing my lips together to suppress a manic giggle. I want to ask him how he did it, but I know it's futile. He'd never tell me. “Have you lost it? Someone's going to call the cops!”
He merely smiles. Obviously he isn't the least bit concerned by the prospect.
I reassure myself with the fact that it's the middle of the night, and with the snow coming down the way it is, there can't be too many people out on the roads.
“How about a ride?” Using his sleeve to wipe five years worth of dust off the saddle, he gives it a pat. “Hop on.”
Well, why not? You're never too old for merry-go-rounds.
I scramble onto the horse on its next rotation down, exhilarated by the weirdness of it all. My legs dangle as the cranks turn the brass pole up...then down. Up...then down. The red cars of the Tilt-A-Whirl glide past my line of vision, eventually reappearing as we circle around again.
It's been at least a dozen years since I've been on a carousel, but the memories are as vivid as if it was yesterday. The local fair in autumn. My parents waving to me with every revolution. My brother, scarfing a corn dog while making faces at me. I can almost smell the aroma of cotton candy and popcorn and hear screams of laughter coming from the rides on the midway.
The music, though...
It's wrong, I suddenly realize. Off, somehow. This isn't the cheerful calliope rendition of Organ Grinder's Serenade. There's something vaguely unwholesome about the eerie minor chords of the pipe organ.
I lean closer to Loc to ask, “What's with the music?” Surely this wasn't the intended soundtrack for impressionable young children.
“I may have tweaked it a bit. I think my version is better.”
“Your version would give the kiddies nightmares!”
Laying a hand on the galloper's flank, he shrugs indifferently. “Nightmares are only dreams that have grown bored of the monotony. They're so much more interesting, if you ask me.”
“I think a lot of people would disagree.” Smiling, I push back my hood and lift my face to the sky, breathing in the frozen night air while the weird piping of the calliope seems to crescendo. Or maybe not. Maybe it's just my imagination.
“And you? Would you disagree?” He sounds genuinely curious.
“You're asking me if I enjoy having bad dreams?”
“Whether or not they're bad depends on your point of view. To some, nightmares consist of chaos and macabre imagery. That's why people fear them. You see, they don't appreciate the thrill, the adrenaline rush of not knowing what's going to happen next.” His eyes, wicked as the devil's soul, shimmer like jewels as he watches me with a fixed stare. “What sort of person are you, Judith? Do you embrace your nightmares? Or do you run from them?”
In the midst of the whirling snow, the carousel picks up speed. I was right – the tune is changing, growing wilder, more discordant. If I thought the music was unsettling before, it's downright terrifying now.
“What are you doing?” I look around in alarm. The Tilt-A-Whirl is zipping past twice as fast as before. The icy wind whips my hair, stinging my cheeks. Beside me on the platform, Loc gazes at me impassively as if nothing at all is wrong.
But it is wrong. It's all very, very wrong.
“Slow down,” I beg. “Please! I don't think it's supposed to go this fast.”
His mouth curves into a sly smile. “What's that? You say you'd like to go faster?”
“No! I said slow down!” I scowl at him. He's fucking with me, and I don't like it. “Either slow it down or let me off. I mean it!”
“Let you off? But the ride's just started!”
“Well, make it stop!”
“Stop? Now surely you don't want that. You w
ant to go faster, yes?”
“This isn't funny, Loc! I'm serious.” I could jump off the horse, but at the rate we're moving I'd probably end up falling and cracking my skull on something.
“It's a little funny.”
“It is not!” I'm trying to hold back a hysterical laugh, but the way he's looking at me right now, all sweet and innocent as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth...well, maybe he's right. It is a little funny. “You're an asshole, you know that?”
He shakes his head with a theatrical sigh. “I really wish you hadn't said that. Now you've gone and hurt my feelings. Theirs, too.”
“I'll hurt more than your feelings if you don't stop this thing right now!” Theirs? Who is he talking about? Out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of movement that wasn't there before. Peering over my shoulder, I feel my eyes grow wide as saucers as one of the prancers in the middle row arcs its head to look at me.
It's alive.
Sweet mother of Jesus, that thing is alive!
Somehow, though it's nothing but painted fiberglass with a pole impaled through its back, the steed is awake and alert. Its flashing eyes roll maniacally as it tosses its head and snarls, gnashing with huge teeth as if it wants to tear me to pieces.
“Oh, holy shit...” My heart thuds wildly against my chest. Mesmerized, I remain glued to the aberration in horror, and then it suddenly dawns on me – I'm straddled on one of these things!
Slowly, dreading what I'm about to see, I turn my head to look down at the stallion between my legs.
One of its round crimson eyes rolls back and settles on me with a demonic glare.
“Loc...” I am frozen in terror, afraid to look away. Afraid to move. Afraid that one of these fiendish beasts will sink its teeth into me, or worse. The shrill calliope music clashes in my ears, and the carousel continues its runaway orbit.
“Yes, Jude?” His voice is maddeningly calm.
“Make it stop. Please make it stop.”
“I don't think so. Not just yet.”
“Dammit, Loc, I'm not fucking kidding...”
Reaching around me, he grabs the pole and swings one leg over the horse, pressing his body flush against mine. The stallion shakes its painted mane and I close my eyes to shut out the sight of those devil eyes.