Horseflies

by Bonnie Bryant

  Jamie looked up at Lisa and Carole and Stevie, his lower lip quivering. “Is it broken?”

  Lisa bent down and gave him a hug. “That’s what the sign says, Jamie. But there are lots of other rides here that are just as much fun as the merry-go-round.”

  “Do they have horses?”

  “Well, no, but—”

  “I want to ride on the merry-go-round!” Jamie crossed his arms and stamped his foot.

  “Hey, come on, Jamie.” Phil knelt down beside him. “There are lots of neat rides here. There’s the Tilt-A-Whirl carousel and the Typhoon and the Spyder and a really cool Ferris wheel. You might even be able to see Pine Hollow from the top of it!”

  Jamie peeked up at Phil. “Could I see Nickel?”

  Phil frowned. “Well, maybe. If Nickel’s outside, of course.”

  “Well, okay,” muttered Jamie, grabbing Lisa’s hand again.

  “You want to wear my space helmet?” Phil took off his pink hat and put it on Jamie’s head.

  Jamie looked up as the antennas wiggled above him.

  Phil led the way to the Ferris wheel, showing Jamie the face-painting booth and the haunted house along the way. Jamie looked at everything, but nothing brought a smile to his face. “I want to ride the merry-go-round,” he said again.

  They bought tickets for the Ferris wheel. All five of them could fit into one of the double seats. Jamie sat between Carole and Lisa; Stevie and Phil faced them.

  “Here we go,” Phil said as the wheel began to lift them up.

  “How’s your sensitive stomach, Lisa?” Stevie asked, pretending to be afraid. “You’re not going to barf, are you?”

  “No.” Lisa shook her head. “Sometimes I think my mother just dreams up things to worry about.”

  Bit by bit they rose higher, pausing as other people got on the ride. At the first stop they could see the tops of all the rides; then they could see the tops of all the trees; then suddenly they were at the top of the wheel and the whole countryside spread out before them like a green patchwork quilt.

  “Where’s Pine Hollow?” Jamie sat up straight and clutched the safety bar that held them in.

  “It should be right over there.” Phil squinted and pointed over Carole’s left shoulder. Jamie turned and peered at the distant scenery.

  “Can you see Nickel?” Stevie asked.

  Jamie looked for a moment, then slumped back disappointedly in the seat. “No,” he said as the Ferris wheel began to turn. “I want to ride the merry-go-round.”

  For three full rotations of the Ferris wheel, Jamie whined about the merry-go-round. Then the ride ended. Phil suggested they go buy Jamie some cotton candy. “Maybe it’ll sweeten him up and he’ll forget about the you-know-what,” he whispered in Stevie’s ear.

  “I sure hope so,” Stevie whispered back. “He’s acting as bratty as my brothers.”

  They walked over to a snack booth and bought Jamie a giant cone of pink-and-blue cotton candy.

  “Does it taste good, Jamie?” Stevie asked as they headed toward the Tilt-A-Whirl.

  Jamie nodded with his mouth full. “But I still want to ride the merry-go-round.”

  “There are a lot of other neat rides here, Jamie,” said Stevie. “Let’s go try them out!”

  So they spun twice on the Tilt-A-Whirl, turned upside down several times on the Phazer, and careened through at least three Typhoon rides. Stevie bought Jamie an Italian sausage sandwich while Carole and Lisa kept him well supplied with Sno-Kones and candy apples. All the while the only thing he talked about was the merry-go-round. Finally Phil took him to the milk bottle toss while The Saddle Club sat down under a tree to figure out what to do.

  “I don’t understand,” grumbled Stevie. “We’ve taken Jamie on every ride here twice, we’ve fed him all the junk food the fair has to offer, and he still can’t get over the merry-go-round.”

  “I know,” Carole said. “We’ve done everything we can to distract him from it, but nothing seems to work. He’s a sweet little boy at the stable, but here he’s a real pain in the neck.”

  “I’m sorry,” Lisa said sadly. “I had no idea he would act like this.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Stevie reassured her.

  “Hey, everybody. Look what Jamie won!”

  The girls looked up. Phil and Jamie were walking toward them. Jamie carried a huge brown teddy bear with a red bow around his neck.

  “Wow, Jamie!” Carole said. “How did you win that?”

  “He knocked down three bottles at the milk bottle toss,” Phil explained with a big wink. “Jamie’s got a great arm. The carnival guy was amazed!”

  “That’s terrific, Jamie!” Lisa said. “Aren’t you happy?”

  “Yes.” Jamie nodded. “But I still want to ride the merry-go-round.”

  Crestfallen, the girls looked at each other. Everything they did was useless. Everything Phil did was useless. Jamie wanted to ride the merry-go-round, and nothing else would do.

  “Wait,” Stevie said, jumping up off the bench. “I’ve got an idea. Why don’t we go back to the merry-go-round and see if they’ve fixed it?”

  “All right!” Jamie’s blue eyes sparkled.

  Carole and Lisa glanced at each other, both wondering if this was such a great idea, but Jamie was already tugging Stevie and Phil toward the merry-go-round. They had no choice but to follow.

  Hurrying past the gypsy fortune-teller and the dunking booth, they turned a corner and saw the merry-go-round, still dark and silent. The only thing different about it was that a carnival worker in denim coveralls was doing something to the motor with a wrench and an oil can.

  “Sorry, Jamie,” Phil said softly as tears came to the little boy’s eyes. “Looks like it’s still broken.”

  “Wait!” Stevie cried suddenly. “Stay right there. Don’t move. I’ve just had a stroke of genius!”

  Lisa and Carole stood beside Jamie and Phil and watched as Stevie ran to the merry-go-round. She threaded her way through the frozen horses and began talking to the man in the coveralls. He looked over at them once, scratched his head, then shrugged his shoulders. Stevie pumped his hand madly, then motioned for everybody to come over.

  “Are we going to ride?” Jamie asked excitedly.

  “I don’t know,” Carole answered, wondering about Stevie’s “stroke of genius.”

  “Jamie, this is Mr. Carter,” Stevie said as they approached the ride. “He says the merry-go-round has a broken crankshaft and won’t be fixed until the end of the week. But I explained to him that this is the only ride you really wanted to ride and how upset you are, and he says you can sit on whichever horse you want to.”

  “Really?” Jamie smiled for the first time that day.

  Stevie nodded.

  “Neat!” Jamie walked around the merry-go-round and studied each horse carefully. Finally he pointed to a coal black stallion wearing a red-and-gold saddle and rearing on its hind legs. “That one,” he said.

  “Exactly the one I would have chosen,” said Stevie. They walked over to the horse and she lifted Jamie onto its back. “Pretty neat, huh?” She smiled.

  “Yeah,” Jamie said. He put his feet in the little stirrups and stroked the horse’s wooden head. Then he closed his eyes and held the reins tight, pretending that the horse was galloping away with him. In just a moment, though, he opened his eyes again and looked at Stevie. “Can’t the man make it work just for a little while?” he asked.

  “I don’t think so, Jamie,” Stevie replied.

  “Not even for just one turn?”

  Stevie shook her head. “I think crankshafts take a long time to fix.”

  “Then I want to get off!”

  “Okay.” Stevie helped Jamie climb off the tall black horse. His legs wobbled a little as he walked to the edge of the platform, but he jumped off and landed squarely on the ground near Carole and Lisa. It was then, as Stevie was waving her thanks to Mr. Carter, that Jamie leaned over and made a retching sound. Just as Lisa turned to ask
him what was wrong, every bit of food that he had eaten that day came up and landed in a multicolored puddle at his feet.

  “Stevie!” Lisa cried. “Carole! Get me some water and a paper towel!” The two girls scurried off while Lisa picked Jamie up and carried him over to a shady tree. He looked pale and afraid.

  “Oooh, my stomach hurts,” he groaned, holding his middle.

  “I know. I think you’ve had too many rides and way too much to eat,” said Lisa gently.

  Carole dashed up. “Here are some wet napkins,” she said. “I couldn’t find any paper towels.”

  “And here’s some water and a soda,” Stevie said, running up with Phil. “My mom always gives me a soda when I throw up.”

  Jamie rinsed his mouth out with the water while Lisa wiped the damp napkins over his face. Fortunately, his shirt was still clean. “Gosh, Jamie,” she said after she had sponged his face off and wiped his forehead. “You feel awfully hot.”

  “I feel sick,” moaned Jamie.

  Carole bent down and felt his cheek. “He does feel hot, Lisa. Way too hot for just a warm day in early summer. I think he’s got a fever.”

  “Really?” Stevie reached down and felt Jamie’s other cheek. “Wow. I think Carole’s right. Jamie doesn’t have merry-go-round-itis. He’s really sick!”

  “What should we do now?” asked Phil.

  “What time is it?” asked Lisa.

  Stevie looked at her watch. “Three till three.”

  “Thank goodness,” Lisa said with relief. “If we leave right now, my mother should be waiting by the time we get Jamie to the parking lot.”

  “Are you sure she’ll be on time?” Phil asked.

  “Oh, yes,” replied Lisa. “My mother’s never been late a day in her life.”

  THEY HURRIED OUT to the parking lot. Phil carried Jamie piggyback while Stevie brought along the pink space helmet and the teddy bear. Lisa’s mother was waiting for them exactly where she said she’d be.

  “Hi,” Mrs. Atwood called as they walked up to the car. “Did everyone have a good time?”

  “Everyone but Jamie,” said Lisa.

  “What do you mean?” Mrs. Atwood frowned.

  “I think he’s sick, Mom,” Lisa replied worriedly. “I mean really sick. He’s hot and he threw up.”

  Jamie climbed off Phil’s back and crawled into the car. Mrs. Atwood turned around and felt his forehead with the back of her hand. “He’s definitely coming down with something,” she said. “He’s hot and his face looks flushed.” She gave Jamie a sympathetic smile. “Honey, does your tummy hurt?”

  Jamie nodded and curled himself up in the far corner of the backseat. “They didn’t even have a merry-go-round that worked,” he complained in a wounded voice.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry.” Mrs. Atwood stroked his hair gently. “Lisa, why don’t you sit in the back with Jamie and keep him company? Carole, you and Stevie can ride up front with me.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Atwood, but Phil and I are going to stay a little longer,” Stevie explained. “Mrs. Marsten’s going to give me a ride home later. My mom said it was okay.” She stashed the teddy bear and the pink space helmet in the backseat beside Lisa. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” she said as Carole climbed in beside Mrs. Atwood. “Jamie, I hope you feel better.”

  “Yeah, Jamie,” Phil added. “Me too. Take care of yourself.”

  Frowning, Jamie turned his head away from them and stared out the window.

  “You two have fun,” said Carole as Mrs. Atwood started the car. “See you tomorrow, Stevie.”

  Stevie and Phil waved, then headed back to the fair, hand in hand. Carole turned around and looked at Lisa and Jamie. Jamie’s face was deep pink and his eyelids fluttered as if he was about to fall asleep.

  “Gosh.” Carole frowned. “Maybe we shouldn’t have given him all that junk food. We fed him everything they were selling at the fair. Cotton candy, funnel cakes, Sno-Kones, and none of it had any kind of protein or vitamins. No wonder he threw up!”

  “I don’t know,” said Lisa, brushing Jamie’s bangs away from his clammy forehead. His eyes were closed, and he moaned sleepily. “I think he felt bad all morning. Remember how he was whining about the merry-go-round all day? That’s just not like him. I don’t think he would have acted like that if he hadn’t been sick to begin with.” She sighed. “I think all that junk food just made him feel a whole lot worse.”

  Carole shrugged. “I suppose. But who would have guessed he was sick? I thought he was just upset about the merry-go-round.”

  “Wait a minute,” Lisa said suddenly, squinting at a tiny red spot on Jamie’s neck. She pulled down the collar of his shirt, then lifted up the front of it. His stomach was covered in pin-sized red blisters. She looked up at Carole in alarm.

  “Unless Jamie’s got some kind of weird blister-shaped sunburn under his shirt, I think he’s got chicken pox!”

  “What?” cried Carole.

  “Mom!” Lisa tapped her mother on the shoulder. “Can you look at this?”

  Mrs. Atwood pulled off to the side of the road and stopped the car. She leaned over the seat and ran one finger gently over Jamie’s blotchy stomach. “Well, that’s exactly what they looked like when you and your brother had them,” she said. “I believe you’re right, Lisa. I think this child has chicken pox.”

  “Oh no,” Carole groaned. “He must have caught it at the stable. Remember when we talked to Max about Jamie riding Nickel? Somehow he must have caught it from Maxi.”

  “This is all my fault!” cried Lisa. “I was the one who suggested bringing Jamie to Pine Hollow in the first place. If I had just stayed at his house and baby-sat him there, this never would have happened. Now I have to tell his mother. I feel terrible!”

  “I’m sure Jamie’s mother will understand,” Mrs. Atwood said as she pulled back onto the highway. “Illnesses are just part of raising children. Parents have to be prepared for things like this to happen.”

  “But if it hadn’t been for me, it might not have happened for a long, long time,” Lisa replied miserably.

  Jamie squirmed on the seat, then leaned his head against Lisa’s shoulder. By the time they pulled into the Bacons’ driveway, he was sound asleep. Lisa gathered him up in her arms as Mrs. Atwood reached behind the seat and opened the door.

  “Do you want some help, Lisa?” Carole asked.

  “Yes. Could you bring in his teddy bear and the space helmet? And then hang around and give me some moral support?” Lisa dreaded telling Mrs. Bacon that she had taken her son out for a wonderful time at the fair and brought him back with an upset stomach and chicken pox.

  “Sure.” Carole fished Jamie’s prizes from the back of the car while Lisa carried Jamie against her shoulder.

  When Mrs. Bacon came to the door, Lisa told her the story. “Then, when I cleaned him up, he felt awfully hot, and on the way over here, I noticed all these red spots on his stomach.” She swallowed. “Mrs. Bacon, I think Jamie might have chicken pox. The daughter of the owner of Pine Hollow has it, and I think Jamie might have been exposed to it when I took him over there on Monday.”

  “Oh no,” said Mrs. Bacon. She took Jamie to the sofa and laid him down. He looked at his mother and again groaned sleepily. She pulled his shirt up and inspected his stomach. Just as Lisa had said, pinpoints of red prickled his stomach and chest. “Look.” Mrs. Bacon pointed to three new spots on Jamie’s cheek. “They’re beginning to pop out on his face, too.” She looked at Lisa. “I think you’re right. I think he does have chicken pox.”

  “I’m so sorry,” said Lisa, giving Carole a panic-stricken look. “I would never have taken him to Pine Hollow if I’d thought it would give him chicken pox!”

  Though Mrs. Bacon’s eyes were still full of concern, she smiled at Lisa and put an arm around her shoulders. “I know that, Lisa. And I don’t want you to worry about that for a minute. Jamie couldn’t have caught chicken pox at Pine Hollow. It takes a lot longer than two days for a disease like that to de
velop.” She looked at Carole. “He probably got it from one of his classmates at Fenton Hall before school was out. Poor little guy. He was so excited about going to the fair with you two and Stevie.”

  Though Lisa realized she wasn’t to blame, she still felt awful. “Is there anything we can do to help?” she asked.

  Mrs. Bacon thought a moment. “Well, it would be wonderful if you could help me get Jamie settled in his room.”

  The girls followed Mrs. Bacon as she carried Jamie down the hall to his bedroom. Lisa pulled the covers down on his bed while Carole arranged the space helmet on the teddy bear’s head and sat it in a rocking chair. Mrs. Bacon untied Jamie’s sneakers, laid him on the bed, and went into the hall to call the doctor’s office.

  Just as Mrs. Bacon began telling the nurse his symptons, Jamie opened his eyes.

  “Hi.” He blinked at Lisa and Carole, still groggy from his nap. “How come you’re here?”

  “Remember getting sick at the fair?” Lisa asked.

  Jamie nodded.

  “Remember getting into my mom’s car?”

  He nodded again.

  “Well, you fell asleep after that. We brought you home and put you to bed. Your mom’s just called the doctor.”

  Mrs. Bacon hung up the phone and came back into the room. “Well, Jamie, it seems that Lisa was right. You’ve got chicken pox. Dr. McLean says you need to stay in bed and get plenty of rest.”

  Jamie yawned.

  “Do you think you could go back to sleep now?”

  He nodded. Mrs. Bacon tucked the covers over him and kissed him on the cheek. “Then say good-bye to Lisa and Carole.”

  “Bye,” Jamie murmured. “Thanks for taking me to the fair.”

  Lisa smiled. “Bye, Jamie. I hope you feel better real soon.”

  “Let me see these girls to the door, Jamie, and I’ll be right back.” Mrs. Bacon motioned for Lisa and Carole to follow her out of the room.

  The girls tiptoed out into the hall. “Thanks so much for all your help,” Mrs. Bacon whispered as she closed Jamie’s door. “I know you tried your best to see that he had a good time today.”