I was fighting off a yawn while dishing up snow cones on a Wednesday night when I heard a yell. It sounded like a yell of pain. A familiar yell.
I dropped the paper cone full of ice and dashed past my puzzled customer toward the midway, where the yell had come from.
It was Lucas.
Walter had been giving him all the crappiest jobs—cleaning up after shows in the Big Top, washing down the merry-go-round, Windexing the Museum of Mirrors.
Tonight he’d been the “victim” in the dunk tank, and a lot of town girls had lined up to drop the hot guy into the water. I didn’t blame them. I did, however, blame the carnivorous mermaid who’d been hiding in the tank. She’d bided her time and then taken a bite out of Lucas’s ankle.
By the time I arrived, people were shouting and Lucas was climbing over the side of the tank. He’d yanked off the collapsible seat and used it to fend off the mermaid. She was drifting around, holding her elbow and glaring.
“Everything’s okay, folks! Nothing to see here!” I called as I helped Lucas to his feet. His ankle was bleeding, though it was hard to tell how much, since the blood had mixed with the water. He looked dazed. “Come with me,” I hissed, and steered him away as fast as I could toward my trailer.
* * *
Lucas sat on a pile of towels on the end of my bed as I put the finishing touches on his bandage. He’d used up the rest of my towels drying himself off, and his black hair stuck up like duck fluff around his head.
“Walter’s going to be pissed,” he said, as I stood up, dusting off my hands. It was an unwieldy contraption of Band-Aids and gauze, but I figured it would hold.
“He’ll be glad you’re okay,” I said, surprised. Lucas glanced around my trailer. It was strange for me to realize that he’d never been inside it before. It was my sanctum, my private space, where no one could bother me. A velvet bedspread covered the bed, and everywhere else there was cloth and tape and sewing supplies. When you’re always on the move, it’s hard to buy clothes, so I had learned to make my own. That night, I was wearing a fifties circle skirt with pink poodles and a short red sweater.
I wondered if Lucas thought it was weird, not like a normal teenage girl’s room. After all, it was a caravan, meant to be hitched to a truck and dragged along the highway. Then again, if Lucas didn’t realize by now that I wasn’t a normal teenage girl, he never would.
He shook his dark head. “My stepdad doesn’t care. Not really.”
I sat down on the bed, not too close to him. “I’m sorry he’s been giving you the crap jobs. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you.”
He turned toward me. His eyes reminded me of lime snow cone syrup. “Can I tell you something no one else knows?”
I nodded.
“My mom didn’t die. She ran off and left. Abandoned me and Walter.” He studied the bandage on his ankle. “It was years ago, but she’s never tried to call or see how I’m doing or anything.”
I was shocked silent.
“I’ve been a burden to Walter since then. All he wanted was to get back into the carnival business. But he had to wait for me to be done with high school. I graduated in May.”
“So … you’re going to college in the fall?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t decided.” His eyes had darkened. Now they were more the color of pine needles.
I reached out and took his hand. “You couldn’t be a burden to anyone. I’ve seen how hard you’ve been trying to help out—taking those jobs and all. No one who was a burden would do that.”
Our eyes locked. He leaned forward, and I leaned forward. Our lips were a millimeter apart. I could feel him breathing. I couldn’t move. It felt like my whole body had locked up in anticipation.
He made an impatient noise. “Come here.” He pulled me into him, and then we were kissing.
I closed my eyes and saw carnival lights. Lucas tasted like sugar and water. His mouth moved over mine, sweet and hot. I reached up a hand to cup his cheek. It was soft, with just a hint of scruff under my palm. I stroked my fingers down to his shoulder, and we drew away from each other, shaky and smiling.
“I feel like I maybe wandered into the Tunnel of Love and inhaled some of that stuff,” Lucas said, his voice warm and soft.
I laughed, shivery all over. “Trust me, you didn’t. I wandered in there once when I was younger, and it was like…” I wrinkled my nose. “My head felt like it was full of bad poetry and chocolate boxes. I told Otto I loved him. And Throckmorton.”
“So”—he kissed along my ear—“it’s like … Hallmark love in there. Not real love.”
“Exactly.” I wanted to kiss him again, but the image of a Hallmark card, the one with a bunch of balloons on the front, was suddenly vivid in my mind.
I pulled away from Lucas. “Wait a second.”
He looked dazed, and my lipstick had left pink marks on his skin. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Or potentially everything.” I put my hands flat on his chest. “How do you know your mom ran away?”
“My mom?” He stared at me. “You want to talk about my mom? Okay. She left a note.”
“Do you remember what it said?”
Still looking at me like I was out of my mind, he reached into his pocket and produced his wallet. It was the kind with lots of small plastic compartments. Inside one of them, untouched by the water, was a folded-up piece of paper.
He handed it to me. It was creased and crushed and torn, but I could still read the words: Can’t stay … Don’t blame yourself … Don’t expect to hear from me.
I pressed the note to my chest and stared at him. “Lucas. We have a problem.”
* * *
In the morning, a loud bang woke me up. It was followed by a hair-raising growl. I went to the door, wrapped in a fuzzy pink bathrobe, with a candelabra in one hand, ready to bash any threatening beasties over the head with it.
I threw the door open. Uncle Walter stood on my front steps. Azatoth slurked behind him on his black metal chain, an unwholesome dent of darkness in the middle of the trampled grass.
“I’ve got something for you, Lulu.” Uncle Walter held out a manila envelope. “Your daddy running off like he did, well, it made for something of a legal tangle. You and me, we’re going to have to make some decisions about the carnival. I was thinking of keeping it open through September, for instance, maybe heading south where it’s warmer.”
“Okay.” Was it me, or did Walter sound folksier than usual? I took the envelope, which was stuffed with a thick sheaf of papers. I didn’t see any harm in staying open into the fall. “I’ll sign it and give it back to you later.”
He grinned—not a very nice grin. “Why? You got company?”
I was suddenly glad Lucas had left. We’d stopped kissing the night before so we could discuss the notes from our parents and argue about what to do next. When I kicked him out at three a.m., we were still arguing.
“None of your business,” I said, starting to close the door.
He grabbed the door and held it. I tried to push it closed, but I couldn’t. Walter was a lot stronger than he looked.
“See you at the Shack, Lulu,” he said, and let go. The door banged shut. Even through it, I could hear Azatoth hiss.
* * *
“Fast Eddie?” Lucas said. “You know a guy named Fast Eddie?”
“Yep,” I said. It was the next night, and I was manning the Snack Shack. I’d put up a hand-lettered sign saying “Out Of Everything No Food” so people would leave me alone. “He’s a lawyer. He’s fast at producing contracts.”
“Lulu…” He leaned on the counter. Lucas was wearing a black shirt tonight, and, for some reason, it made his skin look tan and his eyes really green. I wanted to jump across the counter and kiss him, but business first.
“Something is going on. My dad ran off and your mom ran off. They left notes that were practically identical. They both said to expect not to hear from them.” I crossed my arms across my chest.
“You know what else is weird? Otto left me his number and a forwarding address when he left, but no matter how often I call, no one ever picks up.”
“People are unreliable,” Lucas said. “You can’t depend on them. You want to talk about weird? Walter’s been squirreling away potions. He’s definitely up to something, I just don’t know what.”
“Lulu! Over here, Lulu!” It was Fast Eddie, waving.
Fast Eddie had come up through the carnival world. When I was little, he used to run the carousel. Then he’d gone to law school. He said the dark carnival had been perfect training. He came from a carnival family; people said they had some vampire in them. Maybe they did. I only ever saw Eddie at night, and he was awfully pale. But I try not to judge.
“Hey, Eddie. Snow cone? It’s on the house.”
He shook his head. “What’s happening? Why the urgent summons?”
“It’s about my dad. And—”
“Speedy Edward!” It was my uncle Walter. I reached to yank down the OUT OF EVERYTHING sign, but Lucas had already done it. He dropped the sign behind the counter and turned to his stepfather. Walter was beaming, but it was that slippery-shark smile. “Edward, it’s been a long time.”
Fast Eddie touched the brim of his hat. “It’s Eddie, thanks. Fast Eddie.”
“You’re in law now, I hear,” Walter said. “Why I remember when you used to run the carousel.” He glanced over at me. “Decided to have a lawyer look over those papers I gave you, huh?”
Lucas shot me a weird look. I hadn’t mentioned the papers to him yet. I’d told Eddie about them on the phone.
“I look over everything for Lulu,” Fast Eddie said, although this was a lie. “Family friend and all that.”
“Good to see you’ve got business sense. Not like your dad.” He gave me a nod, but he didn’t look pleased. “Drop the papers off at my trailer when you’re done with them, you hear?”
I made a face. No one liked going to Walter’s trailer because Azatoth slept nearby, chained to a giant tree stump. In the middle of the night, he howled like a lonely train. I didn’t know how Lucas could stand it.
Walter walked off, shoulders hunched. I took the manila envelope out from underneath the counter and handed it to Eddie. He pulled out the thick stack of papers and whistled.
“Lulu, what’s this? Why is your uncle giving you a bunch of papers that say you’re signing the carnival over to him? You don’t own the carnival—your dad does. Where is he, anyway?”
“He ran off. Didn’t you hear? Apparently he owed money all over.”
But Fast Eddie was already shaking his head. “No chance. Your dad was great with money. He had a college fund for you, a 401(k), a SEP IRA—”
“This is alphabet soup, Eddie,” I said. “What are you talking about?”
“Your dad didn’t owe anyone,” he said firmly. “And, anyway, if anything did happen to him, the carnival belongs to you as long as Mephit’s alive.”
“As long as Mephit’s alive?” I echoed. “Really?”
Fast Eddie nodded. “A demon is what makes a carnival what it is. A different demon means a different carnival. But Mephit’s one of the old ones—he ought to live a thousand years. So why would you want to sign over the fair?”
“I wouldn’t.” I glanced over to see Lucas’s reaction, but he had slipped away into the night, following his stepfather. I turned back to Eddie. “I’d never give up this place, or Mephit, or any of it.”
“I didn’t think so.” He handed the envelope back to me. “You be careful, Lulu, you hear me? I don’t think much of any of this.”
I clutched it to my chest. My mind was already racing, and I didn’t like what I was figuring out. “Me neither.”
His eyes darted behind me. “Also, there’s holy water in that slushie machine. Did you know?”
He turned and faded away, back into the shadows.
* * *
Holy water.
I stared at the slushie machine, horror spreading over me. Real horror, not the kind you get from clowns in scary makeup or ghouls jumping out at you in the Tunnel of Terror. The kind that comes from betrayal.
I thought about grabbing that ice every day, dumping the blood over it, carrying it to Mephit …
I ran toward the carousel. The summer night was hot, and the air was thick. I heard the merry-go-round, even at this distance, spraying tinny melodies up into the sky. When I was halfway there, a figure stepped out of the shadows, blocking my way. I screamed.
“Lulu,” a rough voice said. It was Lucas. We were on the midway, between the Crossbow Shoot and the High Striker, the strongman tower that Otto used to operate. He’d been replaced by a shady guy with a huge mallet. Every once in a while he’d slam the mallet down, the bell would ring, and the crowd would cheer weakly. I wanted to tell him the point was to let customers have a chance, but there was no time.
“Your stepfather has been feeding Mephit holy water.” I grabbed Lucas by the hand and towed him toward the carousel. “I don’t know how long he’s been doing it. Mephit’s a demon—he’s been poisoning him.”
“Lulu,” Lucas said, spinning me to face him. “Forget about that.”
“I’m not going to forget about it! Mephit’s like—he’s like family! And your stepfather is trying to get me to sign the carnival over to him—”
“Lulu.” His gaze was intent. “I love you.”
That did stop me. “What?”
“I love you. I’ve loved you since we first met.”
He pulled me close to him. The sounds of the carnival surrounded us, the shouts from the midway and the big tent, the clashing music. The night was hot, and our bodies melded into each other. His hands slid up my back.
“Lulu,” he whispered. “Tell me you love me.”
I blinked. I’d never liked a boy as much, and I loved talking to him and the way he made me laugh, but …
But he looked dazed. Unfocused. Like he’d walked into a tree. I narrowed my eyes.
“What’s wrong with you, Lucas?” I demanded. “Are you drunk?”
He shook his head. “Walter tried to convince me to help him. He could tell I wasn’t buying it, and he gave me … something.”
“What was it?”
“Not what he thought it was. There were two bottles on the table, and I switched them when he turned away for a moment. I think he meant to knock me out…”
I recognized his moony look then. “Love potion. It was love potion from the Tunnel.”
He rubbed his eyes. “It tasted like strawberry bubble gum. I pretended to be unconscious until he left the trailer. He must have already known that if he got rid of Mephit he wouldn’t need your signature…”
“Oh my God.” I pushed free of Lucas and stalked toward the carousel. He followed, calling my name.
A bunch of other people were shouting as well, mostly angry people who thought I was jumping ahead of them in line. Some kids were crying, too. Maybe they thought I’d take their painted horses. Maybe Lucas’s wild eyes were freaking them out.
I dived for the central cylinder of the ride and threw open the door. Lucas was still calling my name. I jumped inside, and he jumped after me, yanking the door shut behind us.
“Lulu,” he gasped, as I hurried down the stairs. “Look, I don’t want to be part of my stepfather’s plans. I’d never hurt you like that.”
“Go somewhere and lie down. Sober up.” I’d never had a weirder evening. We reached the ledge and I looked down. Mephit was lying in a curled ball at the bottom of the pit. Terror seized my heart.
“Mephit!” I shouted. “Mephit!”
He raised his head slowly. His blue eyes were washed out, almost to pale white. Poor Mephit. He’d been poisoned, and I’d inadvertently been helping the poisoner. If anything happened to him, I’d never forgive myself.
I dropped to my knees. “Mephit. You have to get the holy water out of your system. You have to throw up.”
Mephit made a glum noise and put his head back down
.
“You can’t just tell a demon to throw up,” Lucas said, sounding almost normal. “I don’t think that’s something they can do on command.”
I glared at him.
“Lulu,” he said, gently. “My love. I’d spare you this if I could.”
Mephit groaned as if in pain. I eyed Lucas speculatively, then stuck out my hand. “Help me up.”
He did. I fell against his chest, not accidentally. His eyes softened.
“Do you love me?” I asked.
“I adore you.”
Mephit definitely groaned this time, a sound of complete disgust.
I shut my eyes and hoped I would be forgiven for what I was about to do. “Kiss me. Kiss me, Lucas.”
Lucas pulled me toward him and kissed me. “I love you,” he said, between dotting kisses along my cheekbone. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I love your crazy clothes, and your rainbow hair, and the way you make me laugh, and the way you smell like roses…”
Mephit made a horrible urping, yowling sound. I broke away from Lucas just as Mephit threw up what looked like glowing golden syrup all over the floor of the pit.
“That’s disgusting,” Lucas said.
“Do I really smell like roses?” I asked him, intrigued, as Mephit eyed the gold stuff with suspicion. The blue color was already returning to his eyes, and the bare patches where his fur had seemed to rub away were growing back in.
“Lulu…” Lucas’s eyes widened. “I think it’s starting to wear off.”
I giggled. It might have been a touch of hysteria, given that I was trapped between a boy who was high on love potion and a vomiting demon.
“Oh, hell. What did I say to you?” Lucas demanded, grabbing fistfuls of his own hair. “Lulu, what?”
“Just that you loved me, and—Mephit!”
I screamed the last bit, because Mephit had burst out of his pit. In all the years I’d known him, he’d never used his bat wings. He used them now, sailing over the ledge and hurtling up the stairwell, a determined look on his face.
Summer Days and Summer Nights: Twelve Love Stories Page 32
