The Accidental Siren

11.5 Carnival

I left Ryan in the care of Sheriff Beeder and the carnies. On a hunch, I was rounding the corner of the funhouse between the colorful siding and the back of a row of port-o-potties. I had been watching the entrance and exit the whole time they were inside. If Mara left, she came out a different way.

I rounded the second corner and my suspicion was confirmed. A door was open. The handle read, “Emergency Exit Only.” On the ground, laying between a blanket of yellow rose petals, were two halves of a broken tiara.

I ran as fast as I could away from the funhouse, past the carousel, and through the midway. Where was Mara? Where was Danny!

Cherry red lights bounced in the sky. The wail of sirens stood out among the racket.

Again, the carnival had undergone a despondent metamorphosis. The carnies worked quickly to sedate the beast like the hunters who tried to tame King Kong. The games were closing. The lights were turning off. The kiosks and ticket booths were folding away like origami boxes.

But the carnival was still breathing.

Policemen spoke on megaphones from three different points throughout the park. Their voices overlapped and bounced through the streets, giving the beast an unintelligible, garbled language.

The people who stayed were clustered around the accident that I heard but couldn't see. It was the Tilt-a-Whirl. My parents were probably there, terrified that I was somehow involved in whatever incident created that sound, pacing circles and damning themselves for leaving us alone.

I stood in the center of the midway and searched for Mara. I stood on a trash can and called her name.

No reply.

In the distance, a single ride was still dancing along the horizon; the Salt and Pepper Shaker, twirling, twinkling, still singing the “game over” sound as the carriages rose and fell with screaming children.

*  *  *

I was panting. I keeled and grabbed the cramp in my stomach. But I had reached the ride.

I looked up and saw her, malevolent in her purple dress, weaving leisurely between a faction of unaware bystanders.

Her lips trembled. Her eyes were closed. I couldn't hear the words, but she was singing. Behind her, Danny followed like a rat to the Piper, lured by her melody and the poetry of her stride.

“Danny!” I screamed.

Through the safety gate. Past the operator. A cage zipped a foot from Mara’s face and her hair fluttered in its wake. Her timing was perfect as she stepped between the pair of tumbling carts.

“MARA!” I screamed! “NO!”

The girl reeled just in time to see the first cage slam into Danny's body, his limbs twitching as the ride carried him like a deer on the hood of a car; up, around, then down, declaring “game over!” as it propelled him into the pavement with a loud, dull slap.

If people were screaming, I didn't hear. I was focused on Mara Lynn watching me through the ride, the cages spinning between us, her image flickering like a film reel projected on a bed sheet.

The tempest of blood in her right eye watched me. Golden brown locks of hair snapped in the wind. Her ears bled from those amateur holes I bore, and her lips acknowledged me with a smile. The longer I watched, the deeper the sensation of calling Bloody Mary into a pitch-black mirror.

Mara, I knew now, was the carnival beast.

Mara was its brain.

My God, I realized. She knows!

My jealousy, my lust, my plots. Mara knew my transgressions and I was her next victim. Her face contorted behind that ride, her neck twisted like Ms. Grisham's. “Is this a ploy, Jaaames? Have you been a good little boy, Jaaames? Mentally undressing an innocent girl? Creating scenarios in your little head? Masturbating to your pervy thoughts, Jaaames? Savoring the moments your bodies touch, Jaaaaaames?”

Mara knew it all. I was no different than the ferrets and she knew it! I was just like Ryan and Danny and Little Trevor Tooth Fairy!

I turned from her horrible smile. I closed my eyes until my sockets fused. I felt her descend upon me, binding my arms with rosaries, crucifying my wrists with her teeth, and ravaging my body whole.

*  *  *

The ride stopped between us. The carnie awoke from his momentary bliss and his face melted at the sight. Children were sobbing and parents were shouting. There was blood on the grate of the first cage and a heap of dead bully on the ground beside me. One eye was buried in the cement. The other was open, watching me.

But I was alive. I had been spared.

I looked behind the cages but Mara was gone. I spun around, and there she was, sitting on the street with her back against a plastic trash can, knees to her chest, blood on her bare shoulder, weeping.

It was exactly what the world needed to see.