Short Stories

Michael Fedo: The Carnival

   The chartered bus stopped at the corner of Fourteenth and Squire.  Jerry smiled nervously, turned and waved to his mother, who stood weeping a few feet away, and boarded the bus.

   He returned the driver's silent nod and settled himself in the only remaining seat—near the front—next to a poorly dressed middle-aged woman.

   Jerry tingled with excitement.  He glanced around, eager for conversation, but the other passengers were strangely silent.  This puzzled Jerry, for he was looking forward with great anticipation to the carnival.

   Indeed, he felt fortunate in having won the drawing at school which allowed him to attend the carnival free, as a special guest of the government.  In an effort to encourage patronage among young people, the government agency – Populace Control—sponsored the drawings and contests for students.

   The man and the woman seated behind Jerry began talking about carnivals of years gone by—how they used to be very popular with kids, but weren't nearly as exciting as those of today.  From the way they spoke, Jerry guessed they had attended many carnivals.  He turned round and saw they were about the age of his parents.

   How much more interesting than his parents they were, Jerry thought.  His parents wouldn't dream of taking in the carnival, and Jerry sometimes wondered what they had to live for.

   The couple noticed Jerry staring at them, and he coughed and faced the front.  He squirmed in his seat. 

   The woman next to Jerry nudged him.  "You don't look old enough," she said, looking straight ahead.

"I'm sixteen," Jerry responded sharply.

   The woman turned toward him.  "They never had these when I was sixteen.  I wish they had."

"Why?"

   The woman ignored him. "I hope today's my day," she sighed, "Oh, let it be today."  She blew her nose into a crumpled handkerchief and stared out the mud-splattered window.

   The bus rolled past gray neighborhoods.  Silent people on the streets, wearing distant, vacant faces, did not look up as the bus went by.

   The bus joggled along with its silent passengers until it came to a stop in a part of town unfamiliar to Jerry.

   The driver stood and faced the passengers. "All right, folks," he said.  "This is it.  Get your I.D. cards read.  The P.C. officer will be boarding in a minute.  Those with government passes step to the front." Jerry got up.

"You got a pass?"  the woman next to him asked.

"Yes," Jerry said.  "I won it at school."

   The woman turned away again, and Jerry went to the front of the bus where the Populace Control officer was standing.

"Just a second, boy," he said, as Jerry held out his identification and pass.  "I have an announcement to make."  The passengers listlessly raised their heads.

"As you know," he began, "some of you may not be making the return trip on this bus."

   Jerry wished the officer would hurry.  Didn't he know there was a carnival out there?  Couldn't he tell that nobody wanted to hear him drone on and on?  Well, hurry up, Jerry wanted to shout.  Hurry up!

   The man completed his memorized presentation and looked at Jerry, who was chewing his knuckles in impatience.  "Take it easy, son," the officer said.  "there's plenty of time—plenty of opportunity for everyone."

"Yes, sir," Jerry said.

   He leaped from the bus as soon as the officer had punched his pass, and ran to join the clamoring throng at the carnival's main gate.