Despite the drag of the late hours in my ghost town booth, by the third day of work even I could begrudgingly admit just how gorgeous the carnival looked as the lights began to flicker on in time with the setting sun.
The job had been set; pickup then distribution just as always.
Waiting by the metal shuttered window of the Quick-Shot Clown Pop, the darkness clung to me like a second skin. Across the way was all warm and glowing lights, bright neon with old-fashioned carnival music drifting through the night air. It seemed miles away; the only light emitted from my shadowy corner was an ember-tip that flared with every inhalation.
I watched Lou holding Birdie's hands on the buttons of The Switchback control panel, her mouth open in laughter as her puppeteer used them to operate the ride. Something about the sight ached, some kind of gloriously sweet sadness about the two of them melting honey-gold into the brightness of the fairground. Lou with calloused knuckles and a knife in his back pocket, Birdie with clover flowers tucked behind each ear.
My thoughts drifted, gaze wandering to the blur of the full moon behind it's veil of clouds. A night for doing bad deeds.
"You don't have to come with me, Slo," Lou had murmured two days ago when the call had come. His face was soft but jaw was set, and it was his Brave Face as I'd ever known it; shit-scared but unable to give in to it all.
Faced with that kind of courage, I'd follow him into any fray.
"Of course I'm coming," I'd said, grinning despite the cold claw of fear that hooked itself to my skin, "Just try and stop me."
It was harder to be brave now, about to head off into town to meet DeWitt's local contacts for the drop with no true clue of what we were walking into except that it'd be another deal with the devil; and there was still hell to pay.
The last ride of the night was announced, tickets eagerly pressed into the hands of the boy who collected them distractedly. Making my way over, I tried not to watch him as he shuffled them between his hands, the edge of a pink tongue poking from his mouth.
All passengers securely strapped in, 2D closed the gate with a clang. My breath hitched slightly as he tugged off his already unbuttoned uniform shirt to reveal the tight fitting white t shirt beneath, tucked greaser-style into black drainpipe jeans.
"Well, I'm awf," he announced, tossing the neat stack of tickets stubs into the waiting bin before stalking towards the fairground entrance. As our paths crossed, the blue-haired boy offered me a nonchalant nod before his long-legged stride carried him from view.
Trying not to pay attention to the twinge of disappointment I felt at his curt acknowledgment, I turned instead to wave up at Birdie from where she was now standing on the railing, arms whirling like the conductor of an orchestra as she traced the motion of the ride compartments. She smiled dreamily in response to my greeting before her attentions flicked back to The Switchback, locks of red hair floating about her face.
Lou stood like the proud captain of a ship, breaking in and out of concentration as he simultaneously watched the girl he loved whilst bringing the carriages to their final slow safe stop.
"Thank you ladies and laddies, you've been a wonderful audience," Lou purred into the desk microphone, a hammed up Scottish Elvis Presley.
The three of us waited for the cattle-like line of people to disembark the rattling metal stairs before Lou flicked the power-switch to the ride, plunging our sanctuary of twinkling lights into gloom. The chain clanked and scraped as he locked it around the gate. In the darkness his eyes still seemed to shine as he turned to me, his smile a flash of teeth before he spoke.
"Let's go."
Our small company walked stiffly through the slowly darkening fair, checking pockets for flick knives, cash and cards. Lou checked and rechecked the burn phone with the texted details. Birdie pulled the flowers from her hair, fingers lost in the wavy lengths as she fixed it back in a braid. I chain-smoked until my head began to spin, then lit matches while we waited for the bus into the town proper.
I'd gone through three matchbooks by the time it finally rumbled into view.
YOU ARE READING
The Trapeze Swinger
Fanfiction"Him. 2D. I could see him even now, his goofy grin while holding the water gun like a hunting rifle, lining me down the sight. His hands ruffling my hair, one eye closed in a squint as if sizing me up, as if looking into the sun." The year is 2003...
