Chasing Forever Down

by Nikki Godwin

  Chapter Eleven

  “Piña coladas with pineapple rum – best you’ll ever taste,” Alston says.

  He hands a martini glass to Linzi. She sips from the straw then raves about how it’s the best she’s ever had, like she’s an expert in mixed drinks at seventeen.

  A.J. shakes his head. “You’re fucking kidding me, man. I need a beer.”

  He pushes past Alston and heads back down to the kitchen, leaving the rest of us on the rooftop of the condo.

  Nighttime in California is magical. The ocean is black glass, shifting back and forth against the winds with the whitecaps rolling in. An abundance of stars are sprinkled throughout the dark clouds. Everything has that soft milky velvet feel to it. I want to slip in between the clouds and waves just like warm blankets straight out of the dryer.

  “What’s out there?” Linzi asks. She points into the distance past the old wooden beach house where the Hooligans partied the other night.

  “Crescent Cove’s old carnival,” A.J.’s voice answers from behind me. He throws his head back to chug down half of his beer then sets the can down and sits next to me. “You know that place is haunted, right?”

  Linzi sips on her straw, but her eyes are zoned in on A.J. and whatever wild story he’s about to tell us. “Is it true or just legend?” she asks.

  “True story,” A.J. says. “Schizophrenic clown…they called him Lickety Split… get it? Split? Anyway, he saw himself in the House of Mirrors, freaked out and attacked his reflection, and the mirror shattered. Sliced right through him.”

  I wait for him to laugh. Or at least for Alston to. But no one moves.

  “It stayed open for a while,” A.J. continues in that scary movie kind of voice, “but weird things started happening. Doors slamming, voices when no one else was around. There were screams reported from the House of Mirrors. They shut the place down almost two years ago. It’s just been left to rot.”

  Alston slams his glass down. “Let’s go out there!” he exclaims all too excitedly for me. His eyes glow with that reckless excitement A.J. had on the jet skis.

  “Hell yeah,” A.J. says. He’s on his feet instantly. “We can play hide-and-seek in the dark like we used to.”

  I turn to Reed, hoping for some sort of intervention. But what he says is far from anything I expected. “You’ve both been drinking…so I’m driving.”

  “Let’s go,” A.J. says. He grabs my hand, pulls me to my feet, and runs back down the stairs.

  I stumble behind, hoping my flip flops won’t betray me and send us both flying down the stairs. He’s laughing louder than necessary, and it echoes off the high ceiling in the kitchen.

  “Run!” he screams as soon as our feet hit the sidewalk. Sand crunches beneath us, but I just keep my feet moving. I squeeze A.J.’s hand so I won’t fall behind.

  He leaps over the side of Reed’s Jeep and turns back to pull me up. “Get in! Get in! Get in!” he spits out.

  I fall over him and collapse into the middle of the backseat. Our arms are entangled, and A.J. partially falls into the floorboard. I can’t stop laughing, and I don’t know why we’re rushing. Nothing is funny, but A.J.’s ear-to-ear smile keeps me laughing.

  “What was the point of that?” I ask once I catch my breath.

  He stretches an arm around my shoulders and pulls me close to him. “You’ll see. Watch this. Play along.”

  Alston and Linzi round the corner into the garage, and the disappointment on her face answers all of my questions.

  “Sorry lovers,” A.J. shouts out. “One of you will have to ride up front with Strick. It’s mine and Haley’s turn to suck face in the backseat.”

  I know he’s totally kidding and doing this not just for a reaction but to spite them. Still, I bury my face into his shoulder. It doesn’t do any good because Linzi knows I’m laughing at them. I’m sure this is supposed to make me a terrible friend, but right now, I don’t really care because it’s about time someone bitched about their constant make out sessions, and I didn’t have to be the bad guy. They’ve known each other, what, a total of three days?

  Alston crawls into the backseat with us. Reed glances around at the seating arrangement when he gets in the Jeep, but he doesn’t make any additional commentary after he sees Linzi staring out her window with her arms crossed over her chest. She might as well be bleeding teenage angst all over his passenger seat.

  The distant streetlights and the glow of the moon barely light up the old carnival grounds. The wooden sign hanging over the arched entranceway creaks as it rocks back and forth in the breeze floating off of the ocean.

  I try to imagine this place in its glory with children running, popcorn popping, and the games buzzing with noises of winning and laughter. But I can’t hallucinate those images any more than I can imagine the taste of one of those awesome carnival funnel cakes. The ticket booths are falling in with weather damage, and rust eats the surface of the metal rides.

  A.J. leads us around the sea creature carousel, and I want to unhinge the blue seahorse from the ride and take it home with me. He’s Solomon – life sized – and I wish I could touch up his peeling paint and shine his golden pole until he sparkled like I’m sure he once did.

  “A.J., you’re seeking,” Reed says. He looks over at me. “And you’re hiding with me.”

  “Alright,” A.J. says. “Just keep Lickety away from her.”

  “Shut up,” Reed says. He looks over at me. “Come on. We’re safe.”

  We leave A.J. on the old carousel straddling an orange octopus. He buries his face into a tentacle and begins to count to what is supposed to be one hundred. Alston and Linzi run in the opposite direction, past the rusted red and white tilt-a-whirl. Reed leads me through the shadows behind the pirate ship ride. A turquoise dragon takes up the entire side of the wooden ship, and his orange eyes face the sky. I’ve seen him before – on A.J.’s arm.

  Reed grabs my arm and pulls me to him. “Stay close,” he whispers. “We have to keep moving. We’re going to sneak into the House of Mirrors, but you have to watch your step. The floor is metal, and it echoes.”

  We slide along the back side of the ship facing the ocean. I bet the view of the water at sunset from the high point of the ship was beautiful in its day. It’s sad to know a place that once brought joy to so many people could go to ruins in such a short time. I wonder how often A.J. used to come out here.

  We slip behind an old game booth, and Reed puts his finger over his lips. A.J. hollers in the distance that time’s up. We haven’t even made it to the House of Mirrors yet. I’m not sure I really want to if the ghost of Lickety Split and his other personalities might be lurking around in there.

  “Trust me?” Reed whispers.

  His hazel eyes are lit up by the moonlight, and his nice guy attitude overflows from his pores in a way that, any other time, would sweep me and any other girl off her feet.

  “I trust you,” I whisper back, not nearly as convincing as Reed.

  The entranceway to the House of Mirrors is a long metal ramp. There’s no way we can go inside without being seen and waking the spirits of the carnival grounds. Reed points to an emergency exit on the side of the building. He climbs in first and pulls me up into the old house with him. The light of his cell phone startles me in the darkness. It bounces off all the mirrors surrounding us.

  “Upstairs,” he whispers. He locks his fingers with mine. “I don’t want to lose you in the dark.”

  He uses his free hand to light our path, and I watch the metal flooring so I won’t look up and see Lickety Split’s face staring at me through the many mirrors. I step softly, hoping not to draw A.J.’s attention to us…or anyone else’s for that matter.

  We stop on the top floor. This place is a crazy maze that Reed luckily knows his way around. “Stay here. I’m going to see where A.J. is,” Reed says just above a whisper.

  My knees are shaky, and I wish I had a railing or something nearby because I’m absolutely
terrified. The blue glow moves across the room, and Reed laughs though it’s barely audible.

  “We’re good,” he whispers. “Trust me on this, okay?”

  “On what?” I whisper.

  He holds his cell phone up and pulls one of the mirrors back like a sliding patio door. He shines his phone inside and looks back at me. “A.J. will never find us in here.”

  I step inside against my better judgment, and Reed slides the door back into place. His cell phone slips back into his pocket, leaving us alone with the pitch black night.

  “His name is Shark McAllister,” Reed whispers so closely to me that I can feel his breath on my neck. “Well, Jake McAllister, but everyone called him Shark. You’ve seen his work. It’s hanging up in the store and at Drenaline and basically anywhere else you look in the cove.”

  The silver logo on the shark photographs flashes through my mind. I pull back and try to see Reed’s face, but I see nothing in the dark. I latch onto his arm to steady myself. I feel like I’m on one of those rides where I’m suspended in the air and begging gravity to put me back on the ground.

  “He was Vin’s best friend,” Reed says. “He was a year older than Vin, local photographer. But he was a hardcore surfer, as hardcore as Taylor is now.”

  My increased heartbeat echoes against the metal floor, but as my breathing calms, I realize it’s not my heart that’s echoing.

  “Shhhh,” Reed whispers. He pulls me tightly against him, and I bury my face into his chest, breathing in the pineapple scent of his laundry detergent. I could melt in the smell of pineapple and die happily, I do believe.

  “I know you’re up here,” A.J. hollers out. “And don’t even think of jumping out and scaring me, you fucker. I know you and Blondie are in here sucking face since you couldn’t in the Jeep!”

  Reed’s body shakes as he tries to fight his laughter, which doesn’t help me any because I can feel his every move, and I’m piercing my lip trying not to laugh as well. A.J.’s footsteps draw closer, and Reed’s arms constrict around me, pressing me into his torso. I’m barely breathing just trying to stay silent.

  “Alright!” A.J. shouts out. “I’m leaving you lovebirds alone…but Lickety can see you!”

  His footsteps are loud and fast against the ramp outside, and Reed releases me from his anaconda grip.

  “I think we’re good for real now,” he says.

  He leans against the wall and pulls his cell phone out of his pocket to light up our tiny hideout. “Shark was the best surfer I knew, but he wouldn’t do it professionally because he didn’t want the competition to suck the fun out of it for him.”

  “So he was a photographer,” I say.

  “By profession, yeah,” Reed says. “I mean, he loved it, don’t get me wrong, but it was a job. He was really into underwater photography. His shark photos made him locally famous. Most of Cali knows his work.”

  I want to ask where I can buy some of his work, but I don’t want to draw away from the conversation. Still, I know one of those black and white shark photos would look amazing in a frame of driftwood.

  “Once he had some money saved up, he talked to my parents about building next to the store. We helped him build Drenaline Surf from the ground up. And that place blew up like we never expected,” Reed says.

  Reed shakes his head, slinging his bangs from his eyes. “He had the right reputation and went into business at just the right time. Two months after he opened, this kid walked through the door looking to buy a surfboard. An hour later, Shark had his own protégé.”

  “Colby Taylor,” I say.

  Reed nods. “He was on an intermediate level, but Shark saw his potential. They trained together every single day. In time, Drenaline was doing well enough that Shark thought he could afford to put his name on something, and he wanted it on Taylor.”

  “His first and only sponsor,” I remember aloud. I read that on the brochure at the bakery.

  “Yep,” Reed confirms. “But the first time Taylor competed, Shark had to stay at the store. He wasn’t as fully staffed back then, and it was in the heart of surf season, so he couldn’t lose the business.”

  My stomach sinks like a captured pirate ship. This is where the story changes. I can sense it in Reed’s voice.

  “What happened?” I ask.

  “Taylor called him to tell him he’d won,” Reed says. “It was huge, you know? For him, for Shark, for Drenaline. So Shark went out for a victory surf at sunset. He knew better, but he was so excited.”

  I blink repeatedly to fight the tears, but they drip down my face, and I taste it – just like the salty ocean is dripping from my eyes.

  “The chop was bad. And he knew it, damn it. He knew it,” Reed says. His body sinks just a bit against the metal wall behind him. “Rip current grabbed him, sucked him right in.”

  “He drowned,” I whisper.

  Reed nods. “I try to tell myself even now that that’s how Shark would’ve wanted to go – doing what he loved, in the ocean, celebrating – but it doesn’t make it any easier.”

  He slides his phone back into his pocket, leaving us in the dark space behind the mirror. It’s like that awkward moment at the funeral home where you’ve hugged someone and offered your condolences, but you know it’s not enough nor will it ever be. So I just stand here and hope he’ll say something to break the silence. And he does.

  “Vin took it the hardest though,” he says. “He’s dealt with Shark’s death every day since it happened, and he’s going to keep dealing with it.”

  There’s more to what he’s saying. I can hear it in his voice, but I don’t ask right now. It’s not the right time. They’re all dealing with the repercussions of Shark’s victory swim, but whatever Vin’s dealing with is bigger. Maybe that’s what pushed him into his con-artist lifestyle – cheating people because he was cheated out of time with his best friend.

  “You know, it’s weird telling you all this stuff. We spend all of our time trying to keep everything under wraps with Taylor – not spilling our guts about Shark and Vin and everything else,” Reed says.

  He laughs, and most of the tension falls through the floor. I can breathe again, at least for a moment. The thought of conquering Vin leaves a knot in my stomach. He’ll be my biggest obstacle yet, even more so than driving across the country blindly in hopes of finding a guy with a cover band’s drumsticks.

  A.J.’s scream rips that knot from my stomach up through my throat. Reed jumps at the same time and grabs the sliding mirror. Moonlight bounces off the warped mirrors, and Reed’s grasp on my wrist tightens as he me pulls through the maze. Our shoes echo against the metal ramp as we run outside of the House of Mirrors.

  “Where the hell is he?” Alston hollers out. He and Linzi meet us in front of an old popcorn stand. Alston spins in a circle, glancing over the grounds as best he can. “This isn’t funny, A.J.! Where are you?” he shouts out.

  The lovebirds head left in the direction of the old pirate ship, and I go with Reed toward the sea creature carousel. All of our voices blend together through the night calling out A.J.’s name with a few curse words and threats sprinkled in from Alston.

  “This isn’t funny,” Alston says as he and Linzi approach us again. “He’s just fucking with us because he can…all that talk about Lickety Split and this place being haunted. He’s trying to scare us. Motherfucker!”

  Alston kicks what’s left of a wooden ticket booth. I’m surprised it doesn’t collapse from the force.

  Reed takes a deep breath. “Calm down. He’s around here. He’s just goofing off.”

  On cue, A.J. leaps out of the dark game booth close by, screaming and growling in some kind of possessed zombie way. We all scream.

  “I’m sorry!” A.J. yells. He hops over the side of the booth and runs toward us. He grabs me instantly. “Vin made me. I’m sorry.”

  I push him away and watch Vin’s shadow move toward us from his and A.J.’s hiding spot. He’s laughing, and had Reed not
just told me all about Shark, I’d be cursing and screaming and possibly kicking Vin right now. How could we not hear his motorcycle?

  A.J.’s arms tighten around me from behind, and his chin settles into the hollow part of my shoulder. He smells like cigarettes and wintergreen gum.

  “Please forgive me,” he begs. “It’s really Vin’s fault. He held me at gunpoint.”

  A.J. is so ridiculous that I can’t help laughing. Alston mumbles under his breath about A.J.’s stupidity.

  Vin looks directly at me. “Lighten up, Sunshine. It’s all in fun, right?”

  He laughs, and I really didn’t picture him as the type to goof off with A.J. Maybe I can break through his tough guy exterior in time to find Colby and chase forever down.

  “I thought you were working tonight,” I say.

  “I was,” he replies. “But there’s a storm brewing.”

  A.J.’s arms fall from around me, and Alston pulls away from Linzi. The two of them, along with Reed, freeze in a state of panic – their faces suddenly pale and eyes widened. A chill of fear and confusion sweeps over my skin. And in an instant of perfectly aligned paper stars, they all say one word – “Fuck.”