by Baen Books
"He did, yeah. He'd made his own promise, that he would go back. He was married to my mother."
Sally nodded, still staring down.
Moss looked up, into the deep blue sky. A shadow flashed over his face, and a seagull screamed. Music started from somewhere—sounded like merry-go-round music.
"We gotta get down," Sally said. "Park's opening for the day."
He did look down, then, thinking about the climb before him, and trying to guess would his chest seize again, like it'd done on the way up.
"We'll take the easy way down," Sally said, picking up a rough-wove mat, and dropping it flat to the platform.
"Here," she said.
Moss blinked.
"Sit down!"
She sounded a little impatient, suddenly, so he dropped to the mat—and gasped when she hit him between the shoulder blades. He yelled, the mat skidded forward, tipped—and hit the slide.
Wind rushed past his ears as the mat picked up speed. He yelled again, and the rushing air snatched his voice away with the rest of his breath, and he was flying, flying toward the ground in a grand, speeding spiral, and he leaned into the next curve, deliberately increasing his speed, chest aching, and the salty breeze in his mouth, and there was the end of the slide, and a stocky figure in a cap at the end of it, and just beyond a pile of sawdust, and he was airborne, sawdust erupting in a fragrant cloud. He collapsed, gasping, until strong arms came around and half-dragged him up and away.
"Can't stay there, boy; we got incomin'," somebody—Felsic—said, propping him up against a sturdy shoulder. He heard a yell over the laboring bellows of his heart and here came Sally, her mat already airborne, and she was out, over the edge, hitting the sawdust and waking an explosion. Pine scent enveloped him and he coughed, grabbing at his chest, and it was glorious, and it hurt. . .it hurt. . .
. . .nothing hurt at all.
He was laying on the ground, in the shade next to the end of the slide. His head was on Sally's knee, and Felsic was bent over him, one hand on his chest, he didn't hurt anymore, but only felt kind of light and cool.
"What's the matter with you, deah?" Felsic murmured.
Moss tried to marshal words out of the vast sense of cool peace, but Sally was quicker.
"He said he's gotta tricky heart," she said. "Needed a breather, part way up, climbin'."
"Rheumatic fever," Moss managed, so they had the right name of it. And if it meant that he couldn't work here, couldn't stay here, then he'd rather die --
"Don't fatch," Felsic said, and Moss felt the rising panic reverse, and just drain away.
"That's it," Felsic said. "You rest a spell. Sal—you go open up. Moss'll be along shortly."
"All right," she said, and Moss felt lips, cool and slightly damp, pressed against his cheek, before she moved his head from her lap to something else soft, and he heard her sneakers scuffing on the tarmac.
"I can work," Moss said, though without any urgency. "Don't want the boss mad at me, right off."
"She's fine." Felsic leaned back, hand slipping into a pocket. "This heart business. . ."
"Means I'm gonna die. But not today."
"Well, then. That's all any of us got, ain't it? You sit up all right?"
He did, with Felsic's help, and a couple minutes later, he stood under the same conditions.
"I'm good," he said. "I can work."
Felsic nodded and stood.
"Up to Sally, o'course, but don't be surprised you're on ticket-box today."
"If that's were she needs me. . ."
A gong sounded, loud; somewhere nearby a mule brayed in either complaint or approval.
"That's my call to the Coal Mine. You go on, an' be good, right?"
"Right."
The rides closed at eight o'clock. Moss went to get his pack from where he'd stowed it, in Boss Phyllis' office.
"Sally said you did good today," the boss said. "You comin' back tomorrow?"
"Yes, ma'am. I'll come every day you need me."
She gave him a once-over at that, like she heard what he hadn't said, but all she said was, "Showers in the White Way, next door. You hungry, you stop at Bob's over at Grand and Dube and tell 'em behind the counter that you work for me. Same thing tomorrow breakfast."
Moss looked at her careful.
"That's included in, or comes outta my pay?"
"Included in. That all right by you, deah?"
"Yes, ma'am," he said again; added, "thank you, ma'am;" grabbed his pack and headed for the showers.
There was space for him at the counter at Bob's. He told the counterman he worked for Phyllis, and pretty quick a hamburg platter and a big Coke landed in front of him. He ate it all, even the lettuce, and was finishing up his Coke when he noticed somebody at his elbow.
Well, the placed as packed, and it was probably somebody wanted his place. Moss swallowed the last of his Coke and stood up.
"Sorry," he said—and right then recognized Felsic.
"Evenin'," Felsic said. "You have a good day at work?"
"I did. I like it. Boss said I can come back tomorrow."
"Phyllis likes an eager worker. You keep eager, and she'll keep happy. You mind if I walk a ways with you?"
Moss hesitated, looking at Felsic. He didn't get the feeling that this was a set-up, but. . .
"Just a walk down the beach," Felsic said, nice and easy. "I'll keep m'hands in m'pockets."
It came to Moss that he liked Felsic, and there wasn't really no harm going for a walk.
"Sure," he said.
"You got a place to stay?"
That was a dangerous question, even if he did like Felsic. He wanted to stay here, in Archers Beach. Might be he was tired; he'd pushed himself hard the last couple days, and it could be his heart was tired. He'd think that, 'cept he didn't feel tired at all.
He felt more alive than he'd ever had, in all his life.
"I don't got a place right yet," he said, not wanting to outright lie.
"That's all right," Felsic said. "The land hereabouts is welcoming. You just find someplace comfortable and set down roots, if you've a mind to."
Moss considered that as they walked up the beach. The sand strip was much skinnier now, the sound of the waves striking a constant thunder in his ears. His bones shook with it.
Sally had told him that the water changed—the tide came in and the tide went out, but he hadn't been, in any way, prepared for the reality of high tide. The thunder and the spray and the salt and the wind—all of it just made him feel like shouting and dancing and take the thunder into his bones. . .
He closed his eyes and made himself pay attention to what Felsic had said.
"Just any place at all?" he asked. "Right here on the beach?"
"That could be a problem," Felsic said; "Generally the beach's held to be neutral—not belonging to the sea or the land, if you understand me."
Moss nodded. "No man's land."
There was a small silence, then Felsic outright laughed.
"That's it, that's it, exact! No man's land! You go a couple blocks inland, you might find something that'll do. Otherways, there's a youth hostel up at the top of Walnut. They'll spot you a night, you tell 'em you're working for Phyllis."
"Thanks," Moss said.
"No trouble, no trouble at all. I get off here." Felsic nodded toward the board walk crossing the dunes back onto the streets.
"I'll come with you, if I can," Moss said.
"Nothing stopping you that I see," Felsic answered easily, and so they crossed the boards together, and together they walked down to Grand, where Felsic turned right. Since he didn't have any reason to go left or right, so Moss stayed with Felsic. There was something. . .not kind—No, thought Moss, definitely not kind—about Felsic. Comforting. Down to earth, that was it.
Moss decided that he liked Felsic very much, indeed.
They walked for two blocks, then Felsic angled across the street to a place that was nothing but two houses, backing on what smelled
like a salt marsh.
"This is me," Felsic said, and reached out to touch him, softly on the arm.
"Try for something further in. Don't wanna walk too far to work."
That made sense, Moss thought, and in the time it took him to think so, Felsic had walked around the back of one of the houses—and was gone.
Moss shivered, though it was plenty warm.
Just went in the back door, he told himself, and as if to bear him out, a light came on in the nearest house.
Moss nodded, shifted his pack on his back and turned back toward the heart of town.
He didn't much care for the idea of staying at anything called a "youth hostel." There were a number of bad things that routinely happened in dormitories, a couple of which he'd experienced up close and personal. The worst part of those being that he'd known better.
Well, it wasn't raining fit to drown a frog tonight. Tonight it was fine and clear, and there weren't too many people around, down this part of town. No reason for people to come down this way, which didn't offer no music, nor beer, nor nothing much at all, 'cept some little houses, like where Felsic lived. Back one street, there were trees and marsh.
He hit the corner and paused. From the left, he heard the crash and thunder of the waves against the shore. His feet turned, just slightly in that direction, and then --
It smelled like green leaves, and clean dirt, and pine, with a sweet underneath—maybe some flower he didn't know. From his right, away from the sea, borne on a breeze, was what he thought, but the wind was coming from the left, damp and fresh off the back of the waves.
Moss breathed in, letting the sweet, green air melt in his mouth like ice cream. He thought of laying himself down on a mound of pine needles, and sleeping safe and unmolested.
He turned right, away from the crash and boom of the ocean, following the promise as much as the scent. A couple feet down, he left the sidewalk, following a thin, faintly glowing trail, through weeds and reeds, past some sapling trees, between a green-glowing boulder and a white birch tree. . .
. . .and into a clearing floored with soft pine needles. Just off center of the clearing stood the remains of a big, old tree, its limbs broken, but its trunk intact. He saw the small wrinkled objects dangling from one of the partial low branches, and put a name, at last, to the sweet smell.
Apples.
He sighed, looked around, feeling the welcome come up from the ground through the soles of his feet, and tears came to his eyes, even as he thought that this was what Felsic must've meant, about the land being welcoming.
And this little piece of land, right here, welcomed him.
"Thank you," he said, not feeling the littlest bit silly about talking outloud to trees and stones. "I'd like to stay here. I gotta get up in time for breakfast and work tomorrow, but I'll stay here, if you'll have me." He looked around, and saw the gleam of one of those stupid pull-tabs among the pine needles.
"I'll clean up," he said, "and do what else needs done."
The scent of apples grew momentarily stronger; he yawned, hard on it, and slipped his pack off his back.
"It's been a long day," he told the trees, and cast about him. There was a soft mound of leaves and old needles just under the old apple tree, and it came to him that there would be a comfortable bed.
He settled in with a sigh, his pack under his head, pine needles and dead leaves for a blanket, and drifted off to sleep.
He woke to bird song; opened his eyes and just laid there, smiling up into the broken branches above him and just feeling. . .happy. He'd had a dream that he'd talked to the grandmother of this little place, and she had told him that she loved him, and he could stay here forever, if he chose it.
Forever. Now, wasn't that something?
Moss sighed, and the bird sang again, louder this time, or so it seemed to Moss, and he remembered that he had to get up and go to work.
He left his pack leaning against the trunk of the old apple tree, confident that no one would mess with it while he was gone, then he left his welcoming little piece of land, and headed down to Bob's for breakfast.
He was at Noah's Ark well before the ten o'clock opening. Felsic was already there, tending the mules at the Coal Mine. Moss went over to help.
"Sleep good, deah?"
Moss smiled.
"Best in years. Found a. . .welcoming spot."
"Did you now?" Felsic murmured, moving a brush slowly down a mule's short neck.
Moss braced himself, but Felsic didn't ask him where he was sleeping. They finished up combing and harnessing in companionable silence, broken at last by the clang of the side gate closing.
"That'll be Sally," Felsic said. "Best you learn set-up over at the slide. 'preciate the help, here; you got a good hand with the animals."
"My grampaw had mules at his place. I used to help with 'em."
"Well, he taught you good. Go 'long, now."
It was good to belong, it was good to work, and to earn money, and to have a good, safe place that was his to care for, and that cared for him back. Summer heated up, people kept on coming down to Archers Beach, 'til there wasn't hardly any room to walk on the sidewalks, and the rides were busy from opening to close; and on July Fourth, him and Sally, and Felsic and Phyllis all climbed up to the top of Jack 'n Jill and stood on the platform to watch the fireworks. They were so high up, it was like being inside the sparks, and Moss felt each explosion echo in his chest.
In between, he worked on his land, clearing out the old trash, and finding the boundaries of the place that welcomed him, in particular, and bloomed under his care.
He met a bunch of folk, who worked on the rides, and elsewhere 'round the Beach. In particular, he met Vornflee, who was a friend of Felsic's, and who worked at the Moon Ride; and Bonny, who ran the carousel on the other side of the parking lot. Bonny was an important lady, Moss could see that. Even Phyllis deferred to her. She considered him for a long time after they was introduced, face serious; then she nodded, and put a hand on his shoulder.
"You'll do fine," she told him. "Just remember not to be afraid."
Truth said, he didn't have time to be afraid, busy as he was, and it was only 'cause Sally said something about the moon landing coming right up that he realized a month and more had gone past and he'd never been happier in his life.
"I'm goin' up to the top of the slide tonight, and see if I can't see it."
"See what?" Moss asked. "Moon's only just past new."
"The spaceship," Sally told him, with that little sniff that meant she was annoyed.
"Oh," Moss said, 'cause he didn't like Sally to be mad with him; "the spaceship. That's a different proposition. Maybe you can see that."
"I'm gonna try it," Sally said, determinedly; and added, with a side-look at him. "You can come up, too, if you want."
"Sure," he said. "Meet after dinner?"
She nodded, and the gong went off, and it was time to get to work.
He was finishing up his clam chowder when he heard the first siren, and lifted his head, eyes wide.
"Engine number one," Vornflee said, tipping his head, burger held between two hands.
"Headin' down the hill," Felsic said, pushing back from the table, and standing. "Let me just step outside an --"
"Fire at the White Way!" Bob yelled, coming out from the kitchen. "Just heard it on the scanner! All callmen wanted!"
Chairs scraped, and people jumped up, heading towards the door in a rush. Felsic started that way, too.
"You ain't a call man," Vornflee said.
"Fire at the White Way," Felsic said. "I better see to the mules."
Moss stood, too.
"I'll help," he said.
Vornflee sighed, put his burger down on the plate and got up, too.
"I'll watch."
There was a pumper engine 'round back of the White Way, and two volunteer firemen using hoses on a small, smoky fire at the back corner. Moss followed Felsic 'round and over the fence, which was a quicker rou
te to the Mine—and 'sides none of them had the key to the gate.
The space between the rides was filled with smoke, and Moss could hear the mules calling.
"Open the gate," Felsic told Vornflee. "Moss 'n me'll get the animals."
Vornflee nodded and ran; Moss followed Felsic.
The smoke was thicker by the entrance to the Mine, swirling around like it knew there was live things inside for it to torment. Felsic opened the door to the mule pen.
"Get the old man," Felsic said, and Moss grabbed a halter from the wall and went over the fence. The mules were anxious. A couple of the youngers brayed, presssed against the back of the enclosure, like they were trying to get away from the smoke that stalked them even there.
Old Man, though, he saw Moss and moved forward, two more mules following. Moss got the halter on, and patted the old mule.
"Let's go. s'only smoke so far, but you keep sensible, in case you see any fire." He looked at the two keeping pace, though they had no halters: Lacey and Gretel, both sensible folk.
"C'mon, then," he said, and walked them out of the enclosure, into the waiting area, and out into the park.
The smoke was still swirling, and Moss coughed as it got into his mouth. The Old Man was coming right along and his friends, too. Ahead, through the smoke, Moss could see the park gate open, and the parking lot full of cars beyond. He could hear music, from the Pier, and people shouting.
Bonny from the carousel was waiting outside, with Phyllis. Bonny took the Old Man's halter and led him away, toward the beach, Gretel and Lacy still following. Moss turned back, and here came Felsic, the rest of the mules following behind.
"Beach," said Phyllis, and Felsic turned that way.
An explosion rocked the night; smoke belched out of everywhere, like the sidewalks had opened up and hell was coming forth.
"Pull back, pull back! She's going up!"—that was the guys in the pumper truck, and there were other guys yelling—"Get those cars outta here!" and the sound of breaking glass, and—"Oh, no," Phyllis whispered. "Sally."