by David Bell
“No,” she said, “let’s keep going. I want to check out this place right now.”
48
I took the state road, heading east. The sun was sliding down the sky behind me, so as I drove the sky began to darken, the first faint stars popping up ahead of me along with a bright half-moon.
I’d lived in Chicago so long, I’d forgotten what it was like to be out in the middle of nowhere at nightfall. The trees and farmland pressed close to the road. I went miles and miles without seeing another car or even a house or a gas station. And the darkness felt heavy, like a physical presence descending on top of me as I drove. Reflectors on the berm flashed in my headlights. The beams occasionally caught the eyes of scurrying animals, a raccoon or an opossum that heard the car and dashed away.
As I drove, I thought about Morgan. I could have ended the whole thing by calling the police and letting them know where Morgan was and headed on my way, never looking back. As I’d told her, it might have been the best thing for her, to give the ring back and be protected from Simon.
But then what would become of her? She’d face charges for the theft. She’d have to deal with that during her mother’s final days. She’d told me she quit her job.
And then there was the fact that I’d likely never see her again.
She’d promised some kind of answers at Fantasy Farm.
So I went to get them.
The GPS told me I was getting closer, that the site of the abandoned amusement park was coming up in less than ten minutes. I’d seen nothing for several miles, just trees and more trees. I thought the computer might be wrong. I seemed to be nowhere close to anything that might once have been civilization. But before I knew it, I saw a billboard-size sign, battered but standing, announcing the entrance to the park. It appeared as a dark shape against the darker night, and only as I came closer and the headlights picked it up did I see I was in the right place.
FANTASY FARM, the sign still read. FAMILY FUN FOR EVERYONE.
I turned left into the entrance to the park and came face-to-face with a low, padlocked gate. In the high beams, I saw it wasn’t tall, would be easy enough for an adult or a child to climb over, and the chain securing it in place looked loose, meaning that with a little effort it could be pried apart so someone could slip through.
Another car sat at the entrance already, a gray sedan with Kentucky plates that I parked alongside. I assumed it was Morgan’s rental, although I hadn’t yet seen the vehicle she was driving. Before I turned the engine off, the headlights sliced through the gate and down the midway. I stared for a moment, looking for Morgan, looking for sign of her, but I saw only a series of squat buildings on either side of the midway, weeds and grasses growing through the cracked pavement. Empty beer bottles and soda cans littered the ground.
I turned the car off and climbed out. The ground was gravelly, and my shoes scraped against the small rocks, every noise amplified in the quiet air. The only other sound came from crickets and night birds. There was no traffic. No human sounds.
I went over to the gray vehicle. I wished I’d brought a flashlight, then remembered the app on my phone. I turned it on and waved my phone over the car, trying to see if there was anyone inside. There wasn’t. Just some papers, a fast food wrapper, an empty soda can. Morgan could have just opened up the window and tossed all of the junk inside the park, where it would have had plenty of company. Or Billy could have come up from the hotel and had plenty of work to do, hauling it away.
I looked around the area and saw no one. I’d expected Morgan to wait for me, to tell me where to go or what to do since I’d never been to the place, and it was getting darker and darker. I thought about calling her name, hoping to summon her out of the night, but that seemed unwise. I wasn’t sure why, but I didn’t think I should call attention to myself out in the middle of nowhere.
I hesitated there, before the gate to Fantasy Farm. I could easily turn around and go back to town. Or I could call for help.
I checked my phone, intending to call Morgan back and ask her where she was, but there was no service. I walked in a circle, even going out into the road, hoping to catch a signal but couldn’t.
A slight chill had descended with the darkness. And something rustled in the brush—a bird, a small animal.
I’d come that far. . . .
Once I’d made up my mind, I covered the short distance to the gate, quickly pulled it apart, and with a little effort squeezed my body through. I stood alone on the midway. I started walking, looking for Morgan.
49
My eyes adjusted to the dark.
I moved slowly down the midway. I wasn’t sure what I expected to happen as I walked. Did I think a killer clown with a knife would leap out from behind a bush? Did I think I’d encounter the ghosts of long-forgotten park employees?
If anything, the remnants of the park brought back my own memories. On both sides of the midway I saw small, empty booths that once held games: a shooting gallery, a ring toss, an automated horse race that patrons could place bets on. All of them had either been torn out and removed or were in such disrepair as to be almost unrecognizable. Graffiti, little of it clever or interesting, covered every surface.
I felt a stirring of nostalgia in my chest, a fluttering as light as the wind that stirred the trees arching overhead. I remembered my dad taking me to the county fair every fall. He showed enormous patience then, walking by my side and handing me dollar bills as I tried my luck at games just like the ones I passed. After my mother left, we went back, both of us wandering through our lives a little like survivors of a bombing. I’m not sure he knew how to talk to me about what had happened, so going to the fair was his way of trying to cheer me up. I felt grateful for his patient efforts, and the last thing I wanted to do was get myself into some kind of trouble I couldn’t get out of, to make my father face the prospect of losing me after everything he’d already been through.
The games and booths gave way to empty and abandoned rides. I saw what was left of a carousel, the horses long gone, and then a circular conveyance called Down to the Sea, where kids had pretended to steer tiny boats in about a foot of water. There were bumper cars, the skeletal remains of a tiny roller coaster, a series of stanchions that once held a Ferris wheel. I listened intently as I walked, looking from side to side. But I saw no sign of other people and heard little beyond the incessant chattering of crickets, the lone hoot of an owl. A car passed on the road far behind me, its engine a low hum as it went by.
I came to a crossroads of sorts where the main midway intersected another path. It took me a moment in the dark, but then I saw a signpost on the right, indicating with arrows where the park’s other attractions lay, to guide the overwhelmed and confused parents who were shepherding their kids along. Most of the surface area of the signs had been graffitied, but I was able to tell through the sloppy spray paint that if I turned left, I’d end up at the water slide and swimming pool. If I turned right, I’d be heading toward the petting zoo.
I remembered Morgan crying in the night, her troubled memories of her mother specifically about the petting zoo. And the photo showed the same thing, so I turned that way.
I passed a padlocked bathroom and a former snack bar that someone had set on fire, leaving the sides scorched black, the comical image of a child eating an ice cream cone obliterated except for the smiling face.
Ahead I saw the outline of a rail fence and a small barn. Years had clearly passed since the park was last open, so maybe it was just my imagination playing tricks on me, but I would have sworn I smelled the sweet scent of hay and the ripe stench of farm animals reaching me as I moved closer. That was when a tall, slender figure emerged from the shadows of the barn. She walked over to the fence and waited for me until I got there.
“For a minute there I wondered if you’d remember where to find me.” She leaned against the top of the weathered, decaying fence, looking as natural as
if we were just hanging out at the ranch, preparing to exercise the horses. “But then I knew that was foolish to wonder. You seem like the kind of guy who listens and pays attention.”
I came closer and leaned against the fence next to her. I looked past Morgan and peered into the darkness of the barn. “Yeah, I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not. Sometimes it’s better not to hear everything.”
“I’m glad you did,” Morgan said. She reached out and placed her hand on my arm.
I wanted to pull back but didn’t. Still my body tensed, something Morgan registered, her face showing surprise at my edginess.
“What did you think?” I asked. “Did you think I’d show up and . . . what? I’d be happy to see you?”
“Okay, I guess I can see that now.”
“You should have seen it when you ran out on me. Hell, you’ve run off several times. The only reason I’m here is because you promised to clear everything up once and for all. You said you’d explain why you were in Wyckoff in the first place. So . . . let’s get to it. It’s dark, and there’s a crazy man and the police looking for both of us. So this better be good. Really good.”
Morgan glanced down at the ground, almost as though she wanted to rest her head against the top rail. I waited until she looked up again.
“Do you want to climb over the fence and have a look in the barn?”
“Why would I do that?” I asked. “Are we going to re-create your childhood?”
She leaned back. Even in the dark, I could see the hurt on her face. I hadn’t meant to send my words out like a slap, but I was more frustrated than I realized.
“Okay,” I said. “What’s in there? Why am I going in the barn?”
She stepped back. “You wanted answers. They’re here.”
What choice did I really have?
So I took a step up, placing my foot on the lowest rail, and swung my body over, hoping the fence would hold. Once on the other side, I followed Morgan to the barn.
50
When we reached the opening to the barn, the two big doors stood wide and appeared on the verge of falling off their hinges. Morgan stopped. She looked into the darkness and then back at me. She dug around in the pocket of her hoodie and came out with the tissue-wrapped object, the one I’d seen back in the hotel room.
“The ring?” I said.
She nodded. “I wish I’d planned better, but everything has been a little chaotic.” Her voice was somber, quivering slightly. In the darkness, the whites of her eyes were prominent, like a scared animal’s. “I’m glad you’re here. I really don’t want to go in there alone.”
“Why not?”
“It sounds crazy, I know. Because I’ve been in there already.”
“You mean when you were a kid?” I asked. “Or . . .” I felt like I was one step behind, trying to keep up with someone who knew much more than I did. “Why exactly do you have the ring here? You said this was going to explain everything.”
“In there. It explains everything.”
“Then let’s go in.” I tapped my phone, activating the flashlight. I knew I sounded more confident than I felt. Sure, it was just an empty barn in an abandoned amusement park on a pleasant early October night. But Morgan’s anxiety had infected me. She knew why we were here, but she didn’t want to go in.
Did I have something to be afraid of? And if so, what?
There was no other way to know. . . .
I stepped past her, holding the light in front of us. It cast a glowing cone over the barn floor, picking up decaying hay, dirt, a beer bottle. Off to the right, I saw a used condom, limp and tangled in the bright beam, and some small scattered droppings, likely from mice or rats. Something scurried off to the left, and I jerked the phone over that way, my heart rate accelerating, but the creature moved so fast the light couldn’t catch it.
“Easy,” Morgan said behind me.
“Easy?”
“Near the back there,” she said. “On the left. That’s where we’re going.”
“And do you mind telling me what we’re going to see?” I asked. “Is there a giant monster waiting to eat me?”
“Not quite—”
She stopped speaking and spun around, facing the entrance to the barn.
I froze in place and whispered, “What is it?”
She held up her index finger.
We both stood there, like kids playing statues.
Just when I thought there was nothing going on, that we’d be able to continue toward whatever she wanted to show me in the back of the barn, I heard the noise. Footsteps. Heavy and not at all subtle. In the flashlight glow, Morgan’s eyes widened farther than seemed possible.
I thought it was the police. Or maybe some kids hoping to have a good time, only to find adults there ruining their fun. There was no way the light hadn’t been visible through the rickety wooden slats of the barn. I shut it off, but it was obvious we were inside.
I moved past Morgan, back toward the open doors.
She placed her hand on my arm, trying to stop me. “Wait,” she said. “You don’t know who it is.”
“We’re trapped in here anyway,” I said. “What else can we do?”
I went over to the door, stepping carefully over the garbage, making sure not to kick anything. When I reached the entrance, I peeked out, moving my head slowly.
In the dim light, I saw a figure, a large figure, leaning against the top of the fence. He looked like a rancher in an old movie, the corrupt cattle baron who would do anything to see that his empire survived.
I wished I’d stayed inside the barn. I wished there were another way out.
But there wasn’t. We were all face-to-face.
“Well, well,” he said.
“Hello, Simon,” I said.
51
With surprising ease and deftness for a man his size, Simon swung his leg up onto the fence rail and came over it, landing on both feet like a gymnast. He straightened and moved toward us, his jacket lifting away from his body in the light breeze.
I put my hand out instinctively, placing it in front of Morgan and moving her behind me. As though that would make any great difference.
He stopped a few feet away from me, looming before us like a giant tree. He smiled without showing his teeth.
“What do you know? This worked out better than I could have imagined.”
Morgan moved forward, her body pressing against my hand. I pushed harder, keeping her back.
“What do you want?” I asked.
He stared at me for a moment like I was something he’d discovered under a microscope. “The laundry cart, right? You went out in the laundry cart, didn’t you?”
“I preferred it to dealing with you.”
He wagged his finger at me. “You should have worked with me. You could have told me what I wanted to know, and then you would have been done with it all. Now you’re tied up with her. And whatever happens to her might happen to you.”
“Maybe the police are on their way,” I said, trying a bluff.
“How would the police even know where we are? I bet they’re not coming by anytime soon.” He looked to either side of me. “Judging from the shape of this place, they don’t really care what goes on out here, so long as no one gets too crazy. And if things get crazy, we can hope it isn’t too loud, so no one will hear.”
“Why don’t we all just head back to town?” I said. “We can talk in public. It’s getting late and dark out here. We can barely see.”
But Simon’s attention left me. He looked past me, over my left shoulder, at Morgan. His eyes zeroed in on her as if there was nothing else in the world to look at.
“You know what I want,” he said directly to her. “I made it clear in Nashville. There can be no doubt you understand what this is about.”
The words almost sprun
g out of my mouth: Give him the damn ring. But I held back. Even though I found myself standing between the two of them, and even though it was painfully clear I was in as much jeopardy as Morgan was, it wasn’t my choice to make. And, no, I didn’t trust the guy. He didn’t seem to be the kind of person who would keep his word or be satisfied with just getting one thing handed back to him. He seemed like the kind of guy who wanted it all, who wouldn’t be content until he’d crushed everyone into dirt under his shoes.
Morgan must have read my mind.
“I don’t believe you,” she said. “I don’t believe you’d ever leave me alone. You threatened me. You threatened my mother.”
“And you killed my brother,” he said. “Which is worse?”
“It’s a big leap to say she’s a murder suspect,” I said.
“Oh, really? Hell, you’re probably a suspect too. You’re running around with her. Do you think that doesn’t look bad?”
“Let him go, okay?” Morgan said.
“What?” I asked, looking over my shoulder at her. “No.”
“Just let him go,” she said. “He didn’t have anything to do with this. He wasn’t involved . . . except that he followed me here. But not because he knows what I’ve done. Let him go, just let him walk away, and then you and I can settle things.”
Simon looked surprised. And then he shook his head. “How are we going to settle things out here?” he asked. “We’re so far from where we started, there’s no way we can end this. Not easily.”
Then Morgan thrust her hand out. Simon jerked his head back, then furrowed his brow as he studied what she held.
I looked too. And I understood. The red tissue paper. The little package.
Simon snatched it out of her hand and started to unwrap it.
52
Kimberly quickly became disoriented as they headed down the dark state road. The sun was long gone, and the stars popped out like white dots against the black night. She wanted Hughes to drive faster, but she seemed to be going as quickly as was reasonably safe. The road wound and dipped, and Kimberly’s stomach rose and fell with each hill.