The Carnival of Wishes & Dreams

by Jenny Lundquist

  “How did you know that?” he asked.

  “How did I know what?”

  “My name. How did you know my name?”

  “What? Oh . . .” Harlow thought fast. “You told me before we rode the Clown Faces.”

  He shook his head. “I’m pretty sure I didn’t. I know I didn’t.”

  “Oh, um . . . I think I asked one of the girls your name.”

  “Oh yeah?” His eyes brightened with interest. “You asked about me?” Was Ethan trying to flirt with her? Because if he was . . . well, to be honest, it felt nice and she didn’t want it to stop. Harlow had missed him this past year, almost as much as she had missed Audrey and Grace.

  “I only asked about you,” Harlow said, “because I’ve never seen someone puke so much before.”

  He grinned. “What can I say? I’m gifted.”

  The carnie manning the game booth—who looked like he’d been waiting for Harlow and Ethan to stop talking—held out a box. “Pick your prize,” he told Harlow.

  She selected a tiny stuffed panda bear, then they both turned away and began walking, falling into step with each other. It was like they’d suddenly decided to spend some time hanging out together.

  “Where are your friends?” Harlow asked.

  Ethan shrugged. “Who knows? We split up earlier, and I haven’t seen them since.”

  As they walked, they passed by the Ferris wheel. Harlow had just enough time to wonder about the pumpkin gram she’d received before she heard Mr. McKinley’s voice call, “Ethan! Ethan, over here! I need to talk to you!”

  The change that came over Ethan was immediate. His grin vanished. His jaw tightened. And his shoulders tensed.

  “What’s wrong?” Harlow asked.

  “That’s my dad,” Ethan said as they both turned and walked toward the Ferris wheel. “What?” he said shortly when they reached Mr. McKinley, who was manning the control box.

  “Have you seen Grace or her mother tonight?” he asked.

  “Not since earlier,” Ethan answered. “Why?”

  Harlow hadn’t seen Mr. McKinley up close since she visited him in the hospital the day after the fire. He looked so much older now. He’d lost a lot of weight. His hair had turned gray, and his green eyes weren’t as bright as Harlow remembered, but dimmer. He looked like a ghost of his former self.

  “I heard they’re moving. If you see them, I want you to offer our help.”

  “Dad—the last person they’d accept help from is you.”

  Mr. McKinley’s face seemed to collapse in on itself, and he went back to the ride controls. “I just wanted to help,” he said, so softly Harlow wasn’t sure she heard right.

  Ethan whipped around and stomped off. Harlow jogged until she caught up with him.

  “That was mean,” she said.

  “How would you know?” he said, taking long strides. “You’re not from around here. You wouldn’t understand.”

  But Harlow thought she did understand. She’d heard the rumors about Mr. McKinley. How he couldn’t be counted on to take care of his kids now that Audrey’s mom had left. How his Chevy rolled into their driveway at the crack of dawn because he’d been out all night. How a few people had seen Audrey shopping for groceries at the general store, scratching her head as she read the directions off a box of mashed potatoes.

  Harlow was tempted to take her mask off and tell Ethan what her own father used to say about Mr. McKinley, before the fire tore their friendship apart: that Jimmy McKinley was not only one of his best friends in the world, but one of the hardest workers he’d ever met, too.

  Almost as if he could read her thoughts, Ethan said, “He’s changed a lot this year, is all.”

  Yeah, Harlow thought as they continued walking, I guess we’ve all changed.

   27

  Grace

  THE CARNIE STANDING IN FRONT of the iron gates wouldn’t let them back inside the carnival.

  “Where are your tickets?” he asked.

  “We already handed them over,” Grace said. “We’ve been here for hours; we just left for a little while.”

  “Did you get your hand stamped when you left?”

  “No—we were in a hurry.” Grace’s phone rang again, and she finally just shut it off. Her mother kept calling her, but Grace was determined to avoid speaking to her until after midnight.

  “Without a stamp there’s nothing I can do. Not unless you want to buy another ticket.”

  “Come on,” Diego said. “Can’t you just let us back in? It’s late—people are starting to leave.”

  Diego was right; families laden with carnival prizes were streaming out the gates, pulling bleary-eyed children along in their wake.

  Grace turned to Diego. “Do you have any money?”

  “Some, but not enough for another ticket.”

  “Same here.” Grace kicked the ground in frustration; she couldn’t help but think she was running out of time. How this was her last night in town and the clock was ticking down, first to midnight and to whatever she’d find at the Ferris wheel; but also to tomorrow morning, when her current life, the only life she’d ever known in Clarkville, was ending.

  She had to get back inside the carnival. There was no way she was missing out. She was going to be at the Ferris wheel at midnight, even if that meant sneaking back into the carnival. Maybe they could make a break for it and just run back inside? She stared at the carnie and wondered if she and Diego could outrun him. This late in the night, how long would he spend trying to find two kids?

  A small boy who’d been exiting the carnival with his family lost his grip on a large bag of water he’d been carrying. It plopped to the ground and opened, water splashing everywhere. “My prize goldfish!” he cried.

  Both his parents lunged to the ground to retrieve the beached goldfish and his father cried, “Does anyone have any water?”

  The carnie who’d been guarding the gates had a half-empty water bottle in his hands, and he rushed over to help them.

  “Let’s go!” Grace said, and they sprinted past the gates and into the carnival. They wove their way through the crowd, Diego holding his phone out in front of them like a tracking device. Diego’s friends had taken his request to heart, and they were gleefully texting him the location of their parents as they hunted for Grace and Diego:

  they’re by the Zipper

  Go Diego! Go Grace!

  by the carousel

  they look SO mad

  you guys are dead

  Now they’re checking the snack emporium

  they just walked through the iron gates to check the parking lot

  “I think we’ve got a little time,” Diego said after he’d read the last text aloud, and Grace agreed. The parking lot was a good walk from the iron gates past a windswept field to a large plot of packed dirt.

  “Want to go on a ride?” Diego said. They were passing the Fun Slide; striped in bright shades of primary colors, it looked like a gigantic stick of gum reaching out to grab them. Before Grace could respond, her stomach made another loud, embarrassing gurgle.

  “Still hungry?” he said.

  “Yeah. Starving, actually.” They’d left their bag of popcorn, mostly uneaten, back inside the velvet tent when they’d first run away from their parents.

  “I think we’ve got enough money to split a snack,” Diego said.

  They made their way to the Snack Emporium, where Grace finally tried to buy the funnel cake she’d been hoping for all night.

  But unfortunately, some things just weren’t meant to be.

  “We’re out,” said the carnie manning the stand.

  “Out? How can you be out of funnel cakes?” Grace said.

  He shrugged. “They’re really popular. You should have bought one earlier.”

  They bought a plate of onion rings instead, which Diego carried to a wooden bench near the back of the Snack Emporium. “Dig in,” he said. Grace stared at him while he squirted an enormous amount of ketchup and mustard on thei
r plate and began to eat.

  Grace hated ketchup. And mustard. But tonight, she didn’t care. Sitting across from Diego, sharing a plate of onion rings—it was almost like a date!

  But on a date you were supposed to talk to the other person. She wracked her brain, trying to think of something to say. “Did you catch the Cubs game on Wednesday?” she asked. It had been a spectacular game; they’d been down one run and then tied it up at the bottom of the ninth, then won in overtime. Grace was dying to talk about it with someone—Julia and Erin and Lulu couldn’t care less—and she hoped Diego would be that someone.

  Except he was shaking his head. “I’m not really into baseball,” he said.

  Not “into” baseball? This was extremely disappointing news. And confusing too. Who didn’t like baseball?

  Still, Grace figured no one—not even Diego Martinez—was perfect, so she decided to push on. “Have you been having a good time tonight?” she asked.

  “The best!” he answered, and Grace jerked back slightly. His breath was really oniony.

  “What have you liked so far about it?” Grace winced. Was that a stupid question? Making conversation with the boy you liked was turning out to be hard.

  “The best part is right now,” Diego answered, and Grace’s heart began to pound.

  “It is?” she said.

  “Yeah. It’s like we’re fugitives on the run and—” He broke off and his eyes widened. “Don’t turn around,” he said. “Our parents just walked into the Snack Emporium—I said don’t turn around!”

  “Sorry.” Grace had only briefly glanced over her shoulder, but it was enough to catch a glimpse of her mother’s multicolored hair.

  “Wow,” Diego said. “Your mom looks really mad.”

  “Mad or sad?” Grace asked. Mad, she could handle. But she would feel awful if she’d made her mom sad tonight.

  “Mad.” Diego nodded. “Oh, yeah. Definitely mad.”

  “What should we do?” Grace asked.

  “She’s looking right this way,” Diego said, dropping his gaze quickly.

  Grace tensed. “Do you think she’s seen us?”

  “No—a couple mimes just moved behind you. They’re acting sort of like a shield.”

  Grace was fighting the urge to turn around and look. She knew if she did, her mother would catch sight of her like a tractor beam. Then the night would be over.

  “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” Diego said. “When I say ‘now,’ we’re going to get up and quickly walk the other way.”

  While he continued to watch their parents, Grace slowly swung her legs free of the wooden bench and perched on the edge, waiting.

  “Not yet . . . Not yet . . . Okay, they’re starting to turn away. They’re turning—Now!”

  And they were off, sprinting from the Snack Emporium and deeper into the carnival. Their parents must have seen them, though, because Grace heard pounding footsteps behind her, followed by her mother’s voice yelling, “Grace! Get back here!”

   28

  Harlow

  HERE’S SOMETHING NOBODY KNOWS: LAST October, one day before Halloween and one week before the fire, Ethan asked Harlow to go out with him. She’d been over at the McKinleys’ house—their old one on Hudson Road—and she and Ethan had gotten into a daring match while Audrey and Grace watched a movie with Maddie and Mason. Harlow dared Ethan to sneak into the garage where Mrs. McKinley kept the Halloween candy and steal them some. They ate their share of Snickers bars, and then Ethan dared Harlow to kiss his pet frog, Rodney. After all that chocolate and sugar, the top of Rodney’s head tasted salty.

  After that, they got bored and decided to think up a better dare. Harlow pointed to the huge sycamore tree in the backyard, the one that seemed to stretch all the way up to the clouds, and said, “Dare you to climb all the way to the top.”

  “I dare you,” Ethan had answered. “Last one to the top is a rotten egg!”

  Harlow wasn’t worried; she climbed like a spider monkey, there was no way she’d be the rotten egg.

  As it turned out, no one was a rotten egg. They reached the highest branch at the same time. Standing there, clinging to the top of the tree trunk, the leaves of the sycamore whispering all around them, Ethan said, “Will you go out with me?”

  While Harlow was considering her answer, the back door banged open and Audrey’s voice floated up to them, “Ethan? Harlow? Are you guys out here?”

  Harlow wondered how Audrey would feel if she started going out with her twin brother.

  “Ethan? Harlow?”

  “I’ll think about it,” Harlow had whispered to Ethan.

  But not too long afterward, their families weren’t speaking to each other anymore.

  Harlow hadn’t forgotten that night almost a year ago at the McKinleys. How it felt when she and Ethan stood at the top of the sycamore tree, seemingly suspended in the sky, staring at each other. Maybe that was why, after walking around the carnival for a while, when they came up to the Mirror Maze she said, “Let’s race. First one through the maze wins. Come on, I dare you. I’ve always been faster than you!”

  She was on the tips of her toes, poised and ready to go, but Ethan stood back and stared at her for a long moment. “Always been faster than me?” he repeated. “I’ve got another dare. I dare you to take your mask off.”

  “No,” Harlow said. “Anything but that.”

  “Come on. We both know your name isn’t Jean,” he said. “Is it?”

  Something about the way he said it and the way he was looking at her made her whisper, “No. It’s not.”

  He nodded. “I didn’t think so. So, who are you?”

  Slowly she removed her mask. “Someone you don’t like very much.”

  “I never said I didn’t like you, Harlow.” Ethan didn’t look too surprised to see her.

  They stood staring at each other, the lights of the Mirror Maze flashing above them, until Harlow said, “You stopped talking to me.”

  “No. You stopped talking to me.” Ethan plunged his hands into his pockets. “Nothing’s been the same since last year. Everything feels so messed up.”

  “It does,” Harlow agreed softly. “It really does.”

  At that very moment, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Julia and the other girls—minus Grace and Audrey—approaching. “I can’t believe you got to throw knives at her!” Erin was saying.

  Quickly, Harlow turned away, but it was too late—she’d been spotted.

  “Jean!” Erin called. “Do you want to go through the maze with us?”

  Harlow had her back to them. She was struggling to put her mask back on, but it had snagged on her wig. The girls were only a few feet away—any minute now they’d see her face.

  “I’ve got to go!” she whispered to Ethan.

  She dashed into the maze. The girls followed after her, laughing, thinking it was a game.

  “Jean! We’re coming to get you!”

  Mirror to mirror she fled, but everywhere she looked it was her face reflected back at her. First there were two Harlows. Then four, now eight. Her reflection kept multiplying until it seemed she was being chased by a whole army of Harlows.

  She ran, twisting and turning through the maze as fast as she could, fighting tears. She never should have tried to fool everyone. She saw that now. She’d made a huge mistake. The minute she’d first run into Erin she should have taken off her mask and said, “I’m not from out of town. I’m Harlow.” True, Erin would have slithered away like she’d just crossed paths with a black cat and none of this crazy, wondrous night would have happened. But Harlow also wouldn’t be fleeing now, like a rat literally stuck in a maze—a mirrored one—hoping to elude her pursuers.

  But, she reminded herself, they were just chasing her, thinking it was all in fun. It wasn’t like they were armed with torches and pitchforks.

  Maybe not, but they were armed with their phones, and Harlow didn’t relish the idea of more nasty pictures of her going up online.


  She rounded a corner—and smacked right into her own reflection. She’d reached a dead end. Before she could turn around, the girls were behind her.

  “Hi, Jean . . . ,” Erin said, her voice trailing off as she caught sight of Harlow’s face in the mirror.

  It was like someone flipped a switch. One minute the girls were giddy and smiling. The next they were staring, blank-faced, at Harlow.

  “Harlow,” Julia said. “All this time—that was you?”

  Slowly, Harlow turned around. “Yes,” she said. “It’s me.”

  “Wait, I don’t get it,” Lulu said, frowning. “Jean is really Harlow?”

  Julia wasn’t frowning. She was deathly calm. “You must think we’re idiots,” she said. “I mean, that is why you tried to play such a nasty trick on us, right?”

  “No,” Harlow said quickly. “I don’t think that. And I wasn’t playing a trick on you.”

  “So . . . you didn’t hang out with us all night, pretending to be someone else?”

  “Yes, but it was just a mistake. Erin asked me if I was from out of town—”

  “Oh, so now this is my fault?” Erin said.

  “No! I just thought it might be nice to spend time with you guys.”

  “Spying on us, you mean?” Erin said. The three of them were coming closer, forming a half circle around Harlow.

  “No! I just missed everyone,” Harlow said. She backed up a couple steps and felt the mirror press against her back. “I wasn’t trying to spy on anyone, I swear.” She turned to Julia. “I just wanted to hang out. You have to believe me. I was serious; I really did want to help you do a sleepover since your party was canceled. I just wanted things to be like how they used to—”

  “Wait,” Lulu interrupted. “Julia—your party is canceled?”

  Another switch flipped. Erin and Lulu weren’t looking at Harlow anymore. They were staring at Julia . . . and Harlow understood she’d just made a serious mistake. One that was much bigger than dressing up and pretending to be someone else.