Wonderland

by Jennifer Hillier

  Yours sincerely,

  Nick Bishop

  Owner, Wonderland Amusement Park, Inc.

  ELEVEN

  Ava Castro’s purple uniform shirt was ill fitting and about a size too big, which hid what little boobage she had. She wondered if she could shrink it by washing it in very hot water, because she wasn’t crazy about the idea of spending ten bucks for a new one in a smaller size.

  Assuming she was still allowed to work at Wonderland, that was. Her mother, annoying on a good day, had completely lost her marbles this morning, and it was all Ava could do to keep her cool. If she had any propensity toward violence and hadn’t been taught the difference between right and wrong, she would be happily stabbing her mom with a pitchfork right now.

  “But you were the one who told me to apply at Wonderland,” she said to her mother, not even trying to keep the exasperation out of her voice. She knew she was crowding the already tiny space in her mom’s en suite bathroom, but at least the woman had her own bathroom. Ava was forced to share hers with John-John, who couldn’t aim for the toilet to save his life. “You were the one who got me all excited about it, and now you’re telling me to quit? I haven’t even started.”

  “I’m sure you can find something else.” Her mother met her gaze in the bathroom mirror. She was blow-drying her hair, and the wind intermittently hit Ava in the face. “You’re a great swimmer. Maybe the beach is hiring lifeguards. Or the YMCA.”

  “You have to be fifteen to be a lifeguard. And even if I was old enough, I wouldn’t want to spend all summer at the YMCA. I want to work at Wonderland because there are a lot of opportunities there.” Ava placed her hands on her hips and glared at her mother. How could her mom be the deputy chief of an entire police department, and yet be so dumb? “I don’t get this. I told you I wanted to spend the summer with Grandma. Where my friends are. But no, you said I had to come to Seaside as soon as school was done, and that I should work at Wonderland. That’s what you said.”

  “I know I did, but—”

  “Is this because of that dead homeless guy?”

  Her mom sighed and turned around. “Maybe.”

  “Mom.” Ava took a breath and forced herself to speak calmly, even though her mother was a pro at driving her batshit. “Nothing is going to happen to me at Wonderland. There’s, like, a thousand people that work there, and a ton more that visit, and I’m never going to be alone. Nobody’s going to kill me and leave my body in the midway. And I’m also not the type to do something stupid like climb the Wonder Wheel and take a selfie with my arms up in the air.”

  “You saw that picture?”

  “I saw both pics, but that’s not the point. They’ve got me assigned to a hot dog cart in the midway. What bad thing could possibly happen from making hot dogs?”

  “You could singe your eyebrows.”

  It was a joke, but Ava refused to laugh. “It’s a good job. You should know, you worked there. It was, like, a century ago, but you did.”

  “Hey, now.” Her mother yanked a brush through her hair and winced as she hit a snarl. She always brushed her hair too hard when she was rushing. “I’m just worried, okay? It’s a strange case, and I’m hearing all kinds of weird things about the park.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like there’s a security guard who does inappropriate things.”

  “Then I’ll make sure I stay away from the security guards.”

  “And what if that dead guy was killed by somebody at Wonderland?” Her mom turned to face her. “The killer could be working at the park right now.”

  “Then you’ll figure out who it is and lock them up.” Ava stepped forward and placed a hand on her mother’s arm. “Because that’s what you do. But anyplace I go will have its dangers. I could work at, like, Target, and have a boss who’s a rapist. Or I start school in September and some messed-up kid in my class brings a gun to school and shoots everybody and we’re all dead.”

  “Ava! Don’t say that.”

  “But it could happen. You can’t protect me from everything, or everyone. That’s life, Mom. Remember what you said to me after Dad died?”

  “No,” her mom said, her face softening. “What did I say?”

  “You said that life goes on.” Ava attempted a smile she didn’t totally feel, but she sensed she was winning this argument, not that there should have even been one in the first place. “You said that shitty things happen, and that it’s nobody’s fault.”

  “I guess I did say that,” her mom said. “And don’t say shitty.”

  “But you still carry a gun,” Ava continued, pointing at the holster at her mom’s hip. It was empty. Her mom kept her gun locked in the safe, and she never took it out until she was ready to leave for work. “Because it’s your job, right? Well, Wonderland is my job now. And if we don’t leave in the next three minutes, I’m going to be late for my first day. It’s only an orientation session, but still.”

  “I guess we are.” Her mother looked at her watch. “Okay, smarty-pants. You’ve made some valid points. Let’s get moving. John-John!” she called out to Ava’s seven-year-old brother, who was still in their bathroom.

  Five minutes later, all three were in the car, with John-John in the backseat and Ava riding shotgun. Ava was getting dropped off at Wonderland first, and then her brother would be dropped off at day camp before her mom went off to work. It seemed like as good a time as any to bring up the thing she’d been thinking about for the past week.

  “So, remember that concert I told you about last week?” Ava said.

  “Which one?” Her mom sounded distracted as she made a left turn. A kid on a bike darted through the intersection at the last second and she braked hard, swearing under her breath.

  “The one in Portland,” Ava said. “The one McKenzie got tickets to. One Direction. Remember?”

  “I thought I said no to that.” Her mother glanced over at her. “Didn’t I?”

  “You said you’d think about it.”

  “Well, I thought about it and the answer is no.”

  “But it’s just Portland,” Ava said, trying not to sound exasperated. “You let me go to Whistler on a ski trip with McKenzie last year. And that was Canada.”

  “That was totally different. You went with McKenzie’s parents. I don’t trust McKenzie’s sister to drive you to Portland. It’s way too far and she’s only eighteen.”

  “It’s three and a half hours. Three if Elana drives fast.”

  “And driving fast is supposed to convince me?”

  Ava slumped in her seat. The only thing worse than not going to the concert would be seeing all the pictures McKenzie would be posting on Facebook and Instagram, none of which she’d be in. That was so not okay.

  “Let Avie go, Mom,” John-John said from the backseat, and Ava turned around and gave her little brother a smile. “Apparently it’s very important to her.”

  “Why didn’t you see the band when we were in Seattle?” her mother asked. “Didn’t they play Key Arena? That would have been fifteen minutes from our house.”

  Was she being serious right now? Ava shot her mother a look. “I wanted to, remember? We had tickets.”

  “Then why didn’t you go? I would have been okay with that.”

  “It was the weekend of Dad’s funeral. I couldn’t go, so McKenzie didn’t, either.”

  Her mom sucked in a breath, as Ava knew she would. She felt a small stab of triumph.

  Pulling up to a stoplight, her mother turned to her. “Ava, I’m sorry. I forgot.” Her face suddenly brightened. “But hey, here’s an idea. Why don’t I take you girls? We’ll make a weekend out of it. I’ll even book us a hotel, wouldn’t that be fun? Concert on Saturday, and then shopping on Sunday. No sales tax in Oregon. I’ll ask Grandma to come down and stay with John-John. What do you say?”

  Ava stared at her. This was u
nbelievable. The woman didn’t understand her at all, nor did she even seem to want to. First, her mother practically forced her to get a job at Wonderland. Then, she tried to force her not to work there. Now her mother was telling her she wasn’t allowed to go to a concert that she’d already been permitted to go to unless she came, too?

  “I don’t want to go with you. Don’t you get that?” Ava’s voice was loud in the small car, but she didn’t care. “This concert’s a big deal to me, and yet somehow it’s always about you. We moved here because you wanted to come here. You think I want to live in this stupid little town?”

  “Ava—”

  “You think I like the fact that I have to start high school in September with a bunch of people I don’t know? I’ve had the same friends since I was in kindergarten and now they’re all going to the same high school without me. You think I like being pulled away from the house I grew up in, and all my friends, because you want to move, because you fucked up at your job and so you have to get out of Seattle?” Ava was in full shriek mode, and so angry she was spitting. “You’re the reason Dad got drunk that night! You’re the reason he’s not with us anymore! You’re the one who was having an affair—”

  Her mother slapped her. Ava didn’t see it coming, and the sound registered before the sting did. Immediately, she put a hand to her cheek, which burned. She stared at her mother, unable to speak. Did that really just happen? Did her mother just hit her?

  Her mother had never slapped her before. Not ever. Not knowing what else to do, and more from shock and a bruised sense of self-righteousness than anything else, Ava burst into tears.

  In the backseat, John-John started crying, too.

  Her mother clapped a hand to her mouth, staring at her in disbelief. Behind them, a car honked. The light had changed. As if in a trance, her mother drove slowly through the intersection, then pulled into the parking lot of a Taco Time and cut the engine.

  “Ava, I’m so sorry,” her mother said with wide eyes. “I didn’t mean to slap you, and I’m very sorry that I did. It’s just . . . the things you said . . . you can’t speak to me like that, Ava. No matter what, I am your mother, and you cannot speak to me that way, do you understand?”

  Ava clutched her knapsack. “What I understand is that I hate you. And I’ll walk to work if it means I don’t have to spend another second with you.”

  She got out of the car and slammed the door as hard as she could. She heard John-John shriek from inside the car, then heard him call, “Avie! Come back!”

  She didn’t care. She started walking toward Wonderland, which was easily visible and about a mile away. She forced herself not to look back.

  • • •

  A man drove up to the entrance of the park in a shiny purple Wonderland golf cart, stopping directly in front of the main entrance gates. Stepping out, he turned to the camera with a smile. Dressed neatly in a purple Wonderland golf shirt and pressed khaki slacks, he looked every inch the ideal Wonderland employee. The camera zoomed in on his face, where a row of perfect white teeth gleamed against his summer tan. Then the camera zoomed out, capturing the WELCOME TO WONDERLAND sign above his head. The sound crackled. They were watching this orientation video on VHS, not DVD, and the quality was terrible.

  “Hi, there!” The man on the TV screen gave a cheerful wave as the camera zoomed in closer again. “I’m Nick Bishop, owner of Wonderland. If you’re watching this video, it’s because you’ve just joined our team of dedicated Wonder Workers. Welcome! I’m so happy you’ve decided to become part of the Wonderland family, and we’re going to have a great summer together. If you’re watching this with other Wonder Workers, take a moment to say hello and introduce yourself. Don’t be shy! Remember, your enthusiasm and friendliness are why we hired you.”

  The boy beside Ava stifled a laugh. They’d already been introduced by one of the supervisors earlier, and it was just the two of them now, sitting in a little room on the second floor of the administrative building. He was new, too, and so far Ava only knew two things about him—his name was Xander Cameron, and he was hot. Or OMG HAWT!!! as she’d texted McKenzie the minute the supervisor had left them alone. She was guessing he was at least seventeen. Maybe even eighteen. Which made him practically a man.

  Xander was sitting on the chair a few feet away from hers, slouched down, his long legs stretched out in front of him. Ava wondered if she’d somehow be able to take a picture of him with her cell phone without him noticing so she could send it to McKenzie, but she’d have to wait until he was totally engrossed in the orientation video. Which, by his reaction, was likely not going to happen.

  “This is so lame,” he said, rolling his eyes.

  “So lame,” Ava agreed, though she likely would have agreed with anything he said.

  “This video was probably made before I was born,” he said. “As was this uniform.”

  Ava laughed, although secretly she thought he looked pretty damned good in purple. His shirt fit him perfectly. She’d been forced to tuck hers in quite a bit, which made it look even less flattering.

  “We’ll be here for about three hours,” Ava said. “We have to watch all three videos.”

  “Oh god,” Xander said, rolling his eyes again. “Are they going to test us on them? Because if not, I say we sneak out and go get some ice cream in the midway.”

  Was he kidding? She couldn’t tell, and she panicked a little. If he was serious, what should she do? It would be totally lame to stay behind and watch the stupid videos by herself, and have Xander think she was being a baby for not sneaking out. But if she went with him to get ice cream, then for sure they’d get in trouble, and she definitely didn’t want to get fired before she’d even started. Not after the fight she’d just had with her mom about it.

  “I’m kidding,” he said. “With our luck, we’d get nailed and end up on garbage duty. My friend Ryan worked here last summer and he was late three shifts in a row. They put him on garbage duty for two weeks. Like, all he did was push this massive cart up and down the park, filling it with trash from the bins.”

  “That’s awful,” Ava said, relieved that he’d just been joking.

  “Yeah, that’s a shit gig.” He reached his arms over his head and stretched. The front of his shirt pulled up to reveal an inch of flat stomach, and Ava couldn’t help but stare at it, her face growing hot. “Who did you interview with?”

  “I did my interview back in March during the hiring fair.” Ava tried to speak normally, though he made her nervous. “Via Skype, since I was living in Seattle then. It was with one of the managers, but I forget her name now.”

  “I was supposed to have my interview with Scottie Pile, the games manager. But he wasn’t here the other day when I showed up, so the CEO herself interviewed me. She turned out to be pretty nice.” Xander stifled a yawn. “So did you get the email about the uniform thing? I’m guessing the park is pissed that there’s a picture going around of someone desecrating the sacred purple shirt by flipping the bird.”

  “I read it this morning.” Ava was glad they had something to talk about. “And I actually thought the pic was pretty cool. But yeah, Wonderland probably wasn’t thrilled. For sure he’s fired.”

  “Yeah, and then they found that homeless guy? Too much bad press,” Xander said. “Anyway, the Wonder Wheel Kid is a friend of my buddy’s. I’ll probably end up hanging out with him at some point this summer. I heard he’s a good guy. Where did you get assigned?”

  “Food services. Hot dog cart in the midway.”

  “Bum gig.” Xander gave her a sympathetic look. “I got games. Hoop Shot.”

  “How’d you swing that?” Ava couldn’t conceal her envy. “That’s, like, the best games gig in the park.”

  He shrugged. “I said in my interview I was hoping to get games crew and it happened. Just lucky, I guess. I’m glad because I need to save up for college. University of Miami
in the fall. You?”

  “I . . .” Ava wanted so badly to lie to him and tell him she was older, but there was no point. “I’ll be here. I start Seaside Academy in September.”

  “Is that a college?”

  “No, it’s a high school.”

  Xander frowned. “How old are you?”

  “Fourteen. And a half,” she added, as if that made a difference. “My birthday was in January.”

  “Shit, I thought you were older,” he said with a grin, and she blushed. Of course he meant it as a compliment. “You could easily pass for sixteen.”

  “I get that a lot,” she said, beaming. “I was hoping to get assigned to one of the Elm Street gigs since I’ll be working here year-round, but they’re hard to get into. I’d love to work on Elm Street for Halloween season and Fear Fest.”

  “I heard you have to be at least sixteen,” Xander said. “Because the exhibits are scary and stuff.”

  “Hopefully in a couple years.”

  They turned their attention back to the video where Nick Bishop was now taking them on a tour of the midway. Ava’s mind wandered back to the last time she’d been to that part of the park. Her dad had been alive then, because it was only last summer, and he’d died over the Christmas holidays, two weeks before Ava turned fourteen. The One Direction concert in Seattle was supposed to have been part of her birthday celebration, which obviously her mother had forgotten about.

  It’s funny how his death was the dividing line for everything. Ava could almost see it in her head; it was like there was this thick black line that separated everything that happened before December 24, and everything that came after. Before and after. Pre and post. Then and now. Old life and new life.

  Her dad had been the strongest man she knew. Major John Castro, U.S. Army, retired. Three tours, one in Iraq, two in Afghanistan. The last one had changed him. He’d come back so . . . different. He’d come home, but his mind had stayed far away. Ava had only been twelve years old then, but she’d sensed the change even though she couldn’t articulate it. Her mom described it as being “in a funk,” something she assured her daughter would pass, but Ava knew now that the real term was post-traumatic stress disorder.