A white-light adorned Ferris wheel loomed behind their wooden bench. The lights pulsed from the center out then circled the colossal steel wheel. Loading, slowly, a suave couple of lovebirds led the way. They’d boarded first, followed by a quarter section of squirmy spitting kids. The goober rain made both Nanny and Amy look up simultaneously. The young girl who sat with her letterman boyfriend met Amy’s glance, and disregarding the spit monetarily, they exchanged a friendly pressed smile. Then, Amy evil-eyed the jokers dangling behind them. Her stare was so powerful they turned—and started spitting the other way.
Directly across the stomped grassy ground was the entrance to: Dream Dragon the colossal coaster. Its compressed line of anxiously waiting daredevils extended past the food section. To their right were gaming booths and food vendors. And left, paths led to more imagination-tickling rides. To Amy it was titillating torture, a thrilling wonderland which she wanted to immerse herself in. She wanted to have fun with the DC’s, not kill them. It would be nice to make friends with that nice girl and her boyfriend, she thought. And she wished she’d known about the State Fair map earlier.
Nanny and her normal lending partner Fran, younger by nine, never generated many DC’s. Things were usually quiet with no more than eight or so appearing at once, fifteen on a great day, usually in a group that clung together. Unlike Flyin’ Fran, her opposite, Nanny loved the fair, and staying grounded, and chose it often because it reminded her of her childhood so long ago.
“I gotta ride some of these,” Amy said reaching for the black bag under their seat. “It’s really too bad we have to—”
“Uh uh uh,” Nanny said waving a crooked finger. “We don’t use the bag here, Fran and I,” Nanny said. “And I’m not about to start now. You’ll have to be a little more creative than that while in my company dearie. Might I start first to give you an idea?”
“Uh, okay sure Nanny. You do know they’re not real though?”
“Of course I do sweetie,” Nanny said. “But I just don’t like all the violence. At my age I like to keep things as peaceful as possible. There are quite a bit of people here though. Fran and I usually only have a few to get rid of, then we relax and enjoy the rest of our day.”
“Ride the rides!?” Amy elated.
“Yes, but of course. I might be old but I’m not dead.” Nanny chuckled. Then she looked around. “My my there really is a lot of them isn’t there.”
“So we might actually need to use the bag in this case?” Amy asked curiously.
“Nope. Watch and learn young one. Watch and learn.” Nanny tilted to the side onto one butt cheek and her face got really red. She puffed her cheeks and pushed. “FFFRRRRBBBT! FFFeeeRRRRBBBeeeT! FFFRRRRBBBT…eeek!” Nanny let out the loudest fart Amy had ever heard. It was more massive than any of the ones her daddy Jerry used to let out, and his were Brobdingnagian blasts. Most everyone at the fair heard it. Amy was taken aback by how loud it was, amplified-like, and a moment later, the stench set in. She was about to talk, tell Nanny GROSS or WHAT IN THE—then the turmoil began.
“Oh, gawd!” yelled a woman contemptuously and picked up her two young children and disappeared in the opposite direction. People scattered left and right and amazingly the fair emptied by at least half.
Amy burst out laughing but took in a mouthful: rotten eggs and road kill in one drowning gulp. It expunged her exuberance, forthwith, and she covered her nose using her shirt and hands, but the fart had already lodged itself onto her tongue—among other senses. She not only could taste the smell; it was so bad she saw it. Everything had a green tint and even her hearing went dull. She couldn't take it any longer. She got up and ran with the scattering-buffalo crowd. She stopped near the candy apple stand and barfed, and kept spitting into the grass for a good five minutes. Her nose was running and her eyes were watering—it was worse than tear gas, or any type of gas.
Finally the haze cleared a bit and Amy yelled from the other side, “Jeez Nanny warn me next time, would ya! Yuh-uk!”
Nanny’s body bounced as she chuckled. She was the only one not holding her nose; she just sat there with a devilish grin. Amy composed herself then noticed how much the fair had cleared. And her sight became clear. A good ten minutes later she was finally able to join Nanny in a laugh, from afar. Nanny, face still red, had a wheezy laugh and you could tell she got a kick out of the surprise because she couldn’t stop once she got started. Amy knew it was all part of the plan, and she knew it had worked for she could sense the drain. She could feel the output seeping away, sponged by the system. She was getting a feel for many things, many things that she now knew couldn’t be explained—things that have to be learned, by experience. Getting rid of them, it’s about making them disappear suddenly—one way or another… Nanny sure is going to be fun to be around, she thought. But really gross.
“Come on over here honey,” Nanny said. “I promise I won’t let any more farts loose. It’s been a long time since I’ve had anyone except Fran in here with me. That was like the one she planted on me shortly after we’d met.”
“But how did you make it so—”
“You learn things, after doing it for so long,” Nanny said. “I think you have already learned quite a bit. I saw your eyes with the spitting kids. My advice, don’t hold yourself back. Now—how about let’s see what you’ve got. And remember no violence—” With her heel she kicked the black bag back further under the bench. “—just be creative.”
Amy thought for a few while feeling her chin, like Ted always does. It wasn’t long before an idea bounced into her head. There were only half as many people since the fart but more were already arriving. Amy reached down for the bag.
Nanny goalied her, sending her legs to the left like two prison bars. “Uh uh dearie,” she said slowly. “Remember what I said.” She waved a tick-tock finger.
“Trust me Nanny. I’m not even gonna open it,” Amy said. Nanny tilted her head diagonally, and relented with a flat smile and a breath of trust. She moved her legs aside and let Amy grab the bag.
Amy noticed a security guard far to Nanny’s left, near to the Merry-Go-Round entrance. “Okay, here goes,” she said. Nanny was getting antsy with her and the bag when suddenly Amy leapt forward screaming.
“Bomb! There’s a bomb in the bag! Bomb! Bomb! It’s a bomb!”
Catching on fast, as always, Amy used the same trick Nanny had used. Her voice was amplified, more so than the fart even, and everyone in the park heard it. Nanny knew right away, this one is special. She could feel the urgency in the screams as Amy took off running with the bag, holding it out in front of her. Her screams weighed heavy with emotion: fear and panic infected every DC in the park. The screams instigated a virulent pandemic. Panic reverberated throughout. Screams overlapped: “Run for your lives!”, “Save yourself!”, and “Fuck this I’m outta here.”
The trembling security guard radioed in the threat while getting bumped side to side by the stampede. People jetted by in every direction. Compared to the green gas Nanny had ejected, it was at least twice as effective. Amy really put her essence into the screams, and sent fear deep into the—if there was such a thing—souls of the DC’s.
The guard was overwhelmed with people passing him by as he attempted to make his way a little bit closer. By the look on his face he really didn’t know what to do. And Amy just kept on, “There’s a BOMB in there! Bomb! It’s gonna blow! 15 seconds!”
The ride operator pulled back on the lever stopping the Ferris wheel before running away to save his own life. The spitters, probably having had much practice on the jungle gym, were already monkeying down the bars, successfully, and leapt away to safely. Getting stuck at 10 o'clock the lovebirds remained, but were immediately attempting to climb down. Letterman went first then next his gal. He stepped out onto the beam in front of their carriage. It was clear he wanted to reach the safety ladder at the wheels center. He descended the beam, sidestepping, and his brunette girlfriend did the same behind him. They stepped over the la
rge flashing bulbs. Almost there.
Amy stopped screaming. The park was just about empty, except for the two, and she hoped, for reasons she didn’t know or understand, they’d make it down safely.
Letterman grabbed the bars at the joint. But it was tainted with black grease. It was slick at his next step too, slightly, but just enough. His foot slipped on the bar. He had one oiled hand on the bar above, and the other in the grip of his love. The first held for two seconds, the second was a clammy last touch. Fingers departed to the very last tips.
Thud, clonk, thud, ding. His body somersaulted clockwise end over end, then, after taking a bar to the back, his yelling ceased. A rippling back crack echoed through the steel. He folded more than was healthy, floated for a second then slid feet first spinning the other way. He descended pounding cables and pipes—a human pinball. He probably didn’t feel the end, but it was enough for Nanny. Landing vertically his ride finished with double smack—hard pop neck, loud crack skull. Nanny cringed. She didn’t like any of that. If only Fran was here to see this shit, she thought.
Splayed like an X and trembling, his newly acrophobic girlfriend gasped. She gagged for air like a deflated blowfish, until her palpitating lungs finally got traction. She let out a tear-gurgling, mucus-blasting scream. She still possessed the fear Amy had instilled so deeply but attempted to climb back into the carriage, which was closer, plus she knew of the grease. Regaining a sliver of composure she made attempt.
Amy felt bad. This was all knew to her. With the other lenders she’d always done things in such a linear fashion. This time it was something new. Nanny’s advanced tricks. And she truly felt sorrow this time, and wanted to take it back. She’d instilled the fear so powerfully, so deadly…
But it was just too unbalanced. On the outside, pushing down, it tipped unstably wobbling her teetering feet. The heavy carriage she’d sat in with her love, so happily just moments ago; it swayed downward as she grabbed it then bobbed upward stealing her balance. She fumbled, her muscles tensed, her teeth clenched, and her flooded eyes went round. Her last thrill ride. Except for a scathing knock to the back of the head she missed the bars, luckily perhaps, in one futile perspective. The landing was brutal, more of a mushy crunch. Both Amy and Nanny turned away.
Nanny was watching this with her head cocked up backwards from the bench. She wasn’t quite happy with the result; Amy’s plan. But the fair had been cleared out, and really, as she thought about it, was almost never happy with Fran’s plans either. Even the security guard had timorously retreated after Amy’s second vociferation. The fair, was empty.
“We’ll that surely did it,” Nanny said, feeling quite a bit of the drain. “But a little reckless for my taste.” Sitting there, she slouched, and sighed. She opened her purse and pulled out a little tin. It held a few cigarettes and a lighter. “Care for a smoke dear?” And she lit one. “Job well done. I’d say that is quite creative. But, you did still use the bag.”
“Ha Ha Ha,” Amy said slowly and smart-alecky. “Nanny, it counts.” And Amy shrugged as Nanny held the smoke outward. “No thanks on the cigarette, yuk, but I think I’ll have a candy apple.” She ran over to the booth and stole the largest ones she could. They were covered in several layers of chocolate and caramel and measled with chunky over-sized sprinkles. She skipped back to the bench which now had some dicey shade from the Ferris wheel. They both sat back and relaxed for a while recuperating from the drain. Amy noticed the feeling and made a mental comparison. It was at least half as effective as outright killing. But nevertheless, she knew, a pretty decent day. Nanny enjoyed her menthol and Amy ate two Candy apples and even drank a state-fair-sized soda.
Time passed and Nanny got up from the bench for the first time since—madness. She was hunched over, and looked tired.
Amy had been blazin’ to go an hour ago, but waited—patiently because of the delights. She had helped herself to more edibles: a pizza and hot dogs, cotton candy, and some fries and fried gobs of cream pies and pickles, and another huge soda to wash it all down. She’d entertained herself, messing around in the empty food stand making all sorts of concoctions while Nanny rested.
“Sure, what’s next? Another session?” Amy asked. “We usually do at least two, Jim and I did three once.”
Walking over slowly Nanny replied, “That’s more than I do in a week sweetie. I think we’re good for the day. Let’s have some fun and talk a little. I feel better now. How about a race to the bumper cars?”
“Sure. Where are they?” Amy replied running to meet her before she’d gotten more than a few feet.
“This row,” She pointed left, “all the way to the end then veer a little right.” Nanny was already fastening her purse then tossed it around her shoulder and onto her back. She had half a smoke left and clamped it to the side of her mouth. She turned her old ladies hat, flowers facing back, and pulled it tight onto her head forcing her bun further onto her neck.
“Okay, but I’m gonna win for sure,” Amy said, and took her stance too, like an athlete. The place had filled with a meager amount of DC’s. Things were finally getting back to normal. Bystanders were watching, seated a bench over. They whipped out their phones and started recording the weird event: eighty versus eighteen. Nanny kicked the dirt path like a rodeo bull then started the countdown, “Ready… Set… Go!”
Amy took off a running as fast as her skinny legs could carry her,. She was way in front of Nanny. “Ha ha, you can’t beat me.”
Nanny didn’t sweat it and shifted into second gear, then third. In a raspy voice shifting noises fluttered past thin lips on one side of her mouth; the other held her fag; its ember glowed red-hot against a wall of winning air.
“What!?” Amy exclaimed.
Nanny shifted into her fourth and final gear and sped past Amy who was giving it all she had. Frictionlessly her skinny legs sliced the air as if it was outer space, but that didn’t buy her an advantage. The path became invisible, obscured by Nanny’s dust, which Amy was eating.
Nanny sat on the bench in front of the bumper cars. She had reversed her flowery hat to face forward. A final victory drag on the fag and she flicked it like a basketball champ, right onto a fifty gallon drum of trash ten feet away.
Arms waving, panting Amy emerged from the dust cloud coughing. “Dang Nanny!” she said imitating some anger. She coughed some more. “How’d—” Cough, cough. “—you do that? You literally—smoked me!” Amy patted herself down with open ears. She had to hear this. How in the world can an old lady could go so fast?
“Let’s ride the bumper cars, then I’ll tell ya. We have a lot of time left today.”
Nanny had to teach Amy how to drive the pillow-wheeled car, but she caught on quickly and gave her some pay-back for the race. After that they rode the Gravity Magnifier 5000, the Sinister Swing, toured the Freak Show, and enjoyed a live rock concert for a bit. Then, they rode just about every other ride too. Eventually the dream scene had rebuilt itself enough and the Ferris wheel reopened, but Amy declined. The accident sent shivers into her spine—something about the girl and their mutual gaze. So, they settled on a cotton candy each, and sat down to talk for what was left of the day. And once again, there were people everywhere, more than Nanny had ever seen.
“So, are ya gonna tell me?” Amy asked. “How did you beat me in that race? You must of been going a hundred miles an hour.”
“There’s one thing you can’t forget little Amy,” Nanny started. “It is a dream world, and although the software that runs this place has some sort of built in stabilizer—it will never, ever, be as powerful as your mind. You might find as time goes on you will be able to change a few things, and who knows—the sky really is the limit as far as your imagination is concerned.”
“So you added a little imagination and changed the rules,” Amy said. Her mind frivolously wandered. “And ya look a little older outside Nanny, but here, you aren’t. You’re younger in the dream. Can you show me how to do that too? How old are you Nanny?”
“My dearie no, a young woman never reveals her age,” Nanny smiled. “In time, you’ll learn. Just use your imagination—it’s everything—it is the whole universe sweetie, and beyond, more powerful than any of us can know. For our race, I simply imagined I was driving a race car, and for a moment, in my mind I was. I believed it, through to the bone. The belief will take your power to new heights, and make the magic happen. I’m sure you’ve felt it already. Yes, I’ve been watching you. Don’t be afraid to fuse emotions to your creativity and desires. Faith is an emotion too my dear—the most powerful one.”
“Ah, thank you Nanny. I’m really going to practice,” Amy said. She was visibly intrigued by the words of wisdom Nanny had offered—then, had a terrible thought. “Nanny—what will happen after our…” Amy realized that she was quite old and reverting her DNA might make her physical life difficult, or worse, make her much older than she is now.
Amy choked up, and Nanny knew right off what she’d meant. “Amy, I’ve had a good long life, and yes, after the cleansing I did appear younger, and was cured of many ailments. I know our time together will change me but—I’m ready to dream again. I want to feel alive like I did before, even if I will be older looking. I’m almost 90 years old. The modifications made me look like I was in my 50’s again and I loved it at first, but noticed soon after what I had sacrificed. I assume much of the world knew it too, but most didn’t talk about it, most didn’t care. The fountain of youth will do that to people you know. People can be very superficial, reluctant to step aside and let others have a turn in the world. Many will sacrifice almost anything to look beautiful, stay young, or beat disease. Amy—when it’s time, it’s time. And I’ve learned to accept that.”
Lenders Page 28