Her parents exchanged a quick glance. Candace wasn’t sure what it meant, but she didn’t feel like speculating. “It’s okay, we’ll be downstairs.”
“It’s Josh?” her dad asked.
“Yes.”
“That’s fine,” her mom said. “Josh is a very nice young man.” She reached for her robe.
“I said you don’t have to stay up,” Candace said. “I don’t want you to have to miss work in the morning.”
“I won’t be up long. I’ll just make you and Josh some cocoa.”
“Thanks,” Candace said. Cocoa sounded good, and she was too tired to argue. She followed her mom downstairs.
“Good evening, Josh,” she said.
“Good evening Mrs. Thompson,” Josh said, rising from the couch. “I’m sorry to disturb you like this.”
“Nonsense. I’m just grateful you brought Candace home and have volunteered to keep her up all night.”
“It was no trouble.”
“Have you had a chance to call your parents yet?”
“I called them and let them know where I was going to be while I waited for the nurse to release Candace.”
“Good. Come into the kitchen. I’ll make us all some cocoa.”
They sipped hot cocoa and talked for half an hour before Candace’s mom excused herself. “You’re sure you don’t need me?” she asked one last time as she started up the stairs.
“No, we’ll be fine,” Candace said, moving with Josh into the living room and sinking wearily onto the couch.
Josh sat beside her, and she looked at him for a minute. “What shall we talk about?” she asked.
“I heard from my brother, James, this morning,” he said.
“I didn’t know you had a brother. Where is he?”
“Iraq.”
Candace felt suddenly much more awake. “Is he okay?”
Josh nodded. “He’s due to get out in a few weeks. It looks like he’s going to make it home just in time for Christmas.”
“That’s wonderful!” Candace said.
“Yeah, we’re all pretty excited. Mom and Dad are already planning a big coming-home party for him.”
“So he must be a few years older.”
“He’s five years older. He breezed through college in just under three years and immediately signed up to serve two years.”
“Wow!”
“Yeah. He’s an overachiever. Kinda runs in the family.”
Candace smiled. “So, what’s he going to do now?”
“Looks like he’s going to work with Dad.”
“How about you? What are your plans?”
“Long-term or short-term?” he asked.
“For college.”
“I’m pretty sure I’m going to go to Florida Coast.”
“What are you going to major in?”
“That I haven’t decided yet. I’m thinking of going in as undeclared. I want to sample a little bit of everything before I make a decision.”
“No family business for you?”
He shrugged. “Maybe. How about you? Where are you looking at going?”
“I was thinking I’d apply to Cal State.”
“Planning on staying at home?”
She nodded.
“That’s cool. And your major? What do you want to be when you grow up?”
“Grown up.”
“Smart aleck.”
She smiled. “Seriously? I haven’t a clue. I mean, not at all.”
“I think you’d be a terrific Game Master.”
“Please.”
“No, seriously. I still think your Balloon Races is an awesome idea.”
“And I think you’re the one with the concussion.”
“Yeah, that’s it. You should think about it though. You don’t know what you want to do anyway.”
“Okay. I’ll think about it if we can change the subject,” she said. “I have a concussion, I want to be amused. This is too much heavy thinking.”
“Deal. Now, how can I entertain you?”
“Tell me another secret,” she said.
“Sorry. You already know the only one I have. Careful, though, or I’ll make you tell me another one.”
Candace was sitting in the nurse’s office at The Zone on Tuesday afternoon, having just finished her follow-up for the concussion. She was staring at Martha, her supervisor from the summer, who was filling out some forms the nurse had handed her after examining Candace. Martha was a wise older woman with lively eyes and a gravelly voice. She had stuck by Candace through the hard times over the summer, and Candace had been relieved to see her in the nurse’s office until Martha had delivered the news.
“Why am I being taken out of the maze?” Candace asked indignantly. “I didn’t do anything wrong. It wasn’t my fault the board was loose.”
“I know that, Candace,” Martha said with a heavy sigh. “It’s policy, though, that if someone gets seriously injured, they are moved to a different position for four weeks until a full investigation has been done and the nurse clears the injured person to return to her previous duties.”
“But, this is Scare. Four weeks and the whole thing will be over with.”
“I know.”
“So that’s it. I’m not going to be working Scare at all?”
“I didn’t say that. We do have a position we’d like to move you to.”
“What?” Candace asked.
“We need a candy corn vendor.”
“You have got to be kidding me.”
“Wish I was,” Martha said with a sigh.
“I’m going to be back on cart detail?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t I have any other options?”
“Not unless you want to quit. I wouldn’t blame you by the way.”
Candace was stunned. After everything that had happened, she was going to end up as a cart vendor again. She briefly thought about quitting, but she had committed to working Scare and she wanted to do that.
“Okay. Tell me when and where,” Candace said with a sigh.
“You’ll only work Scare nights. Same hours as before. You can pick up your cart in the cart storage area before the park opens. You can start Thursday.”
On Wednesday Candace waited in the office for her appointment with the guidance counselor, Mr. Anderson. She was glad to have a distraction from the drama that was The Zone. She wasn’t looking forward to returning to cart duty the next night.
She glanced down at the paper in her hand. She had with her a list of questions she wanted to ask Mr. Anderson about colleges and majors. She was a little nervous, but mostly excited. Going to college was going to be cool, something new and exciting. She was looking forward to it, even though she still didn’t know where she wanted to go or what she wanted to do once she got there.
“Miss Thompson, you can go in now,” the secretary said.
Candace stood and crossed to Mr. Anderson’s office door. She opened it, carefully closed it all the way behind her, and then sat down across the desk from him. Mr. Anderson was a stern-looking man in his fifties with dark hair that was gray at the sides. Candace had seen him around campus frequently, but this was the first opportunity they’d had to formally meet.
“Candace Thompson?” he asked, shuffling a folder to the top of the stack in front of him.
“Yes,” she said. “Pleased to meet you,” she added for good measure.
He smiled briefly. “And you. I am, of course, Mr. Anderson, the guidance counselor.”
He flipped open the folder, looked at the paper on top, and then leaned back in his chair and regarded her with a level gaze. “So, tell me, Candace. What do you see for your future?”
It was a pretty open-ended question, especially since that was the question she was most in need of help answering. She took a deep breath. “I still haven’t decided what career I’m interested in pursuing, but I’m hoping I can figure that out by the end of my first year of college.”
“So, is there a particular
major you wanted to declare, or were you thinking of applying as undeclared?”
“Undeclared,” she said.
“And is there a particular college you had in mind?”
“I was thinking of Cal State, but I also wanted to explore my other options.”
“I see,” he said, glancing down at the folder again. “Have you considered community college as a possibility? Many students like to go to get their feet wet and get some of their electives out of the way.”
“I don’t want to go to community college. I’m definitely going for my bachelor’s degree, and I don’t want to change schools partway through,” she said.
“I’ve been glancing over your school file in preparation for this meeting. Are there any extracurricular activities that you’re involved with? Sports, Girl Scouts, youth orchestras, anything like that?”
“Nothing like that. I had a summer job as a cotton candy vendor at The Zone, and I’m working the Scare event.”
He jotted something down in the file.
“Why do you want to go to college?” he asked.
“To get my degree so that I can start on a career,” she said. She wondered why he was asking. College was a no-brainer in her book.
“Candace, I’m going to be frank with you.”
She wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that or the look he was giving her.
“Yes?”
“I can tell you haven’t been applying yourself to anything.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“The last three years you’ve gotten mostly Bs with a few As. The teacher comments indicate that you didn’t struggle for the Bs. They came fairly easy to you, and with only a little effort you could have had a four point oh. Couple that with the fact that you have participated in no extracurricular activities, no community ser vice, or probably anything more remarkable than going to the mall, and I come up with a picture of you that tells me one thing: You don’t try very hard. Given that, I’m wondering what you think college is going to be like. You’re not going to be able to coast your way through that too. You’re going to have to really work, and unfortunately there’s nothing in your record that indicates to me or to a prospective college that you have the discipline or ambition to succeed.”
“But I am disciplined. I held a job all summer.”
“Unfortunately that isn’t compelling proof that further education is the right option for you. Maybe you would be better off just entering the workforce directly out of high school.”
“No! I refuse to do that. I’m not going to spend my life working as a cotton candy vendor or something like that. Just because I don’t know what I want to be doesn’t mean that I don’t know what I want out of life. I want to have a career. I want to have an education. I want to have a family and enough money that I don’t have to stress each month about paying bills. I’m not likely to get any of those things without going to college.”
“There’s the fire! Unfortunately, it seems like it only comes out when you’re provoked.”
She stared at him. She was angry, and she was hurt. Worse than that, though, was a creeping sense of humiliation. Deep down she was afraid that he was right. The first thing she had ever really worked at or fought for was her job at The Zone. So, while she wanted to throw everything he had said back in his face, she couldn’t.
“I don’t know what to say,” she said finally.
“At least that’s the truth,” he said. “Look. I’d like you to prove me wrong. Go home, take a couple of weeks, and think about what I said. Come back next month and we’ll talk about your options. You don’t have to apply to every school tomorrow.”
She stood stiffly, willing herself not to cry. The irony was not lost on her that she had been in Mr. Anderson’s shoes over the summer when nagging Kurt about his future. If it weren’t for her pushing him, he wouldn’t be attending community college. Now someone was telling her that she had no ambition and didn’t try. She realized how humiliated Kurt must have felt, and she felt sorry for that.
She left Mr. Anderson’s office, retrieved her things from her locker, and walked out to the parking lot. She sat down on a bench to wait for Tamara to get out of class. So far this was shaping up to be a rotten week. She had been looking forward to discussing colleges with Mr. Anderson, and the whole thing had seemed like some cruel joke.
Was Mr. Anderson right? Had she spent her life just coasting? She didn’t want to think so, but she couldn’t actually find proof to the contrary. By the time Tamara came out to the parking lot, Candace had worked herself into a state of sheer misery.
“Ouch!” Tamara said when she saw her. “That bad?”
Candace nodded, not trusting herself to speak just yet.
Twenty minutes later Candace had told Tamara everything around sips of a double hot chocolate with raspberry at their favorite coffee shop.
“He actually said that?” Tamara asked.
“Yes.”
“Oh, man, what’s he going to say to me?”
“I don’t know.”
“I was nervous enough already, but now I don’t know how I’m going to go in there,” Tamara admitted.
Candace just stared at her. “You’ll be great. You always are. Dazzle him by just being you.”
“You know, sometimes I think you have too high an opinion of me.”
“It’s only fair. It helps balance my low opinion of myself.”
“Come on, Candace, don’t say that. Shake it off. The guy’s a jerk. He doesn’t know you.”
“It sure seemed like he did,” she said, taking another swig of the steaming chocolate brew.
“Well, he doesn’t. The Candace I know is smart and strong and can do anything she sets her mind to.”
“Yeah, but how often have you seen me set my mind to something?” Candace asked.
“All summer.”
“Besides working at The Zone over the summer.”
Tamara was quiet for a minute, clearly trying to think of something to say.
“See? That’s just the problem. I can’t think of anything either,” Candace sighed.
“Well, then let’s stop thinking of the past and look to the future. What can you set your mind to tomorrow?”
It was a good question.
“I don’t know.”
“Then, I think you better spend some time trying to figure that out.”
10
Thursday night arrived and Candace showed up at The Zone. She had swung by earlier to pick up her new uniform, which looked a lot like her old uniform except it was orange and black striped instead of pink and white. She waved at friends as she walked toward the cart storage area. Martha was there with a clipboard.
“I’m sorry, Candace,” she said again.
“It’s okay,” Candace muttered. It was a lie. It wasn’t okay with her at all, but what good would it have done to say that? No use in both of them starting the evening off miserable.
“You’ll be selling packets of candy corn,” Martha said. “They’re two dollars each.”
Candace nodded. At least it wasn’t cotton candy. She wasn’t sure if she could have taken that.
“You’ll be on cart five,” Martha said, gesturing to it.
The same cart she had had all summer. There was something particularly fitting about that. Candace walked up to the cart and eyed it suspiciously. “Hello, old friend.”
As if in response, the cart whirred suddenly to life. The food carts at The Zone were totally automated. They could move themselves from location to location around the park as demand dictated. They could also be fitted to carry whatever was needed. A digital display sprang to life and the words I missed you, Candy! suddenly appeared.
Candace jumped. “Okay, now that’s extra creepy,” she muttered. For one horrible moment she thought the cart was talking to her. Then her brain settled on the more logical conclusion, someone was trying to be funny.
The cart headed off, and Candace walked beside it. When they arri
ved in the Splash Zone, the cart parked itself in a conspicuous place several yards from the exit to the Haunted Village maze. Candace looked around. She hadn’t been to this part of the park since it got its Halloween theming.
During the summer the Splash Zone was one of the most popular areas of the park. The entire area was themed to look like a seaside fishing village. A river ran completely around the perimeter of the zone, and two footbridges allowed passage over the river to the zones on either side. The river fed the area’s many water attractions, which included a log ride, a river-rafting ride, a water maze, a wave pool, and Kowabunga — a giant water slide. In the center of the zone, an island sat in a small lake. The island held a row of buildings that included shops, counter-ser vice eateries, and a lighthouse with a restaurant at the top.
During the fall, fewer players ventured into the Splash Zone. The row of shops had been temporarily gutted and turned into the Haunted Village maze. The whole zone was filled with fake fog, and the light from the lighthouse cut an eerie swathe through it, bathing everything it touched in a freakish glow. The cry of a foghorn boomed out periodically, and the lapping water sounded more ominous than it had during the summer.
Candace shivered. The place was definitely competing to be the creepiest in the park, and in her estimation it won, hands down. It actually felt like a real place that had been abandoned by time and left to decay. It wasn’t hard to imagine that such a place could be haunted.
A grizzled-looking fisherman with a hook for a hand walked by, tipping his hat to her. He seemed to disappear into the fog as he walked toward the buildings.
“Extra creepy,” she said out loud, eager to hear the sound of anyone’s voice, even just her own.
As the minutes ticked by and no one else appeared, she started to feel even more unnerved. Finally she heard voices and then saw a group of costumed characters moving toward her. They had a variety of props between them, including fishing nets, lanterns, and chains. Some of them waved at her before they headed into the maze. She relaxed slightly. Umpires followed close on their heels, and the Game Master showed up last.
A minute later the soundtrack for the maze started up. Instead of pounding rock music, this maze had creaking chains and ghostly howls punctuated by occasional bloodcurdling screams and the cries of seabirds.
The Fall of Candy Corn Page 8