Transcontinental

by Brad Cook

  “Find what you were looking for?” she asked, facing down.

  “I might ask you the same,” Ant remarked.

  She paused for a split second, and then swiped the last few cans across the scanner. “Your total today is nineteen fifty-six.”

  “What do you know?” Ant remarked. “My birthday.”

  The woman forced a closed-mouthed smile as Leroy slid her a twenty. She bagged the items up and counted out his change, then struggled to lift Ant’s backpack up to the counter after Leroy’s.

  As they gathered their possessions and plodded to the sliding doors, they passed the man that had been following them. Looking at him, burley with a baseball cap and his hands tucked in his jacket pockets, Leroy thought he fit the description of a shoplifter better than they did.

  “If you wanted my number, all you had to do was ask,” Ant sassed.

  The spy’s eyes widened, but he ignored the bait and walked on.

  Outside the store, Leroy set his bag on the ground and unzipped it, using the illumination from the store’s emblem to brighten the twilight. Peering inside, he said “They definitely went through my stuff.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Stuff that was on the bottom’s on top now.”

  Ant set his bag down and inspected the contents.

  “Mine has been rejiggered as well.”

  After both of them determined that nothing had been taken, they divvied up the groceries, with Ant taking the majority of the heavier items. Leroy rearranged the items in his bag, putting the cans at the bottom.

  “Unbelievable,” Leroy scowled. “Isn’t that illegal, or something?”

  “Just be thankful nothing is missing.”

  “What gives them the right, though?”

  “To be fair, we were on their property, subject to their regulations.”

  “Just seems wrong. What about privacy?”

  “They likely wanted to ensure the safety of their employees and wares.”

  “Like they thought we had a gun?”

  “Or perhaps a bomb.”

  “So paranoid. What kinda psycho would blow up random people?”

  “In America we are lucky enough to consider it unthinkable, but elsewhere in the world it is a daily occurrence, a fact of life.”

  “But why?”

  “The reasons are as numerous as they are complex, ranging from religious fundamentalism, to rogue ideology, to simple hatred.”

  The thought of committing an act of destruction like that eluded Leroy’s comprehension. He could find no reason, motive, or emotion in any crevice of his mind that would enable him to do such a thing.

  “So just ‘cause somebody might do something bad, we’re all on watch?”

  “I do not agree with it, but that is their logic, yes.”

  As they crossed the parking lot and reached the main road, Ant stopped. “So the next step in the plan is sleep somewhere, I believe.”

  It was dark, but Leroy wasn’t tired yet. “Yeah. Let’s start looking.”

  They walked in the dirt and grass between the road and the railroad tracks. For the sun having only recently set and their close proximity to a major city, there were very few cars on the road.

  “Where is everybody?” Leroy asked.

  “Mormons are… creamy peanut butter people,” Ant smirked.

  It was the first time in a long time that Leroy had laughed.

  * * *

  “Wish I could ride the ferris wheel.”

  Leroy regretted his thoughtless words instantly as Ant’s face twisted into a grin he recognized—it was the face the Grinch made in the christmas cartoon when he’d gotten his wonderful, awful idea.

  “Who says we cannot?” Ant asked, to Leroy’s dismay.

  An hour and a few miles outside the city after a particularly dark walk, it was as if civilization had ceased to exist; the suburbs, the streetlights, even the farmland had yielded to jagged, untamed wilderness. Leroy’d been surprised there was a street at all.

  But there was a street, and there were train tracks, both seeming to stretch on forever until Leroy could no longer see the feeble light of the pale lunar curve glinting off the rails.

  They came to a quant, inactive local fair, not much more than a carousel, a ferris wheel, and a handful of small booths and stands. Leroy did wish he could ride the ferris wheel; the little fair reminded him of his mother in the best way, but the look on Ant’s face scared off any positive feelings Leroy had been experiencing.

  “I say we cannot!” Leroy implored, too late.

  After dropping the six feet from the top of the fence, Ant smiled.

  Leroy waved his arms. “Too crunchy! Too crunchy!”

  “Relax, I doubt it will turn on.”

  Leroy awaited Ant’s return, riding high on that hopeful doubt. A thousand things could go awry, half of which involved the police. The lights of a ferris wheel would be sure to attract attention on an inky evening.

  As Leroy grasped the fence, trying to see through the ink, a mechanical snarl split the silence. He swiveled toward the sound and saw a pair of headlights hurtling his direction. He dropped to the ground. Heart pumping hard, his thoughts racing as fast as the car, he flattened, then flopped his head over to face the lights as they closed in.

  Couldn’t be the cops, he thought, could it? How could they know already? Unless the fence had some sort of motion detector, or cameras. Leroy pounded the ground with his fist. Thanks a lot, Ant.

  He knew he should probably just run. The thought of leaving Ant to deal with the situation alone distressed him, but it was Ant’s own fault. Nobody, certainly not Leroy, had forced him to break into a damn fair.

  The headlights grew larger as the car blew through the gears.

  Leroy had more important things to do than waste time with an old hobo. He had priorities, and the most pressing was this mission that would make or break the rest of his life. The urge to run electrified him.

  Yet he couldn’t. Leroy couldn’t just leave Ant behind, as much as he wanted to. But he was paralyzed with fear, so he wasn’t much help, either.

  “Hey!” he called out. “Ant!”

  The only response came from the car’s engine, a musical, full-throated growl slowly ascending in pitch as it plowed nearer to him. Holding his breath, Leroy waited for the brakes to lock up and the car to skid to a stop, but it charged on down the road.

  Leroy drew in a full breath and blew it out, scattering dirt. He watched as the car’s taillights faded into tiny red pinpoints, then disappeared.

  As he stood and brushed himself off, though, he noticed that the sound wasn’t gone; a whine emanated from inside the fence. Leroy had just realized what it was when a resonant thunk shook him, then the fair sputtered to life as the ferris wheel and carousel lights flickered on section by section, a staticky circus tune trying hard to escape the worn speakers.

  Standing at the center of it all, as always, was Ant, like some sort of bizarre ringleader, that childish smile etched onto his face. In that moment, Leroy could only admire the man. When he wanted something, he simply did what was required to get it. It didn’t, however, make what Ant wanted any less stupid.

  “Are you crazy?” Leroy cried. “A car just passed!”

  “Come on in,” Ant said.

  “Nuh-uh, turn that off and let’s get outta here.”

  “I thought you wanted to ride the ferris wheel.”

  “Not if it gets me arrested. The place’s closed!”

  “It is called a fair, Leroy, not an unfair. Why should we be prohibited to enjoy it based on when we arrive?”

  Leroy didn’t have an answer, though he still felt it was wrong. Regardless, he lolled his head, sighed, then hopped the fence. Ant was going to do what Ant was going to do. Leroy wasn’t about to wander into the back country of Utah at night unaccompanied. There could be bears and mountain lions and snakes out there, for all he knew.

  “Wonderful. Now, I know you are fond of the ferris whe
el, but how do you feel about the carousel? Because I have always been a fan.”

  As Leroy looked around the bare fairgrounds, he saw a ghost of the experience he once knew. Gone were the children screaming, laughing, crying, the happy families, the scraggly carnies, the yelping vendors, the crisp scent of frying dough flavoring the air. Gone was his mother. All of it was gone, stripped to the bone and replaced by a disquieting stillness that turned the once playful circus song ominous.

  “You know someone’s gonna see us, right?”

  “Nonsense! Ferris wheel it is.” Ant bounded over to it and opened the cart at the bottom, gesturing for Leroy to get in. “I will start it up.”

  Leroy waded toward it, the worry on his face visible.

  “I can at least get my own car?”

  “Lay claim to as many as you like, there are more than enough.”

  Leroy plopped onto the seat, thudding on the hard plastic disguised as a padded bench, and the gate clicked into place. He should be sleeping right now. Instead, he was illegally patronizing the White City fair.

  Ant pushed Leroy’s car back and opened the gate on another. “Okay, get ready,” he said, then pressed a button and hopped into his car.

  As the huge wheel ground to a slow spin, Leroy felt as if he was dreaming; with the moon behind the clouds, the modest fair, a soft tangle of hazy lights, seemed to hover in the darkness. The ferris wheel rotating in reverse only intensified the surreality of the situation.

  “Not too bad, huh?” Ant said from in front of him.

  “Glad you’re enjoying it.” Every second Leroy spent inside the fences frayed his nerves. He’d let Ant have his fun for a minute, then bail out.

  Leroy had to admit, though, it was kind of relaxing not being able to see what was in front of him, not being able to see anything at all. There was almost a feeling of weightlessness in the vertigo of the dark. He kicked back and spread out as his car reached the top of the loop.

  In the car above him, Ant faced backward, clutching the plastic seat. He couldn’t quite tell at first, but he was sure of it, now—they were police lights that were tearing down the road, still over a mile out, but surely headed their way.

  “Uh,” Ant started, his voice floating up to Leroy in the same dreamy manner as the music. “Okay, that was fun, but we should get moving.”

  “Man, that’s what I’ve been saying,” Leroy said. “Maybe one more go-around, though, I’m just starting to like this.” He turned sideways in the car, the police lights blocked from him by the backrest.

  “No, you were right. We should leave, right now.”

  “Wow, finally right about something and I now I wish I wasn’t.”

  “You would be shocked how often that is the case,” Ant said, peering out at the police lights, still. As his car reached the bottom, he leapt out and slammed the button, and the wheel ground to a halt.

  “Aw come on, I wanted one more,” Leroy said, sitting up.

  Ant was already mid-sprint toward the generator, weaving between the booths. He skidded to a stop in the dirt in front of the machine and flipped the switch. A moment later, each attraction’s lights flicked off, one by one.

  “What the hell?” Leroy called out, standing by the ride. “Ant?”

  As the music faded out and the siren became audible, Ant jogged back over to Leroy. Even in the dark, Ant could see the terror in his face.

  “What d’we do?” Leroy asked, his voice quivering.

  Confident and calm, Ant said “Stay silent.”

  Just like Leroy’d imagined earlier, the car’s brakes locked up as it slid into the deserted parking lot. He’d seen it on TV a hundred times, and now he was living it. The lanky officer flicked on the spotlight and jumped out.

  “White City police!” he croaked.

  Ant signaled for Leroy to follow and dove behind the nearest booth, a thin strip of red and white plastic the only thing between them and the law. Hands on Leroy’s shoulders, Ant whispered, “You first, up the fence. Stay hidden.”

  Leroy glanced around and inhaled, then took off for the fence.

  “Quietly!” Ant said, trying to muffle his voice.

  “You are in direct violation of Utah title seventy-six, chapter six, section, ah… two-oh-six,” the officer barked as he fumbled with the lock on the gate, “and you need to come out with your hands up!”

  Leroy softened his step and crept onto the fence. It creaked under his shifting weight as he climbed, but he stabilized and swung his legs over the top, then dropped to a quiet crouch on the ground below. Looking back, he saw Ant pounce out from behind the booth and practically scale the fence in a single leap.

  “Come on,” Ant said, and he dashed inaudibly into the thicket of brush beyond the fairgrounds. Leroy hustled to follow, indifferent to the scrapes and spiderwebs he acquired along the way.

  In a glade a few hundred feet out, they caught their breath. The coruscating red and blue lights tinted the forest around them as the officer’s warnings and demands were lost to the evening wind. Leroy, doubled over with his hands propped on his knees, turned to Ant, who grinned as if the cop they’d just run from had been a paid actor, simply doing his job for their amusement.

  “I told you!” Leroy said, gasping for air. “I told you someone’d see it.”

  “You were right,” Ant casually remarked, leaning on a tree.

  “Dammit, this is serious! Why you smiling?”

  “Why does anyone smile?” Ant chuckled. “Because I am having fun.”

  “Fun?” Leroy’s eyes widened in a confused fury. “That was so close!”

  “Bah,” Ant dismissed him with a wave. “He was not even inside the fence.”

  “Well, he is now.”

  Back at the fairgrounds, the officer’s flashlight flitted from booth to booth as he scoured the area, repeatedly traveling the same route.

  “But we are not.”

  A second police car pulled up to the fair, lights flashing out of sync with the first, creating a disorienting strobe-like effect.

  “Oh, that’s great.” A bitter tone laced Leroy’s words. “Let’s go.”

  Ant held out a hand to stop him. “No. We wait it out.”

  “What kinda sense does that make?” Leroy asked, only to be shushed. Ant motioned for him to watch, and with a scowl, he did.

  The first officer searched a moment longer, then hurried to the gate to meet his backup, and Leroy couldn’t see him anymore. He strained for a time to find something to watch, but there was no movement, and without the lights of the fair the dark was palpable.

  Then, one of the police cars shut its lights off. Leroy perked up further as the car pulled away from the fair. Shortly after, or maybe it wasn’t, Leroy was so tired coming down from the adrenaline rush he couldn’t tell, the other car’s lights were muted. It followed the first car at a slower pace, as if the officer wanted one more chance to find someone, then roared ahead to make up lost ground.

  Leroy exhaled what seemed like ten minutes of held breath.

  “Now can we go?” he asked through a yawn that left him bereft of energy.

  “Not yet,” Ant answered. “Not until we know where we are going.”

  “I don’t know, okay? I don’t know where to go, I don’t know where to sleep. I’m not a leader like you,” Leroy agonized. “I’m not a captain.”

  “Goodness, I have not heard so much self-pity since my last semester teaching university,” Ant asserted. “Pull yourself together.” He led a grimacing Leroy down a path between two rows of bushes. “Leadership is not like art. It is not genetic, or inherent. It dwells in each of us, a state of mind one discovers when it is asked of him.”

  “Guess I haven’t found it yet.”

  “You would not be halfway across Utah if you had not,” Ant proclaimed. “Let me tell you a secret, Leroy: everybody is uncertain—parents, professors, police officers, the president. All one can do is parse the data at hand and make a decision with confidence. And that’s the tric
k: confidence. If you do not have it, fake it. Eventually, it will harden into the real thing.”

  Leroy’d always known that his mother had no idea what she was doing in life, but the fact that other adults, normal people, felt the same, even if only sometimes, was a revelation to him. It eased his mind.

  “Okay, well, I have an idea,” Ant said. “I have always wanted to try this.”

  “No more ideas. I just wanna sleep.”

  “Thus, my idea. Follow me.”

  * * *

  Had Leroy known that Ant’s idea involved walking almost an hour back to the megastore that’d deemed them potential shoplifters, he’d have politely declined. Yet there they were, awash in the glow that had seemed so welcoming earlier, but now felt like a surveillance aid.

  “You kidding me? I’d’ve rather slept back in the woods by the fair,” Leroy said, secretly made anxious by the sight of the store. He remembered what Ant had said though: just be confident. He tried.

  “It would have been unsafe to sleep there without a fire due to the wildlife in the area, and a fire would have been too conspicuous.”

  “How’s a jungle any better?”

  Ant shrugged. “Most jungles have been there for many years. Animals tend to stay away from inhabited locations, especially those with a fire.”

  “They got a spy walking around the store! How can we sleep here?”

  “O ye of little faith,” Ant said, and strutted through the sliding doors.

  Leroy was tired enough that he didn’t protest, and sulked in after Ant.

  An elderly man with his mouth hanging open waved them in, bags and all. Instead of heading to customer service, Ant trod the main walkway, barren but for a few midnight shoppers, then branched off toward the clothing section.

  “Look, I got enough underwear,” Leroy said.

  “What is it about this place that brings out the comedian in you?”

  “This is obviously a bad idea. We’re gonna get kicked out.”

  “The night staff never cares.” Ant stopped in the women’s clothing section. He dropped his bag through the top of a circular clothing rack, hidden by a round ruffle of floral sun dresses that almost resembled a flower itself.