Below the Surface

by Tim Shoemaker

  “Then we got another anonymous phone call on Monday night,” Tarpy said. “One of Wendy’s girlfriends had seen the fliers posted around town, and she claimed Wendy took off with a guy early on Sunday afternoon. She didn’t want Wendy’s parents to worry — but she didn’t want to snitch on her friend either.”

  Sunday afternoon? That would have been hours before the incident with Tommy Kryptoski. “So why are you talking to us?” Cooper regretted the question the moment he asked it. “I mean, it sounds like you have your answer.”

  Tarpy smiled. “I just need to be sure.”

  “It’s because of Hiro,” Gordy said. “She’s paranoid.”

  Tarpy eyed Gordy. “Paranoid?”

  “Yeah,” Gordy shrugged. “She wants to be a cop, right? And she’s always getting these feelings about things. Hunches. She even felt like she was being stalked on Monday afternoon.”

  The cop raised his eyebrows. “Stalked?”

  Gordy nodded. “But we looked around the area and didn’t see anyone. Didn’t hear anyone.”

  Cooper didn’t like where this was going. This made Hiro sound . . . bad. “Paranoid is way too strong a word here, Officer Tarpy. Actually, I think Hiro may be right — about a lot of this stuff.” Cooper didn’t know what to say next. He didn’t have any more proof to back up Hiro’s theories than she did.

  “What about you?” Tarpy focused on Gordy. “You think she imagined the stalker?”

  “Absolutely. She reads something into every little thing,” Gordy said. “She thought that drunk driver on Sunday night was out to kill Coop — like on purpose.”

  Tarpy nodded. He folded the piece of paper and pocketed it. “Thanks, guys. I appreciate your help.”

  Gordy looked relieved. “Happy to help.”

  “So, you had something you wanted to confess when I walked up,” Tarpy said. “Something that wasn’t going to happen again?”

  Gordy’s eyes got wide. “I, uh . . . well, I, um — ”

  Officer Tarpy laughed and stood. “On second thought, I don’t want to know.” He stretched, walked to his patrol car, and ducked inside.

  Gordy blew out a loud breath of air. “I think that went well.”

  Cooper didn’t agree. “If Hiro is right, the police will never take her seriously. Not after what you just said.”

  Gordy stared at Cooper. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this. There’s no way she’s right. You heard what the cop said. The missing girl took off with her boyfriend.”

  Cooper raked his hands through his hair. “Honestly, right now I’m so confused I don’t know what to think. Last night I was sure Hiro was right.”

  Lunk studied him. “And now?”

  Cooper thought for a moment. “I think we need to lighten up on her a little. Back off.”

  Lunk whistled softly. “You do believe her.”

  Just hearing Lunk say it made him all the more sure. “I’ll admit that everything Officer Tarpy just said made sense. And I hope he’s right. But I trust Hiro’s gut — don’t you?”

  Gordy looked out over the bay and shrugged. “Yeah. I guess.”

  Lunk clenched his jaw and nodded. “So what do we do?”

  “What we’ve always done before,” Cooper said. “Stick together.”

  Lunk sat in the bow of The Getaway and thought about Coop. He totally understood Coop wanting to support Hiro, and Lunk would definitely go through the motions. He was a team player. But after what the cop said, he wasn’t quite ready to buy into Hiro’s theories completely. And the more he thought about it, the more he saw the flaws in Hiro’s theory. Funny how the whole situation looked different now that a few more facts had come to light. The girl had run off. It made sense. These things happened all the time.

  He remembered Hiro’s expression when Coop told her everything the cop had said. She’d looked shocked. Maybe that was the wrong word. Embarrassed might be more like it. She’d never considered that the girl on the missing-person fliers that were plastered all over town could have run off with a boyfriend.

  “So does that mean we’re not looking for the camera?”

  Lunk couldn’t believe she’d even asked that. She didn’t get it. But still, he felt kind of bad for her. She’d gone out on a limb with all her theories, and the branch had snapped off underneath her. Maybe that’s why she was so quiet before they’d left her at The Cove.

  She probably felt really stupid. But she wasn’t. Hiro was the smartest girl he’d ever known — although he’d never tell her that. She just had it wrong this time.

  If she had any hopes of them looking for the camera, they were shot down when Coop’s mom announced they were going to the Walworth County Fair in Elkhorn the next day.

  Coop and Gordy were revved up about the fair. Lunk had never been to one, so he couldn’t relate. Actually there were a lot of things about those two that he couldn’t relate to. They were different from him — but mostly in good ways.

  A lot of it had to do with Coop’s faith. It seemed more important to him than ever. But Lunk just wasn’t there yet.

  And that wasn’t the only area where Lunk was different from Coop. So what did he have in common with these guys? Definitely not their love of the lake. The boat was good — better than he’d expected. And especially when Coop’s dad let him drive it. But the water itself? Thanks, but no thanks.

  Coop and Gordy loved the water — except for whatever was going on with Coop right now. But it was just one more way that Lunk was different from them. Why did they even let him into their circle? What did he contribute to the group? It was a real mystery. Yet he needed to figure it out because whatever it was, he had to keep doing it. Without his friends, Lunk knew he’d be right back where he’d been his whole life. Alone.

  Cooper hiked his backpack onto one shoulder and checked the sky. It still looked like rain, but there was no breeze. The gray sky stretched endlessly in all directions. He tossed his empty shake cup into the fifty-five-gallon drum used as a trash can at the Walworth County Fair. “I’m stuffed.”

  Lunk looked like he felt the same way.

  Hiro shook her head and smiled. “And now you boys want to hit the rides? Am I the only one with some common sense?”

  “Sense?” Gordy said. “Is that what you call it? We offered you roasted sweet corn on the cobb dripping in melted butter, and you passed. A corn dog? You turned up your nose. Bratwurst? You weren’t interested. And you didn’t want a shake either. Or elephant ears smothered with cinnamon sugar, ècream puffs, or anything in between. Which tells me you’re a little malnourished in the common sense department.”

  “I’m quite content,” Hiro said. “Which is more than you boys will be after you go on a few of these rides.”

  Gordy slapped his stomach. “This thing is like cast iron.”

  “Let the food settle first,” Hiro said. “Maybe we should hit the games again.” She pointed at the stuffed monkey hanging out of Cooper’s backpack. “Maybe we can win Chimpy’s girlfriend.”

  “Sorry,” Gordy said. “It’s time to hit the rides.”

  “Aren’t you worried about the effects of centrifugal force — or is it centripetal?” Hiro said.

  Gordy smiled. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Hiro sighed. “The spinning force on some of these rides could bring everything up.”

  “Poor Hiro,” Gordy said. “You are so sheltered. So uninformed. So — ”

  “So ready to deck you if you keep talking like that,” Hiro said.

  Cooper laughed. “Explain your theory to Hiro, Gordy.”

  Gordy bowed slightly. “Gladly. The way to do the fair is to eat all you can until you’re stuffed.”

  Hiro pointed at his stomach. “Obviously, you’ve accomplished your goal.”

  “That’s only part of it,” Gordy said. “Now we hit a ride or two so the ‘“spinning force”,’ as you call it, packs the food down tighter.”

  Lunk nodded. “Then we can go back and eat some more.” />
  “You three are seriously demented,” Hiro said. “And I’m not buying that cast-iron stomach bit either.”

  “Pick the ride,” Gordy said. He swept his hand across a section of the fairgrounds. “Typhoon. Pharaoh’s Fury. The Zipper. Freak Out. Or the Matterhorn. Choose the wildest one you can — and we’ll walk off of it with smiles on our faces.”

  “Right,” Hiro said. “More like you’ll crawl off the ride and upchuck your ècream puffs and bratwurst and elephant ears and who-knows-what-all that you just ate.”

  “Only amateurs hurl.” Gordy patted his abs again. “I’m telling you, I have an iron stomach.”

  Hiro folded her arms across her chest and scanned the rides, most of which were in full swing. “We’ll see, Mr. Iron Gut.” She stepped over bundles of electric cables that were snaked across the midway. “You want me to pick a ride?”

  Gordy snickered and bowed slightly. “What’ll it be?”

  Hiro closed her eyes and tilted her head to one side.

  “What’s she doing?” Lunk looked at Cooper.

  “Listening.” Cooper was sure of it. “She’s going to make her decision based on which ride gets the most people screaming.”

  Hiro raised her eyebrows and gave a single nod — but kept her eyes shut.

  “Better hurry,” Gordy said, “or I’ll have to grab more food.”

  Hiro opened her eyes and smiled like she really believed she could win this bet. “This way.” She pointed toward Typhoon.

  “Excellent choice,” Gordy said. “I’m impressed.”

  Cooper and the guys followed her. Lunk and Gordy grinned like Hiro’s choice had just made their day. She marched past the midway games without slowing down to watch. Cooper had to jog a few steps to catch up.

  “Typhoon is just like the Orbitor,” Gordy said, as though Hiro had asked him for a rundown on the ride. “Six spiderlike hydraulic arms hold clusters of two-man cars.” Gordy hustled alongside her. “The center axis spins each arm in a circle, and the arms are already spinning their clusters of cars.” He demonstrated with his hands, motioning wildly. “And then each spider arm — or leg or whatever — lifts its cluster of cars up to something like a ninety-degree angle.”

  “Sounds insane,” Hiro said. “It’s perfect for you.”

  “The ride is genius,” Gordy said. “An engineering marvel.”

  Hiro stopped to face him. “Puh-lease. Do you have any idea how unsafe these rides are?”

  Gordy waved off her comment.

  “I’m serious,” Hiro said. “This whole place is dangerous. If the food doesn’t kill you, the rides certainly can.”

  “Oh, nice.” Gordy nodded. “You’re not riding, is that it?”

  Hiro planted her hands on her hips. “Have you seen the rocket scientists who put these rides together?”

  Cooper knew she had a point.

  “What if the carnival workers didn’t tighten the bolts down hard? Or what if they left out a bolt? They have to disassemble these rides in another week. Why would they want to make their next job tougher?”

  Gordy shook his head. “The carnival workers aren’t going to take any chances. Are you riding, or are you going to keep stalling?”

  Hiro raised her chin and headed for Typhoon.

  The ride was swirling at full speed as they approached. Cooper stepped up next to a row of metal fencing set up to keep spectators from getting too close. The hydraulic arms raised and lowered the spinning clusters of cars as the whole thing turned on its axis. The thing was out of control. Possessed.

  Cooper hooked his backpack over the fence. Chimpy’s smiling face poked out of the top of the pack. He looked like he wanted to ride Typhoon too — or at least watch the fun. Coop fished his phone from his pocket and slipped it inside the backpack. “Hiro. Gordy. Want to put your phones in here too?”

  Gordy shook his head.

  Hiro pushed her phone deeper into her jeans pocket but kept her eyes on the ride. “I’m okay.”

  She didn’t look okay.

  “You know,” Cooper said, “you don’t have to ride with us. Why not sit this one out?” He pointed at the stuffed monkey. “You can keep Chimpy company.”

  She raised her chin slightly. “I can do anything you boys can do. And do it better.”

  Gordy grinned. “We’ll see.”

  She patted her pocket. “I’m keeping my phone handy so I can catch a video of you guys emptying your stomachs.”

  Gordy laughed and shook his head.

  The ride slowed and the hydraulic arms yawned back into place. Those who were truly into the ride were easy to spot. Eyes bright, like they wanted to ride again. Others, with fake smiles frozen on their faces, clearly couldn’t wait to get off. Typhoon finally came to a stop, and the riders staggered off.

  A smile creased the weathered face of the Typhoon operator as he watched his latest victims exit the ride.

  Gordy bounced on the balls of his feet — like he couldn’t wait to get moving. “You want to back out, Hiro?”

  She shook her head. “And miss my front row seat to see you lose it?” She marched toward the entrance. “C’mon, Mr. Iron Gut.”

  Hiro climbed into the closest available car. Cooper followed, taking the outside seat so he wouldn’t smash her when centrifugal force took over. Lunk and Gordy grabbed a car on the same hydraulic arm. If Gordy got sick, Hiro definitely wouldn’t miss it.

  Cooper lowered the lap bar.

  “Are you kidding me?” Hiro gripped the bar. “This is it? No shoulder harness? Nothing?”

  “All part of the effect,” Cooper said. “You gotta be like a cowboy on a bronc. Climb on and hang on.”

  Hiro shook her head. “It’s old. I can’t believe this passes safety regulations.”

  “Probably doesn’t.”

  “Oh, that’s comforting. Thanks, Coop.”

  A few people were climbing aboard the other cars. “You don’t have to prove anything to Gordy, Hiro. You can still hop off — if you do it now.”

  She looked liked she was weighing that option.

  “C’mon, Hiro. It’s okay. I’ll get off too.”

  She tightened her grip on the lap bar.

  Cooper laughed as the operator revved the diesel motors.

  Lunk looked grim — like he suddenly wasn’t so sure about this ride either.

  Gordy wasn’t even holding the safety bar yet. He held both thumbs up. “Ready, Hiro?”

  As if on cue, the Typhoon started turning. Slowly at first, like it was just waking from a power nap.

  “Coop?”

  Hiro’s voice sounded as small as she looked.

  “I don’t like this,” she said. “I mean, I really don’t like this.”

  He wished she’d taken him up on his offer to get off the ride. “It will all be over in two minutes.”

  She nodded. Her knuckles were already white — and the color of her face was moving in that same direction.

  Typhoon picked up speed and swept them around the inside of the makeshift fence again and again. Cooper spotted his backpack. The monkey watched them with a grin.

  “I have a bad feeling,” Hiro said.

  “The ride?”

  She shifted closer until there was no longer a gap between them. “I don’t know.”

  The hydraulic arm raised them up and gave them a freakyangled view of the fairgrounds. “Hang on!” Cooper said.

  Maybe it was Hiro’s comments about loose bolts or something, but Cooper felt like the entire car could fly off the hydraulic arm at any moment. They’d be dead. The lap bar seemed too small. The latch looked worn. Weak.

  Gordy whooped from somewhere off to Cooper’s right. At least Gordy was having a good time.

  Typhoon had whipped itself into a frenzy. Turning. Spinning. Like it was berserk — or maybe the operator was. The force pushed Cooper into the corner of the car. Hiro pressed up against him. Out of sheer instinct, he clamped sweat-slick hands around the metal bar across their laps. Even this would be
useless if anything went wrong with the ride. Like loose bolts. They’d be thrown halfway across the fairgrounds.

  “I hate this!” Hiro said. “And if you tell Gordy what I said, I’ll kill you.”

  He caught glimpses of Gordy and Lunk as they spun past them. Gordy was laughing hysterically. Lunk looked like he’d been hypnotized. Wide-eyed. Jaw clenched. Dead serious.

  The diesels roared on with no signs of slowing. The ride had to be longer than a minute already. Maybe two. What was the guy waiting for? Maybe the riders didn’t look sick enough yet. He obviously hadn’t seen Lunk.

  “Please, God!”

  Was Hiro praying? No doubt — and with all her heart. He wished she’d climbed off the ride when she had the chance. He hated knowing she was scared, and that he couldn’t do anything to help her. They flew past the Typhoon sign again and again. The thing seemed to mock them every time they went by. Cooper closed his eyes for a moment. That made the spinning worse.

  “Bad. Feeling.” Hiro pressed up against him. She seemed to be struggling to get the words out.

  She was riding on an empty stomach. Always a bad idea. He glanced at her and instantly knew the look on her face. She wasn’t feeling sick. She wasn’t afraid of the ride either. It was something else — her woman’s intuition. And whenever she got that feeling, it was never good.

  Hiro tried to pinpoint the feeling, but it was hard to do with all the spinning.

  “Almost over, Hiro.”

  Coop tried to make her feel better. But the ride showed no sign of slowing. He put his hand over hers and gripped the bar tighter. Like he wanted her to know she wasn’t going to fly out of the car. He wouldn’t let her.

  Their hydraulic arm lowered, spinning them parallel to the ground. “I feel like . . . ” — Hiro scanned the crowd behind the fence — “we’re being watched.”

  Coop hesitated. “Everybody’s watching. Just like we did.”

  That wasn’t it. “Someone is watching us specifically. You. Me. Lunk. Gordy.”

  Coop didn’t answer. Did he think it was her imagination? She couldn’t see his eyes to be sure. She watched the crowd instead. That’s when she saw him standing at the fence — just for a split second before Typhoon swung her out of that line of vision. He was wearing the same baseball cap. Beard. It was definitely him.