“No, it wasn’t. But, then, as far as I’m concerned, Josh is the first member of that branch of the family to show any brains in three generations.” Harry’s hand flexed on the steering wheel. “I’ll be damned if I’ll let Leon pressure him into leaving college.”
“Why would Leon want to do that in the first place?”
“Leon used to make his living driving race cars at county fairs. His son—my cousin Willy and Josh’s father—was a motorcycle stuntman. He was killed doing a stunt. Every few years Leon gets the harebrained notion of encouraging Josh to follow in the family footsteps.”
“Whew. I can see why you’re concerned. Doesn’t sound like a career path loaded with potential.”
“It’s a dead end.” Harry moved his right hand to the gearshift as he prepared to turn off the highway. “Literally, in Willy’s case. I’m not going to let Josh get sucked into that lifestyle.”
“How will you convince your uncle to leave him alone?”
“The same way I did the last time.” Harry’s mouth was a grim line. “Sweet reason.”
Molly did not press the matter. It was Trevelyan family business, after all. But she could not resist one last question. “What happened to Leon when he went to trial for auto theft?”
“The charges were dropped.”
“He must have had a good lawyer.”
“He did. I hired him myself.”
The Ferris wheel came into view first. It rose majestically above the midway, a venerable, graceful, glittering contraption that still had the power to enthrall young and old alike. The engineers who designed exotic rides for the new high-tech theme parks had invented far more elaborate thrill machines over the years, but nothing would ever replace the Ferris wheel on a carnival midway.
Harry did not enjoy Ferris wheels, or any of the other rides, for that matter. He told himself that it was because he’d come from a carny family. Although his father had sold his amusement show before his son was born, Harry had spent several summer vacations traveling with his Trevelyan relatives. He had learned to set up, operate, and tear down the rides. No one who worked the midway got a kick out of the machines. It was a business, after all.
But Harry had always suspected that his personal dislike of the whirling, churning, stomach-wrenching devices went deeper in him than it did in other people involved in the world of the carnival. The real truth was that he hated the lack of control he experienced when he was trapped inside one of the small, spinning carriages.
He had struggled too long to develop a sense of self-mastery. He could not willingly surrender that control to anyone or anything else, not even for a three-minute amusement park ride.
Molly twisted in her seat to get a better view of the fairgrounds. “Where are we going?” she asked as Harry drove past the main parking lots.
“Around back to where the carnies and the fair people park their vehicles. Uncle Leon will be there somewhere.”
The motley collection of trucks, vans, trailers, and motor homes stood on the far side of the fairgrounds. They were shielded from the view of the fairgoers by a fence lined with the colorful booths and tents of the midway.
Harry parked near a stand of trees and got out. A light wind blew toward him across the fairgrounds. The combined scent of grease, popcorn, and corn dogs hit him, as it always did, with a tidal wave of memory.
Molly came to stand beside him. “Something wrong?”
“No.” Harry pulled his thoughts back to the present. “That smell always reminds me of the summers I spent with my Trevelyan relatives.”
Molly held a wisp of hair out of her eyes and regarded him with an intently curious expression. “I’ll bet you’re not a big fan of popcorn and hot dogs.”
“No, I’m not.” He took her hand and started toward a cluster of aging trailers. “Look, this interview with Uncle Leon is not going to be pleasant. Do you think you can find something else to do until it’s over?”
“No problem. I’ll tour the exhibits.”
“Don’t get conned into buying any of the juicer-grater-slicer-dicer machines from the guys who do the demonstrations. The gadgets are all junk.”
“Don’t be silly,” Molly said. “I’m a businesswoman, remember? I’m not likely to be taken in by someone else’s sales pitch.”
Harry gave her a pitying look. “Haven’t you ever heard that the easiest person to sell to is a person who is in sales?”
“Hah. I don’t believe it. I’ve never heard that particular bit of wisdom. It sounds like more of your paranoid philosophy, and I am not going to listen to it. Now, how will I find you after you’ve finished speaking to your uncle?”
Harry smiled faintly. “Somewhere on the midway you’ll find a fortune-teller’s tent. Look for a sign advertising Madam Evangeline. I’ll meet you there around one o’clock.”
“Got it.” She touched his arm in a light, fleeting gesture, and then she walked off toward the gate.
Harry waited until she disappeared into the crowd. He still didn’t understand why he had brought her with him today, but he was glad he had.
He walked through the encampment until he found the aging trailer Leon called home. It was parked near a tree. Leon’s old truck stood nearby.
Harry pounded on the screen door of the trailer. “Leon, you inside?”
“Who the hell…?” Leon came to the door of the trailer. He squinted against the sunlight. When he saw Harry his teeth flashed in the Trevelyan grin. “Shit. So you finally got here. You’re late. Figured you’d show up yesterday.”
“If I’d known you were so eager to see me again, I’d have waited a little longer.”
“The hell you would have waited.” Leon opened the screen door. “When it comes to this kind of thing, you’re as predictable as the sunrise. One of your bad habits, boy. Come on in.”
Harry stepped into the shadowy confines of the trailer. The blinds were shut. It took a brief moment for his eyes to make the transition from the sun-drenched parking lot to the close darkness inside the metal hulk.
“Beer?” Leon asked casually from somewhere off to the left.
The cold, damp can came hurtling out of the gloom before Harry could reply. He opened his hand without thinking about it. The beer can landed firmly in his grasp. Things had a way of doing that.
“Thanks,” Harry said absently.
Leon grinned. “Still fast as ever, I see. Damn shame you didn’t use those talented Trevelyan hands for something a little more useful than writin’ dull books.”
Harry peeled back the ring on the beer can. “Reflexes have a way of going on a man as he gets older. I prefer to rely on my brains.”
“That Stratton blood of yours ruined you.” Leon sprawled on the battered sofa that was built into the curved rear wall of the trailer. He gestured with his beer can. “Have a seat.”
Harry sank down onto the ripped vinyl bench that framed the eating nook. He glanced around without much interest.
Little had changed, either in the decor or in Leon, over the years. Trailer and owner appeared to have bonded in some indefinable manner. The stained linoleum on the floor had a counterpart in Leon’s faded shirt and ancient, low-slung jeans. The torn curtains on the small windows smelled of tobacco and booze. So did Leon.
Harry decided that, on the whole, Leon was holding up better than his trailer. That was due to the sturdy Trevelyan genes, not anything resembling good health habits.
Leon was in his sixties, but he still possessed the lean build and broad shoulders that were characteristic of Trevelyan males. He was as handsome as Harry’s father had been. Harry knew Leon still traded shamelessly on his looks. His uncle went through women as though they were lollipops. Willy had had the same approach to the opposite sex.
Harry was satisfied that Josh was not going to follow in their footsteps in that regard. For all his good-nature
d teasing about the unused box of condoms in the bathroom cupboard, Josh had more common sense and innate integrity about such matters at twenty than his father and grandfather had ever had in their entire lives. Harry had made sure of it.
Leon took a long, deep swallow of beer. “So how’s the soft life in the big city?”
“Fine.” Harry waited. He had learned long ago that it never paid to reveal urgency or eagerness with Leon. Leon liked to goad people until he provoked them into doing something stupid.
“Shit. I still don’t know why you want to live like that,” Leon mused. “Where’s your Trevelyan spirit?”
“Beats me.” Harry took a short sip of the beer.
“No guts, no glory, son. Haven’t you ever heard that bit of wisdom?”
“I hear it every time I have a conversation with you, Uncle Leon.”
“Josh tells me you’re seeing some mousy little shopkeeper.”
Harry did not move. “Did Josh call her mousy?”
“No, but I got the picture. Runs a tea shop, Josh said. I know the type. Prissy, uptight little business suit, right?”
“Not quite,” Harry said softly.
Leon ignored him. “Hell, your pa at least had the gumption to run off with a rich man’s daughter. Your ma was a real beauty, and everyone knows the Strattons have enough money to float a battleship.”
“So they say.”
“You’re a damn fool for turning your back on all that cash, by the way.”
“So I’m told.”
Leon squinted at him over the beer can. “Hell, you ain’t the best-lookin’ Trevelyan to come down the road, but you’re still a Trevelyan. Thought you could do better than a dull little shopkeeper.”
“When did you develop this abiding interest in my private life?”
“Got to take an interest in it. Worried about Josh.”
Harry steeled himself. “What does my private life have to do with Josh?”
“Simple.” Leon grimaced. “You’re a bad influence on the boy. All he talks about is goin’ to college forever and a day to get some fancy science degree. Says he wants to do research, for cryin’ out loud. Next thing you know, he’ll be dating boring little shopkeepers, too.”
“And you’d rather he got himself killed trying to make a motorcycle fly through a ball of fire?”
“Bastard.” Leon flung his empty beer can against the wall of the trailer. He sat forward, his fists bunched on his knees. “I want him to be a man, like his father was. Like I am. Like your father was. I don’t want him turnin’ into a goddamned, overeducated wimp like you.”
“How much?” Harry asked without inflection.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know what it means. How much do you want in exchange for laying off Josh for the summer?”
“You think you can buy anything, don’t you? That’s the damned Stratton blood in you talkin’. Well, I’ve got news for you. This is my grandson’s future we’re discussin’. He’s all I got left in this world. Blood of my blood, fruit of my loins. I want to see him become a man I can be proud of. You think you can put a price tag on that kind of thing?”
“No problem.”
Leon’s face worked furiously. “This is about family, damn you. It’s not about money.”
“Don’t give me that crap,” Harry said wearily. “We both know this isn’t about Josh or his future. It’s about making a deal.”
“Son-of-a-bitch.”
“It’s okay, Uncle Leon. I’m willing to negotiate one more time. Now, how much do you want?”
Leon glowered at him for a few more seconds. Then he fell back against the couch and closed his eyes. “I need a new truck. Old one won’t go another mile. Evangeline’s got a whole summer of fairs lined up. Got to have reliable transportation.”
Harry whistled softly. “A new truck, huh? Congratulations, Uncle Leon. You’re learning to think big.”
Leon slitted his eyes. “We got a deal?”
“Sure.” Harry put his unfinished beer down on the table. He got to his feet. “Same deal as last time.”
“Like I said, you’re as reliable as the sunrise. Got to watch that, Harry. Bad habit like that’ll get you into a lot of trouble.”
Harry went to the door of the trailer. He looked out across the grassy parking lot. “I meant what I said, Leon. We have the exact same deal as last time.”
“Yeah, yeah. I heard you.”
Harry opened the screen door and went down one step. He glanced back over his shoulder. “You stop pressuring Josh to leave college, and I’ll pay for your new truck.”
“Like I said, we got a deal.”
“Yes.” Harry met his uncle’s eyes. “Break your end of the bargain, Leon, and you know what happens.”
“Don’t threaten me, boy. You’d never go through with it. You haven’t got the guts to do it, and we both know it.”
Harry said nothing. He just held Leon’s gaze. The sounds of the fairground receded into the distance. A great silence gripped the trailer. The shadows within seemed to thicken.
Leon appeared to shrink in on himself. “Yeah, yeah. A deal’s a deal. Go on, get outa here. I got to get down to the pits. Racing starts at seven-thirty tonight.”
Harry let the sagging screen door clatter shut behind him.
He walked toward the fairground entrance. The smell of grease and popcorn and the aroma of the animal barns washed over him.
He suddenly wanted to find Molly.
6
Clutching an armful of purchases, Molly paused outside the red, gold, and turquoise striped booth. She looked up to read the words on the sign overhead.
Madam EvangelineLearn the Secrets of the Past, Present, and FutureADVICE ON MATTERS OF LOVE AND MONEYDiscretion Assured
Molly studied the beaded curtain that closed the entrance to the booth. She did not believe in palmistry, card readings, or crystal balls. The last thing she wanted to do was get her fortune told. She wondered if Harry intended to meet her outside or inside the booth.
She turned to scan the length of the midway, hoping to catch sight of him in the crowd. All she saw was an endless stream of people, their hands full of popcorn, candy apples, and hot dogs, wandering from booth to booth.
As Molly watched, a young man strolled past carrying a huge stuffed panda bear. He caught her eye and grinned.
“I won it for my girlfriend,” he said proudly.
“Nice.” Molly eyed the panda wistfully. “Was it hard to win?”
“Nah. You could probably win one for yourself.”
“Do you really think so?”
“Sure,” the young man responded very smoothly. “Why not give it a try? Only costs a quarter a toss. The booth is right across the way. See it?”
“Yes. Thanks. Maybe I’ll give it a whirl.”
“You won’t be sorry,” the young man promised. He strolled off down the midway.
Molly was about to make her way through the crowd to the coin toss game when she heard the fortune-teller’s curtain snap open behind her.
“Madam Evangeline sees the past, present, and future,” a throaty voice declared. “Come inside and learn your fate in love and fortune.”
Molly swung around in surprise. A handsome, statuesque, middle-aged woman with silver-shot black hair stood amid the clattering beads. Fine brown eyes, a classic nose, and high cheekbones composed a face that would be striking until the woman was well into her nineties.
The fortune-teller was dressed in an ankle-length gown made of several layers of variously colored and patterned fabrics. Her long, graceful fingers were sheathed in rings. A massive necklace hung with gold and amber pendants accented an impressive bosom.
“Hello,” Molly said politely. “I’m supposed to meet someone here.”
The woman looked deep int
o Molly’s eyes. “I think you have already met him.”
“I beg your pardon?”
The woman inclined her head in a regal gesture. “I am Madam Evangeline. Come inside, and I will show you your future.”
Molly shifted the packages in her arms. “That would be pointless. I don’t believe in fortune-telling, Madam Evangeline. And, quite frankly, I wouldn’t want to know my future, even if you could see it for me. Thanks, anyway. If you don’t mind, I’ll just wait out here.”
“Please come inside,” Evangeline murmured in an insistent tone. “I will not tell you anything that you do not wish to know.”
Molly hesitated, her curiosity piqued. She glanced around once more to see if she could spot Harry in the crowd. There was no sign of him. She turned back to Evangeline.
“Actually, there is something you could tell me,” she said.
Evangeline bowed. “I am at your service. Come inside and tell me what it is you would discover.” Bells tinkled as she beckoned Molly into the tent.
Molly stepped cautiously through the dancing beads. A shadowy gloom filled the interior. The floor was covered in a midnight-blue carpet dotted with yellow stars and a moon. Yards of dark, heavy fabric cascaded down all four sides of the tent.
When her eyes adjusted to the low light, Molly was able to make out a table draped in maroon velvet. An opaque, softly glowing glass ball stood in the center. Beside it was a deck of cards. A shallow, silver bowl filled with water was placed on a nearby shelf.
“Please sit down.” Evangeline gestured toward one of the two chairs that were positioned on either side of the table. “You may put your packages on the floor over there, if you wish.”
“Thanks. They’re getting very heavy.” Molly set her burdens down and heaved a small sigh of relief. “I had no idea I’d find so many useful items in the exhibit halls.”
Evangeline smiled. “Many people have had the same experience.”
“I can believe it.” Molly brushed her frothy, windblown hair back behind her ear. “You should have seen the crowds I had to fight in order to get this stuff. One lady actually tried to snatch my new Ace Wondermatic All-Purpose Kitchen Appliance right out of my hands.”
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