When Mr. Iago leaned in to look, I moved away. My skin crept having him so close to me. I took a step toward the other end of the table and put my hand on Mrs. Chapman’s shoulder. She patted my fingers. On the card Vella had laid out was the image of a tower on fire, two naked people falling from it to the ground.
“What does it mean?” Mama Rosie asked.
“The end of a way of life. Chaos will pave the way in a new world for those who can survive the destruction.”
“That’s cheerful,” Red said.
Vella picked the card back up. She looked up at me. “Can you let me know when you’re going to head out? I’d like to caravan,” she said.
I smiled and nodded. I wasn’t really interested in her gloom and doom, but I sure didn’t want to be on the road alone in a time like this.
Red, Neil, and I headed back to the rides and started the break-down process. It wasn’t easy with just the three us, but Neil was good with the lift, and I had the break-down down-pat. We had the tilt loaded onto the flatbed in no time.
“I’ve never seen a girl as good with a wrench as you are, Cricket,” Red told me as we headed over to the swings.
“Don’t hurt none that my daddy put one in my hands about a minute after I was born,” I replied with a laugh.
“You know I met your daddy back in the 80’s. We worked for Fairway Fun together for about a year.”
“For real? I didn’t know that.”
“Boy, your daddy. There wasn’t a mark he couldn’t clean out or a townie whose eye he couldn’t catch. I think your daddy was born for the carnie life.”
“He loved it. That’s the truth,” I replied. I loved talking about my daddy. Since he’d died three years ago, I often felt lonely for him. Anytime someone had a story to share about him I was all ears. Daddy had just finally saved and borrowed enough to buy a used tilt-a-whirl when he started looking a little red in the cheeks from time to time. My daddy had always been a ride jockey, but now he would be a ride owner, and a “tilt man,” a title that made him proud. He liked the idea of tweaking the ride, playing with the gears and brakes. It was a dream for him. Not a month after getting the ride, however, I found him lying dead of a heart attack. He’d been working on one of the cars. Doctor said a life full of eating nothing but carnival food will do that to you. I’d thought about leaving the carnival, but after my daddy had worked so hard, I couldn’t. I became a tilt girl. The ride was like his living memorial. Every time a child smiled or laughed on that ride, I knew my daddy was smiling in heaven.
“I never did meet your mama. You ever see her, Neil?”
Neil shook his head. “Someone said you look like her, Crick.”
“Yeah, I suppose so. I probably wouldn’t know her anymore. Last time I talked to her she said she’d dyed her hair red,” I replied. My mom and dad had split when I was young. She had married and started a new life. We rarely talked.
We worked on the swings. They were an easy break down, and we were done and packed in less than two hours. The Big Eli, as we called the Ferris Wheel, was another story altogether, and it was already after one in the morning.
“Let’s get it first thing tomorrow,” Red said. “I’m feeling my bones.”
I nodded. Puck had started whining for his dinner an hour before so I wasn’t planning to argue. “Just knock in the mornin’,” I called to Red. “I’m over by the creek at the edge of the parking lot. Wasn’t room left in the back when I got here,” I added.
“Well, that will teach you not to play around in town next jump,” Red replied with a laugh, and we went our separate ways, Neil and Red chatting as they went the other direction.
Back in the parking lot, I crawled into the cab of my truck, my home away from home. When I was a game agent, I used to drive a small RV, but the ride needed a semi-truck to haul it so I gave up my RV, managed to get a CDL license, and now lived in the cab of my truck. It wasn’t too bad, and if it started to feel real tight, I would stay in a bunk house.
I dug around until I found a can of food for Puck. I placed a small bowl on the ground and sat beside him, petting him while he ate, looking out at the view. My spot by the creek wasn’t bad. I could hear the sound of the rushing water. Besides, the parking lot was dead. There would be no noise.
After Puck had gobbled down his meal, he jumped in the cab, and we snuggled together on the small cot behind the seat. I pulled the curtain closed, and we called it a night.
I thought Red was going to wake me the next morning so I was surprised to see the sun was up when I pulled back the curtain. Puck was whimpering to get out. I opened the door, and he bolted to the nearest tree. Mist was rising up from the creek. It had covered the parking lot and fairgrounds with a thick fog. I pulled myself together, grabbed my tools, and Puck and I headed over to the Big Eli. Sometimes the boys tried to pamper me a bit, acting like substitute fathers. They had probably decided to let me sleep and do the tear down alone. I wasn’t havin’ none of that.
Still sleepy, I wandered back down the midway toward the back end where the rides sat. The fog was so thick you could barely see your hand in front of your face. It helped a little that the lights were still on which was really weird. Maybe the electrician had gotten sick too. God knows Marx would never let the electricity run like that. Maybe he’d already headed out. The colorful lights created a strange looking glow amongst the fog. It felt eerie.
As I turned down one of the aisles toward the rides, I thought I saw Beau’s hulking figure standing in the row headed the other direction. He looked like he was just standing there between the lemonade stand and the sugar shack. I could not see him clearly in the fog. It looked like he had his back toward me; I only saw his outline. I was about to call out to him when Puck let out a very low and very serious growl. It was a sound I’d never heard him make before. I looked down to see Puck’s ears were flat and his hackles up. Since I spook easily, I was scared.
Beau moved then and walked off in the other direction.
I firmed up my grip on my pipe wrench, and we headed toward the rides. When I got to the Big Eli, I was surprised to see no one was around. The ride was untouched. I stood there trying to decide what to do when I heard someone walking toward me. I could tell by the jingling sound that it was Vella. She always wore anklets with small bells.
“Hey Cricket,” she said. I could tell she was trying to sound cheerful, but she wasn’t hiding her worry very well. She looked ready to go. While she still had her long, curly black hair covered in a scarf, she’d given up her colorful skirt for a pair of jeans and a red embroidered blouse. Kathy at the incense joint had started selling all kinds of imported embroidered shirts and dresses. Vella must have gotten the top there. Any time you saw Vella in jeans and out of “reader” gear, it was time to go.
“Guess no one else is up yet,” I said, looking around. “Well, maybe Beau, but I’m not sure--”
“I’m all packed. When are you heading out?” she asked me.
“I was gonna go hook the truck up now since Red is still snoozin’. He’ll probably be up by the time I’m done. I need to help with the tear down then we’ll head out.”
Vella looked worried.
“What’s wrong?”
“I think we better head out. This flu . . . well, I’m just worried,” she said.
I realized then she was right. If everyone at the bunk was sick, no doubt we’d catch it too if we stayed around much longer. Puck trotted over to her and licked her hand.
“You agree too?” I asked the dog who wagged his tail at me.
“Alright, then. Let’s go check on Mama Rosie, and then we can head out.”
Vella nodded, and we walked back up the aisles to the snake show. Mama was outside. She had just rolled up the awning on the truck which was already running. I could see she was sweating profusely.
“You okay, Mama?” I asked.
She jumped. “Good lord, Cricket. You two scared me. This mist is thick as pea soup. It’s something, ain’t it?
”
“It sure is. Mama Rosie, you don’t look like you’re feelin’ good.”
“Ahh, Crick, you know I ate some shrimp yesterday that had a wang to it. I knew I was gonna be in for a long ride, but I’ll be alright. You two headed out?”
I nodded.
“Alright then, I’ll meet you at the grounds exit.”
“I’m already in the west parking lot too. I’ll walk down with you to your truck,” Vella told me.
Mama Rosie then jumped into her van. With a wave, she pulled the travelling snake show onto the midway grounds and, driving slowly, headed toward the gate.
As Vella and I passed, I noticed that Mr. Iago had also already left. I was glad. The further away he was from me the better.
“I don’t like him either,” Vella said but then stopped and grabbed my arm.
Coming out of the fog, there were about four people moving slowly down the aisle toward us. Just by the way they were walking, you could tell they were up to no good. Again, Puck growled that low, dangerous growl.
I felt like my skin was about to crawl off me. “Thieves?” I whispered to Vella.
“I don’t know, but let’s go,” she whispered and pulled me between the duck pond and the t-shirt joint. We got between the two buildings, and we headed down an aisle when I looked behind us. The figures were now moving faster and coming in our direction.
“Stop a sec,” I whispered to Vella.
“What? No way! Come on,” she replied.
“Vella, your bells,” I whispered to her, pointing to her ankles. The tinkling sound of her bells had echoed through the fog as we fled.
“Dammit,” she swore and quickly kicked the anklets off.
We could see the figures coming closer toward us. For a minute, I thought I saw someone wearing a hat just like Red’s.
Vella pulled me by the arm.
“Wait, is that Red?” I whispered, looking back.
“Wouldn’t Red call out?” Vella replied. “Come on,” she said pulling me again.
We ran between the booths and made our way to the gate. As we snuck through the fairground, we saw lots of people standing around in the fog. That was the odd thing. They were just standing there: not moving, not talking, just standing there. Every muscle in my body was pulled tight. They weren’t thieves. They were something else.
Just as we turned the corner near the high striker at the west gate, we ran into Beau.
“Beau. You alright? There are people all over the grounds. Something weird is goin’ on,” I said.
Vella took two steps back. Puck uttered a growl, showing his teeth.
Beau, who had been standing with his back to me, turned. His face had gone pale white. A strange frothy saliva leaked from his mouth. His chin was covered in blood, and his white t-shirt was also stained red. His eyes were a terrible milk-white color and red shot all through them like you see sometimes in an over-developed egg yolk. I nearly gagged. Beau hissed and then lunged toward me.
“Cricket, look out!” Vella screamed.
I ducked just in time. Beau stumbled over the machine and fell. He got up, slowly, and came at me again. I swiped him across the chin with the pipe wrench. His chin broke and hung slack. He looked at me and lunged again.
Puck jumped between us and growled, momentarily confusing Beau. I lifted the wrench again just in time to see Vella lift the high striker mallet and lower it with a boom onto Beau’s head. His head cracked open and blood ran from his skull and ears.
“Oh my god,” I whispered, my hands shaking.
“Let’s go,” Vella said and we ran toward the gate.
We bolted out of the gate and into the parking lot. I was headed toward my truck when Vella called to me. “No, Cricket, look. There’s no time,” she yelled. She was pointing back at the park. Ambling down the aisle toward the gate were at least a dozen people, all carnie folks we knew, who looked to be in the same condition as Beau. Red was at the front. Blood was smeared across his face. Every one of them looked like they were aiming to kill us. From somewhere in the park I heard a woman scream. It sounded like Mrs. Chapman.
“But the tilt!” I called back.
“No, you’ll never make it!” Vella called. “Come on.”
We both rushed toward her old Ford Bronco sitting just near the gate. Vella slid into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition. Puck and I jumped in. Vella hit the gas, heading toward the fairground exit.
Mama Rosie was parked just inside when we came down to the road. Vella pulled up beside her.
“We’ve gotta get out of here, Mama. The flu got everyone and they are all wild, trying to bite, and I don’t know what. Christ, Beau tried to kill me. Look in your mirror. We’ve got to haul it,” I told her.
I saw Mama Rosie look back to see the deranged looking crew rushing after us. “Oh my lord, let’s go,” she called.
We sped off.
The fairground was located just outside of town. We headed down one of the main streets. I turned on the radio. There was only one station broadcasting and it was playing a recording of cities now under quarantine.
“What the hell is goin’ on?” I said, my eyes tearing up.
“The Tower,” Vella replied. She reached across the truck and opened the glove box, pulling out a map. “We need to get to the interstate,” she said, handing the map to me.
I opened the map and quickly took a look. As we drove, I noticed a couple of cars had pulled over on the side of the road. It looked like people were sleeping inside. I scanned the map and found our location. “Left at the next turn,” I told her. “It’ll take us up to the ramp.”
I set the map down and looked out. There was a car on fire on the road ahead of us. Vella slowed to pass it. In the cow pasture nearby were two figures, a woman and a child, walking slowly.
“You think they’re alright? You think they need help?” I asked Vella.
Vella just stared at them.
I rolled down my window. “Hey, ya’ll okay?” I called.
They turned and looked at us. They too had that strange, sick look, their mouths foaming. They ran toward us.
“Mother Mary,” I whispered.
Vella took off.
I looked back to see that they had run up to the side of Mama Rose’s van, but she was able to pull safely by.
We drove down the road. It took us almost half an hour to get to the interstate on-ramp. When we got there, we found it was completely jammed.
“What do we do now?” Vella asked.
I could see people sitting in their cars: men, women, children. Some men were standing outside their vehicles talking. Many of them were armed. Inside the large SUVS, small T.V. screens played cartoon movies, keeping kids otherwise frightened out of their wits calm. In the distance, I heard gun shots. “We gotta take the back roads,” I told Vella.
“To where?”
“I don’t know, but the more back road it is the better. Go that way,” I said, pointing ahead. “Looks like there is an old country route just ahead a ways.”
I stuck out my arm and waved at Mama to follow us.
We drove down the country road. It was fall and the trees overhead made a canopy of red, yellow, and gold. The road before us was spotted with sunlight. We passed more cars pulled to the side. After we had gone a ways, we turned onto the old country route. It looked like no one had bothered to pave it in years. The trees were low and the road was rough. Vella’s Bronco easily took on the rugged terrain, but I worried about Mama Rosie.
We had been driving for a few hours when we finally came to a fork in the road. We had a choice between two dirt roads. We pulled over and examined the map. The Bronco was low on gas and the small town that was supposed be there wasn’t. Vella’s map seemed to be as old as her Bronco. There was no sign of a town or anything else anywhere. I had wanted to get away from people, but I didn’t want to be in the middle of nowhere. Both roads looked equally country. We knew Mama Rosie’s truck wouldn’t be able to make the haul. She’d hav
e to ride with us.
“Let me go talk her into coming with us,” I said to Vella, opening the door.
“I can move some stuff and fit her in the back.”
“It ain’t her fittin’ I’m much worried about, but I’m thinkin’ she won’t leave her babies.”
Vella nodded. “Well, try to convince her.”
I nodded, and Puck and I hopped out and headed toward Mama’s van.
When I came to the side of the van, Mama wasn’t in the driver’s seat. She must have gone back to check her snakes. I opened the door and called to her. “Mama Rosie?”
She didn’t answer.
I looked down at Puck. He seemed nervous. He never liked Mama’s snakes, and I didn’t blame him. I stepped up into her truck. The cabin door to the van was open. I walked in to see Mama Rosie sitting at the ticket seat at the other end of the van. I also noticed a couple of the pens had been opened.
“Mama, you alright? You got snakes out?” I called.
Mama Rosie didn’t move. Only a little light showed in from the front window and the skylight overhead. Mama’s head hung low.
I took two steps into the van. One of the snakes hissed at me, lunging at its glass cage wall.
“Mama?”
Puck was standing on the driver’s seat in the cab whimpering and dancing around nervously.
When I came up to Mama Rosie, she was still not moving. Her arms and legs hung limply. Her head hung low.
“Mama?” I said, and gently putting my hand on her forehead, I tilted her head back.
Her eyes rolled forward with a flutter. They were milk white. She opened up her mouth and a loud gurgling sound erupted. Two black snakes came slithering from her open mouth. She rose and lunged at me.
Puck started barking loudly.
I ran toward the front of the van, knocking several of the cages down behind me, blocking Mama’s path. As I turned to leave, a snake darted out of in front of me. I jumped sideways and fell into the driver’s seat. Mama Rosie was grunting and pushing at the cages. Puck barked at the snake and chased it out of the van.
I found myself staring down at the driver’s side floor, face to face with one of Mama’s tarantulas. It wandered away. Just then I remembered something. I jabbed my hand under the seat, praying to God no snakes were hidden there, and found Mama Rosie’s handgun.
The Harvesting Page 21