Speaking of the devil, I see Papa Smurf’s stupid red hat coming down the midway. Time to get my ass back to work before he busts my balls about slacking off.
“Sorry, ladies, I have to get back to the rides.”
“No apology necessary,” Courtney says. Bitch.
“So, Goldie, remember what I said earlier, come find me at close.”
One side of her mouth turns up in a half smile, and she says, “Thanks, but I’ve got to get home.”
Wasted Years
(Emily)
When we get to my house, I open the door of Courtney’s Mazda and start to get out.
“Em?” Courtney says tentatively.
“Yeah?”
“Promise me you won’t go to that thing Steel invited you to.”
“Why would I do that? He’s a carny. With a neck tattoo. Give me a break, I have standards.”
“It was just the way you looked at him is all,” Courtney says.
“Nothing wrong with looking at a hot body,” Maddie says.
“Exactly,” I say, laughing. “Look, but don’t touch.”
“And don’t let him touch you,” Courtney adds, finally laughing.
“See yas,” I say, and shut the door to her car.
As I walk to my front door, I glance up at the house. I wonder if I’ll ever live in such a big house again after I move out. I’ll never make the kind of money needed if I’m only ever my father’s office manager. Unlike my brothers. They’ll easily be able to afford our six-bedroom house plus pool once they have several dealerships of their own. Being a girl sucks ass. Why shouldn’t I get the same as them?
I march into the kitchen, and get myself a can of cream soda. Drink in hand, I flop on the couch and flick the TV on.
At eleven on the dot, my phone rings. My mother’s photo appears on the screen and I roll my eyes. I’m twenty years old, and she’s checking up on me. What are the chances she’s phoned Cody to check up on him? He’s not home yet, but he’s never home by eleven.
“Hi, Mom.” My jaw is tight with tension.
“Hi, honey, just phoning to make sure everything’s okay.”
“Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Well, you know, just making sure.”
“Have you checked up on Cody?”
There’s silence for a moment before she says, “No, why would I do that?”
“Um, maybe because he’s younger than me.”
“Well, he knows how to take care of himself.”
“And I don’t?”
Her sigh blasts through the phone. There’s a rustling noise. She must be covering the mic so I can’t hear what she’s saying to my father.
“Honey,” my father is now on the phone. “Remember, don’t do anything stupid.”
Where is this even coming from? Has someone texted them about their daughter talking to a carny tonight? I hate being from a small town. How stupid do they think I am? Why don’t they trust me?
My insides are so swelled with rage, I throw my empty soda can across the room. Some droplets fly out. So what.
“And why would I do that, Dad?”
“Emily, you have to remember what my reputation means in this town. Do not do anything to risk my reputation.”
Seriously? Not, because I love you and don’t want you to get hurt? All that matters is your reputation.
Through gritted teeth, I say, “Don’t worry, Dad, I know how important your reputation is.” More important than me.
“Good, because if you do anything stupid, I’m the one who pays the price.”
What does that even mean?
“Good night,” I say and end the call. You know, right now, for once in my life, I really want to do something stupid. I’ve been good and behaved all the way through my teen years, and now, as a twenty year old, I’m still being treated as a child.
Now I understand that’s why teens rebel in the first place — so their parents get the message that they’re not little kids anymore. Somehow it seems I never gave my parents that message. Maybe now is the time to do that, regardless of what it does to my father’s precious reputation. If it matters so much, he should go live in a big city, where every little thing he or his daughter does isn’t known by every last person in town.
You know what? Fuck this shit. There, I said it. And if I swear, you know it’s a big deal. Like, a really, really big deal.
But I’ve had enough of being treated like a child. I am a grown-up.
And for the first time in my life, I’m going to prove I am my own person.
I grab the keys to my Toyota Corolla and head out the door. My dad owns Toyota and GM dealerships, and gave me the car for my high school graduation present.
When I start the car, another thought occurs to me. I’m twenty, and I drive a Corolla. It’s like I’m middle aged or something. It’s all so boring. My life is so sterile.
My entire life is laid out in front of me, before I even live it.
It only takes a few minutes to drive back to the park where the carnival is being held. I mean, our town is so small anywhere to anywhere is only a two-minute drive.
The carnival closed at eleven, which was ten minutes ago. I park my car right in front of the gate and get out.
The ticket gate is shut. All the Lions Club people have gone home, which is a relief.
They’ve put temporary metal fencing around the carnival, and it’s now shut and locked. There are still lots of carnies inside. I assume they have to count up and shut down their booths or whatever.
I’m not sure what to do, but the anger inside me is still just as raging as it was when I hung up the phone. I walk along the fence, in the direction of the rides.
It’s funny seeing the carnival like this, empty of people but still with all the lights on and workers. It’s almost eerie.
I walk until I see the Tilt-a-Whirl, and spot a carny looking at me.
“Hey, Steel, you got a visitor,” the man yells.
My heart races at his words. Am I really going to do this? Hang out with some carny? I can’t forget my reputation.
That thought clarifies everything. I latch my fingers onto the fence and wait, the fence half holding me up. My heart still pounds against my ribcage.
“Hey, Goldilocks, I knew you’d come,” Steel says, jogging toward the fence. His amazing smile both puts me at ease and makes my heart pound faster. When our blue eyes connect, I feel that same unfamiliar feeling I felt earlier. I don’t know what it is, maybe excitement?
“Am I too late for the party?” I gesture to the fence.
“No, I’d say you’re right on time. Come this way,” he says, pointing in the direction away from the entrance.
We walk along the fence, Steel on the inside and me on the outside. Our pace is slow, set by me. I am doing this. Am I doing this? Yes, he’s a carny, but what better way to send my parents a message?
What stronger message can you send than losing my virginity to a carny? He’s the hottest guy who’s ever stepped foot in this town. Even with the neck tattoo, not to mention all those other arm tattoos. And the pec tattoos. My parents won’t be able to deny it anymore. I am an adult.
Steel trails his finger along the metal bars of the fence, and I walk with my hands folded in front of me. He’s looking at me, and I’m looking at my feet.
It may have been warm enough earlier in this evening for this dress, but there’s a chill in the air now and I regret not throwing on jeans and a sweater.
“How much longer do you have to work for?” I ask.
“Now that you’re here, I’m done.”
“You sure do seem to have flexible work hours.”
“That’s because I’m a foreman.”
“Oh, and that lets you work half time?”
“It does when Papa Smurf isn’t busting my ass.” I glance over at him, my eyebrows knitted together. He catches my eyes and holds them. I forget to put my foot in front of me and carry on walking.
I swa
llow under the intensity of his gaze, and say, “Papa Smurf?”
“The owner,” Steel says. His smile spreads impossibly wider. How does a carny get so damn good looking?
Stargazer
(Steel)
Emily and I stand still, looking at each other through the fence. How fucking long is this fence? If it wasn’t between us now, I would pull her to me and hold her in my arms.
I step forward and reach my hands above my head. Grabbing tight, I pull myself up, get a toe-hold and manage to get one leg over the top in one smooth movement.
When I land on the ground beside her, Emily’s eyes are popping wide out of her pretty head.
“That fence was pissing me off,” I say.
Emily bursts out laughing, relaxing her crossed arms to her sides.
When the carnival was in its full, noisy swing, I didn’t realize how amazing her laugh sounds. Now that it’s quiet, I want to hear more of it. To let it fill the silence around us.
“You’re like a monkey who’s just escaped from the zoo,” she says.
“Sometimes it feels like I live in a zoo.”
“You live in a carnival, isn’t that pretty much the same thing?”
“Yep. Come on,” I grab her hand and pull her along the fence.
We’re almost at a jog when we reach the carny entrance. Emily halts when she sees it, her feet suddenly seemly stuck in cement. The smile’s gone, and her face is as frozen as her feet.
She’s probably never seen anything like it before. But it’s only a shitload of trailers and a few tents in a field. And some people drinking and smoking weed.
Shit, she really is as innocent as she looks.
“How do you fancy a ride on the Ferris wheel? Just the two of us,” I say, putting my arm around her back to turn her eyes away from the camp. I don’t want her to feel scared.
“Sounds fun. Is it still on?”
“On? Oh, yeah, I have the key.”
She looks at me and smiles. “You hop on first, and I’ll get you up there.”
“What about you?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll come join you.”
I guide her into the waiting car and latch the door shut.
“Bon voyage,” I say, tipping a pretend hat.
“What happened to enjoying the carnival with you?”
“Don’t worry, Goldie.”
Taking three big strides, I reach the control panel and turn the Ferris wheel on, but leave the lights off. Don’t want to attract anyone’s attention. When Emily’s car gets near the top, I turn it off.
Damn, I wish I had a couple of beers with me. Instead, I grab the extra fleece we keep by the controls, and tie it around my waist.
With a firm grip on the strut, I start monkeying my way up the wheel. When I reach the top, I notice Emily’s been watching me climb.
“How long did it take for you to learn how to do that?” She asks when I hop into the car.
“Not near as long as it took me to run along the wall of the Gravitron,” I say, crouching with one hand holding the plastic umbrella.
“Shut up! While it’s moving?”
“Of course while it’s moving. How else could I run along a wall? I can dance and do other tricks in it too.”
“I’d have to see it before I believe that.”
“Maybe later, we’ll see. Cold? I brought you a fleece, but it might stink.” I take the fleece from my waist and pass it to her.
“Thanks,” She takes it and, using her fingertips, lays it over her bare legs. Damn, I was enjoying the view of them. They’re crazy long, and I can’t wait to have them wrapped around my waist.
I take the seat beside her and prop my feet up on the seat across from us. I pull her tight against me, my arm slipped around her waist. Emily is tense, her arms crossed over her chest. Is she scared or cold?
“Everything okay?” I pull her closer against me.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Just want to make sure you’re enjoying yourself.”
“Yeah, it’s nice up here when it’s quiet like this. I can even see my house from here.”
“Oh yeah. Where?”
“It’s that one, with the blue spotlights on it.” She points to where the rich houses are. Can’t say I’m surprised. She screams rich person vibe.
“You sure have a nice house.”
“My parents do, I still live at home.” Figures.
“We could see the stars if the plastic umbrella wasn’t in the way,” I say.
“That’d be nice. We could just lie back and look at them, in our little spot away from everyone else.”
“The best place I ever seen stars was in this piss-assed town in the Outer Banks. There were so many stars, the sky looked white.”
“That sounds amazing. I’d love to see something like that.”
“Don’t your parents take you on fancy trips or anything?”
“When I was younger they took me to Paris and New York, and often to Orlando. Never anywhere you can see loads of stars. But as soon as my brothers and I got old enough to leave at home, they always vacation by themselves. They now do everything by themselves.”
“What the fuck? They should be using their money to show you the world.”
“You must’ve been all over.”
“Forty-one states so far. We go different places every year, depending on where Papa Smurf gets us a pitch.”
“So you live in a trailer all year?”
“No, I live in a part of a trailer. It’s a bunkhouse.”
“Sounds small.”
“I got a bed and a shower, that’s all I need.” She’s shivering, “You still cold?”
“Freezing.”
Emily leans into me. She’s shaking, but I still don’t know if it’s cold or if she’s scared.
I pull her crossways onto my lap and wrap my arms around her. Emily’s scent fills my nose when I put my head against hers. She smells better than a funnel cake, like roses.
“My parents would freak if they knew where I was right now.” Of course they would, all parents freak when they find out their daughter’s with a carny.
“What about you? Are you freaking?” I want her to relax and stop shaking.
Emily looks at me, her eyes moving all over my face before stopping on my neck.
“This isn’t something I do every day,” Her eyes are still stuck on my neck.
“As long as you’re having fun and enjoying yourself, who cares if you do it every day or not? That doesn’t matter. I hate my days being the same. That’s why I love being in the carnival.”
“You’re not going to tell me why you joined the carnival, are you?”
“Nope.” And I make no apologies about it, either.
Emily still hasn’t moved her eyes from my neck. She’s staring at the tattoo that goes up the right side.
“Something on your mind?”
“What made you get a neck tattoo?”
I shrug, “Same reason I got all my other tattoos.”
She runs her fingers over the tattoos on my arms and says, “You sure have a lot of them.”
“I’ve got lots more than the ones you can see right now.”
“Are you legs covered in them too?”
“Yeah, I got lots on my legs.” I don’t think Emily’s ready to hear where else I have one. I’ll let her discover that one for herself later. “What about you, got any?”
“God, no, my family would freak. But I’ve always wanted a little rose on my hip.”
“So get one, how would they ever know? Just put it under your bikini.”
“You don’t understand, this is a small town. If one person found out, everyone would know. And then my parents would freak.”
“I thought you said you were twenty.”
“I am.”
“So who cares if your parents freak?”
I’m a Rebel
(Emily)
Yeah, that’s why I’m here tonight. This is a statement. My parents need to learn I
’m an adult. Maybe I should get that tattoo.
“Did your parents freak when you got your tattoos?”
“I ain’t got no parents.”
That’s awful, I wonder how they died? I feel bad now.
“Sorry,” I say. I wonder if that’s why he joined the carnival. It must be.
“Nothing to be sorry about. My family is all down in the camp right now.”
“Your relatives are in the carnival too?”
“No, but my family is.”
“You guys must all be really close, living and working together all the time.”
“One of the best things about this job, when I don’t want to smash their faces in.”
“What’s the best thing about being a carny?”
“Meeting you.”
I roll my eyes at the line he’s feeding me, and say, “Other than me.”
“Seeing the looks on the kids’ faces. Like that kid tonight at the Basketball Toss.” Steel shrugs.
“Courtney says you were just doing that to impress me.”
“Fuck her. Sometimes I get really fed up with townies judging me just because of their opinions of my job. I love putting a smile on a kid’s face.” He pauses. “To impress you, I screwed your ex-boyfriend out of his pride.”
“Connor didn’t break the rules?”
“He broke the rule of being a prick.”
“Yeah, but that’s not a rule of the game.”
“Sure it is, that’s the only rule of the game.”
“So you only did that to impress me?”
“That and show you my abs.”
“I was impressed with your abs,” I say, sliding my hands under his shirt. Man, he’s warm, and ripped. But oh so warm. I slide as much of my arms under his shirt as I can, to try to ease my icy skin.
We talk for ages, although I haven’t managed to find out his real name, or why he joined the carnival.
It must be after one by now. All the houses are dark, and the only light on in town is the McDonald’s sign. Although the carny party in their camp sounds like it’s still in full swing.
My arms are freezing, and every so often I move them deeper into his shirt. He wraps more and more of his body around mine, giving me as much warmth as he can. It feels good. He feels good. I’m afraid to complain about the cold because I don’t want to go back to the reality of the ground.
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