The Summer of Cotton Candy

by Viguié, Debbie

  Of course, Candace didn’t get enough rest that night because once Tamara got home they were up IMing half the night. She barely spoke five words to Becca the next morning when she dropped off Candace’s muffin and picked up her cotton candy. Candace dropped the muffin bag on her counter, but before she could put it away, she had actually fallen asleep on her feet.

  Candace yelped, startled when a hand fell on her arm, waking her up. She tottered and nearly fell over, but caught herself on the cart. Megan stared at her wide-eyed. Candace was instantly relieved to see that it was Megan and not Lisa who had caught her so unaware.

  “Sorry,” Megan said.

  “No, my bad. What’s up?”

  “I was just wondering if you would be willing to trade shifts with me on Monday? I work the closing shift, but my friend’s playing in a concert and I’d like to go see it.”

  “Monday, closing shift? Okay, sure.”

  “Thank you so much! If you ever need to switch shifts, just let me know.”

  “Okay,” Candace said, nodding as she came fully awake. “Do I need to do anything?”

  “No, I’ll put in the form. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I’ll leave you to your… Zoning?”

  “Very funny. I like that. See you, Megan.”

  Candace watched as Megan took off. Just then, she noticed a group of seven referees who seemed to be bearing down on Candace. They were wearing the striped olive green shirts of the Exploration Zone. She looked at their faces and realized none of them looked happy. She turned around to see if there was something behind her that had caught their attention, but there was nothing, just her.

  “I’m popular today,” she said to herself.

  They came to a stop in front of her. One man took an extra step forward, as if designating himself the leader. They all gave her hard looks, and she began to feel like she was some old-time rustler and they were the angry posse.

  “Can I help you?” she asked at last.

  “You’re Candy?” the man out front, Gib by his name tag, asked.

  “Yes,” she replied, not bothering to correct the shortening of her name.

  Everyone began to murmur at that. His eyes focused for a moment on something other than her, and he took a quick step forward and snatched the Muffin Mansion bag off her cart.

  “Care to explain this?” he asked.

  Candace crossed her arms. “Why should I?” she asked.

  “It’s just that I’ve never seen you in the Muffin Mansion,” he said. “I think I’d remember seeing a cotton candy operator in there.”

  Once again, the group behind him began to murmur, and several bobbed their heads up and down.

  “It’s true, I’ve never been in there,” she said.

  “Then how did you come to be in possession of this?” he asked, waving the bag under her nose. “And don’t bother lying, because we already know the truth.”

  The group parted down the middle to reveal a woman in the back, about ten years older than Candace. Her hair was falling down from a bun at the back of her head. There were several fresh scratches covering her face, and her shirt had been torn. In her hands were the remnants of a cotton candy stick. It was squashed and torn in places, and one long tendril of spun sugar swung free and hung down to her knees.

  “I got it from Becca.”

  “And in exchange?” Gib prompted.

  She tried desperately to figure out what he was getting at, even as she couldn’t take her eyes off the woman holding the crushed cone. “I gave her cotton candy.”

  The whole group lurched forward a step at that, causing Candace to hastily retreat farther behind her cart.

  Gib’s eyes were blazing and he fixed her with his glare. “Becca is allergic to sugar. It makes her hyper and a little bit crazy. Everybody in this park knows not to give her any. Especially not cotton candy, which is her favorite.”

  “We’ve suspected for the last couple of weeks,” the woman in the back said, eyes wide and frightened-looking. “We couldn’t prove it, though.”

  “She was starting to get that little extra bounce to her step,” another man spoke up.

  “And yesterday we caught her hopping. Hopping, hopping, always hopping,” another spoke up.

  “And then we knew,” Gib said. “So we laid a trap and we caught her. Poor Ruth there took the brunt of it.”

  The woman with the cotton candy nodded miserably.

  “What have you done to Becca?” Candace whispered.

  “I wouldn’t worry about her. I would concern yourself with what we’ll do to you if you ever give her cotton candy again,” Gib said, his voice low and threatening.

  They all took a step closer just as Candace found her panic button and pushed it. To her dismay when the security guard arrived seconds later, he was alone. His eyes swept her and the angry group facing her, and his hand went to his radio. Apparently even the security guards had panic buttons.

  He stepped over so that he was standing next to Candace. His eyes flitted back and forth seeming to take in everything. Finally he turned to her. “You didn’t give Becca sugar, did you?”

  And suddenly, he was no longer standing beside her, her rescuer, but rather standing with her accusers.

  “I didn’t know!” she wailed. “Nobody told me.”

  “You mean you would have us believe that nobody told you to watch out for Becca?” Gib asked.

  “People told me that, but they never told me what that meant. And then when I met her she was really nice.”

  “And you never once thought to ask?”

  “I —”

  At that moment the rest of the cavalry arrived. There were fifteen guards surrounding them all in a circle, each bigger and tougher looking than the last.

  “No, okay, I never asked why people told me to watch out for Becca. I’ve been kind of busy with problems of my own. I know now, thank you, I won’t give her any more cotton candy. Okay?”

  Gib stared at her through squinted eyes as if trying to measure her up. Finally he asked, “Do we have your word on that?”

  “Yes, you do. No more cotton candy for Becca.”

  He nodded as though satisfied, and just like that the standoff was over. The group moved away, along with most of the security guards. The lead guard, though, stepped close to Candace. “You actually gave Becca cotton candy?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You realize that that’s like dumping blood into shark-infested waters before going in for a swim, right?”

  “How was I suppose to know? She seemed so nice!”

  “She is nice. Sweetest thing in the world, except when it comes to sugar. She’s going to be back looking for more. You see her, hit the button and we’ll come help.”

  Candace shook her head. This was all ridiculous. “Seriously, how much trouble can she be?”

  “Last year during Scavenger Hunt, she got into a jar of Jelly Bellies and began to run amok. It took five of us to bring her down.”

  “You’re kidding!”

  “Wish I was. I’ve still got the scars to prove it,” he said ruefully before walking off.

  “Insane,” Candace muttered to herself as she watched him go. “Everyone who works here is completely insane. And I will be too if I don’t get out of here soon.”

  17

  Candace had the house to herself for the weekend when her parents decided to take a spontaneous trip. They left Saturday and weren’t due back until Tuesday. Tamara and Candace spent most of the weekend catching up and even caught a matinee early Monday before Candace had to go to work — thanks to taking Megan’s closing shift. To celebrate her first time having to work closing, Kurt was taking her out to dinner afterwards.

  It only took Candace one night to discover that she didn’t like working the closing shift. During the height of summer, The Zone closed at midnight on weekends and eleven on week-nights. The food carts were open half an hour later so people could gra
b their last snack on the way out of the park. Then she had to walk her cart to its area behind the Exploration Zone where it was stored. Since it was Monday, she wouldn’t be off work until about ten minutes to midnight. The good news was Denny’s was always open.

  Everything was going according to plan until it was time to walk the cart to storage. The time came and went, and the cart didn’t move. She walked all around it, trying to figure out what was wrong. In the mornings the cart started on its own, and she walked beside it as it left storage. She had assumed that it would do the same when it was time to shut down. It was quiet, though, and the motor never started its whirring. Finally she managed to get the intercom working.

  “Um, yeah, this is Candace with cart five, and we’re not moving anywhere.”

  “Candace, hold on and someone will come to you,” a voice came back.

  “Okay, great,” she said.

  She waited, glancing around the park. All the players had finally gone, and the last of the referees waved to her as they walked to the exit. She had been in the park before opening, but there was always a lot of hustle and bustle. Cleaning and maintenance crews worked from six until the park opened, and refs were always milling about.

  Now, though, everything seemed so barren. It gave her the creeps. She glanced at her watch. It was twelve fifteen. She was already fifteen minutes late to meet Kurt in the Locker Room.

  “Come on, hurry up, I’m starving,” she complained, as though that would somehow speed someone her way. After another five minutes had passed, she used the intercom again.

  “Hello, this is Candace with cart five, and we’re still waiting over here in The Extreme Zone.”

  This time there was no answer. “Hello?” she tried again. “Hello? Anyone listening? If so, this isn’t funny. I’d like to get out of here.”

  Only silence greeted her.

  Great, now what am I supposed to do? Can I just leave the cart here? Maybe it will still be here when I get back in just a few hours. Or maybe it will have fixed itself by then, or they’ll finally have gotten someone over here to take a look at it.

  She looked around and realized that now, not only could she not see anybody else, but she couldn’t hear anything either. During the day there was always so much noise from people laughing, talking, and screaming on the rides. Then there was the background music and the noise of the rides themselves. Now there was nothing, just silence.

  “Okay, this is getting creepy.”

  Suddenly she saw a lone figure approaching, and she waved. “Over here. The cart is broken.”

  “Candace? You okay?”

  She recognized Kurt’s voice with relief.

  “I’m fine, but the cart’s broken. They said they were sending someone to fix it. That was several minutes ago, though, and now no one’s answering on the radio.”

  “I got worried when you didn’t show. I came to see if you were okay.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “What do you think I should do? Should I leave it?”

  “Let me see if I can go find someone,” Kurt said. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Hurry,” she said.

  It seemed like forever, but it was only about ten minutes before he returned. He had a strained look on his face.

  “We’ve got a little problem.”

  “They’re not coming to fix the cart?” she asked.

  “Um. It’s a bit bigger problem.”

  “What?”

  “It looks like we’re the only two people here and we’re locked in.”

  She burst out laughing. “That’s a good one.”

  “Not kidding. Really locked in.”

  “Okay. Not laughing. Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, pretty sure.”

  She left the cart and headed for the cast exit at a run. Kurt ran beside her. When she got there she saw that the gates were all closed and padlocked shut. She shook one experimentally, but it didn’t budge. She took off and headed for the front of the park where she checked both the exit gate and the entrance turnstiles. Everything was locked up tight with gates across them.

  That only left the emergency exit at the back of the park. She ran there too, afraid of what she’d find.

  “Locked! All of them!” she cried, shaking the gate that stood between her and freedom. “We’re totally trapped.”

  “Looks like it,” he said.

  “There’s got to be some way out,” she said. “Someone we can call.”

  “I don’t know. Mascots never work closing shifts.”

  “Do you have your cell phone at least?”

  He shook his head. “I left it charging in the car.”

  “Mine’s in the Locker Room.” Kurt followed her as she ran there next. The door was closed, and when she grabbed it, she found that it, too, was locked.

  “How could they lock the Locker Room?”

  “Probably for security. Lots of people leave stuff in there permanently. If you’ve got an idea of who we can call, we can use one of the pay phones and call collect.”

  “My parents are out of town. What about yours?”

  “They live like five hours away. I room with four other mascots who were all going to some party tonight.”

  “No help there. We could call the police.”

  “And tell them what? We’re stuck in the theme park? I’m not sure they’d have any better idea of who to call than we would.”

  A thought occurred to her. “Do you have Josh’s number memorized?”

  “No.”

  That left only Tamara. Surely she could help her figure a way out of the park. They went to the nearest pay phone and Candace called her collect.

  “Why on earth are you calling me collect?” Tamara asked, sounding tired and bewildered.

  “Because I can’t get to my phone. I need help. I’m locked inside The Zone.”

  “Oh my! You’re all by yourself?”

  “No, Kurt’s with me. It’s just the two of us, and we’ve tried every exit.”

  “You’re trapped inside the theme park with Kurt,” Tamara said, sounding instantly more awake.

  “Yes.”

  “Candace, I know I’ve been a bad friend all summer. But I’m going to make that all up to you right now.”

  “Thank you,” Candace said, relief flooding through her.

  “I’ll tell you what I’m going to do.”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m going to hang up the phone and go back to sleep.”

  “What?”

  “You’re trapped somewhere cool with the guy you’re crazy about. There’s nothing more romantic than that. Trust me, you’ll thank me later. Call me in the morning when you get out and tell me all about it.”

  There was a click as Tamara hung up the phone. Candace just stood for a moment, staring at the receiver in her hand before hanging it up. “She’s not going to help,” she said.

  “I heard,” Kurt said, sounding strangled.

  She turned and saw that he was laughing. She punched him in the arm, but it didn’t stop him. “How can you be laughing?”

  “I just realized. Whenever I came here as a kid I fantasized about all the things I would do if I could manage to hide out until the park was closed. I would make a game out of figuring out where I would sleep — the whole thing. And now’s it actually happened, and all we can think of is how to get out.”

  He laughed harder, and after a minute Candace joined in. He was right. They were living the dream of thousands, maybe millions. They made movies about this sort of thing — spending the night in stores, museums, train stations. What better place than a theme park?

  “Well, if you don’t mind pure sugar, I know where we can get something to eat,” she said, pointing in the direction of her broken-down cart.

  They actually managed to do a little better than that. Over where the carts were stored they discovered that whoever ran the beef jerky cart had neglected to lock the food storage bin properly. They dined on beef jerky and cotton candy and wash
ed it all down with water from one of the water fountains.

  With a full stomach, things began to look up for Candace. Now that she wasn’t alone, the silence of the park also seemed magical. It was like an entirely different world where giant monsters slept and darkened buildings lay waiting for their treasures to be discovered.

  Kurt took her on a full guided tour of the History Zone, pointing out things that she had never noticed or never fully appreciated the significance of.

  “Do you know how many chairs there are in Poor Richard’s Pub?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Fifty-six. One for each signer of the Declaration of Independence.”

  “That’s cool.”

  “Yeah, history is awesome. Especially here in The Zone where they blur the lines between fact and fantasy.”

  They sat down on a bench facing the carousel. She could totally see Kurt teaching history to kids. He clearly had a passion for the subject. She wondered if he had ever thought about it. It would give him something to strive for, certainly something to go back to school for.

  “Am I boring you?” he asked, suddenly.

  “No, no. I like hearing you talk.”

  “Yeah, but you’re thinking about something else. What is it?”

  “Well, history is cool and everything,” she said. “I guess I just spend more time thinking about the future.”

  “Oh, like what’s going to happen to the human race? Global warming and space travel and is there life out there?”

  “No, not that, I mean my future. Where I’m going to college, what kind of career I’m going to have, that sort of stuff.”

  “Oh. You know, I try not to think about that kind of stuff. Live in the moment, that’s what I say.”

  “That’s nice, but don’t you need to have a sense of where you’re going?” she prompted.