Hunter (9780698158504)

by Carroll, Michael

  Toward the end of the evening a young woman approached him. She was about eighteen, dressed in jeans, a denim jacket, and cowboy boots, with very short dark hair and large silver hoop earrings. “Hi. Wondering if you can help me?”

  Lance gave her his best smile. “I can, and I will. But first . . .” He reached under the stall for a red heart-shaped balloon. He quickly inflated it from the helium tank, tied it to a string, and handed it to the girl. “This is the only balloon of its kind left, so hold tight. That way I’ll be able to find you among the crowd. Just in case you need me.”

  She smiled. “Thanks. I think.”

  “So, how can I help you?”

  “I saw the news report about the carnival and I was wondering . . . I mean, if you’re not going out of business . . . Do you know if there’s any jobs going here?”

  Lance resisted the urge to say, “If there aren’t, then for you we’ll make a job.” Instead, he said, “I don’t know. You’d need to talk to Morty, the owner. What can you do?”

  “I can cook. I trained to be a chef and I had a job lined up but it sort of didn’t work out. Do you already have a chef?”

  Lance leaned forward on the stall, resting on his elbows. “Nah, we just sort of feed ourselves, mostly. We don’t usually all have a big sit-down meal together. We have barbecues, sometimes, but not often.”

  “Well, if you had a dedicated chef, she could cook for everyone and it’d save a lot of money. It’d save more than enough to cover the cost of paying her.”

  “It’s not a bad idea,” Lance said. “You have your own transport?”

  She nodded. “I’ve got a car. It’s not great, but it mostly works.”

  “That’ll help. Morty’ll be busy right now, but we’re closing up in an hour, so if you can hang around until then, I’ll take you to him.”

  “Thanks.” She smiled again, and Lance decided that it was one of the nicest smiles he’d seen in years.

  He pulled a small card from his shirt pocket and handed it to her. “Now, that’s a free pass. We only get one each to give to our friends, so don’t lose it. If you want to see one of the sideshows or go on a ride, just show it to whoever’s collecting the tickets, and tell them Hunter sent you. That’s me. Hunter Washington, senior layabout in charge of work avoidance.”

  “Great. Thanks again.”

  “So, what’s your name? In case anyone asks?”

  “I’m Josie.”

  “Josie . . . ,” Lance began.

  She rolled her eyes. “Yes, just like and the Pussycats. And yes, I’ve heard that before. A million times.”

  “You know, that’s not what I was going to say.”

  She bit her lip. “Oh, well, sorry. It’s just that everyone says that.”

  “That’s cool. OK, Josie, come find me later and I’ll introduce you to Morty.”

  As the girl was about to walk away, a burly man wearing a sweat-stained T-shirt and a faded baseball cap approached the stall. “Hey, kid . . . Got somethin’ for ya.” He tossed a paper-wrapped fist-size large bundle onto the stall.

  “What do you have here?” Lance asked, though he was sure he knew.

  “Just take it. We’re square?”

  “Depends,” Lance said. “It’s all here?”

  “Yeah. Wayers put in an extra couple hundred.” The man leaned closer to Lance. “I don’t know what you said to him, but he’s a friend of mine and I look out for my friends. Dig? I protect them. So this ends here and now. I hear that you’re takin’ this further, I’ll come back. If that happens, well, the cops’ll never find the bodies. You get what I’m sayin’?”

  Keeping his voice steady, Lance said, “I get it. We’ve no intention of taking it further. We’ve got our money back, Morty’s not seriously harmed, and we know your name and where you live, Justin Newberry. What else is there to discuss? We don’t want trouble from you, and you sure as anything don’t want trouble from us.”

  The man stared at Lance. “Kid, are you threatenin’ me?”

  Lance nodded slowly. “Absolutely.” Don’t blink, he told himself. Stare him down. Don’t blink.

  “Then you either got guts, or you ain’t got brains. No one threatens me and gets away with it.”

  “I do,” Lance said. “Believe me, we can do a lot more damage to you than you can to us. See, we checked you out, Newberry. We know all about you. One call to your parole officer and your ex-wife will get full custody of your kids. Wayers will fire you. Your landlord will throw you out. And then the boys here will track you down and sort you out for good. You think you’re a tough guy? We have a guy here who hammers six-inch nails into his head on a nightly basis. We have another one who can throw knives with pinpoint accuracy wearing a blindfold. So. We let it go here. No more threats, no more actions. Do we have an understanding?”

  The man glared at Lance. “Guess we do.” He strode away into the crowd.

  The girl, Josie, walked back to Lance and said, “That didn’t seem suspicious at all.”

  “If only there were more honest citizens like that guy,” Lance said. “The world would be a better place.”

  Two tiny children came running up to the balloon stall, a boy and a girl, almost identical, both wearing chocolate-smeared smiles. “Can we have two b’loons?” the little girl asked. “Green ones.”

  Lance leaned over the stall to peer down at them. “That depends. Do you have two dollars?”

  The twins looked at each other, then the boy started to fish through the pockets of his shorts. “I has a dime, an’ a nickel, an’ another dime, an’ . . . this button.”

  “Hmm . . . What kind of button is it?”

  “From off of my shirt.”

  “His good shirt,” the girl added. “But you can’t have it ’cos it has to be sewed back on.”

  “Well, the balloons are a dollar each, and you have twenty-five cents. But . . . Wait a second!” He pointed to the little boy. “What’s your name?”

  “Paul.”

  “And your sister?”

  “Susie.”

  “Then it’s your lucky day. For people called Paul and Susie, if they’re brother and sister, there’s a special price for green balloons today. One dime each. How’s that sound? Do we have a deal?”

  The boy eagerly handed his two dimes to Lance. “Can you make one of them a giraffe? I like giraffes.”

  Very much aware that Josie was standing nearby and watching him—and that he was showing off—Lance took his time with the balloons, and even allowed the little girl to change her mind several times over whether she wanted a poodle or a horse. It was all the same to him, because a balloon horse was exactly the same as a balloon dog, the only difference being the animal noises Lance made when he handed it over.

  It was only when the happy children thanked him and wandered away that he glanced in Josie’s direction. “Back already?”

  “I haven’t left. You’re good with the kids.”

  “They’re great at that age. It’s their parents that scare me.”

  • • •

  Lance knocked on the door of Morty’s caravan and walked in without waiting to be asked. Morty was behind his desk, dressed as ever in a vest that showed off his hairy arms and shoulders, peering shortsightedly at a giant ledger. “Whatcha need, Newbie?”

  Lance dropped the bundle of money on Morty’s desk. “It’s all there, plus an extra ten percent.”

  He explained the situation with Wayers, then Morty asked, “We gonna have any more trouble about this?”

  “I doubt it.”

  “Then you did good.” Morty unwrapped the bundle and began flipping through the bills with his meaty fingers. “Nice work.” He peeled off two fifty-dollar bills and handed them to Lance. “You get a bonus.”

  “You sure?”

  “If it wasn’t for you, we’d never have got
anythin’ back. You earned it.”

  “Mary-May did the real work. She was able to confirm that Wayers was behind it.”

  “Then give it to her, if you want. Or share it. Whatever.” He tapped the ledger. “Y’know, we had a pretty good night, all told. Numbers are even a little up from last year—but costs are up too, so we didn’t make as much. Maybe it is time we raised the gate, huh?”

  “I don’t know,” Lance said. “People will be less inclined to come if we charge more to get in. But I know a way we can save money.”

  Morty perked up at that. “Yeah?”

  “If you’ve got a few minutes? I’ve got someone here.”

  “Fire away.”

  Lance leaned back out of the door and called to Josie.

  After twenty minutes of Josie explaining how it would cost less to have her cook for everyone than have them buy their own food, Morty was warming to the idea. “Awright, I’ll give you a few days’ trial. When can you start?”

  “Tomorrow morning. I can go into town and get the basics. But I’ll need a lot of equipment.”

  Morty sucked in air between his clenched teeth. “Expensive. When my pop was runnin’ this place back in the sixties, they had a cook, but when he quit we sold off all the stuff. Tell you what, we’ll start smaller. You hang around for the resta the week, you cook for me an’ Jerry an’ Hunter, a coupla others. If it looks like it’ll work out, we’ll see what happens. How’s that sound to you?”

  Josie nodded. “That sounds good. Thanks, Mr. Ponichtera. I won’t let you down.”

  “Morty. Everyone calls me Morty.”

  “Is it OK if I keep my car here tonight? I don’t have anywhere else to stay.”

  “Yeah, sure. Newbie here’ll be your, whaddayacall, your mentor. Newbie, take her to see Jerry and find a place for her to crash. Figure Tina might be cool with sharin’ for a coupla nights.”

  • • •

  Three weeks after Josie joined the company, on one of their rare evenings off, Lance borrowed a car and they drove to a picnic area next to a wide, reed-rimmed lake. Josie had packed sandwiches and snacks, and they sat on a blanket spread on the grass.

  “So, any regrets?” Lance asked. “About joining us, I mean.” He dipped a corn chip into the plastic tub of homemade salsa.

  “No, it’s been great. It’s hard work, but I’m enjoying it. Thought I’d have more free time, though. I mean, this is the first chance I’ve really had to just unwind. But maybe that’s a good thing, because I was so scared of everyone at first. I’ve been so busy, I haven’t had time to worry about that.”

  Lance lay back, stretched out his legs, and crossed his arms behind his head. As he stared up at the clouds, he said, “You don’t strike me as the sort of person who gets scared easily.”

  “Well, that’s mostly just a front. You know? You can’t let people see that you’re scared. But, yeah, I’m usually pretty nervous, especially around new people. That’s why this is such a big change for me. Until a few weeks ago I didn’t even like going to parties. But then I realized that you can’t be scared forever. I knew I had to leave home and find myself. Take a few chances. I saw the news report about the robbery and I suddenly thought, ‘That’s it. Go for it.’ I’m still not sure it was the right decision, but . . .” She shrugged. “My grandma used to say that you don’t want to find yourself at the end of your life pining about the things you were too scared to try. So here I am, giving it a shot.”

  “I’d say it’s working so far,” Lance said. “So, you lived with your folks?”

  Josie stretched out on the blanket next to him. “Yeah. My sister moved out when she was eighteen—same age as I am now—but she was always much more outgoing anyway.”

  “What about your parents? Didn’t they object when you told them you were running away to join the circus?”

  “Oh yeah. Big-time.”

  Lance turned his head to look at her, and saw that she was looking back. “What did they do?”

  Josie slid a little closer to Lance. “I don’t want to talk about my mom and dad right now.”

  “OK. What do you want to talk about?”

  “You.”

  “There’s not much to tell. Ran away from home and joined the circus. Apparently that’s quite common these days.”

  “Are you seeing anyone?”

  “Not at the moment. We don’t exactly have the sort of life that lends itself to long-term relationships. Hey, you know, some of the guys have lots of girlfriends. I’m not saying who—it’s not my business to spill their secrets—but there’s one of the guys who has a different girl in pretty much every town we visit. How crazy is that? He only sees each of them once a year, for a couple of weeks at most. That’s way too much work.”

  Josie rolled onto her stomach and propped herself up on her elbows, close enough to Lance that he could feel the heat of her body. “What about relationships within the carnival?”

  “Oh yeah, that happens. You know Packo and Trixie? They’ve been married for more than twenty years. They had a clown wedding—Trixie turned up at the church in a car and the doors fell off, and then, like, eighteen other clowns got out. They had it recorded—you should ask them to show you, they’d love that. But, yeah, there’s others. I know that Nigel and Tina hook up from time to time. It’s not really serious, though.”

  Josie made a face. “Tina.”

  “You don’t like her? If you want, I can ask around, see if there’s anyone else looking for a roomie.”

  “No, Tina’s all right, but, well. You know.”

  “No, what?”

  “Well, she’s gorgeous. All the guys are nuts about her. Huh. Bet they wouldn’t be if they knew how much she farted in bed. My bunk’s on the far end of the caravan and I can still hear her tooting away all night long. I have to keep the windows open in case she poisons me to death.”

  Lance laughed. “That’s nothing. I shared with Kevin for a few weeks after I joined. The whole place absolutely reeks of cat pee and air freshener. It’s like a chemical weapons plant in there. I had to beg Masatoshi to let me share with him.”

  Josie looked at him in silence for a moment. “And now we’re talking about cat pee. That’s not what I want to talk about.”

  I know, Lance said to himself. Over the previous weeks Josie had made it clear that she was interested in him, but as much as he liked her smile, Lance just didn’t feel the same way. So far, he’d always managed to change the conversation or deflect her direct questions, but he knew he wasn’t going to be able to keep doing that forever.

  She gave him a slight smile. “So . . . ?”

  “Sew buttons!” Lance shouted.

  Josie giggled. “What are you, eight? Hunter, you’re impossible!”

  “I’m certainly improbable, I’ll give you that.”

  “Why don’t you ever talk about yourself?”

  “I’m a closed book. And the pages are all blank, except for little doodles in the corners, and when you flip the pages, it makes a cartoon of a stick-man jumping up and down on a trampoline.” He sat up. “Hey, I’ll tell you one thing about me, though. When I was a kid, I thought that ‘Trampoline’ was a girl’s name.”

  Josie laughed again, and gently thumped his arm. “Get out.”

  “No, seriously. I was all mixed up. I remember there was some TV show where one woman referred to another one as a tramp, and I thought, ‘Oh, that must be short for Trampoline.’ But, you know, I was a very naïve kid. I wouldn’t eat cornflakes because I thought they were made from chickens. The brand we got at home, there was a chicken on the box. And I thought that a ‘cognito’ was a special kind of car for secret agents, because in spy movies they’d talk about—”

  “Traveling incognito.”

  “Right. Television played a major role in my formative years.”

  “Didn’t watch a lot
of romances, though, did you?”

  “Not unless they had robots or explosions in them, no. I used to think that the only way the guy could get the girl was after he battled at least one monster and ran a stake through a couple of vampires.”

  “Well, there’s other ways.” She moved closer still. “He could pay attention to all the clues the girl is giving him.”

  Lance sighed and gave her a slight smile. “Sometimes it’s the girl who doesn’t pick up on the clues.”

  Josie nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I see that now.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s . . .”

  “It’s not me, it’s you?”

  “It’s neither of us. It’s someone else. I haven’t seen her for years, and I know it’s never going to happen with her, but while she’s still in my head there’s no room for anyone else.”

  “Are you saying never, or just not now?” Josie asked.

  “Never say never. But right now . . . is not a good time. If it means anything, you’re pretty high on the list.”

  “Then tell me about the girl who’s got the top spot. Who am I in competition with?”

  Lance shook his head. “I can’t talk about her. She’s . . .” He trailed off. He couldn’t think of how to finish the sentence.

  Josie said, “You’re a good catch, Hunter. She’s a fool if she can’t see that.”

  “She’s not a fool,” Lance said, and surprised himself with the abruptness of his tone. “Sorry, didn’t mean it to come out like that.” He gave Josie another smile. “You know, I’m beginning to suspect that there’s a slight possibility that I’m not over her yet.”

  “Really. I’d never have guessed. Just tell me this . . . Is it ever going to happen with her, or is that another ‘just not right now’ thing?”

  “Good question. If I’m honest, I’d say it’s not going to happen. No amount of wishing is going to change things.”

  “So get over her. You owe yourself that.”

  “I will. One day. Until then . . . friends?”

  “Wait, you’re giving me the ‘we can still be friends’ approach? It’s supposed to be the girl who does that to the guy.”