She looks at me, smiles and takes it.
“I’ve always loved the way cotton candy dissolves on my tongue,” Emily says.
I can think of another thing I’d like to put on her tongue.
“Are you enjoying the carnival?”
Emily starts laughing, and I don’t know why. Is she laughing at me or with me?
“What are you laughing at?” I ask.
“You keep telling me to enjoy the carnival.”
“Well, that time I asked you if you were.”
“Same thing,” she says, still laughing.
“So are you?”
“Yes, it’s lots of fun, just like every year.”
“I was hoping this year would be even more fun for you.”
She shrugs, “Maybe a little bit.”
“Only a little bit?” I say, flashing my best get-them-into-bed smile.
“Why can’t you just leave us alone?” the brunette says.
“And why can’t you just let us have a little fun? That’s all this is. No need to get snippy.”
“Don’t worry about Courtney. She’s just jealous you aren’t giving her the cotton candy.”
I turn to the brunette and say, “Courtney, eh. You’re beautiful too.” I pause and turn to the redhead, “You too, Red. What do you say I take you three beautiful ladies for some funnel cakes?”
“Oh my God, funnel cakes are the best thing ever,” the redhead says.
“No thanks,” Courtney says.
I nod and smile at the redhead, and turn to Emily and say, “What about you, Goldie? You’re the tie-breaker, do you want funnel cakes or not?”
She thinks about it, her eyes flitting between her two friends. I catch her blue eyes and hold them, to convince her.
“All right, funnel cakes it is,” she says, and stuffs a piece of cotton candy in her mouth.
“Awesome,” I say, and lead the three of them to the funnel cake hut.
I overhear Courtney tell Emily, “Your dad is going to flip when this gets back to him.”
Fucking ace. There’s nothing better than corrupting the good girls. I could tell from the second I laid eyes on her that she was ripe for the picking. Who else comes to the carnival in a fancy-looking dress like that? Not that I’m complaining. She looks hot. Fucking hot. I can’t wait until I’m ripping it off her and tasting her pussy.
We have to walk down the midway to get to the funnel cake hut. Shitloads of townspeople are looking at me. No doubt wondering what I’m doing with three of the town’s finest young women. Suckers would all be jealous if they knew it’s like this in every town I go to.
“Don’t look now, it’s Connor,” Courtney says.
“Who’s that?” I ask.
“The jerk she used to date,” the redhead says.
“Is that so,” I say, turning to look at her. Emily’s cheeks turn red, and I laugh.
“He’s winning at that game. Look, he has a massive tiger and he’s trading it in to win a giant dolphin.” It’s the Basket Toss, all you’ve got to do is get the baseball in the peach basket. Her ex-boyfriend seems to be cleaning up at it.
“Your ex, you say?” I start to walk to the booth. Time to have a little fun.
“Hey,” I say. “That guy cheated. I saw from out here.” Cess is going to love me for this. It’s a big hit to her wallet when the big prizes are won, since she’s paid on commission.
“Is that so?” Cess says.
“Yeah, he put spin on the ball.” It’s the oldest carny excuse in the book.
“Sorry, sir. No putting spin on the ball.”
“What the fuck? That’s not a rule.”
“Yes, it is,” Cess snaps back.
If anyone can handle herself in a situation like this, it’s Cess. She doesn’t need any more of my help.
“Can you smell them funnel cakes yet?” I say to Emily, returning to the three girls.
“I can’t believe you just did that.”
“Why? Your friend said he was a dick.”
We pass the Balloon Dart and Shoot The Star. The midway is busy. When it’s this busy on a Saturday night, it usually means there’s shit else to do in the town.
A little further down the midway, I notice a boy at the Basketball Toss. He’s maybe five, six, fuck if I know. His age doesn’t matter, he’s young. But he’s holding a basketball and taking aim with a big smile on his face.
The fourth best thing about being a carny is seeing the smiles on kids’ faces. We’re their wonderland, and every weekend I get to bring Christmas to kids in all the little towns in the Carolinas. I’m fucking Santa Claus.
As we get closer, I realize the boy has a broken arm. Duke’s working the booth. I take three big strides to reach the booth and nod at Duke.
He hands me a ball, and I stand beside the kid.
“Hey, buddy,” I say to the kid, “What do ya say we take this shot together? If one of us gets it in, you win a kangaroo.”
The kid smiles hard, and his eyes shine with excitement. He looks at his parents, and they give him their nod of approval.
“Ready?” I say, holding up my ball.
“Yes!” he shouts, holding his ball tight above his head.
“Set,” I say, taking aim.
He stays motionless, waiting for my next word.
“Go!” I say and release my ball.
I put a hard arc on my ball, and it passes through the hoop with a swish. Even though the hoop is oval and the ball over-inflated, I can get it in every time, that’s how much I play it.
The boy’s ball goes up in the air and almost reaches the edge of the hoop.
“High five, buddy, we did it! We won!” I say, and crouch to get a high five off him.
“Yay!”
Duke passes him the stuffed kangaroo. The kid’s got the biggest smile ever, even bigger than before. He high fives me.
“Have fun at the carnival!” I say, and ruffle his hair.
Emily and her friends had stopped to wait for me, watching the whole thing. I don’t feel the need to say anything. I’m still too pumped from making that kid so happy. The smell of the funnel cakes is calling me, and I carry on walking to the funnel cake hut.
They don’t think I can hear them, but you learn to have big ears in this business.
“He just did that to impress you,” Courtney says.
“So what. Do you think I care?” Emily says.
“If you didn’t, you’d take your eyes off his butt,” Courtney says.
“It is a great butt, and there’s nothing wrong with enjoying the view,” Emily says.
That’s why I wear the tight jeans, ladies.
We arrive at the funnel cakes, and I grab three for them from behind the counter. Papa Smurf would dock my ass something awful if he found out, so I don’t risk getting them any of the great toppings. They’re going to have to settle for some sugar on top.
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 swallow 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.”
Carnal: Pierced and Inked Page 3