by Al K. Line
"We want guns, you got any?"
"Um, no, no guns, just knives, swords and such," said Kyle, trying to hide his mace behind his back.
"Okay, how about gear, got any more of that stuff?" said the ticketmaster, pointing at Kyle's stabproof t-shirt.
"A couple, and maybe a few other odds and ends. Look, this is weird, if we pay you does that mean everything inside is free?"
"Not bloody likely, this is to get in and for the rides. If you want food or to play any games then you need to take that up with the peeps running the stalls," said the gatekeeper condescendingly, as if they were idiots for not knowing this. "Tell you what, you give me that vest and the dog and we can call it quits." He looked appreciatively at Bos Bos. Who doesn't love a nice doggie?
"No way dude, you can't go giving your pets away," protested Kyle.
"Pets? I don't want a pet," he said, licking his lips and sizing up Bos Bos' ample behind.
"Then definitely no way," said Ven, stepping in front of Bos Bos, who was trying to sidle up to the man as he smelled of fried onions.
Negotiations went on for some time.
In the end they gave the man a stabproof vest, two tins of Spam, and a jar of Marmite, which he genuinely swore he loved more than anything in the world ever. Takes all sorts.
They loaded up their backpacks with items they thought they could do without if the food seemed worth the barter and parked up Basil bus inside the perimeter fence.
###
"I am thinking that now I feel sick," said Al, who was a very unbecoming shade of green and swaying from side to side.
"Get a grip Al, you went on the bloody dodgems, not a rollercoaster or anything. It's the hot-dogs, I told you not to eat seven, it's just greedy," said Ven, totally without sympathy for the green giant.
"But they were only being small and tiny little things, and anyway, Kyle there he ate five so it wasn't just me that is being greedy."
"Yeah, but I'm not complaining about feeling ill am I? Plus why did you have to go and give away a perfectly good knife just to get some extra onions..."
Ven zoned them out as she stood next to the dodgems and took a proper look around at the fairground. The whole thing didn't sit right — there was something altogether spooky about the complete set-up. Something was definitely wrong. She simply couldn't figure out what it was yet. It was all too surreal to begin with. A funfair was messing with the whole zombie armageddon vibe.
She shook herself back to the present, determined to just enjoy herself. Whatever it was that was bugging her would make itself known sooner or later. Best not to try to force the issue, it would surface when it was good and ready.
Once Al was slightly less green around the gills they made their way over to the coconut shy. The grand prize was a large pink elephant, and Al wanted it. As a present for Tomas apparently, although Ven had her doubts about the truth of it.
"Roll up, roll up, belt down jist tree cocunuts an' win yerself a prize. Show us 'oy strong yer are an' yer cud be de jammy winner the-day," sang out the stall owner, fast and excitably.
"What did he say," asked Kyle.
"No idea," said Ven.
"Huh?" asked Al.
"Oi said if yer belt tree down den yer win de prize. Yer want a go or na?"
"What does he mean belts? Trees? I can't understand a word," said Kyle.
All three of them were at an utter loss, and Al was itching to show just how good he was at knocking coconuts off stands.
"Luk, it's simple. Yer buy tree bals an' den yer belt de cocunuts av de stands. So, waaat chucker yer 'av ter barter for a go den," said the man greedily, eyeing up their backpacks and licking his lips.
"Ah, got it, I think," said Ven, understanding dawning. "I think he wants to barter something so we can buy three balls and have a go. Go on then Al, what yer goin' ta uffer fur da chance ta win dat elephant?"
Kyle just looked at her, vibing her to shut up before they got kicked out.
Al rummaged around in his bag, pulling out what looked suspiciously like Ven's Meega O'Donnel designer baseball cap.
"Oi, that's mine," she shouted at Al.
"What? This?" asked Al innocently. "I have been finding it by the accident on the bus, and you have not been ever doing the wearing of this hat Ven," admonished Al, trying to turn the tables on his light-fingered thieving.
"Fine, whatever," sulked Ven.
"I would be wanting to hit the coconuts with the balls that I will be throwing very hard and winning please," said an excitable Al. "I will be giving a hat to barter for the balls so I will be winning the elephant... for Tomas," said Al, pointing at the baby.
"Waaat did yer man say? I'm not swappin' a go at de elephant for a sprog. Is yer man a madman?" said a confused stall holder. "Is yer man bein' Dutch or somethin'?"
"What did he be saying?" asked Al.
"No idea," shrugged Kyle, getting totally confused. Did the man want the baby for a go at the prize?
Ven just rolled her eyes. This could take some time.
It did.
35 minutes later, one baseball cap, three sandwiches and a pack of roast peanuts lighter Al was the proud winner of an oversized stuffed pink elephant which he held onto for safekeeping for Tomas. So he said.
"Right, what's next then," asked Kyle.
"How about we try and hook the ducks?" offered up Ven.
They wandered over to a large circular gazebo. A waist height circle of 3 inch deep water had countless plastic yellow ducks bobbing around, each with a deceptively easy to snag hook coming out the top. The idea was simple: using a pole with a curved piece of metal on the end you had to grab yourself a duck and you won a goldfish. There were tens of bags of the little fish hanging from the roof of the tent, swimming repetitively around their tiny homes that consisted of a plastic bag half full of water. Bizarrely this was one of the most popular stalls at funfairs all over the UK. Also the stuff of nightmares for all parents as the usual scenario was that within a day the fish was dead, then flushed down the loo, and you had to explain to the forlorn child that Mr. Goldfish had gone to fishy heaven and was much happier now.
"What do you want for a go at snagging a duck then?" inquired Kyle of a really rather attractive dark-eyed Irish beauty that seemed to sense she was onto a winner the minute she set eyes on Kyle. She 'absentmindedly' firmed down her tight t-shirt over her taut frame, then hooked a bare leg up onto the counter and eyed him slowly.
"Well nigh, waaat wud yer 'av ter offer bibe loike me in swaps fer a go at me game?"
"Huh?" asked Al.
"What did she say?" asked a rather hot under the collar Kyle.
Ven eyed the woman with annoyance, ignoring the boobs pointing right at her, and heaved another heavy sigh.
It took a while.
"What dis yow wunt a bluudy fishie fer anyhoo?" asked Ven much later, doing her best Irish accent.
"You trying to do an accent there?" asked Kyle.
"Yeah, good innit?" she said smugly.
"Um, yeah, sure," said Kyle, to keep the mood light, as they walked around the remaining stalls checking out what was on offer. It had quietened down by now, a few of the stalls were shutting up shop as the light faded and the temperature cooled. Ven could see smoke coming from the Gypsy caravans that were parked in a circle around a large open space where children were playing — kept a watchful eye on by vigilant parents drinking their first beers of the day.
The fun and games had allowed her to forget the unease she had felt earlier, but now the place was getting a little quieter it returned. She watched the remaining groups of people carefully, some were like them, others seemed to consist just of small gangs of men that had no interest in the stalls. Rather, they appeared to be intent on the people wandering around trying to forget themselves for a few hours. People pretending that life was normal. That you could go to funfairs every day and never have to worry about the trip home — to wherever you could find to barricade yourself in and wait for the morning, hop
ing you were still alive and sane.
Al vs Clowns
"How about this one?" squeaked an excited Kyle, hopping about from one foot to another like a little kid needing to go pee.
"It looks like it might be worth a look if the price is right. And only if that means that I don't end up giving away even more of my stuff," sulked Ven. She found it extremely unfair that Al seemed to have been mostly swapping her stuff for rides and food, having gotten an awful lot into his backpack besides his own gear. He had rummaged around a little too well in her opinion. Never mind the fact that she didn't actually use any of the stuff he gave away.
"Yes, I would like a peek behind the curtain, there is sure to be something really great if they are hiding it away like it is the Crown Jewels," said Al, almost as excited as Kyle.
Wow, one of these men is the father to my son, the other is capable of snuffing out your lights with a squeeze of his hand. Scary.
Ven was forgetting one very important detail however. Kyle was just a youngster at 21, and Al had led a somewhat sheltered life up until now. He may have been a lot older than her 26 years but she had more life experience; which was not a lot if she was honest. Not that age was the deciding factor here — it was the fact that life pretty much sucked. Meaning anything that could take your mind off it and allow you to let your hair down, literally for Ven and Kyle, was a good thing.
The tent did look quite exciting anyway, in a cheap and very cheesy sort of way. Before they gained entry it was going to be down to business though. These fairground folk sure drove a hard bargain with their bartering. They would have the clothes off your back if they possibly could, probably your shoes too.
The tent was one of the larger ones at the fair, and unlike most of the others it was totally closed off to prying eyes. Patched in places with mismatched colors it was shabby but clean. But all the loud homemade signs outside promised something wondrous: a room of mirrors. Ven remembered them from when she was a child, on a rare occasion that her and her sister, plus both parents, had gone to a proper funfair like this one together. Minus the zombie apocalypse on all sides, of course. Which meant they had stopped off for fish and chips with mushy peas on the way home, eating them like you used to — wrapped in newspaper with salt and vinegar seeping through the soggy paper, staining your clothes with greasy goodness.
She recalled sitting in the old Volvo, all of them laughing and joking, licking their fingers with the windows all steamed up as the temperature cooled outside. All while they were snug and warm inside, full of piping hot food, warm and cosy as only a happy family could be.
Now it was all gone; parents dead years ago; sister dead only months ago, her own hand.
Ven's family now consisted of an autistic giant, a nerdy Death Metal loving guy who had about as much interest in fashion as a chicken, and her small son whom she loved more than anything in the world. A son who had nearly been taken from her and turned into a zombie because she was an idiot and had put an end to the world she hadn't realized meant quite so much to her until it was eliminated with the press of a button. Plus Bos Bos, mustn't forget the brave dog.
"Hey. Hey. HEY! Shit Ven, where were you? You were on another planet. Wakey, wakey. You coming in or what?" Kyle had been snapping his fingers in front of Ven for minutes now, she was totally lost in her reverie about a past that could never be reclaimed.
"Oh, sorry, totally sparked out there. I don't know how I missed you talking. So, you paid already? What did I miss?"
"I was doing the most excellent of bartering Ven. I actually didn't have to give anything away at all. All we have to give for us to get in is for me to give the young lady that is working here," and Al pointed at the woman standing there next to them looking slightly embarrassed, "a nice big kiss. She will then be letting us in. I am looking forward to being doing the kissing. I don't do much of it to the ladies, and I would like to be doing it all the time." Al was pretty eager to give his payment, the young woman looked pretty eager too.
"Um, right. Okay. How did this happen then?" said Ven, turning to Kyle.
"What? Don't look at me. We started the bartering and from what we could understand, while certain people were absolutely no use whatsoever, was that the woman kind of wanted to have a bit of a smooch with the big guy. So Al jumped in fast and said yes. I did have to stop him from saying he would do it anyway, without us getting into the tent, but I think she missed that bit. These damn accents mean nobody can really understand anyone else here. I don't know how they make a living."
"Okay then, let's get on in," said Ven.
"Gotta pay first," smirked Kyle.
Bos Bos was sat next to the big guy, waiting to see what the commotion was all about, wondering what was inside the tent too. There were some funny smells coming from the slightly damp canvas so he was keen to see if there was anything more interesting inside. Plus his bum was getting wet just sat there on the dewy grass.
"Woof!" said Bos Bos, telling everyone to hurry up. He was feeling soggy and he didn't like it.
"I am doing the kissing of the lady now Bos Bos, no needing to be pushy. I have to be building up to this and making sure it is my very best kissing of the day."
"Of the day!" said an incredulous Kyle.
Al just looked at him, like kissing was something he did most days to most nice ladies that he met.
Kyle merely shrugged his shoulders. "Get on with it then."
Al looked down from his great height at the very pretty young woman that wanted a kiss from him. She really was very nice and he wanted to do his very best. He took her gently in his arms, placing his hands as softly as he could on either side of her pale Irish skin, caressing her increasingly rosy cheeks gently, fingers brushing lightly against her ear lobes. She gave out a quiet moan, gasping at the softness of touch from such huge hands.
Al bent her back gently, trying to recall sweepingly romantic gestures he had seen on the telly, back before it would turn you into a zombie.
He bent to her lips, and she opened her mouth slightly as he did so.
Al kissed her then, slowly and with passion, barely grazing her lips with his, just brushing against her and feeling the connection. She pushed her tongue out — only a touch. Enough to run it around the inside of his lips, and Al returned the sensation with a similar action, their wet tongues meeting for just a second or two.
She gave a low moan as Al released her from his hands, standing upright and trying not to draw attention to what was happening just below his belt. It was obvious for all too see, his height kind of put it right there standing to attention.
The woman was flushed at the cheeks and the neck, her lips swollen and bright red, shining in the low light, sparkling with moisture. She licked them thoughtfully, savoring the taste of Al, and wide-eyed she gasped, "Anuder. Anuder wan please." This time Al understood perfectly, and bent to make his second payment. It seemed he was actually going to be in credit.
It took a while.
###
Inside the tent, when they finally made it, was a bit of a disappointment at first. Around the edges the bare ground was sprinkled sparingly with sawdust. Circling the interior was a wall just above Al's height, the backs of plain boards facing outward, posters peeling away and faded.
There was one small entrance — a tight squeeze of a gap in the circular barricade.
They entered.
Bos Bos led the way, tail wagging, sniffing for food and following the footsteps of those that had gone before them. Next up was Al, standing taller than he ever had, pride swelling his chest, straightening out his back ramrod erect. Bringing up the rear were Ven, Tomas and Kyle, whispering in conversation to themselves.
"That was a bit bonkers out there wasn't it," said Kyle, still in shock about Al's effect on the woman manning the tent.
"Hidden depths I guess," said Ven. "I can kind of see the appeal though. I mean, he's a big guy, and a sweetie. A lot of women would love someone like that to be their bloke, especially now. You
want someone like Al when there are people out to get you at every turn, right?"
"Right," sulked Kyle.
"Oh, look, no offense Kyle, I didn't mean to say you weren't doing bloody brilliant because you are. But you have to admit he makes kind of an imposing figure doesn't he? Women would do anything, literally, in a few cases I suspect, for a big guy to protect them. And he has a nice nature, if a little hard to understand at times. I would imagine there would be quite a few men willing to do almost anything to have Al look after them too," mused Ven, never a fan of sexism in any form.
They carried on their quiet conversation as they made their way into the maze of mirrors, failing to take any notice of where they were going until they both almost crashed into the back of Al. Bos Bos swished his tail just in time to avoid it being flattened by the foot of Kyle.
Ven studied their surroundings for the first time, suddenly aware of all the crazy reflections in the mirrors circling them seemingly on all sides.
"Which way are we being to go now?" asked Al, confounded by the shapes of himself and Bos Bos, and now Ven, Kyle and baby Tomas' head poking up from where he was strapped to Ven's back.
"Um, not sure, let's have a look," said Ven. She wandered around the small space they found themselves in, trying to see past the wall of mirrors. Obscene distortions made it almost impossible to get your bearings properly. "I can't see the way out, it's like we are stuck. Which way did we come in?" She turned a full 360, trying to find the path they had taken — nothing.
"Where's it gone?" asked Kyle. "I can't see it. We just bloody walked in here like a second ago." He was getting a bad feeling about it all, something strange was definitely going on.
Bang, bang... BANG!
"Shit, what was that," said Ven, jumping and spinning around fast, trying to find the source of the noise. Everyone was instantly alert. Forming a tight group they all faced outward in different directions, now so in tune with each other they took up their defensive positions instinctively.