A Native boy? Another historical performer? Where are all these people coming from?
“Um, hi. I’m Carter. Thanks for saving me back there. That … that girl with the leaves. I … I don’t know how anyone can be so creepy! Do you know the way out? I’m supposed to meet my mom and my sister at the parking lot. Do you know where that is? The parking lot?” Carter slowly regained his breath.
The boy stopped smiling. He said, very slowly and carefully, like he was trying to say it perfectly, “Par … king … law … t?”
“Yeah, it’s over there somewhere. I think,” Carter said, pointing to where he figured the maze must end.
If there WAS an end. Please, please let there be an end.
The boy frowned, like he didn’t understand. Maybe he wasn’t from around here?
“I’m Carter. CARTER.”
The boy repeated very slowly, “Car … tair.”
This kid must be French or something? If he’s a historical performer, he’s a really good actor.
“Yeah, close enough. I’ve seen a lost kid, and a wounded soldier, and now that leaf girl, twice. And let’s not even mention Mr. Green and his garden shears. I really just want to find the exit and go home. Do you know the way out of here? Can we go that way?” Carter pointed toward where he thought … hoped … his mother and sister were waiting for him.
The boy grew serious. He shook his head and cut the air with his hand across his chest. He could only be saying “NO!”
“Okay, okay! Not that way, I get it. But do you know the way out?” Carter asked hopefully. Finally, here was someone who seemed, well maybe not exactly normal, but possibly able to help him. Someone who could see him and understand him, sort of. Carter needed all the help he could get.
SNIP!
SNIP!
Mr. Green! The boy grabbed Carter, and they ran through the maze, dodging left and right at top speed like two silent shadows.
SNIP!
SNIP!
Wherever Mr. Green was, the Native boy seemed to stay one step ahead of him, dodging and darting along the path.
They ran until Carter was ready to collapse … then suddenly stopped. The boy put his hands to his lips in a shhhh … and they listened to the breeze.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Carter strained his ears for the dreaded SNIP! SNIP! But instead he heard …
… a distant shriek! Sounds of the midway! Carter’s heart pounded.
The exit must be near! They must be reaching the end of the maze! Carter thought he was going to faint with relief. They crept along quickly, keeping low.
The midway sounds got louder. More people shrieked and laughed. Carter heard music and finally, he could smell … fried food and garbage!
I never thought the smell of garbage would make me so happy!
SNIP!
SNIP!
The boy gave Carter one final enormous shove, and Carter burst out of the bushes. He blinked. He was out of the maze! He was free! The sounds and smells of the fair were all around him.
“Thank you!” Carter called out, but the boy was gone. The exit to the maze looked so harmless, just a path and a few bushes.
They really ought to put a “Danger, keep out” sign here, he thought.
He turned his back on the maze. He could go and find Sydney and his mom! They could get the police to help the wounded soldier! Then he could go home and try to forget about this weird afternoon. He looked around.
Then he frowned.
Something wasn’t quite right.
He turned back to the maze … and saw an old-fashioned wooden carousel spinning around and around.
Where did THAT come from?
Carter blinked and looked again. The carousel spun and wheezed …
… but the curious maze was gone.
Chapter 7
The Grand Fair
Carter stared. The wooden carousel went around and around. Children rode the painted wooden horses, laughing and having fun.
It didn’t make sense.
Where did the maze go?
He opened and closed his eyes a few times, but the maze didn’t reappear.
What? What’s … going on?
The children on the carousel all wore the same old-fashioned clothes as the little boy from the maze, and Creepy Leaf Girl.
Okay, so the maze has gone, I’m not sure how they did that, but okay. Great trick. Magicians do make big things disappear, I think. This old-fashioned carousel is really authentic, so are the children, but at least now I know where that little boy and Creepy Leaf Girl came from. That still doesn’t explain the soldier … or the Native boy …
Carter was a reasonable boy, trying to make reasonable sense of the situation.
But nothing really made sense. He stared at the carousel a little longer, then called out, “Pretty cool, Mr. Green! A disappearing maze, not bad, not bad at all.” No one answered him, though, and the carousel riders shrieked louder than ever. The music wheezed on.
Then he remembered what Mr. Green had said when he first entered the maze: it’s the most interesting ride at the fair.
The maze was interesting, that’s for sure.
And creepy, he thought. Be honest, it was scary, too.
But he hadn’t really been scared … had he?
It didn’t matter anyway, now that he was free. If Mr. Green had done something weird by somehow making the curious maze disappear, what did he care now he was out of it? If he ever saw that Native boy again, he’d have to thank him for getting him out of there. He turned to go. His mother and Sydney and the parking lot weren’t far away now. He took a step, turned around a few more times, and then stopped and frowned again.
Something else was definitely not right.
Not only was the maze gone, but there was also something wrong with the midway. He’d been so happy to get out of the maze and to hear shrieks of riders and smell fried food (and garbage) that he hadn’t really LOOKED at the fairgrounds.
The midway wasn’t right. Not right at all.
A small wooden Ferris wheel circled up and down.
I’ve never seen that there before.
Nearby, a tiny wooden roller coaster rolled around a short track. People on the ride shrieked, but it was the least scary-looking ride Carter had ever seen, as though it was for really young kids. A large sign above it said, “Ride the Switchback! Just like Coney Island!”
Coney Island? What’s that?
He heard a yell from overhead and looked up. A man in a sling rolled slowly past on a cable, as though he was zip-lining but very, very slowly. A nearby sign read: “Take your chance on the Aerial Railway!”
I’ve never noticed the Aerial Railway there before, either.
People flowed all around Carter as though he wasn’t there. He turned in circles, his mouth open.
Where’s the real midway?
Where was the mighty Double Helix Death-Defying roller coaster? And the Monster Loop-the-Loop? And the Zippedy Spinner? And the Skull-N-Bonz Pirate Ship? He’d even be happy to see the sad, so-not-scary haunted house right about now.
There were at least a dozen more rides that Carter could name that SHOULD have been on the midway, rattling on enormous wheels and making lots of noise.
But they weren’t there.
Instead there was a wooden carousel, a small Ferris wheel, a tiny roller coaster, and something that looked like zip-lining with all the fun taken out.
A man walked by, shouting into an old-fashioned megaphone: “Hurry, hurry, hurry! Step right up! The grandstand horse races are about to begin!”
Horse races?
Carter ran up to him. “Hey, sir. What happened to the midway?” he asked. But the man seemed not to hear him and kept walking. Musicians strolled past, playing guitars and drums, and m
ore men walked by yelling strange messages into megaphones:
“Come see Bert Bostock’s Leopards!” yelled one man.
“Don’t miss the Mighty Swordfish in the world’s largest tank!” yelled another.
“The sideshow freaks are about to perform!” bellowed a third.
There were definitely more megaphones than he remembered. And that wasn’t all that was strange.
I’ve never seen leopards, a swordfish, or … sideshow freaks here before!
Carter’s head buzzed as he joined a huge crowd. Overhead, a bright red hot-air balloon floated in the afternoon sky. A sign on the side of the balloon said, “Watch the Daredevil Professor Stewart Soar into the Heavens!”
What’s going on? What’s so exciting about a hot-air balloon? The air show should start soon … with helicopters and jets.
Carter took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and opened them again. Nothing had changed. Everything was still wrong, very, very wrong.
He spun in a slow circle. It was dawning on him that there were horses everywhere. Horses pulled buggies, carts, even big trucks. One horse-drawn truck went past, with the words ICE ICE ICE painted on the side. Carter walked up to a horse waiting patiently tied to a post and cautiously reached out to stroke its nose. The animal sniffed his hand and then stomped its front legs hard in the dirt and reared away, frightened. Carter hurried off into the crowd.
Everyone was dressed in old-fashioned clothes, not just the children on the carousel. The ladies ALL wore long dresses and fancy hats, and the men wore dark suits and hats, too.
So many hats everywhere! Even the children wore soft caps and bonnets. Who wears so many hats?
Carter took a few more steps. He steadied himself; he did not want to faint. Not here, wherever here was, and not now.
What was going on?
Food. That would help. If he was going to face something weird, at least he didn’t have to face it on an empty stomach. It felt like ages since he had eaten anything.
He walked carefully past the strange midway and stepped up to a food tent. It said “Try our ICE CREAM! Guaranteed Frozen!” Beside that a sign said, “Coney Island Sausages Here! Five cents!”
Coney Island again. He had no idea what that was, but “sausage” he understood.
“Excuse me, sir, one Coney Island Sausage, please.” The man ignored him, like he hadn’t heard.
Carter repeated his request, louder this time. “EXCUSE ME! One sausage, please!” But the man ignored him again. Carter was just about to shout when a boy ran up to the food counter.
“One ice cream, please,” the boy said.
“Of course, young man! You want to taste the best ice cream in town! That’ll be five cents.” The man turned to a wooden box at his feet. He removed the tight-fitting lid, and inside Carter saw a box of ice cream packed into straw-covered ice. The man scooped ice cream into a piece of waxed paper shaped like a cup and handed it to the boy.
“Don’t you have an ice cream cone?” Carter asked. But the man paid no attention to him, just as though he was invisible.
When the boy had gone, the man re-opened the box lid.
“It’s too hot today! This ice cream is getting soft. I need more ice,” he muttered to himself. “Maybe more straw will help.” The man pulled a bale of straw out from under the stall and packed a few handfuls around the block of ice.
“Why don’t you just put the ice cream in the …” The word “freezer” died on Carter’s lips.
No. There wouldn’t be a refrigerator with a freezer, would there? He didn’t want to think about why.
Why, Carter, why doesn’t he have a freezer for his ice cream?
Carter shook his head. He didn’t want to answer himself.
Just then a lady walked by, holding a man’s arm. She said, “Oh dear, George, the motor vehicles at the grandstand are so loud! They’re far too noisy, and very dirty. I certainly hope they never catch on here. I’ll take a horse and buggy every time, thank you!”
Carter clapped his hands over his ears. NO! I did NOT just hear that lady say that!
He opened and closed his eyes again, but nothing helped. He tried to focus on something further away. He suddenly noticed a banner that hung near the entrance to the midway: “Welcome to the Grand Fair, 1903.”
Carter could feel a horrible shriek starting in his throat. His head swam…. There WERE no cars, only horses and buggies. There were NO airplanes overhead, just a hot-air balloon. There were NO huge midway rides, just small wooden ones. It was normal for people to wear old-fashioned clothes and eat food kept cold on ice.
Because it was 1903!
Carter gulped and slowly turned to the east, to the city where the huge buildings should be … but weren’t.
There were no skyscrapers, no big bank buildings. There was no modern downtown. Instead there were just small brick buildings and lots of chimneys.
Where did the city go?
Carter was definitely awake, whatever was happening. Hallucinations? Visions brought on by terror? Time travel?
But that’s not possible, is it?
The lake was still there, and the big grey rock was still there too, he could see them over the food tents. So he was in the same place on the fairgrounds. He hadn’t gone anywhere.
Just any when.
How do I get home now?
He tried not to panic. He gulped hard as his heart raced and his mouth went dry. He looked past more tents selling ice cream (guaranteed frozen!) and Coney Island sausages for five cents …
… and saw a splotch of red squid hat disappear behind a tree.
Chapter 8
Arthur and the Freak Show
“SYDNEY! SYDNEY, WAIT!”
Carter tore through the crowd. When he got to the spot where he’d seen Sydney’s hat, she was gone.
“SYDNEY! SYDNEY!” He whipped around in circles. He ran from spot to spot. But there was no sign of her.
Sydney had vanished.
With a groan, Carter slid to the soft ground under a huge old tree. People and horses passed by him. Mothers, fathers, children, walked past in their best clothes, just another normal day for them, and all so terribly, terribly wrong for Carter.
No doubt about it now. This was real. No one could see him except maybe horses; he knew that now, too. He was invisible. The man with the megaphone, the Coney Island sausage man, the people all around him, none of them could see him. It was just as though he wasn’t there.
Maybe no one would ever find him, either. But his sister was out there too, somewhere. That thought calmed Carter just a little. If he’d been just a little younger, he might have started crying. But instead he swallowed hard and tried to be calm.
Think, Carter, think!
He had to find his way home somehow. But how?
Where was Mr. Green?
Carter pulled his knees up to his chest. He read a sign across the grass: “FREAK SHOW.” At that moment a man in a top hat came out of a big tent and yelled into a megaphone: “Step right up, ladies and gentlemen! For just ten cents, yes that’s one slim dime, you can see the amazing sideshow freaks! Meet Thumbelina, the world’s smallest mother! She plays guitar! See the one and only Wild Man of Borneo! He eats raw meat! And barks! And you wouldn’t want to miss the bearded lady, would you? We call her Harriet, or Hairy for short!”
The crowd laughed, and then to Carter’s amazement people rushed to get inside the tent. He could hear the clink clink as men, women, and children eagerly dropped their money into a jar at the man’s feet.
A girl and her brother, two children about the same age as Carter and Sydney, pushed passed him. The girl said, “Hurry, Henry! The sideshow freaks are performing!”
Sideshow freaks? Hey, look over here! Freak boy from the future lost in time, ten cents a peek!
No one knew that a boy in stra
nge rubber-soled shoes and oddly zippered clothes was sitting under a tree.
Was he scared? If he had to admit it … yes. If he wasn’t scared before in the maze, now he was.
He was scared.
How was he going to get home now? Where was Mr. Green?
And where was Sydney?
He was about to get up to retrace his steps back to the carousel. He was trying very, very hard not to panic.
Then …
… “Mummy?”
A little boy stood in front of him. Could it be the boy from the maze? It was hard to tell, since all the children were dressed the same way, but he looked like the same boy.
“Hey, kid! Hey, can you see me?” Carter asked, a little frantically.
The little boy stared at him. “Mummy?” he asked again, doubtful. But he was definitely looking at Carter. The little boy could see him, he was sure of it.
“Kid … listen carefully. Where’s the maze?” The little boy stuck his finger in his nose and frowned.
“Lost my mummy,” he said again, a little fearful. Carter grabbed the boy’s shoulder. He was real enough.
“Where’s your mom? Back in the maze? Where is it? Where’s the maze, kid?” Carter wanted to shake him, so he forced himself to calm down. But the little boy just stared. His big eyes filled with tears. Carter sighed and took the boy’s hand (the one that hadn’t just been in his nose).
“What’s your name?”
“Arthur.”
“Okay, Arthur. Come on, let’s go and find your mom,” he said. If he couldn’t find the maze, and he couldn’t help himself, at least he could help this little lost boy find his mother.
It felt better, much, much better, having someone see him and speak to him, even if it was just a lost five-year-old.
“Mummy?”
“No, Arthur, I’m not your mom, sorry. We’re both lost,” Carter said.
“No! Look!” the little boy said, more urgently this time. He was pointing at something.
SNIP!
SNIP!
Mr. Green!
Carter and the Curious Maze Page 3