I’m going to need a good sleep since I plan to stay up all night again with her tonight. Hopefully Papa Smurf doesn’t send me off to the next town until Tuesday, giving me tomorrow night with her as well.
Another hour passes, and another. My feet are dragging something awful. I’m a bigger zombie than Zombie.
We’re supposed to start ripping apart the rides right after close. I’m going to need energy. For that and Emily.
“Razor, keep an eye on things for me, I need some shut-eye.”
He nods. At least I think he does.
There are not many choices of places to sleep in peace in the middle of a carnival in full swing. Going back to my bunkhouse isn’t an option. The best place I can think of is the back of Cess’ basket toss game. I may get hit with the odd softball, but I’m so tired, I doubt I’ll notice. I’ll be too busy dreaming of Emily screaming my name.
I slip in the back of it and lie down.
“You lazy son of a bitch, do you know you cost me today?” Papa Smurf screams.
“Huh?” I say, disoriented with sleep.
“That useless-piece-of-shit Whiskey fucked up on the tickets and cost me big. Because you weren’t doing your job.”
Rubbing my eyes, I try to digest his words.
“Sorry, boss.” I sit, hoping he’ll go away and let me lie back down.
“Fucking sorry don’t mean shit. If you want to stay up all night fucking some local pussy, that’s your business, but make sure you’re here and ready to work when it’s time to work.”
“I’ll work, right now.” I still don’t make any move to stand. Papa Smurf is famous for interpreting anything as being aggressive.
“The twenty-four hour man is leaving now, and you’re going with him.”
“Fuck that. Since when do I go with the twenty-four hour man? You need me here to break down the rides.”
“You’re too fucking tired to be any use to me here. Go help him put up signs in the next town. It’s about all you’re good for today.”
“No, I ain’t going.”
“Get your sorry ass in his truck now, before I bust it open so bad you won’t be able to sit for a year.”
Papa Smurf is a mammoth mountain of a man with a passion for beating the shit out of his employees.
“Maybe I want to stay in this town.”
“One night with some local pussy and you’re ready to screw the carnival? Then what would you do? Show up at her doorstep and be welcomed in with open arms? Dream the fuck on. Now get in the truck. This is your last warning.” He hoofs me something fierce in the thigh and I stand.
This thing with Emily was only ever going to be a weekend fling. Tonight and maybe tomorrow, depending on when the carnival leaves.
I’m only losing one night. Though one night with her was already better than all the others I’ve spent with other women combined.
There’s no doubt in my mind I could floor Papa Smurf, but he’s probably right. As much as I’d love to go knocking on Emily’s door, I don’t expect a good girl townie like her would let me move in. Plus her father would shoot me.
“Fine,” I say, walking away to my bunk.
I grab my backpack. I fill it with a change of clothes and my toothbrush and get into the carnival’s advanced advertising truck. I can’t believe Papa Smurf’s sending me to staple signs to lamp posts.
The twenty-four hour man pulls the truck away from the carnival. As we leave the town, I can’t help thinking what a stupid mistake I’m making.
Alone (Emily)
“Emily Grace Williamson, how dare you disgrace our family!”
The roar of my father’s voice startles me from my sleep. Disoriented, my heart thumps in my chest at being awoken so abruptly.
I sit up and blink to clear the sleepiness from my eyes. A glance at the clock shows the time is five pm. I vaguely panic that I should be getting ready and going to find Steel.
“What kind of whore are you?” my father screams. He moves to the side of the bed and towers over me, his eyes burning into my skin. My mother stands behind him, looking worried.
Still in the process of waking up, I don’t say anything.
“Do you know how many phone calls I got about you whoring at the carnival? The carnival! So help me God, what did I ever do to deserve a daughter who goes around with carnies? Carnies!”
“Dad,” I start.
“You single-handedly destroyed my good name in this town. How am I ever going to be elected regional Lions Club president now?”
I pull the pillows over my head, blocking myself from him.
“Honey, why did you do that? You’re a good girl from a good family, it’s not safe,” my mother says, on the verge of tears, her voice breaking. Or maybe she’s been crying already.
All I want to do is get out of here and find Steel.
“Leave me alone,” I say, my voice muffled by the pillows.
“How am I supposed to recover from this? I’m the president of the Lions Club, and your actions are going to cost me that.”
I fling the pillows off and sit up.
“I am an adult. My actions are nothing to do with you and your stupid club.”
“I don’t give a damn what age you are, I will not stand by why my daughter drags my name through the mud!” my father screams.
“Honey, I’m just so worried about you, it’s not safe to be hanging around with those types, you’re liable to end up dead in a ditch,” my mother says through her sobs.
“You two are ridiculous. And selfish. I’m leaving.”
Grateful I still have my dress on, I leap out of bed and stomp to my door. My father moves faster than a wide receiver and reaches the door before me.
“Over my dead body,” he says through gritted teeth, his nostrils flaring.
“You can’t stop me, I’m an adult. Get out of my way.”
“Don’t you dare speak to me like that in my house,” he says.
“So get out of my way, and I won’t have to.”
My mother latches onto my arm and pulls. Her tears are flowing uncontrollably and she tries to wrestle me back to the bed.
“They’re all drifters who are lying cheats and criminals. It’s not safe. I need my baby to be safe. I couldn’t live if something happened to you,” she says.
“Let me go,” I say, shaking my arm, “I mean it!”
My father steps over the threshold and beckons my mother. She goes to his side and he slams the door.
I yank at the door handle, twisting and turning, but it won’t budge. He’s holding the handle from the other side. The hiss of his whispering to my mother comes through the door, but I can’t make it out.
“This is confinement, you can’t do this to me.”
“Emily, I’m going to bring you up some supper,” my mother says in her most caring voice. It’s as though I’ve fallen off my bike and skinned my knee.
Growling, I storm back to my bed and grab my phone from my bedside table. As fast as I can, I type Maddie a text.
My parents are holding me captive
-Good then you won’t go back to that creep carny today
Unbelievable. I thought she’d understand, unlike Courtney.
He isn’t a creep
I hit send, slam the phone down and cry myself back to sleep.
I Remember You (Steel)
It’s November, we’re in Georgia, near the Florida border, and it’s the last night of the carnival before the winter break. Traditionally, it’s the biggest party night of the year. Only I don’t feel like partying.
“Going to be a great night, this is always the best night for choice pussy. Remember last year? You had two at once,” Razor says.
I grunt at him. He knows I’ve lost all interest in it. Emily still hasn’t left my head. Pretty local girls keep throwing themselves at me, and all I’ve done is curl my nose and push them off me.
It kills me that she thinks I left without saying goodbye.
“Zombie went and found a
whole truckload of girls for tonight.”
“Don’t care.”
“Come on, man. You can’t get hung up on that chick. Face it, you’re never going to see her again.”
“I’ll find her.”
“Then what? You get married and have babies? Keep it real, none of these townies see us as anything other than one of the carnival rides. One weekend a year is all the fun they want from us.”
I don’t feel the need to respond to him. Something happened that night between us, something more. I’ll be damned if I don’t find her and keep her for good. Whatever it takes.
Every night since Papa Smurf sent me away with the twenty-four hour man, I’ve been trying to find out what the name of her town is.
Papa Smurf had something big on the twenty-four hour man, and whatever it was, it was big enough that he wouldn’t even give me a whiff of a hint about the name of the town. The minute the carnival season finished, he took off, never to be seen or heard from again. Whatever Papa Smurf had on him must’ve been big.
I kick myself every day for not paying more attention to the names of all the small towns we go to. But it’s the same with Razor and Whiskey and all the other carnies. You’d think at least one of us would pay attention to the names of towns. But no, apparently not, and now I’m paying the price.
I sit and party with them every night, but as soon as I’ve had enough, I go back to my bunk and spend forever on my phone to try to figure out what town Emily lives in.
It’s costing me a fortune in data charges on my phone, but I’m been looking at photos of every potential town to find hers. Not that I saw anything about the town, other than my look of it from the Ferris wheel when we first put it up. There are a whole lot of Golden Arches out there, and they aren’t much of a landmark to go by.
When I’ve had enough of that, I close my eyes and remember her scent, her taste and the way she responded to me. After I’m spent, I think of the rest of the night with her and the things we talked about. Nights always end in me making a new resolution to find her again.
The season finished a couple of weeks ago. We’ve gone further away from North Carolina, and are in Mississippi, near the Gulf. Only the core ride staff is working here over the winter: me, Razor, Whiskey and Zombie. Everyone else is on their own over the winter months, and many will join us again in the spring. Of course, lots will never be seen or heard from again.
“Tell me, dammit. I finished the fucking season. Now tell me the name of the town,” I say to Papa Smurf.
“You expect me to remember the name of some shitty town? Do you know how many we’ve been to this year?” he says.
“I know damn well you know it, I’ve been asking since the day we left.”
“Maybe I’ll remember it after the painting and yearly maintenance on the rides.”
Asshole. I’d be out of here today if he told me the town. Now he’s using it to make me do the shit work. Maybe my fists could make him change his mind about telling me it.
Except I know him too well. If I break his nose, there’s no chance in hell that he’d ever tell me the name of the town.
All by Myself (Emily)
It’s December, and I’m standing in the line at the coffee shop. I hear others in line chatting to neighbours, friends, nobodies. I used to be that every time I went out, everyone smiled and said hello. Since the carnival, no one says hello. It’s like I have a scarlet A stitched to my shirt.
Steel gave me one thing that night, and that’s the courage to be my own person. They can judge me all they want, but I’m going to walk around Colmar with my head held high. They can snicker behind my back all they want.
The Lions Club sponsors the annual carnival, and as the president my father has vowed to never allow Steel’s carnival -- or Steel -- to set foot in this town again.
“I’m praying for your family,” the old bitty Barbara behind the counter says.
For my family. Not for me, because I don’t matter one bit to these people. It takes everything in me not to tell her to fuck off. Barbara’s the biggest gossip in this town, and I’m positive I’m her number one topic.
I still haven’t forgiven my parents for barricading me in my room. They wouldn’t let me out until all trace of the carnival was gone. The tension in the house is still thick. There certainly wasn’t any ‘I’m thankful for my family’ at Thanksgiving. On their part, or mine.
The thing that upsets me most is that Steel thinks I didn’t come back for him. He probably long forced any thoughts of me out of his head. I feel so terrible.
I don’t remember the name of the carnival. All I remember is that the logo had a clown on it. A zillion carnivals have clowns in their logos. I never knew there were so many clowns before I spent hours online trying to find out the name of Steel’s carnival.
Too bad my best friends won’t help me. I can’t believe they’ve taken the side of my parents on this. I feel so alone, which only makes me more desperate to find him.
“Actually, Barbara, I’ll take my coffee to go.”
“Uh huh.”
I always have my coffee here, it’s part of my Saturday routine. But today, I’m tired of it. Tired of it all.
With cup in hand, I get into my car. There’s something I’ve been thinking of ever since that night with Steel, and I’m finally going to go through with it.
First, I send a quick text to my mother.
Going Christmas shopping in Raleigh
I wonder what she’ll get me for Christmas this year, a chastity belt or something nicer.
I Google tattoo parlors in Raleigh, I know better than to step anywhere near one in the remote area, and phone the one with the highest rating.
“The Ink Spot,” a gruff man’s voice says.
“Hi, do you have any appointments free today?”
“What were you thinking of getting? Is it something big or small? Do you know the design?”
“I just want a small rose, but I don’t have a design for it.”
“That’s okay, we’ve got plenty of roses to choose from. Can you make it for two?”
“I think so.” It’ll be tight, and I’ll have to put my foot down a little on the highway to make it.
“Okay, I’ll put you down.”
I give him my name and number and hang up. After ramming my phone into my purse, I turn on my car and head to Raleigh. My chest is bursting with anticipation.
Steel’s right. If I want a tattoo, I should get one. No one ever has to know but me, and hopefully him. Even if someone does find out, it’s my body and none of their business anyway.
By the time my hands connect with the tattoo parlor doors, my tummy is fluttering with equal parts nerves and excitement.
“Hi, I’m here for my two o’clock appointment.”
A man who looks twice my age stands and says, “The rose?”
“Yep, that’s me.”
The man pulls out a big binder and opens it to some laminated pages of rose designs.
“These are the roses,” he says.
“I want to be able to wear a bikini without it being seen.”
“No problem, I can put it anywhere you want.”
“And the size?”
“Whatever you want, I can do.”
I’ve always pictured having a red rose bud, and it doesn’t take me long to zero in on the one I like best.
“That one,” I say.
It’s perfect and I’m crazy excited. I’m finally going to have something I’ve wanted for a long time, and it’s all because of Steel. I need to find him again, whatever the cost.
The Memory Remains (Steel)
I am so sick of looking at, smelling and being covered in bright yellow paint. Papa Smurf has me painting the whole damn Zipper by myself. Asshole.
Any other year I would’ve loved it, because it means not finding a job for the winter months. This year it just feels like he’s abusing me because he knows he has information I want. Information I’d do anything to get.
>
I can’t help this feeling in my gut, that I should be hitching around North Carolina, going from town to town to find Emily myself. It would be faster than playing his fucking game. Assuming I didn’t freeze to death sleeping on park benches in the middle of winter.
My Googling must be getting close to finding her town. It would be a lot easier if they didn’t all look the fucking same, but I have to be getting close. I have to.
Razor said I’d forget all about her by Christmas, but she’s stuck in my head even more.
I have to find her. And I will.
Papa Smurf walks across the lot, and I fling down the paintbrush to chase after him.
“Tell me the name of the town,” I say, balling my fists.
“The painting’s not done.”
“I don’t fucking care. The painting’s never going to be done, because I’ve had enough. I’m going to find her, with or without your help.” I puff my chest at him, my nostrils flare.
“Steel, calm down,” he says putting a hand on my shoulder. “It’s not what you think. I seen carnies like you fall hard for townies before, and it never ends good for them. You’ve been with me since you was a teen, and I don’t want to see you get hurt like that.” His voice is smooth, and he is saying the most genuine thing any male father figure has ever said to me in my life.
“It’s not like that, she’s different.”
“I heard that before, too.”
“I’m going to find her, with or without you.”
“Think about it long and hard first is all I’m saying. One night is one thing, but you’ll find out the hard way that you’re from a different world than her, and that the outside world don’t approve of us. Her folk ain’t ever going to think otherwise. The prejudices against us run deep, don’t never forget it.”
I shake my head at him and walk away, trying to digest his words. Everyone always paints carnies as no good, but Emily’s different. I’m sure of it.
Pierce Me: Satisfied by the Bad Boy Page 22