Wonder Never (The Fairytale Diaries #2)

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Wonder Never (The Fairytale Diaries #2) Page 1

by Amanda Gatton




  Amanda Gatton

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, including photocopying, recording, or transmitted by any means without written consent of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Characters, establishments, names, companies, organizations and events were created by the author. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or actual events, companies or organizations is coincidental.

  Published by Headtrip Productions

  Text Copyright 2015 by Amanda Gatton

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  Dedicated to my friend Kristy Heinicke for being such a sweet person.

  Part I: Wondernever

  Part II: The Golden Ball

  Part III: Restless

  Part IV: Beastly

  Part V: Wishes

  Part VI: Beans

  Part VII: Nose Grows

  Part VIII: Never Never

  Part IX: Burn Your House Down

  Part X: Lies and Other Tragedy

  Part XI: Poke the Dragon

  Part I

  Wondernever

  Chapter 1

  Beyond the river, beyond the swamps, and beyond the black forests, there was a burg known as Enchantica. Not in my time, not in your time, but in a very bad time of nightmares, a carnival caravan rolled into town. Though the escape artist Joshua Cross believed the darkness was behind him as he basked in the warmth of the bayou sun, he would soon find that the story had only just begun.

  Josh had never been to Louisiana before and he was beyond thrilled when Carnaval de le Nuit crossed into the state. Having grown up in a rather cold, dismal environment, he loved the prospect of warmth and constant brilliant sunshine. The allure of the bayou drew him.

  The carnival had been touring aggressively, visiting a new city each week. So the performers had collectively decided on a location to set up for a whole month. They would spend the entire month of June set up on the outskirts of Enchantica.

  As soon as they arrived in town, Josh could feel a sense of history and magic. Enchantica was comprised of colorful, ornate buildings and homes that told stories simply by existing. The shuttered windows and beveled glass doors of the homes and businesses seemed to wink and smile as though they had secrets hidden within their walls.

  Josh swiftly found that the main street of Enchantica was a happy, lively place. Music could be heard lilting on the air at all hours of the day and night there. Shopkeepers and locals spoke in slow southern drawls and wore wide smiles always. Life moved at a relaxed pace and Josh found the contrast to his fast and busy existence quite lovely.

  As the vans and trucks of Carnaval de le Nuit lumbered in, kicking up dust from the highway, they were met with smiles from those they passed. Josh grew even more excited. Not every town they visited welcomed them. But in Enchantica, he felt at home before the caravan even came to a stop. He began to feel he would have trouble wanting to leave again once thirty days came and went.

  That afternoon, they landed and pitched their camp. They spent the evening stretching their cramped limbs, unpacking, and relaxing. After night settled over their collection of RVs and tents, all the performers gathered around a roaring bonfire. They took one night to make merry and enjoy their new setting. It was in the wee small hours of the morning when Josh finally dropped exhausted into his small bunk beneath a sunroof in the RV. Starlight twinkled through a tangle of tree limbs which tossed in a gentle breeze. He drifted off to sleep pondering the inky sky.

  The following two days were nothing but hard work. He pitched in with the other carnies doing everything necessary to prepare for opening day. The semi-trailers containing the attraction tents and the carnival's few rides had to be unpacked and assembled which were huge jobs that required painstaking assistance from all hands. The museum of curiosities was another attraction that had to be carefully tended to. Carnaval de le Nuit owned a collection of oddities known the world over, and they had to be handled attentively and protected.

  Next, the wardrobe tent was assembled and organized. Opulent sequined and feathered costumes, masks, and headdresses were placed next to the dressing areas. A line of makeup tables and mirrors was carefully arranged to best accommodate the players when they prepared for their acts.

  The food trucks were placed, opened, plugged in, and cleaned. Soon, colored bulbs and neon lights buzzed, advertising every variety of fried food imaginable. The scent of shoe string cut potatoes and cotton candy drifted on the sultry air.

  By late in the evening, their second full day in Enchantica, the carnival was complete. The music played to ensure everything electronic ran smoothly. The carnies took turns on the rides, never tiring of spinning on the carousel, or enjoying the breeze on the ferris wheel while they studied their new locale from high in the sky.

  Everything was perfect, and Carnaval de le Nuit was ready to open for business as soon as the sun rose.

  ***

  Josh wasn't scheduled to work opening day until a six p.m. shift in the ticket booth, and then he'd perform his act at ten p.m. He was the last show of the night.

  Normally, Josh found the crowd of an opening day exciting. He enjoyed the buzz of energy among delighted children, happy parents, and thrill seeking teens. But that time, he was eager to wander into Enchantica and explore. Mesmerized as he was by the place, he'd been dying to get some time alone to do as he pleased. So he elected to skip the opening ceremony. As soon as daylight woke the azure sky, Josh slipped out the makeshift gate and took to the road.

  The carnival was situated on a large sprawl of land less than a mile outside Enchantica. He didn't walk long before he found himself ambling up the same street they'd passed down upon arriving.

  It was a gorgeous residential area with huge, old, perfectly maintained homes. They all sat on hills that dripped with fragrant pink and lavender blossoms. Willows danced in almost every yard and tall oaks lined either side of the street, creating a sort of tunnel and cool pleasant shade. The sidewalks were old cobblestones. It was all so different from where he'd grown up which had been mostly modern, modest, and efficient. He'd come from the sort of place where people generally kept their blinds tightly shut and doors locked. Whereas in Enchantica, the ornate bay windows were thrown wide open, and nothing but slamming screen doors posed as a barrier to nature and neighbors. In his hometown, strangers had been polite, reserved, but mostly standoffish. But in Enchantica, every stranger became a fast friend.

  He felt more at home with each step that carried him closer to the center of town. The neighborhood was already very much awake. A paperboy road by on a Schwinn. Children played in their yards. Friendly folks waved at him as he meandered by. He happily returned their smiles.

  Soon, he came onto the main street of town where historic stone buildings loomed. They were colorfully accented with hand painted murals depicting days gone by. Each window and doorway was adorned with wrought iron filigree. Balconies suspended two and three stories up sported flowerpots full of every manner of fern and every color of flower. Josh deeply breathed the scent of warm bread. The sound of a jazz brass band came from somewhere. Doors up and down the street jingled as townsfolk came and went.

  First, Josh made his way up the tall flight of flagstones leading up to the door of the Enchantica Public Library. Books had been an escape of his in his former, awful life. But in the last couple years, he'd been mostly too busy to read. He decided since he'd be in town for a month, he'd get himself a library card.

  After an hour amongst the lofty stacks of books, he reemerged into the sunshine with a couple Stephen King thrillers
in his backpack. He strolled down the main drag, and then veered onto a side street called Forest Way.

  The road narrowed gradually as he proceeded. Traffic grew scarce, buildings farther apart, and everything was decidedly quieter. Ahead, he could see that the street eventually dead ended into a dense wood. He imagined that a swamp land lay just through those trees.

  A tiny café called Java Enchantica with an outdoor terrace beckoned to him and he wandered to a black iron table to take a seat. The place was empty, save a waitress who abandoned a television show inside when she came out to tend to him.

  The waitress, a pretty mocha skinned teenager was boisterous and chatty, just as he'd imagined Enchanticans would be. Soon, she brought him the bagel and iced tea he ordered.

  It was just as he had withdrawn one of his books from his back pack, and lifted his bagel toward his lips that he saw her.

  The shock of it caused him to drop the bagel. It bounced off the plate, rolled across the small table, and fell to the patio's floor. He didn't even notice. He began to rise from his seat, gaping at the girl, but then sat back down.

  There were two girls who'd entered the patio and sat across the way from him. One of them was familiar. She looked different than he recalled her. At least she was dressed differently, in an oddly old fashioned blue jumper, a lacy white blouse, and black patent leather Mary Jane's. Her shining blonde hair curled neatly, and was held out of her face by a black bow and headband.

  The girl with her wore normal clothes for an average teenager and had deeply tan skin, as had most people he'd seen so far in Enchantica. But in sharp contrast, the girl he was familiar with, her skin was pale. Her face drawn… Her eyes wide. She wore a look that seemed frightened as she leaned close to her companion, whispering.

  Josh trembled slightly as he thought of his hometown, Faraway, Washington, for the first time in ages. After he'd closely followed the news of the spree of murders and subsequent disappearances, he'd laid his former life to rest. The crimes had enthralled him for months. In a way, he'd secretly thought Faraway got what it deserved. But in the end, the perpetrators were discovered and the mysteries solved. The town moved on, and so had Joshua Cross.

  Except, in the end, the whole thing had been left with one loose end. One unanswered question. One unsolved mystery. One still missing, presumed dead, Faraway teen.

  And as he lived and breathed, there he sat staring at her.

  Aspen Briar.

  Chapter 2

  "Aspen Briar?"

  The blonde girl startled so violently, it was as though Josh had screamed at her or grabbed her. In reality, he'd merely eased up behind her and quietly uttered her name.

  While her companion brandished an easy going, flirtatious smile, Aspen's eyes snapped to him and her face drained of color. She seemed tongue tied for a moment before finally speaking.

  "I'm sorry," she said meekly. "You've mistaken me for someone else."

  Hearing her voice confirmed concretely he was gazing down at Aspen Briar. His smile faded slightly. A myriad of emotions swirled inside him. He couldn't believe he'd encountered a person his old town mourned as dead. He would be a hero. And Aspen would be so grateful to him.

  Except, why was she denying her identity? Was she brainwashed? Suffering from Stockholm Syndrome? In some sort of danger?

  He studied her face for a long time. Her eyes remained locked in his. Something in her expression told him she recognized him. He was not mistaken.

  "I don't think so, Aspen," Josh said softly.

  Her cheeks reddened and she finally dropped her eyes. Then she looked at her friend. "Maisy, we'll have to meet another time, alright?"

  Maisy frowned. "Really? But I thought-"

  "Another time," Aspen interrupted. "I'll return to see you again soon."

  She gave her friend a piercing stare, and the girl dejectedly stood and slunk away. Josh and Aspen both watched as Maisy exited the patio and trudged away. Once she was well out of ear shot, Josh invited himself to take the seat Maisy had just vacated. Aspen's spine stiffened.

  "Aspen, I can help you," Josh whispered.

  Anger flashed in her eyes. "My name is Alice," she snapped. "I don't know any Aspen, and I don't know you!"

  "Listen," Josh replied, consciously working to keep his voice soothing. "Whatever you're afraid of, don't worry. I know it's you. I will keep you safe." He reached for her hand, hoping to comfort and reassure her.

  She jerked her hand away. "Stop!" she demanded, her voice rising slightly. "I'm only saying this once more. My name is not Aspen, it's Alice! You've made a mistake! Now please, I must ask that you leave me alone."

  Josh's heart plummeted. He didn't know exactly what to do. Perhaps Aspen had run away from Faraway just as he had. Perhaps she did not want to be found; to be returned.

  However, that didn't explain the fear in her eyes, or her timid, jumpy demeanor. An alarm sounded in Josh's mind. Without a doubt something was amiss. But he didn't know what to do. At that moment, he had no choice but to do as she asked. He gave her one more forlorn look and then rose to return to his own table.

  Just as he reached it, another oddly dressed person rushed onto the patio, bursting past Josh so quickly, it sent him slightly off kilter. He regained his balance and then dropped into his chair.

  Josh raised his book in front of his face, but kept his eyes trained on "Alice." The man who'd nearly knocked him down was dressed in crisp black slacks, a starched white shirt, and a pin striped vest. He had a smart bow tie and a golden watch chain could be seen draping from his vest pocket. He was a small man with a shock of wavy white hair; though he didn't look very old at all.

  "We're late!" the man cried. He seemed to vibrate with nervous energy. "Where's the girl?"

  Josh could barely hear Alice's response.

  "I… I had to let her go."

  "Alice!"

  "For now," she rushed on. "I'll return for her again soon!"

  The hyper man groaned. "Fine then," he grumbled. "Come on, we're late."

  Alice sighed, looking near tears. "Can't we stay just a while longer?"

  "NO!" the man bellowed. "WE'RE LATE!"

  Josh watched the man take Alice's hand and pull her to her feet. She hurried to keep up with his short, quick steps, though she was significantly taller than he.

  They left the patio and hurried down the street toward the forest that roosted at the dead end. Just as the odd pair parted a tangle of brambles and stepped into the trees, Josh leapt to his feet. He tossed a ten dollar bill on the table, grabbed his back pack, and headed after them at a dead run.

  ***

  When his foot stepped into the underbrush as he moved to dash into the woods, he stopped abruptly. The sound of the dried leaves and fallen twigs snapping beneath his feet died on the sweltering air. He waved his arms frantically trying to regain his balance with his other foot frozen in midair.

  He could see Alice and the small man vaguely through the darkness and trees though the foliage was so thick he couldn't make them out clearly. He saw Alice stumbling over objects on the forest floor as the small man continued to drag her along.

  They made no indication they'd heard him over the man's incessant, nasal chatter. Josh finally lowered his foot for a second step into the forest, creeping along laboriously slow so as to remain at an advantage of watching Alice without being observed.

  "Ansel!" Alice cried. "ANSEL! Please! Slow down!"

  On the white haired man dashed, seemingly as energetic as a rabbit. "We're late!" he shrieked.

  Alice groaned as she stumbled again. "For what?" she argued. "What exactly are we late for?"

  For once, the little man said nothing.

  "That's right," Alice said, jerking to a halt. The man called Ansel snapped back into her, and then pulled away, giving her an indignant look. "We aren't late for anything at all," Alice said softly, giving Ansel a sorrowful look. Josh crept still closer to the scene, afraid to draw so much as a breath.

  "So, ki
ndly, slow down," Alice demanded in a quiet, even tone.

  Ansel and Alice exchanged a strange glance, as though there was a sudden shift of authority. Josh had previously believed Ansel to be in charge of Alice. However, the look he gave her then suggested Ansel wished to control her, but knew he really only could if she allowed it.

  Josh frowned.

  Ansel took Alice's hand again but much more gently this time and he led her on at a more leisurely pace. Josh could see the tension it caused the little man to move so slowly, etched around his wild, darting eyes. And he noted Alice's smug, tight lipped smile. Something told Josh her small victories brought her great joy because they were sadly infrequent.

  How odd a pair Ansel and Alice made; two well-dressed people venturing on foot into what would no doubt end up a crocodile infested swamp. And of course there was Josh, the tourist who wouldn't see a croc coming until it bit off his foot. All of them strolling along to certain doom.

  Despite the heat, a shiver raced up his spine. He simply could not lose sight of "Alice."

  Each step increased Josh's anxiety. He knew he should turn back. The ground grew softer as they proceeded; his boots had begun to be coated with mud as he carefully slopped through the mire.

  And how much did he care about this "Alice" anyhow? Aspen Briar had been no friend of his. Just like virtually everyone else in Faraway, she'd not known he was alive.

  Well, he thought, at least she was never cruel or even unkind to me either. There was that.

  A stench permeated from the swampy woods that turned his stomach. He could hear the slap of bat wings as they fluttered in the trees not far above his head. He swatted at bugs as they lit on him, beginning to fear the possibility of some poisonous bite or sting.

  But Alice began to cry.

  The soft sound of her misery found him like black musical notes of a sad song. A long sliver stream of Spanish moss hanging from a tree limb caressed his face and he imagined her tears falling. He thought of them hitting the ground and splashing.

 

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