Of the Trees

by E. M. Fitch

  “All set!” the man called. The Ferris wheel lurched back to life, swinging them higher by a few feet and then stopping with a squeal, allowing enough time to get the next couple on the seat below them.

  “Don’t happen to have a screwdriver on you?” Cassie asked, watching the people below grow smaller as they swung higher. Ryan leaned over her, checking the bar, and she could smell hints of the sandalwood cologne he must have used.

  “I think it’ll be okay,” he said, leaning back in his seat and grinning at her. His arm came to rest along the back of the seat. There were no more people waiting to get on the ride, and the wheel swung now in a continuous arc. “I’ll do my best to catch you if we tip.”

  “You’re not funny,” she said, smacking his leg. He laughed.

  “Whatever, you know you love it.” His voice was deeper, teasing, but serious, too.

  Cassie’s breath caught as she locked eyes with him. It was there, somewhere in his gaze, a challenge. She had felt it before, and it had been happening more and more frequently. An unsettling flurry erupted in her stomach, and she bit her lip. The moment broke when he knocked his knee into hers and grinned. She smiled back, though it faltered.

  He talked normally as the wheel spun, telling her about the new cold-weather sleeping bag his uncle had gotten him as an early birthday present. Ryan was always excited to expand his hiking equipment. He was just mentioning that he wanted to pack it for his hike this week when he squinted out over the carnival.

  “Where’s Laney going?” he asked, leaning over the rail. Cassie and Ryan were nearing the peak again when he pointed over the carnival. Cassie looked out into the night and could just make out the top of her friend’s head, bobbing through the crowd. “Looks like she’s following Jessica.”

  Cassie frowned. That was odd. Jessica and Laney knew each other. It was a small town. But they weren’t exactly friends. The only common thread at all was Cassie, and that was only because Laney sometimes came to cheer her on at softball. It was strange, but Laney was definitely following Jessica, headed right across the carnival with her.

  “Why isn’t Jon going after her?” Cassie asked, frowning. Jon was going off as well, though in completely the opposite direction. Unsurprisingly, there was a group of girls in tight clothing in the direction he was headed. No real shock there. Ryan shrugged as something else caught Cassie’s attention. A guy in a black-hooded sweatshirt, sandy hair falling into his face, stood next to the ride operator, staring up at them. His gaze followed her, his chin bobbing up and down slowly with the revolution of the giant, metal wheel. Cassie felt her stomach muscles clench in discomfort, and she gritted her teeth, pulling her attention back toward Ryan.

  “Laney’s a big girl,” Ryan was saying. “You don’t always need to watch out for her.”

  “She does stupid things.” Cassie sighed, ignoring the tingling at the base of her spine. The Ferris wheel was dropping them low again, swooping over the ground and swinging back up. Cassie kept her eyes on Ryan, ignoring the piercing stare from the creep next to the ride operator.

  “It’s not your job to look out for her, though. She has parents.”

  “Her parents don’t know half the things—”

  “And neither do yours,” Ryan interrupted with a smile. Cassie rolled her head toward him, the corner of her mouth pulling down in concession.

  “True,” she admitted.

  “All I’m saying is, give worrying about Laney a rest for a while. Maybe worry about something else for a change,” Ryan said, a teasing quality to his voice.

  “Like what, for example?”

  “You mean besides dying in a freak Ferris wheel accident?” he asked, grinning.

  “Right, of course, besides that,” Cassie answered, looking once more to the shaky handle. Ryan didn’t answer for a moment, and when Cassie looked back at him, he wouldn’t meet her eye. The ride brought them shakily higher. Looking out, the carnival was a brilliant spot of light in an otherwise darkened town. Trees, tall but not as tall as the ride, were black against the velvet night sky, just discernible by the gentle sway of the branches. There were stars, but Cassie couldn’t see them; the carnival was too bright. So the sky above them was a massive black curtain, encapsulating the town and their one spot of brilliant light.

  Ryan cleared his throat, glancing over at her. “What about the Homecoming Dance?”

  “I should worry about that?” Cassie asked, her eyebrows raised.

  “No,” Ryan answered. “I mean, some people worry about getting asked.”

  “Oh,” Cassie dismissed, waving her hand. “No worries here.”

  “Did someone ask you?” he asked quickly.

  Cassie locked eyes with Ryan and then felt her features go slack as the seat beneath her trembled. Her muscles locked, her whole body alert as the car shuddered, and then swayed underneath them. The metal bolt that attached their seat to the circular frame of the Ferris wheel groaned, the side Cassie sitting on lurching suddenly. The carriage jerked, and Cassie slid away from Ryan. She screamed, but the sound was lost in the music and chatter of the carnival below her. Before she hit the end of the seat, she put her hand out, gripping the metal side of the carriage hard enough to hurt her fingers, but halting her movement. Her other arm reached behind her, groping for something solid to grab. Her fingernails slid along the slick, plastic seat cushioning before they found the taut muscle of Ryan’s thigh and clung hard enough to bruise.

  “I got you,” he said, slow and deliberate. She felt the pinch of his grip on her forearm and whimpered.

  Below, everything seemed normal, almost otherworldly; the music creaked and groaned, people laughed and called out, there were screams of excitement, but none of fear. Cassie couldn’t see the ride operator, couldn’t focus on anyone below. Ryan had barely muttered an expletive before the side bolt holding the car to the frame snapped with a pang that echoed over the raucous air of the carnival. Cassie could hear it, could feel it when the bolt holding her side of the seat to the wheel frame gave. She slid back toward the falling end of the seat, her feet dangling over open air for a horrifying moment before she felt the tug from Ryan, and she pushed with her other arm on the solid, dangling end of the Ferris wheel car.

  A scream erupted from her lips past a horrible pressure that had built in her throat. Ryan yelled for help, bellowing over the music that seemed louder and more obtrusive by the second. Cassie could feel the bruises forming where his fingers dug into her arm. Her feet scrambled, trying to find purchase on the swaying floor of the hanging car and slipping. She cried out, the ground swinging in and out of view directly below her, hazy with light and the dark pull of the bare earth.

  Someone below finally noticed what was going on above. The Ferris wheel ground to a halt as a woman screamed, piercing the night air with the sound of terror. Cassie was jolted as the ride stopped, but the momentum was enough for her to kick her feet up. Her sneakers connected with the hanging end of the car, and she pushed herself up, sliding into Ryan’s lap. Her legs were outstretched, keeping her body taut across the seat. She stretched up, reaching for the wheel frame their car had not yet separated from. One of Ryan’s hands was already there, the other left her forearm and wrapped around her stomach, keeping her in place.

  “Just don’t move, okay,” he said, his muscles tight underneath her.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” Cassie said through gritted teeth, her fingers white as they tightened around the metal wheel.

  The ride jerked into action, slowly this time, as people shouted encouragement, warning them not to let go. Ryan’s hand was slick and hot as it dug into her side, and her body felt frozen, locked into position as the ground loomed closer.

  The terror from below was slowly changing to shouts of triumph; the young survivors closing in on success as the wheel spun them to the earth. Something low dug into the subconscious of Cassie’s mind, laughed in quiet, mocking tones. She heard it softly, like the breath after l
aughter, and she gritted her teeth in anger that any one of those spectators would find this even remotely funny.

  Subversively, without her even consciously thinking of it, Cassie knew which of the spectators would be laughing.

  The wheel jerked to a stop over the platform, and Cassie swung her feet down, her eyes closing in relief as her boots found the solid surface of the Ferris wheel landing. Ryan’s fingers trailed from her stomach, and he hopped down after her. The ride operator was already barking reassurances to the rest of the people still on the ride, jerking his head toward the exit without even an apology. The crowd swooped them up, patting them on the back. One person even thrust his phone in Cassie’s face, showing her the picture he snapped after she had climbed into Ryan’s lap. She felt her features contort in anger, her mouth flying open before the pull of Ryan’s fingers dragged her away.

  “Did you see that?” Cassie asked, gesturing back at the guy with the phone.

  “Yeah,” Ryan muttered. “I bet he’ll sell copies.”

  “They didn’t even say sorry! We could have died!”

  “Well, I’m sorry,” Ryan said, pulling her to a stop behind a row of games. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m—” Cassie broke off, finally taking her angry gaze off the crowd and the unconcerned ride attendant and looking up at Ryan. He was staring down at her, his brow furrowed in concern, his gaze raking over her features, searching for some sign of hurt. “Yeah, I’m fine. You?”

  “I’m good,” he said, offering a wry grin, trying to dismiss the fear. “Probably not going on it ever again, but other than that …”

  Cassie gave his shoulder a push. “Your thing sucks.”

  He laughed, shrugging. “Let’s go find the others.”

  “She went this way, right?” Cassie asked, turning to Jon. He had come running back as soon as he saw the commotion at the base of the Ferris wheel, groaning because he wished he had gone on it, now that its breaking was the most exciting thing that had happened all night.

  “I think so,” he answered, but shrugged. Cassie shook her head. They had waited for Laney by the Ferris wheel for twenty minutes. She hadn’t returned. Jon had offered to drive Cassie home, but that wasn’t really the point. Laney shouldn’t have just left her. Cassie had taken off in the direction she and Ryan had seen her heading, but the area seemed to be empty. The night was ending, and the crowd thinning. It should have made it easier to find Laney, but it only made it more frustrating when they couldn’t.

  “Hey, Ryan, I can’t stay too much longer,” Jon said under his breath. Cassie knew Jon’s mother had a thing about curfew. It was one thing for Jon to sneak out, like he did last night, without his mother knowing. It was another thing altogether to come home late when she was expecting him.

  “Couple more minutes,” Ryan whispered back. Cassie knew it was for her benefit, he didn’t want to leave her stranded.

  “I can always call my dad,” Cassie said. She spun in a slow circle, scanning the perimeter of the carnival. Some of the booths were turning out their lights, the music was slowing, a giant wind-up toy winding down for the night. The vendors were finally starting to get loud, calling across to each other, one cursing when the door to his booth got stuck. Cassie was sure she heard the distinctive pop of a beer can opening. The bruises left on her arm from Ryan’s fingers were pulsating uncomfortably. Ticket stubs and gravel crunched underfoot when she moved, and the air smelled of fried food and sweat.

  “We’re not gonna leave you,” Ryan argued, coming to stand beside her. She paused to smile at him, and when she looked back to the edge of the lights, a petite brunette popped into view out of nowhere.

  “No need.” Cassie sighed. “There she is.”

  “Finally,” Jon muttered. He tugged on Ryan’s arm, and after Cassie nodded at him to go, the boys turned toward the parking lot and left. She jogged over to where Laney was, laughing with someone out of sight.

  “What the hell, Laney?” Cassie said as soon as she was in earshot. “You’re my ride, where did you—”

  “Cass!” Laney exclaimed, turning from the darkness of the shadow behind an empty carnival booth to face her friend. Her eyes glowed in excitement, and she looked as though she could have started squealing. “Cassie, I’ve met someone.”

  A boy … No, a man … stepped out from behind the carnival booth. He wasn’t tall, not much taller than Cassie even, but he was narrow, and the lines of him were deceiving so that it added height. The planes of his face were worn and tan, and yet there was something about his eyes that showed youthful brightness in the brown irises, some carefree smoothness of his brow that made Cassie double check that this man wasn’t closer to her own age. But no, something else, something in the way his mouth tightened and his gaze was all too knowing made her suddenly fearful.

  “Laney, you were supposed to drive me home, remember?”

  “Huh? Oh, yeah, I know,” Laney said, tearing her gaze from this stranger and fixing her speculative look on Cassie. “But I wanted to introduce you.”

  “Hello,” the man spoke, and again, there was something in his tone that spoke of age even as his voice was that of a teenager. He held out his hand, lined and dirty looking, for Cassie to shake. She did so tentatively and jumped when the hand that encased hers was soft and warm, the grip steady as it held her for a moment.

  “I saw you wander away with Jess,” Cassie said. She found she was having trouble looking away from his face. It was so incongruous with the rest of him. He was older than they were, as least twice as old. He had to be. There were lines around his eyes, despite the smoothness of his forehead. His skin looked rough; his knuckles crisscrossed with a fine web of wrinkles that you could only just see. Yet, he held himself with an easy loping grace, casually observing them in a stance that screamed teenager with a confidence that roared experience. It was beyond disconcerting. A tingle rose in the base of Cassie’s scalp, a dread that had no real place on the edge of a carnival with dozens of strangers still wandering behind them.

  Or were the dozens of strangers still there? Cassie looked behind her. All the flashing lights were shut down, the rides were silent and still, and nothing was moving. The music had cut off, and the noise that colored the background now consisted of scuffling feet and the rattle of garbage cans being emptied. Most of the people were gone. Again, the pop of a beer can hissed and someone muttered a curse word. Cassie dragged her attention back to Laney, only to find her still staring at her new friend with a look that bordered on adoration.

  “Laney,” Cassie said, shouting her name when her friend didn’t turn immediately.

  “What?”

  “Jess?”

  “Oh, right, she was with me.”

  “Well, where is she now?” Cassie asked, irritation starting to creep over the trepidation. It was late now, the carnival was definitely over and mostly cleared out. She didn’t have a curfew, and Laney probably didn’t either, but she knew her father would be waiting up for her. Besides all that, she was irritated with Laney. She was angry that her friend would wander off, not apologize, and then ignore her when it was clearly time to go.

  “She’s with Jude.” It wasn’t Laney who answered, and Cassie felt her gaze drawn once more to the stranger, drawn by the melodic voice of the man who was clearly … he was, wasn’t he? … at least twice her age. Irritation rippled over her skin again, and she felt more outside of herself than within, her teeth gritted and her jaw clenched.

  “So, go get her,” Cassie said, her voice cold and demanding. Surprise lit his features and from somewhere behind him, some shadow she couldn’t see into, a laugh reverberated.

  “Cass!” Laney gasped, knocking her with an elbow. “You don’t have to be rude!”

  “I need her,” Cassie said, sparing her friend one withering glance before glaring off into the shadows. “Jessica Evans! You get out here now!”

  Beyond the laugh, someone giggled. “I’m coming, coming,” said a slu
rred voice. From behind the booth, Jessica stumbled.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Cassie asked, stepping toward her. Once she had passed the corner of the booth, she could see a large group of people. Some sitting on the dusty ground, a collection of boots and sneakers, all mingled with empty beer cans and one lonely wine bottle. A big man, the one Cassie had seen Jessica speaking with early, stood and followed her from the shadows. In his large, meaty fist, two bottles of beer hung from between fingers. The caps were off, and they glistened with condensation.

  “Either of you want—”

  “No!” Cassie said forcefully, catching Jessica as she tipped into her arms. “We need to go. Curfew.”

  “Please.” Laney laughed, moving forward. Her hand lifted slowly from her side, reaching toward the stranger. “Since when do you have a curfew?”

  “Laney!” Her voice was sharp, a crack of a whip in the still night air. Her friend frowned, but her hand dropped back to her side. Cassie saw a wistful smile when Laney turned to face her strange friend.

  “I guess we better go,” Laney said, her gaze still fixed on the man leaning casually against the booth.

  “Her, too?” asked the big one. His massive hand, still clenching the bottles, rose up and swiped the sweat from his forehead. The condensation from the bottles leaked down the side and dripped onto his stained tank top.

  “Yeah,” Cassie said, hoisting Jessica up firmly in her arms. “Her dad is waiting for her in the parking lot.”

  The lie came from nowhere, and it was a stupid one that they could check easily. But they didn’t argue. Not one of them offered to help carry the drunk girl to the car. Cassie didn’t care because she was absurdly grateful for that fact. She moved quickly, as quickly as she could, while Jessica’s head lolled on her shoulder, humming a tune that Cassie had never heard before. She thought maybe it was a classical piece or even Celtic, which was weird because she never would have thought that Jessica listened to classical music; she was more a hip-hop fan if she was anything. Maybe her parents or some family friend played it. It was pretty anyway.