Page 38 of One Adult, Please

"I'll tie it. I'll make it shorter. I'll... okay, fine." I take off the cape, fold it, and put it in the tote bag. The cape will wait. The cape knows its time will come.

Three X's on the where picture. Periwinkle is running low. I switch to seafoam green because that's the next crayon in the box and adaptability is a leadership quality.

And now there's one building left.

The haunted house.

11

THE HAUNTED HOUSE HAS A NAME AND I'M NOT USING IT

GRACE

The Haunted House stands at the far end of the adventure part's main avenue, past the castle, past the forge, nestled into a fake mountainside that's made of painted concrete and theatrical lighting and the kind of architectural ambition that says "we want you to feel like you're entering another world" and currently says "we want you to feel like you're entering your own grave."

The entrance is a stone archway, fake stone, with torches, fake torches, that are still flickering because they're LED and LED doesn't care about the apocalypse. A sign above the arch reads ENCHANTED QUEST: DARE TO ENTER THE REALM OF MYSTERY AND WONDER! in a font that's trying to be spooky and achieving it better than intended.

"Absolutely not."

"Grace," Joel says. "We have to clear it. It's the last building."

"Then it can stay unclear. The realm of mystery and wonder can keep its mystery and its wonder. I'll be outside, in the sun, with my friendship paddle and my skull mugs, living my best life."

"There might be supplies inside," Beck says.

"Name one supply that's worth going into a haunted house for."

"The ride vehicles have battery packs. Industrial ones. We could use those for portable power."

I look at the archway. "I hate that you're right."

"I love that I'm right."

"Joel, he's right and I hate it."

"He's right," Joel says.

We go in.

The entrance corridor is narrow, themed to look like a castle hallway. Stone walls, fake, lined with suits of armor, also fake, holding swords and shields and standing in alcoves with the rigid posture of things that have never and will never move.

Except.

"Joel, is that one breathing?"

"It's a suit of armor, Grace."

"That armor is breathing. The chest plate. Watch the chest plate. It's moving."

All three of us stare at the suit of armor in the alcove. It's standing there completely inanimate.

"It's not breathing," Joel says.

"Beck, was it breathing?"

Beck tilts his head and examines the armor with his flashlight. "I mean... I don't think so? But now I'm going to think about it forever, so thanks for that."

We move past the armor. I keep the friendship paddle between me and it. The armor watches us pass with its empty visor stare.