Page 9
“The hotdogs are best avoided I think, unless we want bad stomachs for a week.” I give the dilapidated sign the side-eye again, but head toward it. We promised Ophelia this, and we’ve rented it out for the night. Perhaps we should have driven out here to check the place out first, but we’re here now.
Ophelia glances around at the lack of vehicles. Other than some trucks that look as though they belong to the funfair, the place is suspiciously empty. There’s a sign that says Closed for Private Event, and Cain moves to block it with his body.
“Where is everyone?” she asks. “I thought this place would be busy.”
Roman shrugs. “You wanted to come when it was quiet.”
This seems to placate her for the moment, though from the twin divots between her brows, she’s definitely suspicious.
As we reach the small ticket booth, I glance around. There’s no one about. But then a man of medium height but stocky build runs up, a little out of breath.
“Hey, guys, sorry about that. You Roman?”
Roman steps forward. “Yep, that’s me. Thanks for doing this, man.”
“Doing what?” Ophelia asks.
“Just you wait and see.” I boop her nose, and she giggles, the sound warming my heart.
Roman hands over a huge wad of notes, and Ophelia’s eyes widen. Is she starting to guess that he’s rented this place out just for her?
“The place is all yours,” the man says.
Her eyes widen even farther, and Roman hooks his arm around her neck and leads her through the gaping maw of the clown entrance. Cain follows, but I hang back to mutter quietly to the man.
“Can you make sure the cotton candy stall is up and running? She wants some.”
“Yes, sir.”
Something about his reply rubs me the wrong way, like he’s holding back a mock salute. It’s polite on the surface, but I swear condescension simmers right under that surface. I wonder if it’s the money. Even though he’s made bank on us being here, the flashing around of so much cash probably makes us look like we think we’re better than him.
“Anything else?” he asks.
“Yeah, are the rides going to be safe, if it’s just us?”
“Of course, everything is well maintained here.”
I almost let my scoffed laugh escape but, once again, bite it back.
“Okay. Well, thanks.”
He watches me as I rush to catch up with the others. The floor is sticky already, even though they’ve only been open a few nights. Discarded corn kernels pop and crunch under my feet, and to the right is a half-eaten candy apple. They need to hire better cleaners.
Cain hangs back and slings an arm over my shoulder. “What’s up? You look pissed.”
“It’s just… a bit tawdry, no?”
He laughs. “Yeah, I guess so, but we’ve all been to something like this when we were kids. She never had that experience. We’re giving it to her now.”
“When do we get the robes?” I keep my voice low so she doesn’t overhear.
“Let’s take her on a few rides, and then we can head over to the funhouse, and I’ll go grab them then. You got your mask?”
It’s tucked down the back of my jeans and hidden with the bottom of my shirt, and I pat the back of my jeans twice to show that I have.
In front of us, a ride lets out a hydraulic hiss, and another has an engine rumbling low and deep. Overlaying it all is the off-kilter tone of calliope music from somewhere nearby. I’ve always hated the slightly discordant sound of it. Gives me the fucking creeps.
Ophelia draws to a halt. “Come on, guys, what’s going on? I know I asked for it to be quiet, but seriously, where is everyone?”
