The Carousel and Other Short Stories by Sharon Haste - HTML preview

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The Carousel

Bella hugs herself against the winter chill while Jed pockets the keys. She sniffs the air, feeling a childish thrill at the aroma of deep fried food and sweet waffles.

‘Ready?’

‘Yeah.’

Jed grabs her hand, and she resists the urge to skip, wanting to appear older than her fifteen years.

They join the waiting crowd, and Jed points to a ride with rows of seats high in the sky. Legs dangle and faint screams carry back to them. The Big Drop.

‘Check that out,’ he says.

She cranes to see.

‘Awesome. Imagine being up there.’

‘We’ve gotta go on that. Wonder what else they’ve got this year.’

She glances at his animated face. They're standing in line, waiting to enter the gates. Jed's eyes are beyond the fence; he is already scanning the grounds for the latest rides. Bella gazes at the yellow floral pattern on a woman’s dress in front. She frowns, searching for recognition in a memory from long ago.

The boy is holding her hand too tight, dragging her along. He has incredible strength for a little kid. She stumbles after him—trying to keep up—gasping for breath and clutching his warm, sticky fingers.

They follow a lady in a blue dress with yellow flowers. All Bella can see is the swish of her skirts when she moves and black shoes with tiny white bows at the back of her heels. They follow her past the ticket box through the gate. Once inside, a tall man blocks their view; he has a black camera dangling around his neck. They bolt past his legs and tear through the crowd on bare feet, deftly weaving a path.

Jed smiles and slings his arm over Bella’s shoulder. The photographer’s bulb flashes. Bella clutches his hand as they merge with the noisy crowd. Loudspeakers announce winning tickets, jumping events, Dagwood dogs, and rides that promise to thrill and excite. Carnival people dressed in black throw invitations and lurid remarks into the moving throng. Bella’s breath quickens, and her heart pounds.

Puffing hard, they collapse on the grass under the trees. They look a sight in dirty house clothes and no shoes, but neither cares. They pant, trying to catch their breath. The boy moves first, tugging her hand again. Bella digs her toes into the grass and pushes up. He dashes ahead, and she eyes his dirty white shirt so she doesn’t lose him.

A bright red balloon floats past, and she watches until it’s a speck in the sky. She gawps at bags stuffed with coloured floss and red apples on sticks, and she is frightened by men in dark singlets with bad teeth and unshaven faces. A man’s voice shouts about waffles and Dagwood dogs. She wonders what they are. Crackly country music blares above the din, reminding her of home. Her heart sinks, and she wants to cry. A glittering fairy, with a purple skirt, flies on the path ahead.

Jed tugs at Bella’s hand, impatient to move, but her eyes are following the painted white faces as they swing from side to side; she is hypnotised by their macabre and yawning smiles. She resists his insistent hand.

‘What’s up with you?’ he asks, eager to get going. ‘I thought you loved the show.’

Bella pales.

‘What’s going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

The brightly painted clowns loom above her, a man in a black shirt standing behind them. Her wide eyes track each head from side to side. Their eyes glare, and she waits for them to spring to life and swallow her whole. She holds her breath as two boys run up to the man and hand him their money. They stand on tiptoe and lean in close to roll white balls down the clowns’ throats. She’s desperate to warn them but watches instead, mute and helpless. A skinny man looks her way. His grin makes her turn and tear through the crushing crowd.

Jed catches up with Bella in sideshow alley. He grabs her arm, demanding that she slow down. She throws herself hard against his chest, blinking back tears.

‘What’s with you?’ he asks.

‘Nothin’,’ she says, peeling herself away and plucking a grin from nowhere. She avoids his gaze and grabs his hand. ‘Let’s go on The Big Drop.’

He frowns, jogging to keep up.

‘Geez, Bella, what’s up with you?’

She ignores the question, focussing on the ride.

‘This is meant to be wicked.’

She looks up as a seated row of people drop from the top amid squeals and laughter.

The boy is gone. She starts to cry, knowing she’s been left behind, and presses grubby fists into her eyes. The tears leave dirty trails on her cheeks. She stares at the sea of legs around her and a pair of navy trousers stop in front of her.

‘Hello, are you all right?’ a rasping voice inquires. ‘Have you lost your mummy?’

She stares at him, not knowing what to do. Blue eyes look through silver glasses. The man’s nose is big and red, and his dark hair is combed behind his ears. Holding out his hand, he offers to help find her mum. She continues to stare. There’s a picture of a lady stamped on his arm. She has no clothes on.

‘Come on, I’ll help find your mummy.'

He leans closer, smiling. He smells like her dad when he’s been down the road with Uncle Bill. His fingers are cool and envelope her tiny ones in a vice-like grip.

In the grandstand there are horses in the ring. She checks the seats for mum, but she can’t find her anywhere. The man sits close, his trouser leg touching the bare skin of her thigh. The horses dance with riders on their backs. Some walk sideways and whinny. She likes the white horse best and dreams of riding one of her own.

The carriage is a snug fit, and Bella is wedged between Jed and another boy. She wriggles to make room. A fat man slams the bar down in front of them. Butterflies dance inside her belly. Jed’s hand is on her thigh, and his shoulder is crammed against hers. He grins like a little kid. She smiles back. The ride jolts up a notch and begins to rise. Butterflies expand to serpents. She catches her breath as they crank higher and higher and leaves her stomach behind as they plummet to earth, the wind taking her breath.

The horses are gone now. The man is rubbing little circles on her arm. She doesn’t feel good.

Jed jumps about, animated. He laughs out loud. She laughs, too, amid deep breaths to settle her nausea.

‘Wicked! What a rush,’ he says.

‘Yeah, totally.’

‘Wanna go again?’

The grandstand is almost empty when the man stands and grips her hand. Her heart sinks as they leave the ring. They walk back to the crowd; distant screams, loud music, and voices fill the air. The man dawdles as if he has nowhere to go. Tinny music crackles from a speaker, and she looks up to see horses of a different kind. They are brightly painted and following each other’s tails, circling a golden pole. She loves the rainbow horses best. They’re so beautiful. They stand and watch awhile. The horses make her forget about the man and going home. A thin, wrinkled lady is helping kids on the ride. Her beady eyes dart their way.

‘Wanna ride?’

The man nods, reaching for his wallet. Her heart leaps, and she hops from foot to foot, eyeing her favourite horse. The lady moves to help her mount, but the man rushes in, lifting her up. His hand is under her bottom, and the sick feeling returns. She feels the cool hardness of the horse and then his hand on her leg. Her horse is rainbow. She leans over and presses herself against the horse, arms flung around her neck. She names her Beauty. The tinny music plays as Beauty starts to move. She closes her eyes, feeling a thrill deep inside, as they glide together. Her heart sings as she becomes one with her beautiful horse, riding over fields far away. She urges her to go faster, but Beauty slows instead. She opens her eyes, and the man is waiting. Her heart sinks. She doesn’t want to leave her horse. Strong arms lift her, and she stares at Beauty over his shoulder. She looks at the old lady, eyes pleading, but the lady looks away. She feels her feet touch the ground and turns with force and runs. She weaves through the crowd, her heart hammering and legs pumping as fast as they can go.

They stop outside the shooting gallery. Jed pulls his wallet from his back pocket.

‘Watch this! I’ll get you one of those.’

He points at the top shelf prizes and hands his money to a man with greasy hair. Jed picks up his rifle. Carousel music fills the air. The man leans in and grins, his breath rancid with beer. A tattoo of a naked woman adorns the skin above his wrist. Bella draws a shaky breath, watching Jed aim his rifle. Bang.

Her heart lifts at the familiar green dress and brown hair. She’s talking to a man in navy trousers. Mum spies her over the man’s shoulder and shouts her name. Bella runs to her, heart singing. She’s almost to her arms when the man turns. She sees the stamp of a naked lady on his arm as he places it around her mum’s shoulder.