He felt his shoes losing grip on the cold cement. His legs had become weak with fear and it was like he was running on a frozen lake. This was the only time he began to regret not joining a sport. He was on the run and he was loose.
Every story has its beginning but this one stems from a hazy past unknown to even the oldest member of Oakwood. But Chris’ story is all too real. From behind large monumental canopies and trailers with their crisp, colorful paint depicting childhood imaginations of clowns and tightrope walkers, hideous creatures squished and waddled, growled and groaned, gathering a hunger for life beyond the reaches of their bodies.
Pluto’s Electrifying Traveling Carnival. The name echoed through the aging walls of the small town, announcing the arrival of the eccentric carnival that tore through the silence that cloaked the streets throughout the year. The people of Oakwood didn’t look at the leaves and their orange attire against the cold to acknowledge a change of seasons. Instead, they trained their ears to twitch as soon as they detected the bouncy carnival music that seeped in below doors. And then, with a gasp, they declared Fall had arrived.
For Chris, his first time at the carnival was a bleak memory. Though he was now a 16-year-old, still adjusting to his longer legs and lanky arms that bumped into every table in front of them, there was still a cool feeling that fizzed from the bottom of his stomach when he saw the Ferris wheel poke out through the cluster of pine trees, like some ancient dinosaur that stopped to look at how the world had changed after so many years. Not one person in town could keep their teeth from peeking out from the small red barriers. Pluto’s Electrifying Traveling Carnival had become and old tradition, and every year from the window of his room, Chris would look out and wait for the pink, yellow and green stars to ignite the night sky.
Last year, Chris was able to meet the almighty ring leader. He was a legend with his black top hat and velvet suit, standing beneath the bright white lights and the excitement of over-enthusiastic kids. He was a Greek god manifested into reality. Even parents squirmed with excitement upon seeing him. Chris always dreamed of falling under his mentorship and one day taking over as ring leader. But this year, Chris became wary of something. He began going at night with his friends and heard things beneath the carnival music and laughter, something that wasn’t present all those years he’d gone during the day. Something moved restlessly beneath the ground. The sound was soft but gradually grew in power, almost like an ongoing low growl that all the rides were incapable of making.
After a sleepless week, Chris decided to investigate. He spent two nights looking behind crates, broken-down rides, and vendors until he found a small black tent on the third night. It sat at the very back of the lot the town kept empty for the carnival. There was a faint light, probably from a candle, coming out from the small entrance. He had gone around to the back and looked in through a small slit in the tent. There he was, Mr. Chuck Bones, the ring leader, but the glam and greatness was gone. Bones’ costume was off and in its place was a thin set of hair that didn’t cover much of the scalp, greenish skin that slightly sagged into bumpy wrinkles and twig-like fingers.
However, it was the absence of a spark in Bones’ eyes that Chris remembered the most. They had become two vacant holes, absent of any emotion, staring at pictures of kids Chris went to school with. Up on a bulletin board was his yearbook picture with a bright red circle around his face, and beneath it the word, “HEART.”
It took another week for Chris to process what he had seen, until finally he decided to do an investigation after closing hours.He feared something wasn’t right about Bones, and although terribly afraid, Chris was attracted to the mystery he’d become part of.
Chris set out on his own one midnight. Walking into the carnival, he was surprised to see how dead and ugly everything looked without all the lights. It was like looking at the sagging corpse of an animal. The normally flashy front entrance resembled one out of an “Addams Family” movie. A walk further inside showed more signs of death and darkness as the carnival rides sputtered their last few breaths, and the smell of cotton candy and popcorn dissipated under a musty atmosphere of sweat.
A screechy voice spoke loudly from all directions almost instantly after Chris walked in.
“You finally came,” Bones spoke slowly as he walked out from one of the many shadows. “I’ve been waiting for you for a long time, Chris.”
Suddenly, Chris remembered the old pictures his grandfather had shown him from his childhood days. They were vague, in his memory but yes! In one of them, Chuck Bones appeared in the background with the same dead eyes, same everything, including his age.
“Don’t be scared,” Bones interrupted, as if he knew what Chris was thinking. “You’ll be part of the carnival forever. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
After that, Chris didn’t wait a second longer to find out what Bones wanted. He knew and he began to run. He was running and he was tired and scared but couldn’t get anywhere. The whole lot was a merry-go-round and he was trapped. He was loose.
