Dusk surrenders to full darkness as the boys, wheels spewing gravel, skid to a stop in front of the derelict amusement park. George and Henry straddle their bikes as they stare into the murky depths of the abandoned site. Faded warning signs, hanging askew, festoon the chain link fence.
PRIVATE PROPERTY. KEEP OUT! DANGER! NO TRESSPASSING!
The park closed after a string of mysterious disappearances and bizarre accidents in the late 1950s. The city tried to negotiate with the owner to sell the property. The owner reluctantly agreed to meet a prospective buyer. An attorney for the city council brought the buyer to visit the site. The attorney waited outside while the prospective buyer went into the haunted house. When the man didn’t come out after 15 minutes, he went up the stairs and stood in front of the door. He hesitated with his hand hovering over the knob. He shuddered and pulled his hand back and went to the window. He put his face close to the dirty glass and shaded his eyes to see past his reflection. He stumbled back, spun around, and lurched down the stairs. He ran, stumbling, from the park. Within one day he resigned his position as attorney for the city council and moved to another county.
A year later, the city council arranged for a conglomerate from Taiwan to evaluate the site for commercial development. They were hopeful when the owner agreed to meet the delegation. The conglomerate removed its offer after their scouting team made a visit. The group met the dissonantly charming owner at the park and within five minutes, they hurriedly left the grounds, went straight to the airport, and got on the next available flight out of the country.
The city council discussed their concerns and options for the property. But, since it is privately owned, they are limited in what they can do.
One councilwoman proposed using eminent domain to seize the park. That councilwoman had a nervous breakdown and resigned her seat within one week of making the proposal. Councilman Cardel pushed the council to condemn the park and seize it as a danger to the community. Cardel was sure the owner would sell under threat of losing the valuable property. It just so happened that he had an investment company that was interested in developing in that area.
Councilman Cardel resigned in disgrace as damaging information that tied him to criminal activity mysteriously surfaced. The city council never mentioned the property again. Over time, the park casts a barrier of amnesia between itself and the outside world. Once away from it, it is out of sight, out of mind.
It sits, dark and grim, to this day. It continues to inspire stories of demonic possession, ghosts, killer clowns, and other delightfully frightening bugaboos to enjoy over a campfire or sleep-over. Kids ride by and dare one another to go in. None are willing to go closer than the access road.
Henry and George look at the signs and then at one another. They know the stories.
“Look. George. We have to do this.”
“We shouldn’t have taken the dare,” George says.
“Oh…right. Like we had a choice.”
George nods grimly.
Henry and George, newly minted seventh graders, expected teasing from the older students. What they didn’t expect was to be the targets of two other seventh graders.
Eugene and Hawkins, new to the school, wasted no time in establishing themselves as the dominant species at the top of the food chain. Much to the relief of the other students, they zeroed in on Henry and George.
No one knows where Eugene and Hawkins came from or where they live. They just appeared one day together and enrolled. The students, and some teachers, give them a wide berth; and it isn’t just the faint carrion odor that envelops them.
It is not unusual for Henry and George to share a lunch when one or the other is forced to ‘loan’ his lunch money to the brawny duo. The boys try to avoid them, but, it’s as if they are shiny red blips on the Eugene and Hawkins radar.
Henry came to live with his Gramps when his parents were killed in a car accident. He was two years old. They live next door to George and his single mom. George is like a brother to Henry and a second grandson to Gramps. The boys do everything together. That includes being the favored chew toys of Eugene and Hawkins.
The boys lean their bikes against the fence. Lacing their fingers in the chain links, they quietly contemplate the park.
"What can we get that will prove we were here?” George whispers.
“I don’t know. We’ll find something. We go in and the first thing we see we grab and get out,” Henry whispers back.
“Why are we whispering?” George whispers.
“Um…don’t know,” Henry whispers.
George clears his throat and speaks in a normal volume. “Okay. Anyway, they were lying about it being haunted. Right?”
“Pfft…I’m not afraid of a stupid ghost,” Henry scoffs. The knot in his stomach suggests otherwise.
“And the part about the carnivorous clown…just to scare us. Right?”
“George, that just means the clown eats meat. You’re a carnivore.”
“I know that, but I’m not talking hot dogs here!”
Henry squares his shoulders. “Come on. It’s getting dark. We have to get back before Gramps gets home.”
They begin to climb the fence. A small gust of wind gently caresses their cheeks. It carries an
almost imperceptible murmur of laughter. The boys freeze.
“Wh…wh…what was that? Did you hear that?”
“We are so going to die.” George hangs his head.
They shriek and jump down when a bike skids up to the fence behind them.
“Gramps! What are you doing here?” Henry and George say in unison.
“You didn’t think I was going to let you two go in there alone, did you?”
“How did you know? Gramps, we can’t…”
“I know…I’ll let you two handle those boys. But I’m going into the park with you. It’s easy to get lost in there.”
“Thanks, Gramps,” Henry and George say gratefully.
“Okay! Let’s do this!” Gramps leads the way. As soon as he locks his fingers in the chain links, the gate rattles and swings open. They step back and look at one another.
“Hmph.” Gramps looks into the park. He turns back to the boys and raises his eyebrows. He nods his head toward the park and goes in. Henry follows Gramps.
The fairway lights sputter and spark to life. They hear the music of the merry-go-round crank up and tinkle with sweet innocence. The colorful lights burn fiercely against the inky darkness of the night.
“Are you nuts? What are you doing?” George yells after them.
Gramps looks back and says, “We’ve been invited in…”
“Exactly! By who?”
“Whom.”
George grumbles but follows his friend and Gramps in.
“Okay…okay…but, whomever shows himself…”
“Whoever.”
“How about ‘what’? What invited us?” George raises his arms in frustration.
“Come on, George. We’re here now. We gotta do this.”
“Okay…but anything…anything that shows Itself! Especially a clown…I see a clown and I am outta here!”
Gramps startles at the mention of a clown, but then leads the way. The three walk their bikes further in. They freeze when they hear the gate creak and turn to watch the gate clang shut behind them.
“Okay. That’s not good,” George mutters.
“It’s probably movement sensors…all automatic. Nothing to worry about. There’s the bike rack.” Gramps says. They put their bikes into the slots and start down the fairway. The teasing aroma of hot dogs, buttery popcorn, and sweet cotton candy cajoles them deeper into the park. It looks like any gaily lit amusement park except that the fairway is deserted.
“Not a soul in sight,” Gramps says.
“That’s a good thing. Right?” Henry offers.
George and Gramps are silent.
“Or not,” Henry says under his breath.
They continue down the fairway. The carnival music has a slight discordance under its tinkling innocence that begins to make their skin crawl. They hurry along trying to shake off the creeping sense of fear.
Gramps goes to the cotton candy wagon and pulls a paper cone off the stack. He hesitates and then sticks it into the wagon. He twists and turns the cone as it fills with the pink spun fluff. Gramps pulls it out and turns it around studying it. He leans his head toward the innocent fluffy confection.
“Gramps, you’re not going to eat that, are you?” George grabs Gramps’ arm.
“No. Just want to…see if it’s real.” He puts his nose close and takes a sniff. The pink fluff shoots off the cone and gloms onto his face. It spreads over his nose and mouth as tentacles snake out and wrap around his head.
“Gramps!” the boys scream.
“Ah…ah…’ Gramps struggles to breathe as he twists, turns, and pulls at the writhing squealing mass.
The boys grab napkins to help Gramps. They dodge the whipping tentacles as they peel the goop off of Gramps’s face. George leans back as one tentacle attempts to attach to his neck. They slam it to the ground and jump back from the squirming glob of belligerent goo. It thrashes and squirms. Finally, squeaking piteously, it dissolves into a noxious rosy puddle.
“Okay. I’m okay.” Gramps gulps in air and shivers. His face has blotches that look like a demented octopus latched on to him.
“Ugh - let’s be careful what we touch, okay?”
“Maybe we should just find something - that doesn’t eat us - to prove we were here and get out,” Henry says.
“We will. But, we’re here now. Let’s look around,” Gramps says as he forges ahead.
The boys look after Gramps.
“Who’s the grown-up here? Isn’t he supposed to stop us?” Henry looks at George.
“We better not get separated. Come on.”
Henry and George step around the still wheezing puce puddle and trot to catch up with Gramps. The goo shoots our one last feeble tentacle trying to snag George’s shoe. He kicks it away and runs after Henry. The goo’s tentacle emits a final gurgle and plops to the ground. It shivers through a rainbow of iridescent pinks, purples violets, and finally, settles on cadaver gray.
The boys hurry down the fairway to catch up with Gramps. They reach the end of the lane. They look both ways and then turn right and walk down a lane lined with tents and attractions. The lane bends around to the left. They are on a short lane that ends in cul-de-sac. The haunted house shimmers in the center of the turn-around.
Gramps stops. “No. No. Let’s stay away from the haunted house.”
“What’s wrong, Gramps? I mean, other than the whole deserted park thing. And the killer cotton candy thing. And the haunted house thing…” George asks.
Henry looks up at Gramps. “Did something happen when you were here before? Something about the haunted house?”
“Nothing! Anyway, it was a long time ago. I was a kid. My imagination got the best of me.”
“Well- at least there aren’t any killer clowns,” George offers helpfully.
Gramps stops and looks sharply at George. He shudders and moves on.
George pales.
“Don’t say that!” Henry whispers.
“What? Why?” George whispers.
They run to catch up with Gramps. They retrace their steps but nothing looks the same. They round another curve and see the haunted house shimmer into view.
“We got turned around,” Gramps mutters.
The haunted house shimmers and fades in and out like a desert mirage on a hot highway. It shivers and then shoots out to engulf them.
“Gramps!”
“This way!” Gramps and the boys duck into the nearest tent. The lights of the fairway silhouettes grotesque shapes on the canvas walls. The center is a pool of darkness.
“Ew. It smells like roadkill in here,” Henry says.
They stand still giving their eyes a chance to adapt to the darkness. The canvas flap ripples and Henry pulls Gramps and George away. When they turn to investigate the interior an intense beam of light blinds them. There is a sound of gears whirring as if from an old reel to reel projector. George is fascinated by the motes of dust cavorting in the flickering light.
Gramps grabs both boys and pulls them back toward the entrance. They hear snuffling and growling and what sounds like feet dragging through the dirt coming toward them from the ink black pool in the center of the tent.
With unspoken mutual agreement, they back out of the tent. They step out of the tent onto the clutching wood of the porch of the haunted house. The door swings open and the porch ripples pushing them toward the shimmering black maw.
Gramps lifts each boy and pulls them free of the grasping wood. They stumble back into the tent and the garish bright light of the movie projector. They find themselves in a gray and black cartoon Escher landscape. The lines and angles are slightly off causing them to feel disoriented. Henry gasps when he sees a giant cartoon bear charging at them.
“Gramps! Look!” Henry screams.
They can’t tell if it is a projection coming toward them or if the cartoon creature is coming up behind them.
Gramps, clutching their hands, takes off running.
They run pell-mell through the deep gray atmosphere trying to maintain their balance in the fun house setting. Something large is grunting and snarling on their heels. Gramps feels spittle on the back of his neck when the thing chasing them snorts and snarls behind them. Gramps dodges and darts, never letting go of the boys’ hands. Henry yelps as a claw snags his belt.
“Gramps!”
Barely slowing down, Gramps and George pull Henry loose and they continue running. A sliver of light appears in the wall of the tent ahead of them. The whirring gears of the projector grind to a stop and the projection of the cartoon landscape blinks out; complete darkness descends on them.
“The opening - there!” George yells. There is a slender splinter of light ahead. They stumble forward falling through the tent flap onto the runway. They spin around to see if the creature follows them out of the tent and spin back around when the Tilt-A-Wheel next to the tent starts up.
The decrepit ride picks up speed until it’s a manic blur. The entrance gate creaks open and gently swings back and forth like a seductively wagging finger summoning them.
They stand mesmerized. The madly twirling ride and the frantic music reels them in like fish impaled on the hook of a grotesque fisherman. Gramps, Henry, and George feel like they are in a surreal dream as they glide toward the whirlwind. Their feet skim the ground, their toes making ruts in the ground as they are pulled along. The ride grinds to a stop as a car pulls to the platform ready to load happy fair goers. The door swings open inviting them to board. They are inches away from the metal stairs leading up to the loading platform when something darts behind George knocking him off of his feet.
“Geez,” George wheezes and blinks. He pulls himself to his knees. He shakes his head to get out of the nightmare. He looks up to see grotesque, grinning grey children filling the cars of the ride. They watch ravenously as Henry and Gramps start up the stairs to the ride.
Henry has one foot on the first step and Gramps is raising his foot to step up. George lunges forward and grabs them by their belts. He can barely hang on to them as he fights the suction that is forcing them forward. He leans back and braces against the force pulling them. With one last mighty effort, George yanks them free.
The Tilt-A-Wheel lights flash angrily and the gray children scream and stretch grotesquely long arms to pull them back. Henry and Gramps scramble away from the stairs.
Gramps, Henry, and George stand stunned as the maniacal laughter of the children recedes and the Tilt-A-Wheel shimmers back into a decrepit ride creaking and groaning in a slow gyration. The lights flicker weakly.
“What happened?” Henry asks.
“Thanks, George,” Gramps gasps.
George looks for whatever it was that snapped him out of his trance.
The figure, or thing, disappeared into the dark lane between the attractions.
“Something ran by me,” George says.
They all look around anxiously.
“Whatever it was is gone. Come on.” Gramps leads them away from the ride.
They continue down the fairway.
“Here! This proof.” George picks up a flyer which promptly crumbles like a dead leaf.
“Never mind. We’ll find something,” Gramps tells him. They turn onto a lane with various attractions. They pass a tent advertising exhibits of astonishing sights; a three-headed goat, the strongman, and a sword swallower. One attraction promises thrills, chills, and spills to die for.
They pass one tent on a raised platform. A barker appears out of nowhere in the middle of the stage. The startled trio steps back.
“Maxie, my boy! Welcome back, we’ve been waiting for you. Come on over, you’re missing all the fun.” The tall skinny barker is dressed like the ring master of a seedy circus. He has a cartoon villain’s moustache.
George and Henry look at Gramps. His face drains of color.
“Gramps? How…how does he know you?” George whispers.
Gramps stares at the barker. He puts his arms out in front of the boys and presses them back. Gramps turns around and looks at five lanes that intersect in front of the stage like the spokes of a wheel.
“It’s like a labyrinth,” Gramps says under his breath.
“Shouldn’t have said that, Maxie,” the barker shouts gleefully.
From the depths of one of lanes comes snorting from what sounds like a large…a very large…animal grunting and pawing the earth.
“Which way, Gramps?” George shouts.
“Come on,” Gramps says running down the closest lane.
George squints his eyes trying to see into the darkness at the end of the lane.
“Go back, go back!” Henry squeals and they turn around and run back the way they came. The barker grins as they race past him.
“Wooo hooo!” he yells, “run, Maxie, run!”
They skid around the corner as thundering hooves shake the ground. Another turn and they find themselves in front of the stage with the barker. He bows and gestures for them to hop up on the stage.
They jump up just as something huge, enveloped in a cloud of dust, races past the stage. A mephitic waft of air gags them. The hoof beats fade into the distance.
“I think I’ve had just about all the fun I can stand. Let’s get out of here,” Henry pants.
“Not so fast, buddy boys!” the barker snarls and reaches for them. He just misses as they jump off the stage. His enraged face wavers and flashes from the barker’s face to a that of a grotesque creature straight from their nightmares.
They back away from the stage and walk down the middle lane, hoping it will lead them to the front gate. They walk quickly in dead silence. The eerie carnival music goes silent.
Henry stops short. “Wait…Gramps, what about our proof?”
Gramps looks around. “How about a picture?” Gramps pulls out his cell phone. “Stand over there in front of that platform.” The boys take bravado stances and look defiantly into the camera. Gramps makes sure the name on the tent can be seen and some of the background of the fairway. Just as he snaps the picture the leering face of the barker pops up behind the boys. The barker clamps his hands on their shoulders and leers at the camera. Henry’s shirt rips as they jerk away from the clawing hands.
“Aw…come on, kiddos…got a fun surprise for ya!”
The trio turns back to watch the barker bow and pull open the tent flap. A clown leaps out of the darkness. He jumps and clicks his heels together. He feigns surprise when he spots Gramps and the boys.
“Howdy ho! Howdy Hi! Well, would you look at who’s back! If it’s not our Little Max-a-million. Whoa…look a little light on top there my boy. Should have stayed with us. Don’t you want to be with your friends, sonny boy? Be a kid again? Get some of that hair back?”
The clown squats with one arm resting on his knee and winks at the boys. He flashes a sharp toothed grin. “Nyuk nyuk nyuk.”
“Pierpont,” Gramps whispers.
“Carnivorous...” George whispers.
“Clown…” Henry whispers.
The clown leaps up and cavorts around the stage. The tails of his tuxedo jacket flap as he leaps. His puffy pants are white with multi-colored polka dots. Dazzling orange hair juts out from under his top hat. He brandishes a shiny black cane. The handle is an ornate and garish clown’s head. With a flourish, he tips his hat.
“Watch me, fellas! It’s Fred A-Scare!” Pierpont does a garish tap dance in his huge clown shoes.
“Run!” Raucous laughter follows them down the fairway. Gramps pushes the boys ahead of him. He trips and slows down. He bends over with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. George and Henry run back and take his arms to help him.
“Okay…I’m okay, boys. Just need to catch my breath. Come on.”
They hear something clomping along behind them. Henry looks back to see the clown loping along.
“Hey…I just want to play.” Pierpont jumps, capers and tap dances grotesquely down the lane on the heels of Gramps and the boys. He backflips and lands running next to them.
“Come on, Maxie. We’ve been waiting a long time for you.” The clown swings his arms and pumps his legs keeping pace with them. “Wooo hooo!”
Gramps and the boys duck down narrow alleys between tents trying to out-maneuver the clown. They come out back onto the main fairway. Gramps is gasping and wheezing. He stops again and leans his arm against the counter of the Ring-The-Minotaur booth. George notices the picture of the Minotaur is gone…only a white space shaped like a misshapen bull is on the backboard.
“Gramps?” Henry’s voice breaks.
George looks around to see If they eluded the clown. The fairway is empty.
“I’m okay. Let’s keep going.” Gramps sucks in a deep breath.
“The coast is clear,” George says. They step back out on the fairway keeping a look-out for the clown and the minotaur.
They round a bend and find themselves back in front of the barker’s tent.
The clown runs up behind them, scoops George up and tosses him up on the stage. The barker clutches George’s arm in a steely grip.
“Ha! Gotcha!”
“Ooops! My bad,” the clown giggles coquettishly.
Gramps and Henry grab George’s arm. There is a tug of war with George in the middle.
“Oh! I wanna play.” The clown grabs George by the leg and yanks. The barker loses his grip on the struggling boy. Gramps, Henry, and the clown land flat on their backs. George lands on top of them.
Gramps looks at Pierpont.
“Um, thanks…I think.”
Pierpont jabs Gramps with his elbow. “Isn’t this fun? We haven’t had this much fun since…since…the last time we played! Nyuk nyuk!”
The barker shrieks and shakes his fist at them.
Henry and George pull Gramps to his feet. “Come on, Gramps!”
“Yeah, Gramps…let’s go. I want out of this place,” Pierpont chortles and dances around the trio.
Gramps looks at the boys and very slightly shakes his head. They inch back slowly, turn in unison, and run.
“Aw…come on. Sheesh,” the clown calls after them.
“Ooookay. If that’s the way you want to play,” he chuckles and spins like a dervish down the fairway after them.
“You stole my clown! Pierpont! You come back here,” the barker bellows after them.
Pierpont skids to a dead stop, turns around, puts his hands on his hips, and puffs out his chest. “That’s Sir - Sir Pierpont, to you.” He takes off after the trio.
“Don’t…stop,” Gramps huffs. They run down the fairway in what they hope is the right direction. The lights blink out in the attractions as they run past. They slide to a stop and look around for a way out. The darkness is on their heels as it slithers and oozes after them.
“There it is!” Henry yells.
They race to the bike rack, pull their bikes free, and hurry to the gate. Just when they think they’re home free the clown steps out of the bushes and stands in front of the gate. He grins and uses one finger to give a slight push to the gate which swings open. He stands to the side and bows with a flourish of his cane.
The carousel music grinds slowly down to deathly silence. The darkness undulates forward sending inky tendrils reaching out for them.
“Go!” They jump on their bikes, and, swerving to avoid the clown, race out of the park.
Pierpont jumps on the back of George’s bike as he rides through the gate. The bike wobbles dangerously. When the bike is fully out of the park, Pierpont jumps off. His clown topped cane goes flying.
“Free at last! Free at last!” He whoops and jumps on the gate. He swings on it in celebration.
George slews his bike around, grabs the cane and races after Henry and Gramps.
The clown stands quietly staring intently after them.
“See ya’ later. Boys,” he growls softly. A malevolent grin spreads slowly across his grotesque face.
As they ride home the boys can hear Gramps moan under his breath: “Oh, no…oh, no…”
George is spending the weekend with Henry. They park their bikes in the garage, close the garage door, and go into the kitchen. Gramps hurries through the house making sure the windows and doors are secure.
George puts the cane on the coffee table. “What should we do with this?” he asks.
“I suspect that cane holds some of Pierpont’s power. He’ll want it back.”
“Gramps, how does that clown know you?” Henry asks.
Gramps paces back and forth. Finally, he stops and faces the boys. The story spills out in a flood.
“It was a long time ago. I was about the age you boys are now. A couple of school mates and I went to the park. Even then it was seedy. I think that only made it more attractive to us. We snuck in under the fence. We - we went into the haunted house.”
Gramps shivered and is quiet for a minute.
“I was only one who came out. The clown, Pierpont, was in there and he chased us. We got separated. Pierpont went after my two friends. I…I…I raced from room to room trying to find them. I heard screams.”
Gramps’ voice catches. He takes a breath and continues.
“I couldn’t find my friends. Blood. Only a trail of blood. I don’t know how, but I was able to force my way out of a window. Pierpont chased me for I don’t know how long. It felt like forever. Somehow, I managed to get out of the park. The police didn’t believe me. They searched the haunted house. They couldn’t find a clown named Pierpont or my friends. The case was never solved and the park was shut down the next year after two more boys disappeared. People never looked at me the same again. Even I began to wonder- guess I forgot it. The whole thing just faded - until I overheard you two talking about going there. The memories slammed back.”
“I’m sorry I listened in on your conversation, but I’m glad I heard you. I couldn’t let you go there alone.”
“We’re glad you did, Gramps. This Pierpont - what does he want?” Henry asks.
“Nothing good.”
They sit quietly for a moment. Gramps slaps his thighs and stands.
“Well. We better eat.”
They go to the kitchen to fix supper. They make sandwiches, grab handfuls of chips and go back to the living room. They watch television as they eat. They stare at the screen not knowing what they are watching.
After a while, Gramps turns off the television. “Let’s get some sleep, boys.
As they head off to bed George says, “I can’t wait to see the look on their faces when Eugene and Hawkins see this photo. That will show them.”
“Yeah.” Henry says.
“What? Who? Who did you say?” Gramps asks.
“Eugene and Hawkins,” George says looking at Gramps. “Do you know them?”
“Uh…no. No. Just a coincidence. It’s nothing. Go to bed now.” Gramps leaves the room. He goes back to the living room and gets the cane. After a moment of hesitation, he takes it with him to his bedroom. He gets a chair and goes to his closet. He stands on the chair to reach the trap door to the attic crawl space. He pushes the cover up and slips the cane into the crawl space. He sits on the edge of his bed and puts his head in his hands.
Monday morning arrives overcast and wet. Gramps drops the boys off at school on his way to work.
“Henry…George. Stay away from those boys. Give them the photo if they confront you but, then stay away from them. Don’t get off by yourselves. I’ll pick you up this afternoon.”
“Okay, Gramps.” They wave, sling their backpacks over their shoulders and start up the path to the main building.
Henry goes cold when the bushes rustle and Eugene steps onto the path.
“Well, look who showed up!”
“Where you going, ladies? We got business.” Hawkins comes up behind them.
Eugene scowls. Hawkins coos sweetly, putting out his hand and wagging his fingers. “Got something for us?”
Henry digs into his pocket for the picture. He pulls it out and hands it to Hawkins.
The toughs look at the picture. They scowl and look at one another. Then Hawkins scoffs and rips it up. “Ain’t real. What? You think we’re stupid?
“Well…uh…ye…” Henry elbows George.
“No! No - we would never say that,” Henry says quickly.
Eugene and Hawkins glare at them. Hawkins swaggers up to the boys and jabs Henry in the chest.
“You didn’t go into the park. Looks like we need to teach you girls a little lesson. Tonight. 9:00. Oh, and be sure to invite the old coot.”
“Gramps isn’t an old coot!” Henry says angrily.
Hawkins and Eugene are suddenly right in his face. George has a flash of Eugene looking bloody and terrified. He grabs Henry’s arm and squeezes his eyes shut. When he opens them, Eugene looks like his usual self. Cadaver smelly and filthy.
Hawkins snickers and puts his hand out and waggles his fingers. “By the way, don’t forget the money you owe us. Give it up, girls.”
Henry and George dig into their pockets for their lunch money.
“Hey, fellas,” a friendly voice calls out.
A teacher appears out of nowhere. He’s wearing a ‘Guest Teacher’ badge. Henry and George step back and look at one another in relief.
“What have we here?” the guest teacher says cheerfully. He picks the two bullies up by the scruff of their shirts.
“Hey…we got them there…. we got them th…” complains Eugene. The teacher shakes him.
“It’s not our fault that you blew…” The teacher shakes Hawkins.
“You were saying?” The teacher shakes both boys.
“We were borrowing lunch money from our friends.”
“Ah. Hungry are you? Why don’t you join me for lunch? I’m really hungry.” The teacher twirls them around and they are forced to skip on tip-toe down the walk. Henry and George can hear the boys whining about a second chance.
The unknown teacher looks back over his shoulder at Henry and George.
“Catch ya later, fellas. Give my regards to Max-a-million!” Nyuk nyuk nyuk!”
Henry and George look at one another. When they look back, the teacher, Hawkins, and Eugene are gone.
“Did you smell cotton candy?” Henry whispers.
“Popcorn,” George whispers back.