Carnival
A.N. - Last autumn I wrote a short story from Ian's POV. I've never posted it, but in it he mentions two instances from his past that he barely remembers, but realizes that they probably meant more than he realized. This is one of them. I only mention this in case I ever do end up posting it, so you'll know which came first. This story was my entry to the Murking Fantasy spring break challenge. Last year, if you remember, I wrote smut (and it can be found through links in my profile) but unfortunately, this barely rates a T. Sorry if that disappoints anyone, but at least it lets me post it on here.
Just the stench of boiling grease, buttered popcorn, and stale sweat made Kerry's stomach churn in disgust. The crush of people made her tighten her grasp on Ian's hand, his chubby little fingers covered in sweat and liquid butter. His hand kept slipping from hers and for a moment they would lose the tenuous connection of skin between them. Her stomach would invariably clench in a moment of fear and she would stop dead, her eyes not dropping from the top of his head until his hand was in hers again. She hated this, but there was no way she could explain to her father the level of paranoia she felt while in a crowd. She had a feeling he knew. All of them, including Ian, were wary of strangers these days. In Kerry's opinion, she had less reason to be scared of kidnappings, as it had never really happened to her, but at the same time, she knew that she didn't just have humans to worry about on a chilly March evening.
She wondered if there were any vampires at the carnival, blending in with the humans, and decided that the Goths hovering around the Hall of Mirrors were too obvious.
"Do you want some cotton candy?" Kerry offered, thinking that if she could get Ian's fingers sticky it might be easier to hold on to them.
"I don't feel good," Ian pouted. "I want to go home."
Kerry seconded that motion. Unfortunately, they were both at the mercy of their cousin Bobby, who drove them into town and promised to give them a call when he was done with whatever business he had. Kerry was sure that it was in some kind of brothel from the way he hedged about where she could contact him, but if she was feeling charitable she'd give him the benefit of the doubt and say that maybe he wasn't paying to cheat on his wife. Kerry had stopped feeling charitable once the afternoon turned into night and the sun had set over the carnival. She had promised Ian they would visit for the afternoon and at five he thought he was old enough to handle it. They had spent an hour on the rides before Ian's feet had gotten tired, so she had taken him to the local mall for a movie, and then to the food court for supper, and finally when the mall closed at seven she was forced to take him back outside.
Kerry resisted the urge to check her phone for missed calls, knowing that there was no possible way for her to miss her ringtone, especially at the volume she set it at along with the vibrating option. The night was cold and she could see her breath on the air, proving that although the March day had been temperate, the evenings were still enough to keep frost on the ground. It surprised her how crowded the carnival was, but she could see how an early Opening for tourist season might draw people, especially those with children who had the week off for March Break. Shivering in her thin spring jacket, she glanced at Ian out of the corner of her eye to make sure that he wasn't cold. Thirty dollars spent on a cheap sweater she could have picked up at Walmart for ten ensured he had an extra layer over his jacket.
"Here," Kerry offered, "why don't you have another ride down the big slide?"
"I don' like all the stairs," Ian whined. "I want to go back home."
Kerry sighed, deciding she was going to strangle Bobby with one of those disgusting wifebeaters he habitually wore around the house. "You can ride the giant koala on the merry-go-round," Kerry bargained, "and then I'll see if I can win that purple hippo you liked."
Ian's eyes finally lit up with excitement. "The big one?" he asked.
"Maybe," Kerry hedged, pushing him through the gates to the ride. The crowds around the children's rides had dwindled to the point that none were operating at maximum capacity and the park had become filled with sketchy looking adults wearing leather, teenagers with bored expressions, and even some teenagers in leather. Looking at all the beer guts and cheap imitation pleather, Kerry was becoming more and more sure that nine tenths of the population could not pull off the biker rocker look.
Ian looked back at her uncertainly and Kerry gave him a wave. One of the ride attendants helped him onto the koala, and though Kerry knew the man was just doing his job, her chest still tightened with irrational fear.
"Frig you, dad," she muttered beneath her breath. "We didn't need a break from Brockport badly enough to put up with staying with gran for a week. She's crazy, and Ian's starting to wonder why she keeps asking him what his name is. I can only say it's a game so many times." Anything would be better than visiting the state of Arkansas, home of the tomato, and while she was perhaps even fonder of ketchup than the next girl, Kerry would have rather stayed home. In Brockport she wouldn't have to deal with hiding her grandmother's dementia from Ian, nor rely on her lazy, irresponsible cousin for transportation. In Brockport she could be studying for finals and waiting by the mailbox with bated breath for acceptance letters from her colleges of choice. In Brockport, Ian practically jumped at his own shadow, and Kerry knew her father was trying to relocate to the Penfield branch of his company and needed this week to check out the local real estate situation.
That didn't mean she had to like it. Ethan Bryne had, beyond a shadow of a doubt, irrevocably screwed up their lives. If she ever saw him again, she'd let him know exactly what she thought of him.
She wove to Ian as he rounded back into her view, letting him know that she was watching him. Every time he disappeared to the opposite side of the ride, she became nervous and just on the verge of heart-racing, palm sweating panic, but she knew that if she didn't let him out on his own in little steps, that neither of them would become very well adjusted adults.
"Hey baby," she said as he ran up to her after the ride. "Hippo time?"
"Definely," Ian grinned, reaching for her hand.
"Great," Kerry chatted, "wait'll you see my throwing arm. I'll knock those milk bottles down, no problem." Even as the lies emerged from her mouth, Kerry winced at the bravado. She knew she wasn't going to be able to even move the bottles if she somehow managed to hit them. These games were all rigged. Now she was going to let Ian down when all she was trying to do was keep his spirits up. "Hold on a sec," she said to Ian, dropping his hand. "I have to tie my shoelace."
It took her about ten seconds to tie the laces, and when she looked back up Ian was gone. "Ian! Ian?" Kerry called out. "Fuck!" She looked frantically back and forth, searching for the baby powder blue sweater she had pulled over his jacket, but couldn't spot it. The park was now full of adults, and Ian barely reached their knees. Three steps into the crowd and he could easily be within earshot but virtually unnoticeable. Kerry moved forward, intent on finding him and then hesitated. If she went the wrong way, she could lose him altogether, but if she didn't actively search for him, it could be a lot worse. "IAN!"
Fifty seconds, she thought, a minute. How long did it take for someone to kidnap a child?
Kerry circled the area she was standing in for any sign of him, intently widening her search area and rudely pushing through groups of people. Her heart was racing in her chest, and she was on the verge of a panic attack. "Ian?" Some people shot her pitying looks, probably assuming that she was searching for a lost boyfriend due to the time of night. "Has anyone seen a little boy in a blue sweater?" she finally yelled. None of the crowd met her eyes as they continued on their way.
Three, four minutes. Kerry didn't want to think of what could be done to her brother in that amount of time. Hopefully, she prayed, it was just enough to scare him and she would find him at any moment.
The man approaching her wasn't the first thing she noticed. What she saw was the child he whose hand he was holding, the one with the light blue sweater and a spindle of cotton candy grasped in one hand. She didn't bother calling out Ian's name, bodily inserting herself in front of the person carrying him through the throng of people. "There now," the man said, "is this your pretty sister with the brown hair and pink jacket?"
"Ian," Kerry said with relief as she Ian ran towards her. She looked up to thank the person who brought him back, but the good Samaritan was gone.
"Can we get the hippo now?" Ian asked, taking a bite of his cotton candy and ended up with more of the sticky liquid around his mouth than in it.
"Did someone buy that for you?" she questioned sharply, concerned all over again.
"It's ok, Kerry," Ian said gravely, "I saw the guy in the food place make it. He stirred the stick around and the candy just stuck to it. Cool huh?"
"Yeah, cool." It sometimes surprised Kerry when Ian understood her concerns before she voiced them. She couldn't help but wonder if she had been this perceptive with their mother when she was Ian's age, and if it freaked mom out sometimes too. She bit her lip for a moment, warring with the need to berate him. Instead, she put on her happy face. "Ok, it's hippo time."
It was remarkably easy for Kerry to win Ian the prize he wanted. Ian pointed it out to the vendor, she slipped him a twenty and threw the ball at the bottles a few times. Her aim was surprisingly accurate, but as she had assumed, the bottles didn't really topple with any ease.
"Here," she handed Ian the ball, picking him up and placing him on the counter. "See how you do."
Ian scrunched up his face in concentration and then threw the ball with all his might, making it bounce off the ceiling and hitting the vendor on the shoulder. Kerry pursed her lips to keep from laughing.
"You'll probably be a dodge ball champion, kid," the vendor commented, making Ian grin with pride. "Here's your prize."
Kerry thanked him, though in truth he still owed her around fifteen in change, and put Ian back on the ground. That's when the trouble started. Ian wanted to hold the hippo, but he needed two hands to do so and there was no way Kerry was going through the panic of losing him again. There was also no way Ian was letting go of that toy. She spent a minute trying to lift both of them, but Ian was too heavy and the toy in his arms too cumbersome. "Ok," Kerry conceded. "You win. Walk in front of me and if I tell you to stop you listen, ok?"
It worked for a while, but it was obvious that Ian was exhausted and practically falling asleep at her feet. Finally she picked him up, stupid, awkward stuffed hippo and all, and carried him to the large rock at the front of the carnival entrance. She stood him on it, holding him with one hand as he swayed sleepily and then righted himself. Kerry could feel the cold seeping through the rock at her knee and inwardly cursed as she shrugged off her jacket and folded it before placing it on the rock for Ian to sit on. "There ya go," she said with a grin.
"Thanks Ker," Ian said, sitting down. "I want to go home."
"Me too." Kerry sighed and checked her phone. No new calls. Ian didn't have to know how worried she was that they didn't actually have a way back. "You know, this hippo reminds me of old Mrs. Lydecker." Kerry picked up the stuffed animal. "Hurumph. My lawn is not a playground, children."
Ian giggled.
"Does this purple jacket make me look fat?" Kerry asked, walking the hippo on its hind legs.
"No Mrs. Lydecker," Ian said solemnly. "You look really thin. For a hippopotamus."
Kerry laughed, and then stopped short as her eyes scanned the park. Her eyes widened and she looked startled as she noticed the person watching her, approaching. Her first thought was that he was one of the ten percent of the population who could actually pull off leather. The second thing she noticed was the emo bang hiding half his face from her view and the thick black liner surrounding the exposed blue eye. "You look like an idiot," she blurted out, though any teenage girl in a mile radius was probably humming with hormones at the sight of him. His face was still one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen.
He smiled.
"Hey Trick," Ian grinned. "Thanks for the cotton candy." Ian looked around, finally noticing it was gone. Kerry had taken it from him earlier and wiped his hands and mouth with one of the wet napkin wipes she had grabbed at supper, distracting him with the hippo as she tossed the candy in the trash. He had allowed her to clean him up with the threat that if he was sticky, he'd ruin his new toy. It worked like a charm.
"No problem," Michel said. "Do you mind if I steal Kerry for a moment?"
Ian's eyes got wide. "No!" he exclaimed, grabbed Kerry's arm.
"It's ok, Ian," Kerry soothed, handing him the stuffed animal. "He doesn't mean that kind of steal. He just wants to talk to me for a minute."
Ian looked doubtful.
This time, Kerry wasn't as concerned for his feelings as she usually was. She grabbed the sleeve of Michel's jacket and pulled him a few feet away. "Are you stalking me?"
"Am I stalking you?" He asked in mock surprise. "Are you stalking me?"
"If you're not stalking me then what are you doing in Arkansas?" Kerry asked, not falling for his misdirection.
Michel shrugged, that infuriating grin hovering around his eyes. "I like tomatoes," he said, "and other red, juicy things."
Since it had practically been the same joke she made, Kerry rolled her eyes.
"Besides," he told her, leaning close. "Arkansas is about as likely as a place to find vampires as Brockport, New York."
"We're moving." Kerry blurted out, and then frowned at her complete inability to talk to him without turning into some suspicious, blustering fool who wanted attention.
"Oh?" He asked with barely veiled disinterest.
Kerry looked over at Ian who was happily sitting on his rock pretending to play with the hippo, but he had turned himself so he was facing their direction, and his eyes weren't quite focused on the toy. "He's still scared there."
"The threat has been neutralized. It's probably the safest place to be right now. Vampires are staying away from that corner of New York like teenage girls stay away from the pimply band geek freak."
"That's good to know," Kerry told him, observing him critically. Michel didn't offer information about these things unless it was completely harmless to him, so she could either divine that he was telling the truth and really was attempting to allay her fears, or he was lying, Brockport really was a vampire hotspot, and he was doing it for some purpose she couldn't quite think of. Probably because there wasn't one. "But his problem isn't with vampires – they've actually become his favourite night time story – Ian's terrified of the town. He's been much calmer since we got here."
"I've moved for less," Michel agreed.
"Kerry," Ian called, his tone impatient. They both turned to watch as he glowered and pouted.
"I'll be there in a minute, baby."
"I'm watching to make sure he doesn't steal you," Ian promised.
"He's adorable. I could just eat him up," Michel said inflectionless, watching her for a reaction.
Kerry frowned at him, but wasn't as upset by that comment as she could have been. A vampire is making jokes about eating her brother, the irrational side of her brain freaked. But it's Ethan Bryne, the logical part of her reasoned, the person who told her that not messing with children was a creed to live by in his line of living.
"Just like his older sister," Michel continued.
That got a reaction from her. Her stomach bottomed out and her heart rate picked up. She felt breathless, airless, mindless, and yet she was aware of her skin tingling with the need for him to touch her. Was he flirting with her? Her reaction certainly thought he was. She took a step closer to him, her hand brushing against the surprisingly rough material of his fishnet shirt. She was aware of how quickly he could change the conversation from confrontation to one where she was gravitating towards him, all at his own amusement.
"I did save your brother," he reminded her, his fingers brushing against the chilled, bare skin of her arms.
Kerry looked into his eyes. "Am I supposed to be grateful?" she breathed, lifting her mouth towards him.
"It wouldn't be unappreciated," he told her, teasing her by moving closer but not taking that final step towards her. "But it might be inappropriate."
"Kerry!" Ian called out, now off the rock and a few paces away from them. Kerry jumped, but Michel held her in place so she couldn't leap away from him. "Are you cold?" He held up her jacket with a sense of innocence bred in a family where parental affection – towards each other, that is – was as uncommon as actually seeing their mother was.
"Thanks, buddy," she said with a forced smile, removing herself from Michel's grasp. She hadn't been cold for the first time in hours, but she wasn't about to tell Ian that.
"I don't need it anymore," he said stoically, though Kerry could see he was shaking from a combination of exhaustion and chill. She felt a well-deserved flash of fury go through her, directed towards cousin Bobby. "Can we go home yet?"
"Not yet," Kerry said, getting on her knees and pulling the jacket around Ian, helping him place his arms through the sleeves. She rolled them up until finding his hands and zipped him in. The jacket was long enough to look like a dress on him. "I'm not that cold," she told him, lying through her chattering teeth.
Michel wordlessly stripped off his jacket and handed it to her. Kerry looked at him, unnerved to realize she wasn't all that surprised at his chivalric gesture. "I didn't do it to trick you into being a gentleman," she clarified, unsure whether she was saying so for her own benefit or for his. She took the jacket anyway.
"I know the lengths you go for him," he reminded her, scooping Ian into his arms as Kerry shrugged into the cool leather of the jacket. She was pretty sure she was in the ninety percent of the population who looked like an idiot poseur in the material, but she didn't really care. "Which is why I don't understand why you're still here. Come on, it'll be warmer in the crowd."
In theory he was right, it should have been warmer on the park grounds with the people and machinery generating heat, but unfortunately even the adults had begun to dwindle so that there was no longer a mad crush of people, though the carnival-goers were still plentiful. "We're supposed to wait for our cousin to drive us back," she told him. "He told me not to call him, that he would call us."
"Since when have you listened to reason?" Michel asked, shifting Ian's weight so her sleeping brother could lean his forehead against his shoulder. Kerry lost focus on her response, watching as his arm muscles flexed beneath his foolish sheer shirt. What hit her harder was the tender way he supported Ian, making sure he was not only comfortable but also still bundled up in the layers of clothing with that stupid hippo cradled next to him.
Kerry shrugged. "Since I saw his truck parked outside the local bar and motel a few hours ago and I figure there's a good chance he'll get drunk enough to let me drive."
"And how will you do that if he leaves without you? Or comes to pick you up reeking of alcohol but already behind the wheel?"
"Everyone in town will ultimately show up here tonight."
"That's not your plan, is it?" he asked with a frown.
"Dad," Kerry said in a clearly upset tone, "it was horrible. I was stranded in town with Ian for eight hours before we ended up taking a taxi home. I know that Bobby's family and all, but Ian was so cold I ended up buying him a ridiculously expensive sweater and wrapping him in my own jacket before the night was out. I'm not trusting him around my brother again and he's definitely not babysitting while I take gran to church tomorrow night."
"Ah. I thought manipulations and lies were beyond you, Kerry."
Kerry listened to his tone for criticism, but didn't hear any reproof. If anything, he seemed to approve. She shrugged it off. "Not with the right motivations."
"Which are? I'm curious."
"Something feels off about him."
"Your cousin?"
"Yeah."
"Something off like pedophile off?"
Kerry started, meeting Michel's eyes over Ian's head. "I don't know," she admitted. "Maybe, but I doubt it. More like something mean about him that wouldn't hesitate to hit a little boy or hole him up in a closet, or something that will equally damage his already cracked psyche."
Beside them, a drunk knocked over an empty stand, the plywood and contents crashing with a noise that made the surrounding carnival sound soft. Kerry jumped, putting a hand over her heart and Ian jerked awake. Michel barely moved, except to back away from a barrage of rolling pop and beer cans.
"Oh," Ian blinked in surprise, looking at Kerry beside him at eye-level and then turning his head to look at Michel. "Who're you?"
"I'm Patrick, remember?" Michel said gently. "I'm a friend of Kerry's."
"Oh yeah." Ian squinted. "Your eyes look funny. Kinda like how Kerry's do before she goes out with boys."
Michel grinned at Kerry. "Well I was out with a girl earlier, and then I decided to come hang out with you guys."
"Do you like my hippo? Kerry won it for me."
"It's a very cool hippo," Michel said gravely. "Everyone should have one."
"Even you?"
"I have one at home just like it," Michel deflected easily. "All the cool people do."
"Kerry doesn't," Ian pointed out. "Are you saying my sister isn't cool?"
Michel pursed his lips in an attempt not to laugh.
Kerry chuckled. "He got you there."
"Kerry can share yours," Michel suggested, clearly floundering.
"No way! Kerry can get her own."
"Ok. Let's go get me a hippo, Ian," Kerry said, more in an attempt to keep from laughing at the two of them than to keep the peace.
"Are you going to win it for her?" Michel asked.
"No. Kerry's better at this game than me. I bet she's even better than you."
"I doubt it," Kerry said dryly. "Mi – Patrick is really good with balls." She had to duck her head as Michel shot her a challenging look.
"With a little practice, your sister could probably handle them just as well as I can." Michel paused to consider the situation. "I'll tell you what. How about we have a little wager – a wager is when if you lose you have to do something for the other person, even if you don't want to. So we have to think of something Kerry won't want to do. How about if I'm better at this game, Kerry has to give us both a kiss?"
"Eww," Ian exclaimed, scrunching up his face.
"Yeah, it is disgusting." Michel winked at her.
Kerry didn't think all the ball jokes in the world could compete with Michel for using her brother as a medium for double entendres. She wanted to scowl at him, but instead ended up grinning like a fool and wondering if she should throw the game – no pun intended – and lose on purpose.
"I'll pay," Michel offered, sitting Ian on the counter and digging out his wallet. He handed the hawker a ten. "Kerry can go first." He gestured for her to go in front of him with a charming grin on his face as he took his place next to her brother.
She grabbed the first ball, hitting the tower of milk bottles with more or less accuracy. Still, they didn't move.
"Harder," Michel called out. "You have to be more forceful."
Kerry gritted her teeth against a blush and threw her second ball. It missed completely, bouncing off the wall behind the target and harmlessly fell to the floor.
"It's all in the wrist," Michel commented.
Kerry grabbed the final ball and drilled it at his stomach. Michel caught it, fumbling for show, and lifted both his hands in mock surrender.
"Hey!" the bored vendor yelled, jumping off his stool.
"Ok, ok," Michel laughed. "I won't tease you anymore. I swear."
Kerry eyed him suspiciously.
"It's my turn, anyway." Michel flicked his wrist quicker than Kerry could really follow, sending the blur of a ball hurling towards the milk bottles. They broke with a crash of heavy glass shards, revealing that three of them were really glued to the table.
"What the –" the guy behind the counter yelled. Kerry hastily put her hands over Ian's ears.
"Hippo, Kerry?" Michel asked nonchalantly. "Or would you rather the stuffed unicorn?"
"Kerry has a unicorn," Ian informed him solemnly.
"She does?" Michel sounded surprised, but Kerry wasn't fooled. He somehow knew.
"I'll take the blue hippo," Kerry told the vendor, turning towards Michel. "Getting a pink one just seems wrong somehow. I know hippos aren't really pink, but it just screams naked to me. How about you?"
"I think you owe me a kiss."
"Thanks," Kerry smiled as the large stuffed hippo was handed to her. She turned back to Michel, pleased to find he had already picked Ian up off the counter.
"Me too," Ian reminded with a face.
Kerry repeated the grimace. "You guys are really torturing me, here." She leaned forward to kiss Ian on the cheek. He still smelled vaguely of cotton candy and handiwipes, and for a moment she saw a happy little family where none could ever be. "Muah!" she said, smacking her lips on Ian's cheek.
"How about me?" Michel teased.
Standing on tiptoe, she leaned up to Michel's ear and whispered. "If throwing a ball is any indication of your wrist skills, then you must have waaaay more practice than I do." Then she quickly pecked him on the cheek and stood back, a satisfied grin on her face. Michel stared at her intently for a moment, grabbing her by the waist with his free arm and dragging her flush against his side. His eyes were a passionate blue edged in sin, drawing her in with their wicked glint. He barely made a move towards her, and yet her mouth tingled with the intensity of his fiery spectre of a kiss. "Michel," she breathed, drawing closer to him.
"Who?" Ian asked, breaking her trance. Michel shot her a disapproving look, removing his fingers from her waist.
"I'll drive the two of you home," he said instead of explaining, not only dissipating the mood, but also bringing the evening to a crashing halt. Still, she could taste his mouth on hers despite the fact there had been no physical kiss and she wondered if it was simply a memory from the year before or another vampire trick.
©RelenaFanel.March29.2008