"This promises to be fun," I said.
The sign read 'Fun Carnival', pretty generic name. Jo and Quentin had suggested this as something to do to blow off stress during the weekend, as we probably wouldn't find out if the ritual had succeeded until Monday. I guess they thought it had been very tense for me, but a carnival didn't exactly seem like my style.
"Remind me why we're here again," I said.
"Generally, to make fun of everybody and be undisciplined teenagers. Sound good?" Jo answered.
"I can work with that."
We went under the sign arch and Quentin bought us our tickets. He was wearing a backpack, presumably for taking home our winnings.
"So what do you guys want to vandalize first?" Jo laughed.
The first thing we saw when we entered was a water roller coaster, shaped to resemble a log coming out of a lumberjack cabin. Its title was 'The Log Flume' and it had a rather long line. Observers and parents stood a safe distance away from the splash zone. The ride operator was watching the log come down the shaft and soak the ride-goers with the murky gray water. I saw Jo's face light up with an idea.
"All right, Sophia, walk past that ride operator."
"What? Why?" she said.
"I've got a great idea, just go."
Sophia sighed, resigned to Jo's obscurity, and walked in front of the ride operator's booth. The teenage employee became distracted by her unconventional dark look in the lively, cheerful setting, giving Jo the opportunity to sneak up behind him and pull back a lever on the operating panel.
He came back and Sophia asked "OK, Jo, now what the hell did that do?"
"How should I know?"
"So you just went up there and pressed some random button. Great trick, Jo."
"It must do something good."
"Well, what if that was the self-destruct button and all those people just blew up?" Quentin said.
"Ooh, even better."
"Jo-"
"Look," I remarked. A surge of water gushed out of the ramp at a rapid speed. The log coaster began to emerge from the fake wooden shack and shot down the track. It impacted with the wave and water exploded outward beyond the splash zone, soaking all the people who thought they were safe at its edge.
Jo exploded with laughter, Quentin followed and Sophia giggled a little. The sight of all the startled, dripping people couldn't help but grow a smile out of me.
"Oh, yes, that was sweet," Jo exclaimed. "The fun's only begun." Jo walked off into the carnival, leaving the soaked bystanders and confused ride operator behind.
We walked awhile into the heart of the park and entered the games area. Toss-a-dime, knock down the bottles, guess-your-weight, that sort of thing.
"Damn, look over there." Jo pointed to a shooting game. One of the prizes resting in the booth was a boom box. "That'd be sweet, get a free boom box. Then we could have some quality sound during the ritual."
"Jo," Quentin said, "You have to get a perfect score to get that thing."
"I can do it," I said.
"What?"
"I could do it."
The others kept disbelieving in silence as I led them over. "Step right up. Step riiiight up. Try your luck. Loser pays, winner stays. You there," he said, pointing at me, "I'd bet you'd like one of these fine prizes here."
I hate carnival vendors. They're way too aggressive. Nevertheless, I plunked down my money and he handed me the gun. It was a target shooting game with different objects shifting back and forth on platforms.
"Here's a winner here, my good man. Ducks worth 20 points, bottles 30, and targets 50." He handed me my gun, attached to a rope in case I ran off with it, I guess. I pulled it out to give it some slack and held it outward, ready to shoot. And I waited...
Waited...
"You can shoot anytime now, son."
I'll shoot whenever I damn well please. And don't call me son.
BLAM. One target. BLAM. Two targets. BLAM. Three. BLAM. Four. BLAM. Five. BLAM. Six targets. 300 points - flawless victory.
"Holy balls!" the vendor said. "I've never seen that happen before in my life."
I turned to my friends, their mouths were wide open.
"Damn, Caleb. How'd you do that?!" Quentin exclaimed.
"I'll take that boom box now," I said to the carnival vendor.
"Tell you what son. Double or nothing if you can do that again. How 'bout it?"
"What would I need two-"
"Do it! Do it, Caleb!" Jo implored.
I shrugged and gave him back the gun to reload as he replaced the targets. As soon as I got it back I held it along my eyeline and waited.
BLAM. Oh, jeez, I almost missed that one. The targets were darting and jerking back and forth at random and much faster. BLAM. This asshole's screwing me up, must've fooled around with the targets' movement. BLAM. Got to concentrate. BLAM. BLAM. BLAM.
Yes, got them all.
"My god, I don't believe it. Tell you what-"
"No, I'll tell you what. I will take my two boom boxes now."
"I'm offering you-"
"Now," I stated. Damn pushy vendors. He sighed and pulled out two heavy cardboard boxes. Quentin and I each took one and put them in his backpack, they weren't really that big.
"Caleb, domination!" Jo exclaimed and slapped me high five.
"Where to now?"
"There's got to be some other game with a TV or something," Jo said.
"There's nothing here that has any good prizes. They're all crappy huge teddy bears." I'd rather people not see me carrying a huge pink teddy bear.
We started to wander out of the games area. Out from behind a wall popped a mime: pasty white face, black and white horizontal striped sweater, topped off with a beret. He began doing the invisible wall routine right in front of Jo's path.
"Dude, get the fuck out of my way." Jo tried to sidestep him, but the mime matched his movements. Jo looked up in exasperation and belted him in the stomach. The wind rushed out of the mime's puckered up mouth like air out of a balloon. He doubled over in pain and collapsed to his knees.
"A mime is a wonderful thing to waste," Jo said, still looking down at his asphyxiated victim.
"Jeez, Jo, would you calm down," Sophia said.
"C'mon, let's go," he said, leaving him behind.
"Jo's really going ballistic today." Quentin muttered to me.
"No kidding. What's with him? He just wants to beat everything in sight."
"Hey," Jo called out, "Check this out." He pointed to a sign on the side of the building. I walked over to see what it was. The sign said 'Freaks' and underneath 'Featuring: Jo-Jo, the idiot circus boy'.
"We've got to see this." Jo approached the doors and tugged at the handle. It didn't budge. "Thing's closed or something," he said.
"Think that's a hint?" I said.
"Don't worry," Quentin turned around and Jo delved into his backpack, pulling out a chisel. "I come prepared for everything." Jo inserted the chisel between the two doors and slammed it in with his fist. The sound of the lock breaking apart followed.
"Easy as pie." Jo cracked the door open and slipped in, each of us followed. It was pitch black except for the daylight coming in from the opened door. Quentin started feeling the walls for a light switch.
"Caleb, got your lighter?"
Oh, I forgot. I reached in my pocket and pulled out my lighter. Upon igniting it, the room became a little easier to see. We were in the opening hallway, on the right wall was the ticket window.
"Anybody home?" I said.
"Here." Sophia found the light switch and we were welcomed by the dim glow of the ceiling gas lights. I repocketed my lighter.
"Come on," Jo grabbed me and we took the lead. Around the corner we could see the main hall with curtains on either side, closing off each of the displays. There were posters put up next to their entrances, one said 'Sheila, the headless woman', another said 'Trina & Tasha, the tiny twins'. I peeked behind one of the drapes, but there was only darkness.
"They're empty."
"They haven't moved them in yet. That's why it's closed," Quentin answered.
"Quentin, spray can," Jo commented. He complied, pulling off his pack and producing a can of spray paint for Jo, which he promptly took. "This place is too plain, needs some color." He rattled up the can and sprayed a series of words across the wall. "I think I'll start off with a simple 'Jo was here'," he laughed as he wrote. He stepped back to admire his work. "Oooh, I know...." He ran back to the ticket booth and sprayed 'monkey fucker' on the side of the window.
"That's a good one," he complimented himself. "All right, what's next?" he asked rhetorically. He walked back down the corridor looking between walls and thinking of what other damage he could do.
"You could pull down the curtains," Sophia suggested.
Trying out the suggestion, Jo ripped down a curtain from its rings. He looked at it for a moment.
"Nah, too easy," he discarded the curtain on the floor. "It needs to be seen, it needs to say 'total vandalism'."
On the way down the corridor, Jo trailed his graffiti across the wall. "Feel free to join in guys."
"Sorry, I left my sledgehammer at home," I muttered. I didn't exactly feel like committing wanton violence today.
"Quentin, come on," he tossed him his spray can. "Go wild, make your mark."
Quentin popped the top off the canister and made a little squiggle on the wall near him.
"No, no, no. Think big."
Quentin thought for a second and then sprayed out a big 'QT'.
"That's the spirit. Come on, you gotta spread it over a wide area to get the most effect. That way, it takes them longer to clean up." Jo reached the end of the hall and saw the door for the main attraction.
"Check it, it's the main feature room." Jo grabbed back Quentin's can and grafittied the sign out of readability. He holstered his 'weapon' and opened the door. We followed him in and found ourselves in a small theater - a scant area with folding chairs opposite a stage with the curtain closed.
"Now we got something," Jo quickly took the opportunity and threw one of the chairs into the others, creating a domino effect and knocking most of them down. He picked up another and threw it onto the stage. He took back out his spray can and wrote a big 'fuck you' on the curtains and again on the stage.
"Jo-Jo's going to have a little surprise waiting for him," he snickered.
"Jo, I think we should get out of here now," Sophia said.
Jo sighed. "You guys are no fun." He put back his spray can. "All right, I want to get an orange slushie and then we'll leave." On the way out, Jo took his chisel and dragged it across the wall, marring the wallpaper. Jo waited for us to catch up with him before he opened the door.
The mime and a security guard were standing there.
"Hold it right there, son," he said as he put a hand on our friend's shoulder. Jo flinched as if he was going to run, but realized he wouldn't get far.
"Is this the one?" he asked the mime. The pale-faced clown simply nodded. "Son, did you assault this mime here?"
"No."
The mime shook his head vigorously and pantomimed delivering a hard blow to his own stomach and doubling over in pain.
"All right son, let's go." The cop took Jo's arm and started to lead him out. We begrudgingly followed him.
"That wasn't me, that was another kid."
"Uh-huh, I'm going to have to ask you and your friends to leave the park."
"No, wait, I didn't do it."
The mime stepped in front of them and made a motion of his nose growing like Pinocchio.
"You know, us normal people talk once in a while, you faggot."
"All right, come on." The guard took Jo and pushed him out of the fair entrance. "Next time, be a little more courteous to the fair employees."
"Yeah, well, your employees can kiss my ass."
"Move along, son," he stood in front of the entrance and crossed his arms.
Jo started walking back to the parking lot. We moved around the cop to join up with Jo, silently accepting our fate, unlike him.
"You fuckin' bastards, I'll burn this place to the ground. I'll see you all burn in hell, you pin-headed pricks."
"C'mon, Jo," I said, walking towards the parking lot.
"I'll sue!"
"C'mon."
Jo gave one last exhibition of his hatred (the finger) and we started to walk back to our cars. "Damn, I really wish I'd gotten that orange slushie."