"Time for another rickety trip on that noisy, dented, tin can." Russet groans atop Papa's head.
"I don't like it much eiser, but traffic is bad verever you go sese days."
"Yeah. That's right. You're a cabbie kind of guy." I recall.
Papa shrugs. "I have a couple of cars. Zey just aren't here."
Russet and I glance at each other, then at him oddly.
"Just how rich are you Verwildert?"
He scratches his head, as if aching to remember something, but the particular something he's trying to recall just so happens to not be that important. "Gah. Too much geld to know vat to do vith it. I drive, I like to drive. It just so happens zat I don't need to do so around here. Not anymore. Not so much. I've settled vith zee necessities zat's all- don't really need a car in zis state."
"Necessities? Such as?"
He counts with his fingers. "Oh you know, a couple of cars, a nice little boat, a small plane…"
"A plane?!" I nearly shout.
He shrugs. "I needed coverage for land, sea and sky."
"Verwildert, where are these things? Why do you have them?!" Russet gapes.
Papa rolls his eyes. "You can't be too prepared. Zey're back at zee villa. In Germany. I use zem plenty back home. I'm not spoiled. It's not as if zey're sittink sere, gaserink dust. I even run zem myself."
"You can sail?" Russet gawks.
"You can fly?!" I gawk even louder.
He clicks his tongue and waves us off. "Nosink to it. Anybody can learn."
"B-but two or three cars? That covers more than the bare necessities." I tease, not really meaning anything.
He smiles.
Too widely.
"Papa?" I question, suspicious.
"Vell of course I don't need anoser car. Zee little one is for your graduation."
"Gleek!" I squeak a positively inhuman sound, shocked out of my wits.
"Goodness!" Russet squeaks.
"Y-you got me a car?!" I begin to flush.
"Vhy yes. You'll need it. In fact, you need it now. You schould at zee very least know how to drive, Missy. Don't vorry, I'm goink to teach you."
"B-but when did you? How did you?-"
"Not too long ago. Around zee time I vas gettink your room accommodations sorted. I've got BIG plans." He ruffles my hair.
"B-b-b-b-b-ah… I-I. You-"
"I know, I know. But I need to have it shipped over here. By your next holiday we'll start teachink you how to drive. BUT. You're gettink to keep zee car vhen you graduate, no sooner zan zat. And you can't sveet talk your vay into acquirink it sooner eiser. I've mentally prepared myself for zat. If you continue to do vell in school, consider it yours. I expect you to graduate vith honors! Honor students deserve cars." He wags his finger.
We board the train, squished into a mass of flesh and varying smells. Russet looks extremely uncomfortable. Over an hour of standing and we finally can sit for the last leg of our journey.
"Why can't you just teleport us there?" Russet whines.
Papa leans back and stretches. "Oh, I could. I most definitely could. But zen I'd have to go srough zee trouble of cloakink us, landink in a secluded spot, or if I decided to be brasch, I'd have to tamper vith zee space so zee mundane don't remember vat happened. And I'd have to double check to make sure zat it vorked too. It's not zee same as enterink an enchanted area, already set up vith vards and charms so zat you can valk around freely. Not vorth zee risk of exposure. I'd raser save such energies for emergencies."
I grin. "And teleporting us out of being stuck in tunnel traffic is an emergency?"
Papa fumes. "My patience is emergency enough! Besides, I had to be a goot example to you. Like my Mama vas to me, to not rely on magick for trivial tasks."
"Oh bull-"
"Stille!" He hushes me, and we break into laughter.
We arrive at Coney Island. As expected, it's bustling with activity. Tourists and locals alike have all gathered for fun in the sun on the beach and adrenaline-rushed adventures on the rides. A group shrieks over our heads aboard the largest roller coaster. Far off you can see smiling and giggling riders on the swirly swing. Jugglers, stilt walkers and street performers vie for attention. Everything is a barrage of color, music, and the gleeful screaming of patrons. The scent of fried food fills the air.
The rumbling of our stomachs leads us to the first task at hand. As we're walking on the boardwalk we come across many junk-filled options. Ice cream, buttered pretzels, chips, soda, cotton candy, hot dogs, funnel cake. Papa settles with a funnel cake for each of us, his- a portion cut for Russet, mine without the disgusting sugar powder, buttered pretzels, a burger for himself and lemonades.
Russet is having a field day. "WOOOAH! Look at that! What's that over there? Lumie! What does this do?" Pointing this way and that, asking various questions, calling upon the gods for wisdom and mercy.
"Wow! This is good!" When e tries funnel cake for the first time.
"Eeeyuck. What's that smell?" When we pass a group of potheads.
"HAHAHAHA! What does he have on his head?" Towards a man who has won a plushy squid hat.
After a good walking we decide to start the amusement with carnival games. I pick out the rubber ducky stand.
"How does this game work?" E asks.
"It's more like gambling. You pay a small fee, then you pick a duck. Each duck is tagged with a number, but as you can see, those numbers are bottom-down, that's so we don't know which number we get when we choose a duck."
"What's the point in that?"
I point to the chart above the vendor's head. "See that chart? It's the number chart, with prizes listed aside the numbers available to pick. They range in value, so the point of not seeing your number is to get a fair chance, not to horde the good prizes for yourself. It's random."
"I get it now."
"It's a super cheap game too. Only a quarter. But that's what makes it addicting. Before you know it, you've already spent $5." I sigh in reminiscence.
"Well get on with it. Pick Lumie, pick!"
I think all that sugar is getting you hyper. I carefully select my duck.
"9!" The hefty vendor wearing a ridiculous pirate hat announces.
That means I win… A handful of gumballs.
Against my better judgement, I hand them over to Russet. The excitable squeaks and giggles from behind me, plus the baritone chuckles of my grandfather tell me that e has never had gumballs before. Then I hear a "Pop!" And a panicked squeal from behind me, followed by Papa failing to hold in his wheezing laughter.
I don't even bother looking. Congrats Russet, you blew a bubble.
Now let's see… This one.
"17!" My number is announced.
What did I win? "Pffft." Stickers. I won. Disney Princess... stickers…
Great. Okay, one more go. I'm sure I can win a plush or a shirt or a hat, or something else!
"30!"
Maybe because it's a high number the prize will be better? NOPE. Glitter gloss. "Ew."
"Let me give it a go."
I graciously stand aside, presenting the ducky bowl in a grand manner. Papa flips the vendor a coin and…
"5! That means you get to go again for free."
That's interesting.
Papa picks another duck.
"1! We have a lucky winner!"
Huh? Did he win the grand prize? So Papa won a- what?! Free ride tickets!
The vendor hands Papa a small bundle of orange tickets, used to gain admission for the thrill rides. The better the ride, the more tickets it costs. On the bundle label it reads "100".
"One hundred tickets." I say in awe.
Papa shakes them in my face. "Leave zee gamblink to zee grown-ups Missy."
I twist my mouth into fishy lips.
"Oh don't be sour Lumie. After all, you have your pretty stickers and glitter to play with." Russet bullies.
"Ugh." I respond in both envy and disgust.
"Hahaha!" "Hehehe." They slap palms.
These two sync way too well for my health.
Papa picks out another booth. "Ah. Zat one."
"Which one is this Verwildert?"
"Basic target practice. Zese mechanisms here are vater pistols. You pull zee trigger and shoot a spray of vater at zee target. Zis game is time limited, and the closer you hit to zee bullseye, the faster your tank is filled. Zee goal of zee game is to fill up zee tank as much as you can before time runs out. It's not a single person game, you need an opponent to gauge a vinner. I challenge you Missy."
"Challenge accepted." I don't hesitate.
"Oooh, let's see this out."
The short, thin vendor dressed in a purple pinstripe suit counts us down. "Ready? Aim. Fire!"
Wacky music blares from the speakers overhead, along with a visual countdown screen. We have thirty seconds.
"Go Verwildert go! Aim for the middle!"
I can't bother with obstructions or distractions, I focus soley on my target. The nozzle is wobbly and the gun is hard to keep stable from the force the water is rushing out. With six seconds left, I glance at Papa's tank. Almost filled to the brim! While I'm just below his amount. Aaargh! I've already lost.
"Winnerrrrr!" Shouts the vendor.
"Woohoo! Verwildert is the best!"
Hmph. I remember when I used to be the favorite. Russet you ditched me.
Papa is handed a braided string bracelet, which he tosses to me. "Here. Booby prize." He taunts.
"Keep your booby prize. I want a rematch." I say childishly chucking the bracelet to the ground.
The glimmer in his eyes tells me he's already accepted. Without another word we sit back on our stools.
"Ready? Aim. Fire!"
I pull back the trigger as hard as I can, the amount of spray is enormous. I don't even bothering glancing at Papa this time. I'm drowning out Russet's cheers. Unfortunately for me, the pistol is quite heavy and the trigger is fixed, difficult to pull back. I lose another game with sore fingertips. Papa is given a second bracelet, which he also hands to me.
"Next game, next game." Russet demands hopping up and down, nearly sliding off Papa's head.
The next game we approach is another target game. "Still vant to face me? Or vould you raser vatch?"
I accept his obvious challenge. We approach the stand after a young couple has had their turn.
I watch them walk away, arm in arm...
"I think I know how this one works." Russet announces. E points. "It's another target game. You're supposed to throw the little ball towards these bottles and knock over as many as you can. Then you get a prize?"
"Only if you knock down ALL of the bottles." I correct.
"Fascinating." E states.
Papa goes first.
"You get three tries." The vendor instructs.
Papa takes one step back, winds up, and there's the pitch! The ball zooms past me, and in a little white blur all of the bottles are knocked over. The vendor stands there. Mouth agape.
"Ahem!" Papa clears his throat loudly.
"O-oh yes, yes. Right. Uh. Pick your prize."
Papa picks out a cheesy "I Love NY" shirt in black, and in about ten sizes too small. Then he hands it to me. I point to myself in a quizzical manner, and he nods assuring me.
My turn. I'm handed the little ball, and with determination I swing. There is the satisfying clinking of bottles, but alas, not all of them are knocked over. The vendor sets them up again.
"Schould I do it?"
"If you don't mind, I'd like to use the last try."
He shrugs. I step back this time, and I pitch a curved ball. The bottles clink and clunk. Shoot! I only needed the last two.
"Hurrah! Verwildert is better!" Russet gloats.
"I think we should move on to another game." I pout.
We approach the "Ring The Bell" stand. "Ah. I have to do zis one." Papa states.
"And what does this one do?"
"It's a measure of strength. On that device is a flat and measuring scale. You're given a heavy mallet to swing on the flat, which activates a mechanism that pushes the little weight up the scale. If you're really strong, the weight will be pushed high enough to ring the bell. Then you win a prize."
"Huh."
"Most people cannot ring zee bell. It's more of a chance to schow off raser zan vin a prize. Youngsters do it to impress seir lady friends."
"Could this be categorized under aspects of the human mating ritual?"
Papa and I burst into laughter. "Showing off to impress potential mates is universal Russet. But, in a way, you're right. It's competition, like most of these games are. People trying to prove they're better than one another. I suppose that's why carnivals and amusement parks are so popular amongst the youth-"
"Aren't you a member of society's youth?" Russet points out.
"Well yes, I-"
"We need to show Lumie some fun Verwildert. She's aging decades by the second."
"Hey!"
Papa approaches the scale.
"You be careful old man." The vendor warns.
He is given the mallet, and to bystanders' shock he twirls it in one hand. Then with a huff, he slams the mallet down onto the flat. The little weight flies up the scale and rings the bell with a very loud "DONG!" Papa earns applause and several hoots from people standing by to watch.
Amazed, the vendor shakily hands Papa another bundle of tickets.
I approach the stand.
"Woah, woah, little girl. Maybe this isn't the game for you."
"I am no child, I merely want to give it a try."
Surprised by my answer, probably because I sound older than I look, he steps aside. "Heh. If you say so, girly."
I lift the mallet, a little shakily. Papa and Russet are watching, plus a few people close by. I straighten my back, bend my knees and swing the mallet hard over my shoulder with a grunt. "THWOMP!" Goes the flat. A gasp from the crowd tells me my hit went far. I look at the weight steadily travel up the scale and with a light "Tink!" I barely hit the bell. But hey, I did it. I didn't think I was going to be able to do it.
I earn a light applause. Without a word, I hold out my hand and accept my tickets.
"Zat's my granddaughter, you schould know." Papa gloats.
"I-I can see the family resemblance." The vendor stutters.
We walk off, smiling and giggling. Tired of games, or more so, the lame prizes games have to offer. We view the attractions.
"World's largest rat?" Russet questions, staring at a overly-dramatized painting of a giant, feral sewer rat devouring an unfortunate man.
We pay our fee and enter the viewing block. Inside is a miserable-looking creature. Cramped in a wire cage, smoldering in the heat. Its fur is a reddish-brown, its head blunt and stocky, a round belly, short limbs and large front teeth.
"It's a capybara." I deadpan, not amused by the animal's predicament.
"The creature is clearly uncomfortable. He is hot and stiff. He wants to be let out so he can chew on the bushes and stretch his legs." Russet understands.
Papa leads us away, we view other attractions.
"A two-headed snake." Russet presses emself against the glass.
The snake slithers in es direction, sensing es presence.
"That mutation is quite common now." I state.
We see an armless frog, an albino crocodile, and a dog with an extra leg.