Grace Kelly and the Great Carnival Caper

 

By: Kenda

 

 

*There’s a reference in this story to a fan fic story entitled, A Journey Into The Past, by Brenda A.  I don’t believe A Journey Into The Past is housed anywhere on the Internet.  It was an excellent piece of fan fiction, and was based on the theory that A.J. was ten years old when his father died, and in the car when Jack Simon was killed as a result of injuries incurred that night.  Brenda wrote this story several years before the episode May The Road Rise Up aired.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

     Cecilia Simon issued final instructions as she dropped her sons off outside the front gate. 

 

     "You boys stay together.  Rick, you're responsible for A.J.  Don't you dare lose sight of him."

 

     Rick slid out the wide rear door of his mother's '59 Chevy.  The pale blue car had been purchased the year before with the help of a check from the insurance company.  It replaced the red Buick that had been totaled the night Jack Simon was killed on a curvy canyon road, and his young son, A.J., injured.

 

     "I know, Mom," Rick assured impatiently.  "I know."

 

     Eleven-year-old A.J. scooted out behind his brother and gave the heavy door a firm slam.

 

     "A.J., don't wander off on your brother.  And do as he says."

 

     A.J. resisted the urge to roll his eyes.  These same instructions came every time Rick was left in charge of him for whatever reason.   He thought his mother would realize by now both he and Rick had the instructions memorized.

 

     "Don't worry, Mom, I will."

 

     "Are your watches set?"

 

     Both boys dutifully looked at their wristwatches.   By all accounts, including Cecilia's, it was three p.m. on Saturday afternoon, October 28th, 1960.

 

     "I'll meet you boys right here at nine."

 

     "Mom, that's way too early!"  Rick protested as hoards of noisy kids rushed past them. "Things will just be gettin' goin' by then.  Make it midnight."

 

     "No," Cecilia shook her head,  "not midnight.  How about ten?"

 

     "Make it eleven," Rick bartered playfully,  "and you've got yerself a deal, Mrs. Simon."

 

     Cecilia paused in thought.  The scent of sweet cotton candy and roasting hot dogs wafted into the car.  She could faintly hear the music that accompanied the slow whirling of the Merry-Go-Round, and the show voice of a barker trying to entice some youngster into giving his game a try.

 

     The Coastal Cities Carnival came to San Diego each year on the weekend preceding Halloween.  The event was held at the fairgrounds eight miles from the Simon home, and was filled with all the things kids love best; food, rides, games, and a haunted house.  Jack had taken the boys every year for as long as Cecilia could remember.  The only time Rick and A.J. missed the event was the previous year.  Jack had been killed in August.  When Halloween rolled around neither of Cecilia's boys mentioned the carnival they had always enjoyed so much.  She could only assume attending the event without their father so soon after his death was too painful for either one of them to consider. 

 

     But this year was different, and for that Cecilia was thankful.  She'd begun to see signs of healing within her sons and herself in recent months.   She was happy when, in September, the boys began discussing the upcoming carnival, and began to squirrel away their spending money in anticipation of it.

 

     Cecilia’s only reservation came from allowing them to attend by themselves.  Of course, Rick was old enough to look after himself and A.J., but she'd heard too many stories about carnival people not to have a few concerns.  However, she had no desire to spend the afternoon and evening at the raucous event, and after some thought had finally decided to allow them to attend alone.  As she watched kids of all ages race by her car, many of them unsupervised, she supposed she was worrying for nothing.  After all, Rick was sixteen.  Provided he didn't lose track of A.J. in the crowds everything should be fine.

 

     "All right," Cecilia finally agreed,  "eleven it is.  But on the dot."  She held up a stern finger.  "If I have to come in there looking for either one of you this will be the last carnival you ever attend."

 

     Rick smiled and bent to kiss his mother's cheek through the open car window.  "Gottcha, Mom."

 

     A.J. copied his brother's action.  "Got ya', Mom."

 

     Cecilia handed each of her sons a five dollar bill.  "That's to be used for your supper.  Don't fill up on junk.  And don't spend it all on rides and games and then forget to eat.  Use your own money for that."

 

     "Yes, ma'am."  Rick's feet danced in the dust, just itching to make a run for the entrance booth.  He stuffed the five dollar bill deep in a front pocket of his blue jeans.  It joined the twenty-five dollars he already had there that he'd saved from his after-school job at the corner gas station.

 

     A.J. pulled carefully folded money from his own pocket.  In contrast to his brother, he fastidiously placed the five dollar bill his mother had given him between a five and five singles he had earned from his paper route.  The money was neatly returned to the right rear pocket of his Levi's.

 

     When Cecilia couldn't think of one other thing to caution her children about she bid them goodbye.  "Have a good time.  I'll see you at eleven."

 

     Rick held up a thumb.  "Eleven it is, Mom.  Bye!"

 

     "Bye, Mom!"  A.J. waved.

 

     Cecilia engaged the clutch and gas pedal.  Being careful of the children crossing her path, she slowly eased through the massive field being used as a parking lot.  She gave a final backwards wave out the window before turning down a bumpy row that would lead her to the street.

 

     Rick snared his brother's shirtfront and took off running.  "Come on, A.J.!"

 

     The boys joined a fast moving line.  They each paid the fifty cent admission price, and were then allowed to enter the vast fairgrounds.

 

     The dirt path the brothers followed was wide and lined with long one story agriculture buildings on the east side, and portable booths on the west.  The vendors in the booths were selling everything from saltwater taffy, to caramel apples, to soda, to corn dogs, to balloons, to turquoise belt buckles.

 

     The six barns to the right of the dirt road were permanent structures owned by the city of San Diego.  They still housed some livestock during the week the fair ran in June, but because the city was ever-growing and its agriculture area being overrun by expansion, the buildings were also used to display prize winning artwork, baked goods, and blue ribbon school projects done by local children.  As happened every year when Costal Cities Carnival came to town, one of the barns had been converted to a haunted house.  Rick pointed it out to A.J. as they passed.

 

     "Look, there's the spook house.  We'll wait until it gets dark to go in.  It'll be better that way."

 

     A.J. nodded his agreement.  Like most eleven-year-old boys, there was nothing he enjoyed more than horror movies, monsters, and having his wits scared out of him in a haunted house.  

 

     Jack had been bringing Rick to this annual outing since he was five.  A.J. joined the men in his family when he was just a little guy of three.  By now the Simon brothers considered themselves connoisseurs of the event.  They knew exactly which booths offered the best food, which rides lasted the longest and provided the biggest thrills, and which games were rip-offs, and which ones were run by at least halfway honest carneys.

 

     Because the carnival came to San Diego during the Halloween season its workers dressed in costumes for this one weekend.  Vampires, ghouls, werewolves, mummies, gypsies, ghosts, and pirates were in abundance.  A large number of the smaller children frequenting the carnival with their parents were dressed up as well.   Rick and A.J. used to do that in their younger years, but now it wasn't considered 'cool' among kids Rick's age to dress for Halloween.  And since A.J. emulated much of what his big brother did, he decided dressing up wasn't cool either.

 

     The brothers spent the next two hours working their way through the grounds.  They were zipped on the Zipper, tilted on the Tilt-O-Whirl, scrambled on the Scrambler, and tossed around a multitude of other rides that weren't for the weak of heart or stomach.   Enticing smells caused the boys to stop at a variety of food booths throughout the afternoon and do just what their mother had told them not to, fill up on junk.  They encountered school friends in their travels, hooking up with groups of them long enough to laugh, gossip, and ride a few rides before they'd all go their separate ways again.

 

     It was beginning to grow dark when Rick and A.J. made their way down the path lined with booths operated by game vendors.  Rick stopped at four of them in a row, shelling out money for a chance to win cheap prizes.   When he walked away three dollars poorer he mumbled to A.J. in disgust,  "They're all rigged."

 

     A.J. was much more selective in how he spent his money.  He enjoyed watching his brother attempt to toss rings over the top of Coke bottles and lob ping pong balls into gold fish bowls, but he had no desire himself to partake in something he doubted he'd have success at.  While Rick was engrossed in his games of chance, A.J. studied the remainder of the nearby vendors.  He spotted a game that involved throwing darts at balloons of various sizes.  From what he could ascertain, the smaller the balloon you hit the better the prize you won.

 

     The blond boy pointed across the way.  "I wanna try that one."

 

     Rick nodded.  They had a dartboard in their basement family room.  Though Rick no longer made much use of it, A.J. and his friends enjoyed playing the game.

 

     "You might have some luck," Rick said as they ambled across the dirt road.  "You're good at darts."   

 

     A young girl Rick guessed to be about his own age was leaning on her booth's wooden ledge trying to get kids to plunk down fifty cents for a chance to throw three darts.  Her oval face was small, and her complexion clear and creamy.  Her eyes were a deep shade of blue, her coal colored hair straight and cascading to her waist.

 

     "Step right up!  Step right up!  Three chances fer half a buck!  Ya' can't beat them odds!

 

     "Hey, fella!  I can see your girlfriend eyein' these here fine necklaces!  Come on in!  Three chances fer fifty cents!  It's an easy game!  No one walks away a loser!

 

     "Hey there, handsome, I bet ya' never lose at anything ya' do!  Prove it to the little lady beside ya'!"

 

     Rick had to admit the girl was a pro.  She could tease with charm, and had a flair for the dramatic.  She seemed to know just what line of bull to feed people in order to get them to stop and give her game a try. 

 

     A.J. was content to wait in line for his turn.  Rick was content to wait with him and study from afar the attractive vendor in her skimpy costume.  The teen wasn't exactly sure what the petite girl was supposed to be, but he was enjoying himself trying to figure it out.  The black cotton dress she wore was sleeveless with a plunging neckline that ended in a wide tight U just above her breasts.  A fair amount of cleavage was showing, and Rick didn't think she was wearing a bra.  When she stood on a wooden milk crate to pull darts from the upper portion of the cork board Rick could see the hem of her dress was cut in ragged strips that traveled from just below her knees to halfway up her shapely thighs.  Depending on how she moved a guy could get an appreciative look at an awful lot of this chick.

 

     By the time the Simon brothers reached the head of the line activity around them was beginning to dwindle.  It was almost five-thirty.  A good portion of the carnival's patrons were taking a break from the activities to eat supper.  Because there was no one else waiting behind Rick and A.J., the girl offered them her undivided attention.

 

     "Hey, good lookin'," she drawled at A.J.,  "what can I do ya' for?"

 

     A.J. plunked down his fifty cents.  "Three darts, please."

 

     The girl laid three darts in front of the blond boy.  Without even seeming to aim, he hit three balloons in a row. 

 

     "Whewy!  I got myself a hotshot here," the girl praised.  She pointed to the prizes on the shelf behind her.  Everything from plastic whistles, to stuffed animals, to jewelry was on display.  She indicated which row of prizes A.J. was eligible for based on the balloons he'd hit.

 

     The boy thought a moment then conferred with Rick.  "I'd like to get something for Mom.  Do you think she'd like that ring?"

 

     Rick studied the cheap gold band A.J. pointed to with the large glass ruby in the center.  He knew it probably wasn't worth anymore than the fifty cents A.J. had just given the girl, but he didn't want to disappoint his little brother by telling him so.  Besides, none of the other prizes A.J. was eligible for were worth anything either, so what the heck, if the kid thought he was giving their mom something nice by picking out that ring for her then so be it.

 

     "Sure, that's nice.  Mom will like it."

 

     "It's a dandy choice," the girl agreed.  "But if ya' pass it by I'll give ya' two more throws on the house.  If ya' hit your target both times I'll let ya' pick a prize from the second row."

 

     A.J. eyed the colorful bracelets and necklaces in the row behind the ring.  He thought a moment, then nodded his head.  It would be neat if he could win his mother an even better piece of jewelry without it costing him anything extra.

 

     The boy concentrated a little harder this time as he aimed for the smaller balloons inner mixed with the larger.  He knew, based on the rules of the game, if he hit two small ones the girl would be forced to give him his prize, plus let him take another two throws for free.

 

     A.J. drew back his arm and let the dart fly with a flick of his wrist.  A tiny balloon gave a sharp 'pop' when the dart punctured it.

 

     "All right, A.J.!"  Rick encouraged.  "Way to go!"

 

     Much to the boy's disappointment, however, his next throw missed.

 

     The girl winked at Rick and put two more darts in front of his little brother.  "'Cause I like ya' and all, and 'cause you're tryin' to win a prize for your mama, you go ahead and take yerself two more throws for free on ole' Grace."

 

     A.J. grinned with appreciation.  "Really?"

 

     "Really."

 

     "Gee thanks."

 

     This time both A.J.'s throws were right on target.  He chose a beaded necklace for his mother, and then gave Grace fifty cents more for another three throws.

 

     This action repeated itself several times until A.J. had amassed a bracelet embossed with colorful stones and a sweater pin to match.  While the eleven-year-old was engaged in the dart game, Rick was engaged in a game of his own.

 

     The lanky boy leaned against the ledge and flirted with the young vendor.  "So, your name's Grace, huh?"

 

     "You bet, buddy boy.  Grace Kelly."

 

     Rick gave a sarcastic snort.  "Yeah, right."

 

     "It is," the girl declared with indignation. 

 

     "Grace Kelly was an actress who married that prince a few years ago," Rick scoffed.

 

     "So what?  Ya' got such a small brain in that head a' yours that ya' don't think there can be two Grace Kelly's in the world?"

     Rick hadn't meant to ruin his chances with the girl by insulting her, so quickly made amends.  "No, no, I don't think that.  If you say your name is Grace Kelly, then Grace Kelly it is.  I'm Rick Simon, and the kid with the eagle eye over there is my little brother A.J."

     The pair came to a silent truce and talked on amiably while A.J. pursued the game.  Rick realized Grace was no longer charging his little brother as she continued to place darts in front of him.  The teen got the impression she was enjoying their conversation and didn't want to stop for distractions such as collecting money from an eleven-year-old boy.

 

     The girl set A.J. up with more darts then turned back to Rick. 

 

     "Ya' all live 'round here?"

 

     "Yeah.  A few miles away in Mission Bay.  I'm a junior at Mission Bay High.  What about you?  Where do you go to school?"

 

     The girl stood up straighter and stuck out her chest as though trying to make herself appear older than she really was.  "I'm outta school.  I'm twenty."

 

     Rick wasn't so naive as to believe that.  He doubted she was much more than fifteen, but he wasn't going to risk insulting her again by disputing her facts.  If she wanted to be Grace Kelly, and be twenty years old while she was at it, that was fine with him. 

 

     Rick's eyes traveled down her dress and back up again.  They lingered for a subtle, appreciative drink of her breasts before returning to her face.  "So, what are you supposed to be?"

 

     "What am I supposed to be?"

 

     "Yeah, you know.  Your costume."

 

     "Oh."  The girl gave Rick a coy smile.  "Ya' mean ya' can't figure it out?"

 

     "Well, uh no, I can't.  Though it looks really nice on you."

 

     Grace fluttered her eye lashes at the entranced boy and teased,   "Why thank ya' kind, sir."  She inwardly giggled at the way Rick's face reddened at her flirting.  Grace's carnival life had taught her long ago that two could play at this game.

 

     "Actually, I'm supposed to be a wench."

 

     "A wench?"

 

     "Yeah.  Among other things, wenches were servants to aristocrats back in the renaissance times."

 

     Grace hardly thought this red faced boy from the wealthy suburb of Mission Bay was ready to hear the rest of a wench's function.  Therefore, she chose not to tell him that their services were also made use of in their master's bed.

 

     Even with the free throws Grace was giving him, A.J. soon tired of the game.  He collected his prizes and shoved them in a pocket of his pants.  He turned to his brother as his stomach growled.

 

     "Let's go get supper."

 

     "Sounds good to me, kid."  Rick looked at Grace.  "Can you leave here for a little while and come eat with us?"

 

     Grace thought a moment.  Normally she only left her booth long enough to go to the bathroom and grab some type of food she could eat while she continued to work.  It had been a long time since she'd sat down to a leisurely meal with other people for company.  It would be nice to feel like a part of a family again, even if it was for only a half an hour with two boys she barely knew.

 

     "If ya' kin wait long enough for me to close up my booth I'll come with ya' all."

 

     "Sure," Rick eagerly agreed,  "we can wait."

 

     The girl quickly secured her cash box and prizes on a shelf

underneath the front ledge.  She climbed up on the milk crate and loosened the ties that kept a red tarp rolled up above the booth's large front opening.  Rick strained on his tiptoes to ease the tarp down with Grace.  Once it was in place she called through its thickness, "Ya' all should see a few hooks out there under the ledge!  Kin ya' guys tie it down for me?"

 

     Rick and A.J. bent to peek under the wooden ledge.  Just as Grace had said, there were three large hooks screwed into the bottom of it.  The boys grabbed the short rope ties that ran through metal rings in the bottom of the tarp and wrapped them around the hooks.  By the time Grace emerged from the back of the booth the job was complete.

 

     No one had any particular food preference, so Rick led the way to a hamburger stand he knew to be good.  He reached in his pocket and pulled out a ten dollar bill. 

 

     "Here, A.J.  I'll pay if you'll get burgers, Cokes, and fries for all of us."

 

     The blond boy took the money.  "Gee thanks, Rick."

 

     "Sure thing, kid."

 

     A.J. raced off to place the order while Rick guided Grace to an empty picnic table sitting under a floodlight. 

 

     The girl's entire personality changed in a way Rick couldn't quite explain.  She seemed softer somehow, less aggressive and more feminine, as though the Grace he had met earlier was nothing other than a stage presence for the sake of her audience.

 

     "Ya' didn't have to pay for my supper, Rick," she said in that sexy Southern drawl that made Rick's heart beat faster.  "I brought money to buy my own."

 

     "That's okay," Rick shrugged with nonchalance.  "Besides, I asked you to join us.  My dad always taught me if you ask a lady to join you for dinner you pay for that privilege."

 

     Grace smiled.  "Your daddy must be a very proper man."

 

     "Yeah, he was."

 

     "Was?"

 

     "He...he was killed last summer in a car accident."

 

     The girl's voice was wrought with sympathy.  "Oh, Rick, I'm so sorry to hear that."

 

     "Thanks.  It's...it's been a rough year for all of us."

 

     "How many of ya' all are there?"

 

     "Just me, A.J., and our mom.  But A.J. was with Dad in the car that night.  He was hurt, but not so bad he didn't know what was goin' on."

 

     "What was goin' on?"

     "Yeah.  They were trapped in the car for a long time before help arrived.  Dad was...killed instantly.  A.J., well A.J. knew Dad was dead.  He's had a hard time gettin' past that."

 

     "Poor baby," Grace crooned.  She looked over at the blond boy where he stood at the booth awaiting their order.  "He's such a cute kid.  Real polite, too.  Reminds me of my little brother, Dean Robert.  They're about the same age."

 

     "How many brothers and sisters do you have?"

     The girl laughed at a joke Rick didn't quite understand.  "Well, if nothin's changed since I left in February, I have six brothers and three sisters.  I'm the oldest."

 

     "Holy cow!  Six brothers and three sisters!  Your family is even bigger than my friend Carlos's."

 

     "Usually we all travel with the carnival.  But mama was real sick last winter after she had Jimmy Joe.  He's the baby.  Or least-wise for now he is.  So come February, when it was time for us to pack up and hit the road again, Daddy didn't feel he could leave her.  Instead of puttin' the burden of the younger ones on me, they decided I should run our booth alone and the kids would stay at home with them."

 

     "Stay at home?  Where's home?"

 

     "When you're a carney there's really no place that's home, I don't suppose.  But in our case we winter in Sotterville, Louisiana."

 

     "Winter there?  What's that mean?"

 

     "W.C., the man who owns this carnival, runs it from February through November.  We start in New Orleans during Mardi Gras, and from there move to Florida.  We travel up the East coast, across the Midwest, through Wyoming, Montana and Idaho during rodeo season, over to Washington and Oregon, then down to California and onto Texas until we make it back to Louisiana just before Thanksgivin'.  We close down then until February.  It gives everyone a chance to rest, repair their booths and rides, and spend time with their families if they have any.  So by winterin' in Sotterville I mean that's where my family rents a house until it's time to go on the road again."

 

     Rick's admiration was plain to hear. "Cool."    He had always been lured by the call of the open road just like his Uncle Ray.  He thought it sounded neat to get to see so many different places.

 

     "What about school?  Do you...did you go?"

 

     Grace smiled and dropped her eyes.  "I'm not really twenty.  That's just what I tell nosey people who ask.  My daddy and W.C. could get in a peck a' trouble if someone told the authorities I'm travelin' with the carnival without my parents along."

 

     "So how old are you?"

     "I'll be sixteen come next March."

 

     "So back to my original question.  What about school?"

 

     "There's a couple folks here at the carnival that's got themselves a good education.  They teach all us carney brats when we're on the road.  They hold regular classes, or as near to regular as they kin git considerin' our schedule.  W.C.'s strict about us learnin.’  We do homework and such just like ya' all do.  Then when me and my family are in Sotterville us kids attend the public schools."

 

     "They let you do that?  I mean the principals and school board let you guys come and go as you please?"

     "There's not much they can do about it I don't 'cpect.  A couple carnivals winter near there so they're used to it.  Plus, they git a lotta kids who are passin' through each year 'cause their parents are migrant workers.  Kids comin' and goin' day in and day out is a common thing for those parts."

 

     Despite Rick's own dislike of school, he didn't think it

sounded like a good way to come by an education.  His parents would never allow he and A.J. to be schooled in such a fashion.

 

     Rick smiled at the girl and gave her a teasing wink.  "I don't wanna risk gettin' you mad at me again, but I'm willing to bet your real name isn't Grace Kelly either."

 

     The girl blushed.  "Naw, that's just my stage name."

 

     "Stage name?"

 

     "Sure.  A lot of us carney's take one.  After all, would you want to strike a deal with a girl named Lenora Ruth Elsfelter?"

 

     "That's your real name?"

 

     "Yeah," the girl acknowledged glumly.  "My mama and daddy weren't exactly thinkin' glamour when they picked that one out.  Mama says she chooses practical names for children, not glamorous ones.  She wants us all to be educated and work in offices.  Me...well me, I'd rather go into show business.  Someday I'ma gonna walk away from this carnival when we're passin' through Hollywood and never look back."

 

     "I don't think Lenora Ruth is such a bad name," Rick offered honestly.  "It fits you.  It's spunky and soft both at the same time."

 

     Grace laughed.  "Spunky and soft, huh?  Well, I guess that's me.  My spunky side comes from livin' a carney's life since I was in diapers, and I reckon my soft side comes from bein' the second mother to a whole passel of little brothers and sisters."

 

     Rick smiled with affection as A.J. joined them carrying a tray of food.  "Yeah, I know what you mean.  That kinda responsibility can soften a person up a bit."

 

     The food was evenly distributed and a squeeze bottle of ketchup passed around.  The trio laughed, joked, teased and talked while they ate.  When A.J. insisted on buying everyone caramel apples for dessert as a payback for Rick treating them to supper, Grace was overcome by the brothers' kindness.  It made her homesick for her own family, and even more grateful to these two boys who had befriended her.

 

     Grace watched A.J. trot away to get the dessert.  "You and A.J. are real nice, Rick.  Your mama has done a good job in raisin' ya' up right."

 

     Rick laughed.  "I'll be sure to pass that along to her.  She'll be happy to hear it, 'cause sometimes me and A.J. give her reason to wonder about that.  Or so she claims when we've pulled some stunt that makes her blow a fuse."

 

     The girl was both shy and flirtatious in her confession.  "I can't imagine that either you or A.J. would ever give your mama reason to be upset."

 

     "Well, let me put it this way, A.J. doesn't give her near as much reason as I do.  But you stick around me much, kid, and you're bound to see me in a different light."

 

     "I'd like that, Rick," the girl said demurely, while peering at Rick through her eyelashes.  "To stick around ya,' I mean."

 

     Rick swallowed hard.  "I...I'd like that too, Grace."

 

     The teen was just working up the nerve to reach across the table and take the girl's hand when A.J. returned with three large round caramel apples. 

 

     Geez, talk about lousy timing, Rick moaned to himself.  As he bit into the crisp sweet fruit he wondered if there was some way he could get rid of A.J. for an hour or so.  Just long enough to have some time alone with Grace.  He wanted to be able to walk around the grounds with her while holding her hand.  Maybe even go back to her booth and do a little necking behind that dropped tarp. 

 

     I could give A.J. some money and send him off to the rides again.  He's bound to run across some kids he knows from school.  But, damn, Mom will kill me if she finds out.  Plus, it'd be just my luck that somethin' would happen to him.  Sure as the world if I send him off alone he'll fall out of the Scrambler and crack his skull open or worse.  Maybe I can convince Mom to let me come back here tomorrow without A.J.

 

     While A.J. and Grace ate their apples and talked, Rick's mind went over that plan.  Unfortunately, he couldn't imagine how he'd pull it off.  For one thing, he'd probably be out of money, and for another, he doubted his mother would let him return.  And A.J. would raise a holy fit if Rick came back to the carnival without him. 

 

     The entire situation made the teenager wish even more that he already owned that used motorcycle he had his eye on.   Within just a few weeks he'd have enough money saved for it provided he could convince his mother it was a safe way to get around.  Like all sixteen-year-olds, Rick longed for the freedom his own means of transportation would provide.

 

     Damn!  If I only had that cycle now, or even a car of my own, I could come back here without Mom or A.J. ever knowin'. 

 

     Short of disobeying his mother regarding his responsibility to A.J., Rick couldn't find a way out of the quandary.  As Grace stood to thank the brothers for supper and return to her booth, Rick offered the only thing he could think of that would allow them to spend a little more time together.

 

     "Uh...hey, me and A.J. were gonna go through the haunted house.  You wanna come with us?"

     The regret on Grace's face broadcast her indecision.  "I really shouldn't.  I need to get back to my booth."

 

     "We won't be that long," Rick promised.  "Just one trip through, then I'll walk you back there myself."

     The girl knew she should refuse.  The money earned from her family's booth was their sole income for the year other than what little her daddy was picking up doing odd jobs back home in Sotterville.  Yet she had often missed out on so much during her growing up years because of the lifestyle she lived.  The things most kids took for granted, riding their bikes, walking to the local movie theatre with friends, or a Saturday night date, were activities Grace didn't normally get to partake in.  For as long as she could remember, she'd worked alongside her parents at the carnival or tended to her younger siblings.

 

     Grace smiled and took the hand Rick offered her.  "Okay, ya' all have talked me into it."  She looked to A.J.  "That is if it's all right with A.J. for me to horn in on your fun."

 

     Unbeknownst to Rick or their mother, A.J. was just beginning to get to the age where he had appreciation for an attractive young woman in a revealing dress.   Had it been just a year earlier he might have resented this girl for taking up time Rick was supposed to be spending with him.  But now all that was changing as the sixth grader stood posed on the brink of adolescence.  While he understood that simply because of her age, Grace would be attracted to Rick, he could still enjoy her from afar.  She was pretty and nice, and when she reached for his hand, too, he willingly gave it to her.

 

     "I don't mind," A.J. smiled.  "You can come with us."

 

     With Grace in-between them, the Simon brothers headed for the haunted house.  Two men dressed as executioners, in long black robes and wearing black hoods with nothing but holes cut out for their eyes, stood guard at the entrance.  Children giggled with anticipation and nervous fright while waiting in line for their turn to partake in the evening's horrors.   When Rick, A.J. and Grace were allowed in, Rick led the way with Grace in the middle and A.J. bringing up the rear. 

 

     Other than candles glowing in the bellies of pumpkins carved into howling monster faces and red spotlights mounted in the rafters, the barn was dark.  The Simon brothers and Grace could hear the laughter and screams of children and adults somewhere up ahead.  They followed the winding path of the people in front of them.  Sometimes they were forced to crawl through narrow, black tunnels while moans and wails emitted from a sound system.  Hands red with fake blood reached for them out of nowhere, grabbing onto a shirt or shoe and momentarily holding the 'victim' in place while he or she screamed and struggled to get free.  In other places the brothers and Grace ran for all they were worth from costumed ghouls whose job it was to chase all who entered.  They inched by a coffin with a closed lid. The three screeched in fright when the man lying inside heavily made up with white face powder, lifted the lid and rose to a seated position. 

 

     They passed by a man who appeared to be hanging from a gallows, and then one who appeared to have been beheaded by a guillotine.  A bloody rubber face sat on a dinner plate below the display. 

 

     Grace couldn't recall the last time she'd had so much fun.  When she and Rick found themselves momentarily alone in another cramped, dark tunnel with A.J. somewhere ahead of them, she willingly let Rick's lips meet hers.  The teens exchanged two more kisses before a hand reached out and grabbed Rick's shirt.  A deep voice moaned,  "There shall be none of that in the tunnel of the dead."

 

     The teens laughed self-consciously as they were forced to break apart and move on.  A.J. was waiting for them outside the barn. 

 

     "Hey, what happened to you two?"

 

     Rick reached out and tousled his brother's hair.  "Nothin', kid.  Nothin.’  We just got hung up for a second in that last tunnel."

 

     The trio strolled in the direction of Grace's booth.  Rick and A.J. untied the tarp while the girl walked around back.  Rick helped her raise the heavy cover and secure it in place.  She reached for her cash box and prizes in preparation of once again being open for business.

 

     Grace sat the green metal box out of reach of her customers and undid the latch.   Rick was getting ready to bid her a reluctant goodbye when her eyes widened and she cried,  "No!  Oh, no!  No!"

 

     "What is it, Grace?"  Rick asked.  "What's the matter?"

 

     "Oh, no!  No!  Please no!"  The girl turned to her new friends.  "It's empty!  My cash box is empty!  Someone stole my money!"

 

     Rick leaned over the wide ledge.  His eyes scanned the interior of the eight foot by twelve foot area.  "Are you sure?  Maybe it fell out somewhere."

 

     "No, no it didn't fall out!  It was right here when we left for supper!  Right here in this box!"

 

     Tears welled up in the girl's eyes.  "How could I have been so foolish?  Other than some money I've sent home to Daddy, it had almost everything in it I've earned for the whole year.  Almost two thousand dollars!  That's my family's income, Rick.  That's what we have to live on!  And now it's gone.  Oh why didn't I ask W.C. to lock it in his safe for me?  I should have.  I know I should have."

 

     "Grace, don't cry,"  Rick soothed.  "It wasn't your fault."

     Tears ran down Grace's face as she openly wept.  "What difference does it make whose fault it is?  It's gone!  All of it!  How am I ever gonna face my daddy?"

     Before Rick could offer any further words of comfort two boys about eight years old came running up to the booth.

 

     "Hey, lady, did you have some money stolen?"

     Rick looked down at the pair.  "Yeah, she did.  Whatta' you guys know about it?"

 

     Freckles stood out on the pale face of the red headed boy.  "We saw it!  We saw three guys...monsters, come outta there with money in their hands!"

 

     "Monsters?"  Rick questioned.  "Come on, kid--"

 

     "No, really we did!"  The boy indicated to his curly headed friend with a jerk of his thumb.  "Didn't we, Davey?  Didn't we see monsters?"

 

     "Yeah, we did!  It was Dracula, Frankenstein, and a big hairy werewolf.  I think he was the Wolfman."

 

     "Oh," Rick nodded with understanding,  "you mean guys dressed in costumes."

 

     "Uh huh," the freckled face boy adamantly shook his head.  "I mean real monsters!   I mean Frankenstein, Dracula, and the Wolfman.  They weren't dressed up at all!  That's who they really were!"

 

     While Rick puzzled over this, other nearby vendors returning from their supper breaks or trips to the bathroom were discovering missing cash as well.  A collective cry of despair went up until a portly man appeared on the scene.  He was as round as he was tall with a bulbous nose full of broken veins.  A straw boater was perched on his bald head, and a gold chain ran from the watch in the pocket of his black vest to wrap itself around one straining button. 

 

     The man waddled like an overweight duck as he approached his upset staff.  He spoke out of the side of his mouth as though he had a cigar perched in one corner.

 

     "What's the problem here?  What's the problem?"

 

     The vendors, including Grace, gathered around the man.  It took him a few minutes to discern the facts as they all talked at once in excitable chatter, sounding more like squawking chickens than people. 

 

     The man lifted his hat and scratched his shining skull.  "Well now, that is a shame.  It surely is a shame."

 

     A man whom Rick recognized as the one who ran the ring toss game shouted,  "This is exactly why I've told you we need some security guards who travel with us!"