Hey! This is a standalone story, but it is also a Rashomon to Curly Fries and Unicorns. It was suggested by
The carousel was just off level,which didn’t matter all that much, made the green swan list a little to the left as it swung…north?
Enrique thought it was north because he knew they weren’t going any farther north.
He could tighten the swan when the carnival closed for the night.
If he remembered.
Fredi was having fun, smiling that two missing tooth smile Enrique loved. Enrique wanted to close down the carousel early and get over to the salt and pepper shaker, ride it with Fredi.
Fredi was afraid of the crazy, pendulous ride and Enrique wasn’t going to let that fear fester. They were gonna conquer it.
Most of the young kids, the carousel riders, would be gone before closing time anyway.
Wickerner would be counting money, probably wouldn’t give a fuck.
Dust kicked up in a strange swirl.
A blonde in stilettos and urban camo pants ripped at the knee had lost her balance, a nearly identical friend caught her.
Enrique had seen them before, subtly passing out free passes to the strip club down the road.
He couldn’t go.
Fredi was with him. He wouldn’t sneak out of the trailer at night even if this was a nice part of Indiana…or was it Michigan?
“Ique!” a maintenance worker called out and Enrique raised his fist in greeting.
Not a lot of pukers in this town.
Maybe the church throwing the carnival frowned on alcohol. They had a beer tent though.
Wickerner wouldn’t book churches that didn’t allow beer tents.
Enrique turned and looked at the carousel, The ride was winding down.
Fredi, plump like his mama, plumper yet from all the elephant ears this summer, smiling, riding the unicorn.
Dude staring at the carousel.
They caught a pervert in Baton Rouge, beat him down.
This guy looked to Enrique like a loser who tried to mask the smell of booze with too much cologne, like his brother-in-law in Galveston. And not just his brother-in-law. There was a whole bunch of guys, tan not to look good but because they passed out in lawn chairs, no body fat because their liver needed fuel to burn the vodka.
A few guys like that were on Wickerner’s crew, setting up and tearing down rides.
That why the carousel wasn’t level, that’s why–
Did the guy just say something to Fredi?
Enrique’s head snapped.
He understood the words. Not pervert words, but nothing he should be saying to someone else’s kid. Why the fuck does he want Fredi off the unicorn?
Enrique stepped toward the guy.
A little girl with a runny nose scurried away.
Enrique grabbed the guy, wanted to slam him into the fence surrounding the carousel. Stopped himself. Wickerner would fire him for sure.
The guy’s eyes were scared.
Terrified.
Unfocused.
He wasn’t just scared of Enrique.
“I’m just trying–” the guy said.
Enrique wanted the guy to be scared of him, but the guy just seemed…scared.
Enrique thought he saw Blayetz in the distance.
Blayetz could manhandle people and keep his job as head of security. Ride jockeys could not.
Enrique let the guy go.
He didn’t smell booze on the guy’s breath.
Weird.
The guy didn’t leave.
He got in line for the carousel.
Weirder.
Enrique would let him on the damn ride.
If he said another word to Fredi, Enrique would tell Blayetz to beat him down.
Enrique glared at the guy.
He didn’t look like a pervert, but he looked like he was lost in a galaxy he didn’t want to be in, and Enrique didn’t think the guy was gonna do himself any favors getting on a carousel.
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I’m thrilled that you’re here and I value your continued support. Approaching 4 years publishing daily on Substack and the financial goals for an undertaking like this have fallen woefully short. Most people would have quit. I have not. If you’d like to help me make it to 1000 consecutive stories ( this is 884 ) , my Venmo is James-Graham-80.
Thank you.
I liked this mirror image, J.
And that no one was hurt more than they already were.
Always a strange vibe around the carousel...