Don't Sweat the Small Stuff (8 page)

She nodded. “I’m a big girl, James. I can stay by myself.”

He smiled. “You know, I wasn’t worried about your protection.”

“Oh?”

“I’m worried about mine.”

They didn’t shut it down. In fact, other than the buzz of carnies over their cardboard cups of hot steaming coffee, the next morning seemed uneventful. Of course I’ve never seen a carnival this early in the morning, but everything seemed low-key, aside from the yellow crime-scene tape in back of the air rifle trailer.

James was outside Angie’s trailer, drinking
his
coffee from a china cup. There was a smug, self-satisfied look on his face.

“She made me breakfast, amigo, and some coffee. Pretty sweet. Want me to get some for you?”

I shook my head. My stomach was already in knots.

“From what you told me last night, this should be a piece of cake. Three buttons and that’s all we have to know. Am I right?”

I nodded. “Listen, James, this Bo and Charlie, they seem to take a lot of pride in operating the ride, so don’t make light of it, okay? I don’t think we need to piss these two guys off.”

“Hey, you know me.”

That was the problem. I did.

We walked toward the DT, James sipping his steaming beverage. “So, we’re now on a bonus, plus our guarantee? He keeps
throwing money at this thing. Boy, Moe really wants us to solve this doesn’t he?”

I’d explained everything until three in the morning when he’d finally gone back into Angie’s trailer and I’d stumbled back to the Airstream.

“This guy was in a rush to make sure we didn’t bolt, James. It’s the only explanation I can come up with. I mean, he was practically begging me not to leave. It’s like I told you last night, I don’t understand why. It doesn’t make any sense. We’re not the team I’d choose for this project, believe me.”

“Skip, it’s good money. First day we get licensed we get a job. Why can’t you just accept that?”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Always the optimist. I guess we balanced each other pretty well that way.

“So, let’s make a plan, do our job, and make the money. It’s not that difficult, Pancho.”

“I called Jody this morning.”

“Jody?”

“Yeah. Jody Stacy. Our private investigator friend. You remember. We supposedly used to work for him?”

“Oh. That Jody.”

I’d actually gotten him out of bed at about seven a.m. He’d been a little groggy, something about surveillance until the early morning hours on some cheating wife. No murdered carnies, just a wayward spouse.

“You woke him up this early?” Early to James was any time before ten a.m.

“Jody is a pro, James. He’s been doing this for how many years now? And he’s the reason you and I are in the P.I. business. Am I right?”

James glanced at me as we marched toward the Dragon. “You’re right, amigo. He’s a pro and he’s the reason. So what?”

“Do you know what he charges?”

“For a job like this? I have no idea.”

“A hundred twenty-five dollars an hour, James. And if you buy a block of ten hours he’ll bring it down to a thousand. A hundred dollars an hour. You can get a pro, someone who actually knows what they’re doing, for a thousand.”

“And your point is?” We were approaching the Dragon Tail and I saw Bo and Charlie, cigarettes dangling from their mouths, rags in hand wiping the morning’s dew off the seats, dropping ashes back onto the seats.

“James, pay attention.” He knew what the point was. He just didn’t want to admit it. “If you can get a pro to come in here and investigate this case for a thousand, why would anyone pay the two of us two thousand plus a bonus?”

The two operators saw us at the same time, and I caught the hostile frowns on their faces.

Stepping up to the guardrail, I waved. “Bo, Charlie, this is James.”

They glared at us.

“Hey, Bo, like I told you yesterday, we’re just here to learn a little bit about the rides and the show. We’re not here to take any full-time jobs.”

“Uh-huh.” Charlie took the cigarette out of his mouth and blew a stream of smoke in my direction. His physical resemblance to James was uncanny. “You actually going to operate the ride?” He glanced back at the evil looking Dragon, green and yellow fiberglass and steel, the tail poised to toss riders around like a hurricane.

“We’re just doing it for a couple of hours.”

Bo raised his eyebrows. “That’s all?”

“That’s all.”

“But you are gonna learn all there is to operate it. Operate it at any time, right? So you could run the DT full time?”

“Guys, we are really excited to be here. To see how two professionals
do this.” James raised his cup of coffee as if giving a toast. “Moe said you were his top ride guys and we want to learn from the best.”

Charlie stroked his chin. Now that James was standing right next to him the resemblance wasn’t quite as—

“Moe said that? That we were his top ride guys? Me and Bo?” He glanced at his cohort.

“He did.”

“Well, I would hope so. After all—” Charlie glanced at his partner, a sly smile on his face.

“Moe should say that,” Bo said.

“Well, boys,” Charlie glanced at his watch, “come on in here and let’s get started. It’s eight o’clock and our ride starts at ten so we’ve only got a couple of hours to show you two the ropes. Let’s go. Time’s a wastin’.”

And just like that, James was Charlie’s new best friend. Bo, standing by the controls, a scowl still on his face, didn’t seem quite so sure.

By five after eight we’d pretty much mastered the ride. Safety bar the rider, click the lock, push the green button. Two minutes later, push the red button, unclick the lock, unsafety bar the rider. And remember that the small metal switch activated the smoke from the dragon’s mouth. Talk about complicated.

“You all should probably take a spin so you’ll know what it feels like. Charlie and I had to ride it a couple of times.”

James gave Bo a weak smile. “Nah, that’s not part of the deal. All we need to do is operate it for a couple rides.”

“No, you need to ride the tail, Jim.” Bo wasn’t making any points. James hated the name
Jim.

“Don’t need to.”

“Well, Jim, if you’re gonna run this ride, then you’re gonna ride the tail. Let me call Moe in on this.”

“You do that.”

He didn’t need to. I could see the head guy walking toward us, his impeccable tan jacket and slacks set off by a pair of brown tooled cowboy boots.

“Hey boys, have Bo and Charlie got you up to speed?”

“We’re up to speed, Moe.” James smiled at him, reaching out and shaking his hand. “And now, Skip and I are going to get some breakfast before the first riders get here.”

“They don’t seem keen on riding the tail, Moe.” Bo frowned, a concerned look on his lean face.

“Oh?” Bradley looked accusingly at James.

“I don’t think that’s necessary, Moe. We learned how to operate the ride, and I don’t see any reason—”

“It is necessary, James. Skip. I want you to have a feel for what this is all about.”

I stared once again at the monstrosity that was the DT. Bo flipped the switch that caused smoke to belch from the monster’s mouth, and for just a moment, I felt that the creature’s red glowing eyes were watching me.

“Moe—”

“No, James, you’ve got to ride it once. It’s part of the job.”

James bit his upper lip, I chewed on my lower one. This was not something either of us had anticipated.

“Well, I’m happier than a tornado in a trailer park.” James stared at me, daring me to remember that one.

It took a moment to digest the quote. Mater, from the Pixar animated movie
Cars.
And that was probably what we were about to experience. The feeling of being right in the middle of a tornado in a trailer park.

Bo flashed a bold smile, leering at me. “We’ll just give you half a ride. How’s that? Just half a regular spin on the tail.”

A regular ride was two minutes. Have you ever counted slowly to 120? It’s longer than forever. And counting slowly to
sixty takes forever. Especially when you’ve seen the tail do its thing.

“You boys enjoy the ride. It will open your eyes.” Moe gave us an engaging smile. “Me, I’m having breakfast with my sisters at Denny’s. It’s a toss-up as to who will endure more torture. You or me.” He winked at us and walked away.

“We’re screwed, Skip.” James stared at the cars on the tail.

“We are, James. We really are.”

James motioned to me to go first and I did. I walked back to a car about midway on the tail and stepped in. Each car, or pod, held three people comfortably on the cold, hard plastic seats. Four people if you squeezed them in. I saw our potential number three walking toward us the second I sat down.

“James. You two are going for a ride? You didn’t tell me.” Angie Clark had a surprised smile on her face as she headed toward us, the early morning sunlight bouncing off her long golden hair.

“It’s a test run for us.” It was obvious he didn’t want the company. “Just, you know …” he was stumbling, looking for a reason not to invite her, “… for the two of us.” James avoided looking at her.

She glanced at me and put her hands out, palms up in supplication. “Hey,” shifting her gaze to Mr. Romance, “you promised me a ride. Remember?” She stopped short of the car, a little pout on her full lips. She wore a pair of shorts and a halter top that showed off her figure. Very well I might add.

Bo gave James a slight push, and he moved in beside me.

“Bo, can I ride?”

The carnie leered at her. “Anything for you, Miss Clark.”

She walked back to the car and gazed down at my roommate. “I’m going for a ride, James. I promise I won’t be a problem.” She scooted in, and I inhaled the faint odor of her perfume. I could tell James was far from happy.

Pulling down the safety bar, Bo clicked the lock and walked away as James grasped the thick metal rod, his knuckles almost white.

From seemingly nowhere, the sound of Poison jump-started the speakers, the voices shouting out
Ain’t nothin’ but a good time.

“Don’t be too stiff, James.” She raised her voice to be heard over the music, rubbing her leg against his, giving him a sly smile. “These rides have a tremendous g-force.” She was shouting. “If you’re too stiff, you could injure your neck or spine. Or something else.”

James usually had a snappy comeback for a soft-ball comment like this. But he swallowed hard and had no response at all. And neither did I. We both just kept our eyes straight ahead as we felt the tail start to rise in the air, and from the corner of my eye I saw Angie put her hand over his.

“This is going to be fun. Just relax.”

Fun and relax were words I was not familiar with at the moment.

I spent my money on women and wine
—the music was pounding in my head.

Higher and higher. I’d closed my eyes, but when I squinted I could see Pugh’s little zoo and the animals feeding from two troughs. Winston and Linda were down there, puttering around the fenced-in area. The top of the rifle booth and Kevin Cross’s trailer were off to the right, and in the distance I could see
Bradley’s American Eagle trailer and our Airstream. I shuddered, thinking of Cross’s dead body on the toilet. Never mind he was a carnie, it was not the way I’d want to end my life.

A black-and-white cruiser slowly circled the show grounds, and I wondered if they were looking for clues.

Higher, the tail gently rose, and if you didn’t look straight down, it wasn’t too bad. I could gaze out and see the strip of shops, The Bauble Brigade, Baby Bonanza, and Fabulous Fabric. I secretly wished we were all three in Harry’s Hideaway, having an early morning boilermaker.

Beyond the strip I could see the road. Slowly, steadily we rose in the air, and I glanced off to the left and saw the Dragon’s head and the beady red eyes. Steam was pouring from his nose and mouth and I laughed out loud.

“James, look.”

But his eyes were shut tight. Angie was squeezing his hand and there was a ruddy glow on her face. A thrill junkie.

I’d almost forgotten about the snap, the whip to the left. I was lost in the lofty view of the land below. That dusty, dirty ground that sprawled beneath us and the people walking below as they went about their set-up chores for the amusement rides. And then the cart lurched, along with my stomach. I squeezed hard enough to crush the safety bar, accidentally squeezing James’s hand.

“Holly shit.” He grunted out the words, and Angie screamed, that excited girly kind of scream that you hear in the movies when a girl is feigning fear or terror. And the tail whipped to the left.

Ain’t nothin’, but a good time
.

I couldn’t breathe. I tried and found myself choking, my throat closed tight. The small car jerked again, a short, abrupt move, and my back felt like it would snap. We flew at lightning speed, the tail sailing through the air. I knew the rest of the routine.
Straightening out, the tail curled and suddenly whipped to the right, moving at an incredible velocity and I closed my eyes, summoning up every childhood prayer I could remember. We were flying, shooting out above the grounds below, a hot early morning breeze stinging my face and I thought for sure the pod was going to spin off the tail and we’d be hurled into deep outer space.

Angie screamed again, her silky blonde hair flying back against the seat. James muttered, “Holy Shit,” and I still hadn’t drawn a breath. Couldn’t. Daring to open my eyes, I saw Bo and Charlie, sitting on a small bench far below, smoking cigarettes and looking up at us. I swear they were smiling, a devilish wide-eyed glare on their pasty faces.

“It’s done, right?” James coughed out the words. “Half a ride? Please. Say it’s done.” He wasn’t opening his eyes, but he was ready for this torture to end. I had a fleeting thought that he was sorry he’d ever taken this job. I knew I was. Every time I get involved with one of James Lessor’s projects—

Opening my mouth, my chest aching from lack of oxygen, I finally caught some air. “Should be.” Oh, God, let it be over. I promised right then and there I’d stop drinking, watching porn on the Internet with James, and I’d find a church. Somewhere. Whatever it took.