Life's Golden Ticket (21 page)

I looked at the tunnel and asked, “Is there lighting in there? Will we be able to see?”

“You'll see what your heart has seen and needs to see,” he replied softly.

C
rank left his flashlight on for the first ten yards or so into the tunnel. The stone walls were low, narrow, and wet. I felt claustrophobic.

Crank turned off his flashlight. “Keep your eyes open.”

The tunnel was an eerie black. My senses sharpened, and I felt the damp, cool air cause the hair on my arms to stand up. I heard water running and trickling all around us. There was a musty mildew smell. I felt my own heart beating softly.

“Look!” Crank said.

I couldn't see anything.

“Look!” he said again.

Up ahead of us I saw a little glow of light appear and disappear, like a firefly. I squinted my eyes.

Another glow, this time closer.

Another, closer . . .

Then the tunnel walls started glowing a deep purple, just bright enough that I could see the tip of my nose. Our boat was picking up speed. The walls started changing colors: bluish black . . . purple again . . . fuchsia . . . pink. The colors started swirling all together.

Our boat picked up more speed. The waves of water being pushed aside by the boat made an almost deafening roar, and the glowing colors of the walls began to swirl into images:

My mom held me in her arms as an infant. Her voice suddenly boomed throughout the tunnel. “You're such a beautiful baby. . . . I love you, son.”

My dad held my hand at a park when I was small, and laughed when I picked up a turtle and put it back down. His voice echoed with my mother's. “Hey, my little turtle, did I ever tell you I love you?”

My grandpa hugged me and then lifted me over his head. “You're such a good boy! I love you!”

My grandma sat me atop a horse and smiled. “I'm so happy you're here. I love you!”

The boat lurched forward again.

The color of the tunnel walls blurred together faster.

I saw myself standing next to the car I owned in high school. My first girlfriend leaned in and kissed me. Her whisper exploded throughout the tunnel. “I love you.”

I leaned across a table and took the hands of my college sweetheart. “I love you too,” her voice blasted.

I embraced my best friend on graduation day. “We'll keep in touch—love you, man,” he said.

The boat surged ahead; the walls of the tunnel churned a deep purple, then pink, then blue.

Mary's face flashed on the walls; the colors churned faster.

She and I are in bed. “I love you,” she says, and snuggles against my chest.

We're at her parents' dinner table. She leans over. “Thank you for being such a good man. I love you.”

We're standing side by side at the sink, brushing our teeth. “I wuvvv uuuu,” she mumbles.

We're embracing after I proposed. “I love you,” she says, her face full of tears.

The boat plunged on ahead again, faster.

Water started flying off the bow, into my lap and onto my face. The walls turned a dark red. Images of Mary and me fighting started flashing on the walls . . . thousands of images. The sounds of hundreds of arguments blasted through the tunnel and deafened my ears.

“What's going on?!” I screamed to Crank.

He didn't reply.

I heard the sound of roaring water mix with the sounds of the arguments.

The images on the walls all bled together, and a new image appeared.

Mary is sitting at a table with a crystal ball on top of it. She is crying profusely.

“Should I leave him?” she asks.

Meg's face blurs into focus on the walls. “Yes,” she says. “He'll never change. He's a drifter.”

Mary bursts into tears.

“
No!
” I heard myself scream over the noise of the water and the echoes bouncing around the tunnel.

“Oh, no,” I heard Crank say. “It was
Meg.
She caused this.
She killed love!
”

“What?!” I yelled, my heart and mind racing.

“Meg told Mary to leave you! She derailed love. That's where it all went wrong.”

A wave of water crashed into our boat from the left, and I heard a loud pop.

“The tracks!” Crank screamed.

The rushing water lifted our boat and sent it sideways down another tunnel. Water flowed over our laps. The boat was sinking. The walls stopped glowing. It was pitch-black.

“What's happening?!” I screamed.

Our boat turned over with the flow of water, dumping us into the current. I was slammed into the walls of the tunnel by the force of the water. I fought to keep my head above the rushing water.

“Crank!”

No reply.

I heard the roar of the water getting louder ahead of us, then saw a light coming from around the corner. It looked like moonlight.

“It's the end!” Crank screamed from somewhere far behind me.

The current took me around a corner, and I could see a small opening into the night ahead of me.

The walls narrowed, and the current shot me out of the opening like water from a fire hydrant. I hit the ground, and the stream of water behind me sent me rolling down a hill of leaves and twigs and mud. I ended up in a small ravine next to a road, gasping for air and looking back in the direction I had come from. A forceful stream of water was shooting out a narrow cave entrance in the side of the mountain.

I heard Crank screaming from inside the cave, and suddenly he shot out of its mouth. The water pushed him down the hill with great force and washed him just past me and up onto the road.

I heard the sound of a truck.

“
No!
”

Crank stood over me lying in the ditch. His face was full of mud, but he smiled.

A horn blared.

“Now you know what happened to Mary,” Crank said.

The horn blared again, making me wince. When I opened my eyes, a semi plowed through Crank.

“
Nooo!
” I screamed.

The truck's brakes squealed and smoked. I pulled myself to my feet and hobbled quickly toward it.

The driver jumped out, wide-eyed.

“You hit him!” I screamed.

He stared at me in shock.

Rounding the front of the truck, I expected to see Crank lying mangled on the road. He wasn't there.

“Hit who, mister?” The driver looked at me as if I were a madman. “I didn't hit anyone,” he said. “I just saw you lying by the road and stopped to see if you were okay. Are you all right?

T
he truck driver turned the ignition key, and the engine roared to life.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked.

“Yes, I am. Thanks.”

He nodded and handed me the flashlight I had asked for. I flipped it on and backed away from the driver's-side door. He closed it, looked at me through the window, and gave me a salute good-bye. The engine growled, and the truck pulled away.

A
small stream of water was still pouring from the mouth of the cave in the mountainside, though it was nothing like the fire-hydrant force that had pushed Crank and me out into the night. I aimed the flashlight into the opening and started second-guessing myself.
No, you've got to go back.

I climbed inside the cave. The water was up to my knees, but the current was much weaker now. I slogged against it for about a hundred yards, then felt my foot hit something under water. I pointed the flashlight downward.

Tracks.

I swept the walls around me with the flashlight beam. This was where our boat had been knocked off the tracks by the surge of water.

I turned left and followed the tracks back the way we had come. The darkness of the tunnel made me feel claustrophobic again. I shined my flashlight onto the walls and reached up and touched them. They were just stone.

After walking and wading through the tunnel for what seemed an eternity, I saw moonlight shining ahead. I flicked off the flashlight and hurried onward.

I
climbed up, exhausted, onto the dock and sat for a few minutes, catching my breath; then I wrung the water out of my pant legs and shook the water out of my shoes. Glancing back toward the tunnel opening, I noticed that the pond water was layered with algae floating on its surface.

I started up the path back toward the grassy field. The path was full of leaves and twigs.

I marched up the path, expecting to see the lights from the poles around the field.

No lights.

I walked farther up the pathway, shoes squishing, and squinted out into the moonlit field. Harsh the Hypnotist's stage and tent were gone.
What the . . . ?

I followed the path all the way around the field until I reached the pine trees that had separated the field from the pirate ship ride. I looked to my left, trying to find the midway walk. It wasn't there. Then, as I walked around the trees, I froze.

The pirate ship was gone. The merry-go-round too . . . and the Cyclone.

The Hall of Mirrors, the bumper boats, the Big Tent, the livestock pavilion—gone.

I took a few steps forward and realized I wasn't on a walkway. I was standing on pine needles and twigs and leaves.

I peered into the open space where the park had been.

The bright moonlight showed that nothing remained.

Wait.
One thing . . .

I squinted harder, a few hundred yards ahead and to the left . . . the skeleton of the Ferris wheel.

A
s I drew near the Ferris wheel, I felt more and more confused. Had it all really happened?

I walked around the remains of the ride and looked up to it as if it had answers for me. Drawing closer, I touched the base of the ride, trying to convince myself that it was real.

“I'm happy Mary's family asked them to leave it here,” a voice said behind me.

I spun around, startled.

The wizard sat on a bench some twenty yards away—the same bench Henry and I had sat on earlier. A small boy sat next to him, playing with a bunch of toys.

Todd.

I stood for several moments, frozen in astonishment.

The wizard looked at me patiently; Todd didn't seem to notice me.

“What . . . happened . . . ? Where'd every—” I couldn't even speak a coherent sentence.

The wizard smiled at me. “It's hard to believe it all happened, isn't it?”

I nodded.

“Strike three,” the wizard said, grinning. “Time to go home.” He stood up, patted Todd on the head, and stepped toward me. “Do you still have those two envelopes?”

“Y-yes,” I stammered.

“Can I see them?”

I pulled the two envelopes from my back pocket. They were still wet from wading through the tunnel.

The wizard smiled at the sight of them. “And which one is Mary's?”

“The one with the blood on—” I looked at Todd, sitting behind the wizard on the bench, and stopped myself. Then I looked at the envelopes and noticed that most of the bloodstains on Mary's envelope had been washed off.

“This one,” I said, and handed him her envelope.

The wizard took the envelope and turned it over and over in his hands. “Ahh, to think that this envelope led to so much. To you coming here. To Henry's last lesson. To us discovering Meg as the mistake in the miracle of the park. So much because of one envelope.”

I couldn't take my eyes off the envelope as he continued to examine it. Finally, I asked with exhaustion, “What's in there? What's in the envelope?”

The wizard looked around the park, then back to me. “Just two very, very magical tickets. One is for you. One is for someone else.”

“One is for someone else,” I said to myself, remembering what Henry had told me. “Is that the invitation ticket?”

The wizard smiled. “That's right. It's a ticket for you to give to someone else you care about, so that they can gain admittance to the park. It's an invitation ticket for them to experience something similar to what you experienced.”

“And the other ticket?” I asked.

“The other is for you. It's also a ticket to gain admittance to a particular kind of experience. It's a special ticket, however, that, if you believe in it, will admit you into a whole other level of life experience. It's a ticket to unlimited possibilities. It's a ticket to a wonderful world you never even knew existed. It is a ticket that can be redeemed every single day of your life. It's a ticket, I believe, that we were all granted the day we were born.”

“What does the ticket say?” I asked.

The wizard nodded at the envelope in my hand. “Why don't you open it and find out?”

“Really?”

“Yes. Open it,” he said.

I looked at the envelope and felt an odd mixture of relief and excitement stir in my blood. I opened the envelope, pulled out one of the tickets, and read it. It was the invitation ticket.

“Your job is to be a miracle starter,” the wizard said. “Give that invitation to someone you care about, okay?”

“I will,” I said, and placed it back inside the envelope. Then I pulled out the other ticket. The golden ticket. I read the words on the ticket and then reread them. All the events of my experience flashed through my mind at a blinding pace: walking into the park; Betty and the contract; the Truth Booth; the wizard's speech; the Ferris wheel; my life's themes; the screaming carnies; Harsh the Hypnotist; Gus and the elephants; Willy and the shields and swords; the merry-go-round of happy memories; the Hall of Mirrors; Henry's ranching story; the bumper boats; Crank and the Cyclone; Meg and the crystal ball; the tightrope; Larry the Lion Tamer; Strong Man Mike; Henry's final lesson; the Tunnel of Love.

I glanced up at the wizard, feeling an indefinable sense of awe.

“It's your pass,” he said. “Your pass to possibility. I hope you use it.”

I looked at the golden ticket once more and slipped it carefully back in the envelope.

“Now,” the wizard said, handing me Mary's envelope, “what should we do with this?”

I held her envelope and turned it over in my hands as the wizard had done. I shook my head and snapped it in my hand. “I don't know.”

Todd looked up suddenly. He stared at the wizard's backside as if trying to figure out what had made the snapping sound. Then he slid off the park bench and walked around the wizard. Seeing the envelope in my hands, he asked, “What's that?”

I stared at him in surprise. “It's, uh . . . it's just an envelope, Todd.”

Todd looked at it and frowned. “How come you have it? Isn't that Mary's present?” He glanced at the wizard and pouted. “That's Mary's present! I gave it to her!”

My mouth fell open, and I looked to the wizard for help. He just looked back at me as if I should say something to Todd.

Before I could even think of anything, Todd snatched the envelope from my hands. “How come you have this? How come Mary didn't open her present? Didn't she like it?”

I looked to the wizard, horrified that I might say the wrong thing.

“Tell him the truth,” the wizard whispered.

I stared at him as if to say,
Are you serious?

He nodded and motioned for me to go ahead and talk to Todd.

Todd was clearly upset. “Todd,” I said, “I'm sure Mary liked your present. She just . . . didn't have a chance to open it.”

“Why not?” he asked.

“Because, well . . .” I glanced back to the wizard for guidance.

“The truth,” he whispered.

I shook my head. “Well, Todd, your sister Mary didn't get to open the envelope because . . . well, she had an accident and . . . she had to go to the hospital.”

Todd looked up, confused. “How come she didn't open it after the hospital?”

I felt my heart breaking. “Because, Todd, your . . . your sister never left the hospital.”

He stared at me, even more confused. “Yes, she did,” he said, pointing. “She's right over there.”

I returned his look of confusion, then looked to where he was pointing.

In the bright moonlight I saw the flagpole, six dilapidated ticket booths, and the entrance archway to the park. I didn't see anything else.

I cast a skeptical glance back to the wizard.

“Look farther,” he said.

Turning, I looked out past the entrance archway. There was my truck, still parked out in the field. Then I saw Jim and Linda's van parked next to it. Then I saw a frail figure standing on crutches next to the passenger side of the van.

I squeezed my eyes shut hard, then opened them again.

It was Mary.

I looked at the wizard; he was grinning. He leaned down to her little brother and said, “Todd, why don't we let him go give Mary back her present?”

Todd looked at the wizard and said, “Okay.” Then he turned to me and said, “Just make sure she opens it this time, okay, mister? Promise?”

I nodded, and he handed me the envelope. Then, smiling contentedly, he went back to the bench to play with his toys.

The wizard stood up and grinned at me even bigger. “It's time for you to go. Remember your experiences here. Remember your promises. And remember, you always have a free pass to possibility with that golden ticket. Now go.”

I stared back over to Mary, disbelieving my eyes.
It must be another vision.

“But it's not possible,” I said to the wizard. “She was dying in the hospital a few hours ago.”

“A few hours can be a long time,” the wizard said cryptically, “and miracles have a time of their own.” He nodded in Mary's direction and smiled. “Now go to her.”