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Authors: Heidi Champa

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Next Stop Funnel Cake

BOOK: Next Stop Funnel Cake
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NEXT STOP: FUNNEL CAKE
by
HEIDI CHAMPA
Amber Quill Press, LLC
http://www.amberquill.com
ntspflcec

102213000323

Next Stop: Funnel Cake
An Amber Quill Press Book
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author's imagination, or have been used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
Amber Quill Press, LLC
http://www.AmberQuill.com
http://www.AmberHeat.com
http://www.AmberAllure.com
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.
Copyright © 2013 by Heidi Champa
ISBN 978-1-61124-501-1
Cover Art © 2013 Trace Edward Zaber
Published in the United States of America
Also by Heidi Champa
Against Type
All Expenses Paid
Charitable Giving
Dog Days Of Summer
Down Memory Lane
Go Coastal
Left Of The Dial
Losing And Gaining
Number One Pick
One More Summer
Picking Up The Spare
The Right Wrong Turn
Roadside Assistance
Summer Of Love
White Out
Dedication
To funnel cake lovers everywhere
Chapter 1

"Alright, everyone. Now let's go out there and make this the best season Downy's has ever had."

The troops looked less than rallied after my uncle's hackneyed speech, the same one he'd given for the last few years. It was starting to get stale. Especially for those of us who'd heard it a million times before. Working at Downy's Amusement Park had started out as a summer job in high school. And, here I was, twenty-five years old and still working there. It would have been sad, if the pay was better. As it was, it was downright depressing. I was about to follow everyone else out the door, when my uncle stopped me.

"Travis, hold up for a second. I need to talk to you."

My Uncle Nick was a good guy. A bit corny for my taste, but he was in my life more than my parents were, and he'd taken me in when I needed a place to go. I was managing to hang onto my own place with my buddy Clayton, but I knew if I fell, Nick would be there to catch me.

"Hey, man, I'm going to need you to drive the train for a while."

"What? Why? Can't one of the kids do it?"

"I'm a little thin at the moment, and I know I can count on you not to overshoot the stations and to look after the guests. Last time I trusted one of the part-timers, a kid got his arm caught in one of the safety gates and I nearly got sued. I need someone I can trust. And, that's you, my boy."

"Please don't make me do this, Nick. I promise I won't bitch about balancing the books anymore. Or ordering corndogs. I swear, just please don't make me put on those ridiculous overalls. I can't do it."

"Sorry, man. I have no choice. Oh, wait. Yes, I do. I meant you have no choice."

He smiled as he picked up the phone and motioned me out of the office.

"Please, I'm begging you. Don't do this to me. What if someone I know sees me?"

He set the phone down for a moment and chuckled.

"You do what you always do. Say 'Welcome to Downy's' and you smile. Got it? Now, get those pants on and go drive that train."

I sighed as I walked to the supply closet, where the train conductor's uniform hung on the back of the door.

"Oh, and, Travis, don't forget, you need to announce all the stations. So, you'll have to bust out your chipper voice."

"I don't have a chipper voice."

"Then find one. Quick."

* * * *

I rounded the corner, and the chorus of laughter started immediately. And, there was Clayton, right in front, leading the charge.

"Dude, what in the hell are you wearing that for?"

"Because my uncle hates me. I'm on train duty until further notice."

"What did you do to piss him off?"

"Nothing. He doesn't trust any of you dumbasses to do it, so I have to," I said, loud enough for everyone to hear me.

The peanut gallery behind him kept on chuckling for a while before they went back to their own conversations. Clayton gave my engineer's cap a turn and suppressed another giggle.

"Well, I have to say it suits you. You look exactly like a guy who drives a train at a cut-rate amusement park."

"Good, because that was the look I was going for."

"You better get going. The park opens in a few minutes. You wouldn't want to keep the public waiting."

"Right."

I took a few steps away before Clayton called after me, "Oh, and Travis, remember the hose works best for vomit. That sawdust stuff gets stuck in the floor of the train."

"Thanks for the tip, man."

"You're welcome, buddy."

I sighed when I sat in the conductor's seat of the rickety train that trundled the guests around the park. It was painted a million colors and was badly in need of repair, but it was extremely popular. It was free to ride, and it saved you the trouble of walking your kids all the way across the park to that attraction they kept talking about. We workers hated the train, but Nick loved it more than almost anything else.

I sat at the first stop, waiting as everyone piled on board, until the kid controlling the numbers gave me the thumbs up that we were at capacity. I glanced up to the PA system and sighed again. Chipper voice. That's what Nick wanted. I wasn't sure exactly what that meant, but I did my best.

"Alright, everyone, welcome to Downy's Amusement Park and the Downy Funtime Express. We ask that everyone belt themselves in and please don't reach outside the cars while the train is moving. The train stops several times throughout the park and runs all day."

I moved to the next item on the script pinned to the front of my space. It instructed me to blow the whistle, which, when I did, caused a roar of laughter and applause to go through the train.

"Here we go! Next stop, the Enchanted Forest and the Haunted Manor."

I released the brake, and the train started slowly clacking along the track. The sounds of joy behind me should have made me smile, but instead all I could think about was the comfort of the air-conditioned office I gave up to make Nick happy. He was lucky I was a loyal employee. Who had nowhere else to go.

* * * *

When my train shift was over, I headed back to the office, but got waylaid by Clayton, who was at his usual post, the ring toss game.

"Hey, man, how was the wonderful Funtime Express?"

"Not nearly as much fun as is sounds."

"Shocking. At least you survived."

"Barely. There were two kids who threw up, one that bit another kid and two mothers who were fighting so loudly, I had to throw them off. It was quite a day."

"And now you get to help Nick with payroll."

I groaned as I thought about the paperwork awaiting me that afternoon. Nick had managed to secure a non-idiot replacement for me so I wouldn't have to drive the train all day. It also conveniently freed me up to do the dirty work he hated.

"Beers after work?"

"Sounds like a plan, Clay."

"Cool. That means you're picking some up on the way home, right? Because we're out, and I'm broke."

"Should've known. I'll see what I can do."

"Excellent. Well, I have to go. Duty calls."

I walked away as a family of six approached, ready to win a giant stuffed bear. When I got to the office, Nick was hanging up the phone.

"So, how was the train? Did you have fun?"

"Not even a little. Oh, and I hate you."

"That's the spirit. I put the latest invoices on your desk. We need to pay them today. You can manage that before you leave, right?"

"Sure. Why not? It's not like I have a life to get home to or anything."

"I know. It's one of the things I love about you, Travis."

Before I could reply, the phone rang, then he was engrossed in conversation. I sighed for what felt like the millionth time that day and picked up the first paper from the pile. From outside the door, I heard the roar of the small rollercoaster and the screams of the people onboard. God, I hated the sounds of other people's happiness.

Chapter 2

"Travis? Travis Webber? Is that you?"

It was the moment I'd dreaded since I first started working on the stupid train. Sure, I'd seen people I knew before when I walked around the park, but I'd always managed to avoid them and slip by unnoticed. That was the benefit of working mostly behind the scenes and hiding in the office while the fun went on around me. I saw plenty of old classmates and their families, but luckily they'd never seen me. It's not that I was ashamed of what I did. It was easier to avoid having to explain why I was working at an amusement park instead of in an office somewhere, or at the very least taking college classes online.

But, ever since my uncle decided that in addition to all my other duties, he needed me to become the conductor on the silly train that took people all around the park, I'd been exposed to the general public. There was no hiding from the potential of an embarrassing encounter with someone who knew me and wanted to chat. There's nothing like the prospect of talking to an old classmate or boyfriend while wearing overalls and an engineer's cap to put your life into perspective. Those scenarios would have been mortifying enough, but I couldn't even manage to have that kind of luck. In my case, my encounter with a blast from my past was way, way worse.

"Yeah, it's me. It's nice to see you Mr. Baxter."

"I can't believe it's you. This is the last place I expected to see you, Travis."

There he was--my old guidance counselor, Mr. Baxter. He stood right in front of me...a hot guy next to him and two kids with cotton candy in their sticky hands rounded out the picture. The Downy's Funtime Express had reached its last stop and I had nowhere to hide when he confronted me. It had been seven years since I'd seen him at my high school graduation, but he still looked good. I'd had a crush on him from the first time I'd been forced to go to his office to discuss my "future" after a bad performance on my PSAT test.

It was also around the same time my grades had taken a dip. My parents were splitting up and the stress had taken its toll. Mr. Baxter was the first authority figure I felt I could open up to, so I did. He'd made me feel like everything was going to be okay and, ultimately, it was. For a while, anyway. He was also the only one at my school who believed I could be anything I wanted to be. Too bad I'd only managed to find a menial job and didn't fulfill all that promise he saw in me. It made our chance meeting all the more painful.

"My uncle owns the place, so..."

There was no end to that sentence, so I didn't provide one. Mr. Baxter looked me up and down, taking in my conductor's gear, and smiled. His companion and the kids took a few steps away, and I hoped Mr. Baxter would follow them, but no such luck. He took another step closer to me and kept talking.

"Well, I must say, I saw your future turning out a little, uh, differently. What happened to State? Last I heard you were in college. And doing quite well."

I shifted my weight as the train started to fill up again, anxious kids and families waiting to be whisked around the park at extremely slow speeds. It was tough to look him in the eye, but I managed for a moment as I started to try to explain with as little detail as possible.

"I was at State, but that didn't really work out. I had to leave school for a little while. I'd like to go back, and I plan to, you know, when I save up enough money. Right now, though, I gotta pay the bills. You know what I mean, Mr. Baxter?"

"Please, it's been years. You can call me Andrew now."

"Okay, Andrew."

"Why did you have to leave school, Travis? Was it a grade issue? Because you had really turned things around by senior year."

"Um, well...not exactly."

I looked at the guy who was with Mr. Baxter and noticed him glancing at his watch while trying to keep a smile on his face. The kids were also chomping at the bit to leave, running in a circle around the guy, trying to get him to leave Mr. Baxter behind and take them to the next ride. Not that I blamed them. If I could have been running to the merry-go-round or the Tilt-A-Whirl, I would have. The guy, whose khakis were so well pressed my mother would have been impressed, cleared his throat to get Mr. Baxter's attention. I was thankful it seemed to work, as I had no desire to answer his question. He shoved his hands in his pockets and gave me a weak smile.

"Well, we should go. The kids can't really stand still this long. It was good to see you, Travis."

"You too, Mr. Baxter."

He turned to go, but only got a step away before he turned back.

"We should catch up some time, Travis. I'd love to hear what you've been up to these last few years. How many has it been?"

I knew he was being nice, so I tried my best not to sound too condescending when I spoke.

BOOK: Next Stop Funnel Cake
9.34Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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