So Over My Head (9 page)
Ten minutes later, I’m on the top bleacher talking to a little boy who doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry at my hair. “Here you go. Have fun!” I hand him a sucker and make my way down to the bottom row.
My eyes scan the arena, looking for anything unusual or suspicious. Two midgets and a pig in a tutu walk by. I probably need to narrow my definition of suspicious.
“Nice outfit.”
I follow the voice to the ground. Luke.
“Though the makeup’s a little heavy.”
“What do you want, Luke? Or let me guess—you’re here to work on
my
story and just stopped by to gloat.” I stomp my giant foot. It tangles with the other shoe, and suddenly I’m airborne, headed for the ground. “Whoa!”
Luke steps up, and I land with an
oomph
in his arms.
Face redder than my bulbous nose, I pull my eyes up to his. “Um . . . thanks.”
His arms stay locked around me as he lifts me off the bleacher and sets me on the ground.
“Glad to help.”
“Hey, hands off the clown.” Stewart Fritz stops, just as his dad takes the center of the ring. “You’re needed in the sound booth.” His eyes leer.
“Me?” I ask.
“No.” He jerks his head toward Luke. “This guy.” His eyes linger over my form for a moment too long before he walks away, snapping out commands into his headset.
“So I guess he’s kind of like the producer?” Luke asks.
“Um . . . you’re working here? Since when?”
“Same day you got hired.” He shrugs. “I needed something else to fill my time.”
“You work for the local paper.”
“And now I work here.”
I smell a rat. “Yeah, well, just stay out of my way.”
He laughs. “Isn’t that what the police are always saying to you?”
T
he work of a circus clown is never done.
During intermission, I rush backstage, careful not to trip over my giant shoes. Ruthie and I grab water bottles for those just finishing and pass out props for the next round of performers.
“Serena, I think your hair would look really good with a few strips of magenta,” Ruthie tells the lady who does horse tricks. “Maybe tease it up another six inches or so. I have some hairspray that will shellac that stuff right in place. It’s like cement.”
I brush off her partner’s jacket with a lint roller. “So, um . . . any-one heard from Alfredo?”
The man’s laugh is a mean staccato. “Yeah, right. Like we’d want to talk to the guy who killed Betty.”
“But what if he didn’t do it?”
He waves my idea away. “Look kid, his prints are on the sword.”
“The forensic results came back?”
“Yeah,” he smirks. “Alfredo may be the master of magic, but even he can’t make scientific evidence disappear.”
“Besides,” Serena says with a southern twang. “Alfredo was a dirty crook. He didn’t really love Betty. Everyone saw right through him.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
Serena runs her hand over her tight updo. “Betty and Alfredo were the weirdest couple ever. And I’m telling you . . . something wasn’t right from the beginning. At first he didn’t even act like he liked her. It was like he was forcing himself to date her.”
“Life does get lonely out here on the road. And it’s not as if there’re lots of options for chicks.”
Serena smacks her partner. “You got something to say to me?”
He shakes his head. “Nah.”
“Maybe you wouldn’t get lonely if you’d clean up your messes in the trailer. If I didn’t have to follow you around like I was your mother instead of your wife, then I’d have more time to spend with you. Eh?”
“But back to Alfredo and Betty—”
“Ladies and gentlemen!” Red Fritz announces the second half, and Serena and her husband run toward the center of the ring, still arguing over housekeeping.
I glance at Ruthie. “That was strange.”
“Nah. Men are slobs. Nothing weird about that. She shouldn’t have to put up with socks and tightie-whities on the floor.”
“I meant what Serena said about Alfredo not acting as if he liked Betty.”
“Not everyone is as kind and sensitive as my Budge.”
I think of my stepbrother, who just this morning burped the entire
Star Wars
theme song at the breakfast table. “Yeah, he’s just a dream of perfection.”
“Did you ever get the flashlight you lost in Alfredo’s trailer?”
I inwardly cringe. “No. Someone’s always in there.” But I’ve got to get it. Soon.
“Yeah, well, don’t cut me out of that. I have a few ideas on how to get inside.” Ruthie’s eyes glisten. “It involves rope, WD-40, and some mace.”
“You forgot one thing in that list.”
“What?”
“A warrant for our arrest.”
Fifteen minutes later, I’m working the crowd and passing out a few balloons as Cherry and two others take to the trapeze. Just looking up there makes my stomach flop.
Feeling prickles of awareness, I look across the arena and find Luke watching me from the control booth. And Stewart Fritz. The two are talking, but both have their eyes trained my direction. It’s not every day a girl gets the attention of two boys. But in this case, one makes me so mad I want to throw him in the middle of one of Jake’s wrestling matches. And the other . . . makes me want to douse myself in hand sanitizer.
Red Fritz announces his niece and the trapeze act, and a hush falls over the crowd as they watch them fly through the air.
In his usual garb of top hat and tuxedo jacket, Red walks off the floor and over to the control booth, his large stomach leading the way. He pulls his son aside and whispers near his ear. Luke keeps his eyes on the trapeze, adjusting the lighting and sound controls, but I know that boy. And I know he’s doing everything he can to listen in to the father and son’s conversation.
Red walks away, exiting out the main entrance. I’m passing out my last balloon when I see Stewart leave the same way.
“Hey, I want my balloon in the shape of a dog.”
I pull my eyes from the door and down to the kid below me. “Sorry. That’s all I have.”
“I want a dog!” He yells.
I yank his balloon back, give it a few twists and hand it to him again. “There you go.” I have to follow Stewart and his dad. Something could be up.
“No!” The kid shrieks. “That looks like a four-leaf clover!”
“Well, then give it to your mom.” I pat the little brat on the head. “She obviously needs the luck.”
I maneuver my way back down the bleachers. Easier said than done in a wig that keeps drooping in my eyes and shoes that could knock out an entire row.
The carnival rides flash their rainbow of lights as I step outside. Screams pierce the night, as one of the roller coasters swings every-one upside down.
“Two tries for a dollar!” A guy calls out from the basketball toss.
Following a distance behind Stewart, I pass a row of food trailers, and inhale the smell of hamburgers.
He hangs a left, disappearing for a moment from view. I keep a nonchalant look about me, as if I’m just taking in the sights and sounds of the carnival. Like it’s every day I walk about the carnival grounds in full clown makeup.
When I hear Red Fritz’s voice, I stop. The two guys stand talking by the Ferris wheel.
“What do you want?” Red asks. “I gotta close out the show.”
I take a step back and hide behind the edge of another game trailer.
“Did you talk to Alfredo?”
“Yeah, Stewart, I talked to him. Do you think I can’t handle him? I’ve got his situation under control. Has anyone seen Betty’s stupid dog?”
“She’s long gone.”
“Well, if you find her, put her to work, then take care of her— permanently. Son, you do your job right, and this could all be yours.” Red’s voice is barely audible over the rising carnival noise.
I lean out a bit to get a better view.
Stewart laughs, a menacing sound that lifts the hair on the back of my neck. “Whatever it takes. This is a family business, after all.
Our
business.”
Red spits on the ground and nods. “Gotta get back. I need to keep my eye on Cherry. She’s been acting weird, and I don’t trust her.”
I gotta go! Move, clown feet. I lift the left, only to be jerked back by the right. I’m stuck! Omigosh.
God, help me!
Their voices get nearer as I bend over, jerking on my shoe. It’s snagged on some sort of canopy pin.
“Maybe I should have a talk with little cousin Cherry.”
Oh, no, I cannot explain my way out of this one, Jesus. How about a
Harry Potter cloak of invisibility right now? Please help me
.
I take a giant breath and pull with all my might. Aughhh!
Too late. Two set of feet appear.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Red Fritz demands.
From my stooped position, I lift my eyes. “Um . . . I was just—”
“Waiting for me.”
I jerk upright as Luke appears at my back. He sends me a warm smile and curls an arm around my shoulder. “Our first date was at the county fair. And it was on a Ferris wheel just like this that I knew I had found someone special. I thought we’d take a ride tonight and celebrate old times.” Luke rushes on before Red can interrupt. “It’s my break time.”
Oh, he is so full of bull.
And I couldn’t be more grateful.
“You shouldn’t be walking around out here like this,” Stewart says to me. “Alone and all. You never know what might get a pretty thing like you.”
“Thanks.” Ick.
A short man in a dirty Metallica T-shirt limps over to the Ferris wheel control. “Oh . . . um, hey, boss.”
Red Fritz pierces him with an icy glare. “What have I told you about leaving your ride?”
Luke takes the opportunity to drop his keys to the ground. “Oops.”
“I know, boss. I, um, had to go to the bathroom real bad and there wasn’t anyone around to cover.”
Luke yanks on my shoe, and I find freedom.
Thank you, Lord. I
totally owe you one
.
Stewart turns his attention back to me as Luke picks up his keys. “How long had you been standing there—waiting?”
“Just got here, Stewart.” My voice rises an octave. My heart still thunders like a wild stallion in my chest. “Yep, just found the Ferris wheel.”
“I could give you a ride. On the house.” The short man attempts a smile for Red. “If that’s okay. Then I’ll shut it down for the night.”
Stewart jerks his head toward Luke. “Is this your boyfriend?”
Luke pulls me to his chest. “It’s complicated. We’re still working out some kinks.” His hand digs into my rib cage. “Right, Bella?”
“Right.” Get me out of here. “Just can’t seem to stay away from each other.” I pat his chest.
“Then by all means, take a romantic spin around a few times.” Stewart’s eyes have me snuggling even closer to Luke. “I’d hate to get in the way of true love.”
“No, that’s okay.” I look up at the tall ride and swallow. “We’re just going to go back to the big top and finish up.”
“Nonsense.” Red smiles, and I notice a few back teeth missing. “Fire her up, Will. Bella, here, is the one who found Betty. Stabbed. Dead.” His tongue peeks out as he punctuates each word. “I guess the least we can do is give her and her boyfriend a ride.”
“He’s not really my—”
“Great.” Luke pulls me toward the entry ramp. “Thank you.” He presses a kiss to my cheek as we walk. “Play along or we both lose our jobs.”
“I heard them talking,” I say through gritted teeth.
Luke grins and waves to the three carnival workers. “Imagine that. You eavesdropping.”
Will runs up ahead of us and holds open the door to the seat. “Hop in.”
I freeze in my steps and feel Luke’s hand pressed to my back. “Um, maybe we could do this another night. I should get back to the circus.”
Luke’s tone is pseudo-friendly. “But Red and Stewart are watching us to make sure we get that ride we wanted.”
I step one long shoe into the cart and take a deep gulping breath. “Okay. Okay.” I can do it. But if this thing stops at the top and dumps me out onto the cold, hard concrete, I’m going to be so mad.
I fumble my way into the seat and plaster my body as close to the wall of the cart as I can get.
Luke throws an arm around me again and pulls me close. “Eyes are watching us,” he says under his breath.
The man named Will locks and secures us in, then slaps the cart. “Here we go! You ready? This one goes pretty high!”
“Oh. Great.” Why couldn’t I have eavesdropped near a kiddie ride? A little choo-choo train would’ve been nice.
Will runs back to his post and yanks on a lever. The entire ride chugs and shivers.
“Try to look like you’re not repulsed by my very presence,” Luke says.
“Uh-huh.”
“Lean my way.”
“I’m good.”
He lets out a huffing breath. “Bella, you’re—” I watch his face change from frustrated to bemused. “It’s not me, is it?”
“Nuh-uh.”
I clutch the handlebars until I can feel my nails tear into skin.
Luke’s chest shakes with his laughter.
“This is not funny,” I hiss. “What kind of dumb story was that? We met at the county fair?” We’re going up. So not good. I want my mom. And a parachute.
“Are you afraid of heights?”
“No.” Just rides that
involve
heights.
