The carnival boss sat in front of a giant plastic lemon reviewing the application.
“Blue Banshee, that your given name?”
“More of an appellation,” Blue Banshee said.
The man looked up confused. “A what?”
He sighed. “A nickname.”
“Understood. Here in the carny world we’re no strangers to folks with a checkered past. Some of us running, some of us searching. We pay in cash too, so if you wanna say your name is Blue Banshee or Orange Julius for that matter, that’s fine by us.”
Blue Banshee nodded.
“You have any experience making lemonade?”
“No. But I’ve drank a lot of Kool-Aid in my life.”
The man lifted his chin, appraising him. “What’s your favorite flavor?”
He let out a breath. “Purplesaurus Rex.”
The carnival boss banged the table. “An absolute classic! Wish it was still around.”
“Same here. I’ve tried mixing grape and lemonade but—”
“It’s not the same!” the man cut him off, laughing. “Me too, me too. I like you, Blue.” He hopped off his stool. “I’d also like to offer you a job. We’ll start you out squeezing lemons. If you can handle that, there’s plenty of opportunity to move around. Rubber duck fishing, Ferris wheel, that sort of thing.” He looked Blue Banshee up and down. “Given your size, we could surely find some use for ya over at the haunted house come Halloween week.”
Blue Banshee stood up straight, towering over the carnival boss. He looked like he could crush him and swallow the lemonade cart whole. “Sounds good.”
They shook hands. “Glad to hear it. Starts this weekend, six o’clock sharp.”
“You okay with me wearing the mask?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, whatever sails your snails. Might help ya move more lemons.”
*****
“Three lemonades, please. Actually, could you make one of those a limeade? The other two lemonades, one of them half sugar.” The mother had her hands full, chatting on a cell phone and wrangling three kids.
“You want sugar on the rim?” Blue Banshee asked.
“On two of them.”
“Which ones?”
She spoke into the phone. “Hang on, Kathy. Which ones what?”
“Never mind.” He moved to the lemon press and slammed it down. Juice exploded into a mixing pitcher.
The mom kept talking. One of the youngest boys peeked over the counter. “Your mask is ugly. Why do you wear it?”
Blue Banshee sliced a lime and dropped it into a shaker. “Why do you pick your nose?”
“Because I like the taste of boogers.”
“Well, I like the taste of sheep.”
“Yuck.”
“You’re yuck.” He filled up the last neon-yellow plastic goblet. “Next!”
A petite young woman with heavy dark eyeliner, a spiked choker, and an army jacket approached the counter. “Hey, stretch. Strawberry lemonade, extra sweet.”
Blue Banshee grunted.
“New guy, right? I’m Nikki. I work over at the water gun balloon race. You know the one?”
“Mmm,” he grumbled in agreement, handing over the drink.
Nikki took a big slurp. “Damn, this is good. Much better than the one over by the turkey leg cart. What’s your secret?”
“I put in a dash of strawberry Kool-Aid.”
“Fire. What’s your name, by the way?”
He shrugged. “You can call me Blue.”
“Alright. Catch you around, Blue.”
*****
The last of the carnivalgoers were pulling out of the parking lot. Vendors were lowering their shutters, workers were emptying trash cans, and the Ferris wheel stopped spinning.
Randy had one more job before calling it a night. The log flume, one of the fairground’s permanent attractions, had been giving them trouble all day. The boats would occasionally stall at Turn-D, just before the descent into the splash zone. His supervisor wanted one final inspection before shutting down.
He boarded a log, which had enough room for five passengers, and set sail. The ride always gave him the creeps at this time of night. The air was cool. The shadows were deep.
“Hiya folks! Welcome aboard the Gold Rush! Keep your feet and fingers inside and enjoy the ride!”
Randy gave the large animatronic mole in a miner’s hat a two finger salute. “Thanks, partner! I still hate your creepy voice though.”
The tracks pulled the log up the first incline below a row of lanterns. It was a six-foot drop, but it gave riders their first taste of the rush.
Splash! Water sprayed as the log touched down.
Randy stretched out, watching the scenery pass by. A pair of prospectors stood beside a mining cart, their pickaxes rising and falling. “Evening, fellas.”
Around a turn, a cart dashed overhead with the mole clutching two bags of fool’s gold. Randy waved.
The current continued to carry him through the attraction. Randy leaned forward, watching the water as he neared Turn-D. He shone his flashlight against the cave walls and along the track, searching for a place where the ride might stall. The log rounded the corner without so much as a hiccup.
“I don’t know. Seems fine to me.”
The boat rounded another bend and approached the old mining tunnel.
“Look out folks! You and Mac the Mole better get a move on. You found real gold and these prospectors think they should get a chunk.”
The log entered the mine shaft and began its slow climb. The cheerful music was replaced by the heavy clanking of the lift mechanism. Randy clicked off his flashlight and leaned back.
Somewhere behind him, wood creaked. The boat rocked hard, its rear dipping suddenly into the water.
“Geez. I don’t remember that.” Randy glanced over his shoulder, but the back of the log was swallowed in darkness.
Randy faced forward and gripped the safety bar.
“Alright folks. We’re about to hit our descent. Don’t forget to stay seated and smile. Check out the monitors and give a big Gold Rush Grin! Pictures or videos are available for purchase.”
Several monitors lining the walls flicked on. Randy squinted at the live feed. “What the?”
A figure in a sheep’s mask was in the rear of the cart.
Blue Banshee slowly raised his axe, as the ride reached the crest. He studied the back of Randy’s head as the log started to descend, picking up speed.
CRACK!
The blade buried itself in a wooden support beam overhead. The log continued flying forward, wrenching the handle from his grip. Before Blue Banshee could duck, the handle smacked him square in the face.
They both kept falling.
SPLASH! The log hit the bottom of the drop, sending water everywhere. Both men were drenched as the log lost momentum and settled in the exit lane.
Randy twisted around. “You scared the hell out of me, brother! Nikki put you up to this?”
“Ah. No,” Blue Banshee said.
“Okay. New guy’s just a natural prankster huh? It’s game on. I’m Randy by the way.”
“Blue.”
“Nice to meet ya, Blue. Nikki said you make a mean lemonade.”
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—Ricky C.
The suspense was great. I really thought this was the one! Well done. It's nice to know that when things go bad for Blue he can always make lemonade out of lemons.
"...whatever sails your snails"
HAH! Good one. This one had some very good descriptive moments and certainly leaves room for plenty of mischief in future episodes.