D A Novel (George Right) - By George Right Page 0,56
on her dizzying rides. The young people consistently paid their tribute to all spinning and twisting units, excluding only the simplest carrousels for little kids (but, certainly, including "Sky Ship" on the long bar which made the loops so disliked by Mike; at the top point, hanging upside down in an open cabin, Jane shrieked, and then began to laugh loudly; Mike only nervously squeezed the safety bar and thought "when will this end?”); practiced in accuracy, shooting with air-rifles and crossbows and throwing balls in a ring; tried to walk inside transparent plastic spheres floating in a pool (it turned out, naturally, not so much walking as falling); made a "space flight" in a cabin with a screen, which was shaking and heeling in all directions according to the action on the screen; ate cotton candy and popcorn; were photographed dressed as pirates and cowboys with the corresponding scenery in the background; wriggled in front of fun house mirrors and...
"Well, looks like we've done everything here," Mike uttered, glancing towards the exit.
"Wait," Jane objected, once again stopping at the carnival map near the cash booth. "Hmm, it does look like everything," she disappointedly concluded.
"So, let's leave?”
"First I need to pee," declared Jane; she didn't trouble herself with euphemisms like "to powder my nose." Having found the restroom icon on the map, she resolutely moved in the chosen direction.
Mike didn't have the same need. While cola was sold at the carnival, it was ice cold, and on this overcast day Mike hadn't wanted any, while Jane drank up a big plastic cup. So he remained in place, absent-mindedly looking around. By 3 p.m., the carnival gradually had become filled with visitors. They were mostly parents with little children or they were small companies of boys about twelve or thirteen years old. Adult guys with their girlfriends, like Mike and Jane, were still rare–they would come closer to the evening... Reacting to the increase in visitors, disguised barkers appeared in the thin crowd. One of them, a fat clown with a red smile drawn on his white face, seemed to feel Mike's gaze from a distance of several yards and suddenly turned to him, conspiratorially winked and beckoned him with a finger.
Mike politely smiled as if to say, “Thanks, mister, but I already visited your tent.” The clown nodded as if he understood, turned and moved away, but then looked back and beckoned again.
"What does he want from me?" Mike wondered and even looked back, checking whether there was somebody behind him to whom the clown had been gesturing. But he didn't see anybody looking towards the clown. Mike looked towards where the clown had been, but didn't see him any longer–probably the barker had disappeared behind the backs of the walking visitors or entered the nearest tent. Very well, let him disappear. There was something unpleasant about this character, though Mike couldn't say what exactly. However, he had disliked clowns since his childhood, finding their appearance not at all funny but ugly.
Jane had disappeared somewhere, too. Why is she dawdling so long? Probably there is a line waiting to get into the restroom. Mike slowly moved in the same direction his girlfriend had gone–and in the same direction, as he understood a second later, the clown had beckoned him. Mike gazed around in order not to miss the girl and realized he would feel calmer if he could see to which attraction the clown enticed people. Fun house, probably? But it was in the opposite direction... For an instant it seemed to Mike that he saw the clown directly ahead once more, but in the next moment the barker disappeared again.
Without having seen either the red-lipped fat man or Jane, Mike reached the restroom area located in the farthest corner of the carnival. There were mobile booths, not a stationary building. And there was no waiting line there. Actually, there was not a single person.
Mike looked around. Just a moment ago the crowd around him had rustled, rides' mighty electric motors had roared, girls had shrieked as they rose head over heels to the sky, wild buffoonery tunes had played–and suddenly he found himself absolutely alone, in a completely desolate part of the former waste grounds. Actually, why former? Here it didn't look former at all... No, the fun was still near; choral squeals, persuasive melody and the clap of air-rifles reached his ears–but he was separated from all this joy by the wall of a long shed with a