Funland

  He shut his eyes tight and clutched his head. The images of Tanya kept staggering through his mind, jumbled and twisted. Instead of erotic, they seemed nightmarish and sickening. But he couldn’t get rid of them. For a long while he thought he might vomit or pass out.

  The beach, he told himself. I’ve got to get to the beach.

  He saw himself flopping onto the hot sand.

  That would be good. Just lie there and not move and not think.

  Imagining himself sprawled on the beach, he felt the pain begin to subside. He thought about the peaceful sounds of the surf and sea gulls.

  Finally, no longer crushed by the pain, he took a bottle of aspirin out of his shirt pocket. He popped the cap off and dry-swallowed three tablets.

  They seemed to get stuck somewhere in the middle of his chest.

  A drink. Need something to drink.

  He looked around and saw a soft-drink vending machine beside the office of the motel just ahead. He climbed slowly off his bike. He lifted it onto the sidewalk and rolled it toward the office.

  Movement on the second-story balcony caught his eye.

  Just a guy leaving one of the rooms.

  Something familiar…

  The guy’s back was turned. He was lingering in the doorway, apparently speaking to someone inside. He raised a hand in farewell, pulled the door shut, and started walking along the balcony.

  With the side view, Jeremy recognized him.

  Nate.

  Forgetting his need for a drink, Jeremy turned his bike around and rolled it toward the corner. He walked it across the street. At the other side, he glanced back and saw Nate climb into a red sports car. He walked a little farther, listening. He heard the engine thunder to life. When the sound began to fade, he looked again and saw the car moving away.

  He pushed his bike back to the corner.

  He peered at the closed door of the motel room.

  What the hell had Nate been doing in there?

  A motel room. Ten o’clock on a Saturday morning.

  He must’ve been with a girl. Jeremy could think of no other explanation.

  Tanya? Was Tanya in there?

  It didn’t make sense.

  He spotted a coffee shop directly across the street from the motel. If he got a window seat, he would be able to watch the door and see who came out.

  And he could get himself a drink to wash down the aspirin that seemed to be burning a hole in his chest.

  Keeping an eye on the door, he walked his bike to the coffee shop.

  Thirty-two

  The Pepsi made the aspirin ache fade, though not quite vanish entirely.

  Nobody had come out of the motel room by the time Jeremy finished his drink.

  He was beginning to feel pretty good. The soda helped his stomach, and he supposed the aspirin was working on the pain in his head. It also helped, just sitting there.

  For a while he sipped the water of the melting ice cubes up through his straw.

  The coffee shop had plenty of vacant tables and stools at the counter, but he felt guilty about lingering with his glass empty. He caught the eye of the waitress and asked for a hot-fudge sundae.

  He’d planned on a waffle cone at Funland. He supposed he could still buy one later on if he felt like it. But for now he needed something in front of him so he wouldn’t look as if he were loitering.

  The sundae came, and he ate so slowly that the ice cream was soupy by the time he spooned the last of it into his mouth.

  Still nobody had come out of the motel room.

  Nate couldn’t have been alone in there. He’d stood in the doorway for a few moments before leaving, obviously talking to someone.

  It had to be a girl, didn’t it?

  A girl, but not Tanya. It couldn’t be Tanya. They’d both been so angry at each other last night when Nate left the party.

  What if they had made up?

  Jeremy was tired of wondering about such things. The same thoughts must’ve gone through his mind at least once every five minutes.

  The girl might be Tanya. But he didn’t believe it, wouldn’t believe it. If they’d made up and gone to a motel, it ruined everything. Tanya had to stay mad at Nate. She had to. Otherwise, Jeremy wouldn’t stand a chance.

  Who’s in there, dammit?

  What if she doesn’t come out? I can’t sit here all day.

  Jeremy wondered if he should order something else. Maybe another Pepsi. He looked for his waitress. She was clearing a table near the door, her back to him.

  He glanced out the window again.

  The door of the motel room swung open. A girl stepped onto the balcony. A slim girl wearing a powder-blue dress that looked like a jersey. Her bright blond hair was nearly as short as his own. Though she was too far away for Jeremy to make out the features of her face, the hair gave her away. So did the slender build. And the backpack and instrument case.

  The banjo girl!

  The bitch who had snapped at him Wednesday night on the boardwalk, just before Cowboy showed up. The bitch he’d found the next day singing that sick nuclear-war song about a weenie roast. The bitch he’d imagined himself taking on, wrestling, pinning down.

  He watched her stride along the balcony. There was a bounce in her stride, as if she were happy about something.

  Yeah, he thought. Happy. She got screwed by Nate.

  Wait till Tanya hears about this!

  He stared at her slender tanned legs, at the way the dress clung to her small rump. The backpack bounced as she trotted down the stairs.

  Jeremy dug out his wallet. He slapped a dollar onto the table for a tip, snatched up his bill, and hurried to the counter. Nobody was there. Fidgeting, he looked back and saw her enter the motel office. Probably to drop off the room key or register herself for another night.

  At last his waitress stepped behind the cash register. He paid, and rushed out the door. Unchaining his bike, he saw the girl leave the office. She started walking in the direction of Funland. Of course.

  He waited for a break in the traffic, then walked his bike across the street. When he reached the other side, the girl was half a block ahead of him. He mounted his bike and followed.

  Incredible, he thought. Tanya’s going to blow her stack. She’ll never make up with Nate, not after she hears about this. Nate screwing the banjo girl. Man, the bitch was only one step away from being a goddamn troll.

  Explains why Nate turned against everyone at the party. Not because he felt guilty about the fat old guy taking a header off the Ferris wheel. Just wanted us to think that was why. The real reason, he’d fallen for one of the enemy. No wonder he wanted the trolling to stop.

  No wonder he sounded off and split.

  He had someplace to go.

  The motel.

  So he could screw his troll.

  “Wow,” Jeremy said. “Holy shit.”

  Staying half a block behind the girl, he followed her to Fun-land. While she hurried up the main stairs, he chained his bike to the rack. He lost sight of her when she passed through the entryway.

  On the boardwalk, he scanned the milling crowd. This was Saturday. He’d never seen the place this packed. He wandered through the jam of people, searching for her. Then he gave up.

  It didn’t matter.

  He was sure he would be able to find her later, if he wanted to. Before long, she would probably start playing her banjo. He could simply follow the sound of the music.

  The main thing was to tell Tanya what he’d seen.

  Blow Nate out of the water.

  And score points with Tanya. You’ll have to prove yourself, she’d said. With loyalty. Well, this sure ought to show his loyalty.

  Maybe this would be enough.

  He went down the steps to the sand.

  Stopped.

  His head turned to the left as if pulled by a magnet. Kept turning until his neck would allow it to move no farther.

  He stared at the Ferris wheel.

  Brightly spinning. Th
en dark, shrouded by fog. He heard the old man’s scream rake the night, heard the ringing thuds as he pounded the struts, saw him tumbling down.

  Jeremy grinned.

  One down, a hundred to go.

  They’ve all gotta pay.

  Me and Tanya, we’ll wipe them out.

  Still grinning, he turned away from the Ferris wheel and began to walk across the sand.

  Like the boardwalk, the beach was overflowing with people. He made his way carefully around their blankets, towels, canvas chairs, and even passed a few umbrellas. Wet kids were running by, their laughter and shouts mixing with the manic voices of DJ’s and rock from radios that seemed to be everywhere. People read, slept, ate and drank, talked to friends or lovers, rubbed suntan lotion on skin that was white or pink or richly tanned.

  Jeremy didn’t pay much attention to the men.

  But he studied the women as he walked past them.

  Soon he was dry-mouthed and breathless, hard, achy. His throbbing heartbeat pounded blood into his head, awakening the pain that had nearly disappeared.

  He tried to stop looking at the sprawled, exposed bodies.

  Then he saw a blond girl in a backless black suit. Shiner? His heart bucked. His head roared.

  What’ll I do?

  Talk to her. Apologize. Maybe it’s not too late.

  Her head lifted and he saw her face. Tiny eyes, a sharp nose, thin lips, a sunken chin. Not Shiner, after all.

  Thank God, he thought.

  He felt spared. He felt disappointed.

  You didn’t want it to be Shiner, he told himself.

  I’ll have Tanya soon. Tanya’s almost mine.

  He looked up and squinted toward the lifeguard station. On the platform stood a man in red trunks.

  “Shit!”

  Jeremy pounded fists against the sides of his legs.

  She’d had yesterday off. She must have today off too.

  I’ve gotta tell her about Nate!

  Head spinning with pain, he dropped to his knees. He took off his shirt, spread it in front of him, and lay down. He folded his arms under his face.

  I’ll go home, he thought. I’ll go home and phone her.

  Wait. No. There are pay phones on the boardwalk.

  He thought about getting up, but he didn’t want to move. The hot sand felt good beneath him. The sun’s heat weighed him down. A mild breeze ruffled his hair and caressed his back.

  Later. I’ll do it later.

  “Well, durn me if it ain’t the Duker.”

  The voice seemed to come from far away.

  Something soft whupped against Jeremy’s back. Moaning, he rolled onto his side and looked up at Cowboy. “Hi,” he said. Though he felt groggy and leaden, his headache was gone.

  He wondered how long he’d been asleep.

  Cowboy spread a towel on the sand and sat down cross-legged, facing Jeremy. He wore his old Stetson and a tight bikini-style swimsuit. He looked as if he had an earmuff taped to the side of his head. Otherwise, he wasn’t bandaged. Jeremy didn’t count, but he guessed there were six or eight cuts on his arms, chest, and belly. Some had stitches. All the wounds looked brown and gooey, and a little red around the edges.

  “Don’t you believe in bandages?”

  “Sun’ll do ’em good. How you doing, old hoss?”

  “Okay, I guess.”

  “Me, I’m as hung-over as a dead whore on a fencepost.”

  “Me too. It’s getting better, though.”

  “How come you didn’t stick around last night?”

  “It was Shiner,” he said, wondering if anyone knew she had left without him. “She had to get home early.”

  “You didn’t tell her about the treatment, did you?”

  Jeremy felt heat rush to his face. “The treatment?”

  “Your blood pact.”

  Cowboy knew about that? Trying not to sound shocked, he said, “No. I didn’t tell Shiner.”

  “Good thing. It’s only between Tanya and the guys. And Karen, since she’s a lezzie. The rest of the gals, they ain’t in on it.”

  “She’s done that with all the guys?” Jeremy asked.

  “Sure. And Karen, like I said.”

  He nodded slowly. He felt cheated, robbed. He had thought Tanya did the ritual because she considered him special. He had thought he’d been singled out. Maybe there’s some mistake, he told himself. Maybe Cowboy’s talking about something different.

  “You had the blood pact,” he said. “How’d it go?”

  “Man, freaked the needles right offa my cactus.”

  “I mean, what did she do?”

  Cowboy blew his pursed lips. “It was weird, man. You aren’t gonna believe this.”

  “I’ll believe it.”

  “I’m home alone, right? This is a Saturday night last summer, and my folks are off at a party, and I haven’t met up with Liz yet, which accounts for my being alone. I was down in the den watching Evil Dead II on the VCR. You ever seen that?”

  “Yeah. It’s cool.”

  “How about when the guy’s hand gets possessed and he starts bashing himself over the head—?”

  “What about Tanya?” Jeremy asked.

  “Okay, I’m all by myself and watching this sucker in the dark, so I’m pretty spooked anyway. This is only like a month after Tanya got out of the hospital. We’d been sneaking out and trying to find the actual shits that done the job on her. It was just her, Nate, me, and Samson. We knew some bums had laid her open with a busted bottle. That was no big secret. Was even in the papers. But we didn’t know everything they’d done to her. Maybe Nate did, but he never let on. Anyway, we ran into plenty of bums, but not the right ones. We pounded a few of ’em anyway, and took ’em on rides outta town. Then we quit.”

  “You quit?” Jeremy sat up. The skin of his back felt very hot and stiff. He knew he had probably burned. He picked up his shirt, shook the sand off it, and draped it across his shoulders.

  “Quitting was Nate’s idea. He didn’t see much point in going on with it, seeing as how we couldn’t find the creeps that slashed Tanya. We all figured they must’ve hustled their sorry butts outta town.”

  Jeremy nodded. “So you were watching Evil Dead, and then what happened?”

  “Well, I had to take a leak, so I stopped the movie and went into the john. We’ve got one downstairs, you know, just outside the den. It’s got a shower. No bathtub, just a shower stall. So I’m standing there with my back to it, and I finish up and tuck ol’ Sneaky Pete back inside my pajamas and I’m reaching out to flush and all of a sudden I hear the shower curtain whip open. Screaming Judas, woulda scared the piss outta me, only I’d just gone. I spin around, and there’s Tanya. Man, she’s standing there in the shower stall, buck naked and holding a butcher knife.”

  “A butcher knife?”

  “Fuck, man. I figured: This is it. Figured she’d flipped out and I was gonna be a carved goose.”

  “Christ,” Jeremy muttered.

  “Only she doesn’t come at me. She doesn’t say shit. Just looks me in the eyes and starts sliding the point of that knife down her scar.” Cowboy shook his head slowly from side to side. His eyes were fixed on Jeremy, but they looked as if they were seeing Tanya instead. “Just touching it, you know? Not hard enough to cut herself. And real slow. All the way from her tit down to her pussy. God damn. Weirdest thing I ever saw. And that bod.” His eyes seemed to come into focus. “How’d you like that bod, Duke? You ever seen anything like it?”

  “No.”

  “Tanned all over, and—”

  “Well, what happened? Come on.”

  “Yeah, okay, so she done this thing with the knife. And finally she says, ‘This is what they did to me, Cowboy. But they did worse.” Then she tells me the whole story. All the stuff they did to her.”

  “Yeah, she told me.”

  “Then she says, ‘They have to pay. Will you help me make them pay?’ I start to remind her how we couldn’t find the guys, and she puts the knife
to her mouth to shush me. ‘Trolls are all the same,’ she says. ‘If it hadn’t been those three, it would’ve been three others. It could’ve been any of them. They’re all evil. They have to pay.’

  “I guess it made some sense. I don’t know. I was pretty shook-up. Bet you were too.”

  Jeremy nodded.

  “So I told her I’d go hunting trolls with her from now till doomsday, if that’s what she wanted. When I said that, she took holda my hand and got me into the shower stall with her. I figured ol’ Sneaky Pete was about to have the time of his life, but what she does is take the butcher knife to my hand.” Raising his right hand, he pointed out a small pale scar on his palm.

  Jeremy raised his own hand so Cowboy could see the tiny mark left by the razor blade.

  “Not much of a cut,” Cowboy remarked. “Can’t hardly see it.”

  “Sure bled, though.”

  “Mine too. So then she cut herself.”

  “Down there?”

  “Fuckin’-A right, down there.”

  “And made you hold it.”

  “You betcha. Held my hand right against her twat and she says, ‘Your blood’s in me, my blood’s in you. We’re blood lovers.’ Not blood brothers, like that Injun thing you hear about, but blood lovers.”

  “Said the same thing to me. Pretty much. So then what? Did you make it with her?”

  Cowboy’s eyes widened. “Did you?”

  “No.”

  He looked relieved. “Me either. But she kinda hinted it might go that way if I stuck with her and kept on going after trolls. Don’t know if she really meant it. Hasn’t happened yet.”

  “You don’t think it was just a lie, do you?”

  “Who knows? I keep waiting. Maybe I just haven’t proved myself enough.”

  “Has she done it with any of the other guys?”

  “Nate. But I guess they were doing it before, so it didn’t have nothing to do with the pact. If she’s put out for any of the other guys, I haven’t heard about it. But I know she did the ‘blood-lover’ thing with ’em.”

  “Maybe she wouldn’t do it because of Nate.”

  Cowboy grinned. “Now, that’s a dandy thought. Hope you’re right. Maybe our turn’s coming up.”