Sweets To The Sweet

Be careful what you wish for, because the consequences may be more than you are willing to pay. Those were the words that I spoke to myself as I sat alone in the backseat of the police cruiser. I was handcuffed and being bounced around like a rag doll as the car raced down the wet muddy back roads of Winters Texas.

I was brought to tears mouthing those words over and over. "Be careful what you wish for—" I whispered.

"Ehh? You sayin' somethin' back there Bret?" The officer driving the police cruiser asked. "Oh what a shit storm y'er in. Why'd ya' do it boy?"

"—be careful what you wish for," was the only reply I gave.

There was a bright flash of light as lightning streaked across the black moonless sky. A loud crack followed by a deep rolling thunder came soon after the lightning flash. This made me think of the night that

they

came into town.

It was on a night much like this one, but it was one week earlier when things were normal. Well about as normal as things could get around here.

ΔΔΔ

The night was cold and damp. The clouds scattered across the sky were almost as dark as the sky itself making them hard to see. The stars were bright looking down at a little boy that stood outside looking up at the stars with my mother. My father was working late at a side job and we were waiting for him to get home. That was when I saw the most incredible thing. It seemed to come right out of the blackness of the sky.

It began with just a small spark, but it lit up the sky like a miniature sun. My mouth dropped open as it streaked across the sky from horizon to horizon in an instant.

"Look Bret! It's a shooting star. Make a wish son and if you believe hard enough it will come true." Mother had the kindest face I had ever seen and even though it seemed like she had been crying I still thought that she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I don't remember why she was crying, but I think it had something to do with my father not being home.

I closed my eyes and made my wish silently. I could hear something off in the distance. The sound was that of rolling thunder, but there were no storm clouds in the sky and this sound seemed to be constant. The odd thing was that the sound wasn't coming from above like normal thunder, but coming off from the west where the star had fallen.

It wasn't until that next morning did I find out what that sound had been. My sister and I decided to take mother a homemade lunch that consisted of one apple, one banana, one ham sandwich and one PB&J sandwich with the crusts cut off. I had fixed the latter and I thought that it would be appropriate thinking about how sad my mother had been the night before and when I was sad she would always fix me a PB&J sandwich. This never failed to lift my spirits.

The small town of Winters was a handful of streets surrounded by miles and miles of farmland and grazing fields for livestock. The town itself was only a few square miles and my family lived in a small brick house that my father had built himself just on the outskirts of town, on Stephens St. one of the longest roads in town.

We had to walk to the corner store that was located at the corner of Stephens and Elm, one of the three only major cross streets in Winters Texas. The store was made of block instead of brick and had been painted canary yellow.

I loved visiting her while she was at work because The CornerStore, as it was amply named, had the best tasting red-soda in town. Mother always made sure that when I left the store that I got a small fountain drink of what ever I wanted. To me it was a no-brainer, I got the sweet red-soda and also a chocolate bar.

That day there was a ringing in my ears as my sister, Maggie and I walked down the Stephens Street in the June day sun. The heat started swelling up as the day passed from morning to afternoon and sweat began to drip down my forehead. I could still taste the sweet chocolate that I had pilfered from my hidden stash of sweets when the tent first came into view.

It stood in the empty field that separated downtown Winters from the housing district. The field was used by ranchers to graze their cattle or hold their houses, but this year it seemed that they lent it to a traveling carnival.

They were putting up a bright red sing with wicked lettering across it that announced The Phoenix Carnival of Exotic Wonders will be opening their tents tomorrow. The price was $5 for children and $7 for adults.

"Wow Bret would you look at that?" His older sister said. "Do you think mom and dad will take us?"

My sister may have been older, but her common sense was not that of a twelve year old. "Mom may let us go, but I doubt father will get home in time for us to go. At least not before dark," I told her.

"Well maybe that's a good thing, because it would cost $24 for the family to go, but then again dad would probably not go. That would mean it would cost $17 for mom to take us." She thought a moment as we halved the distance between us and the store. "Maybe we can collect bottles or cans to get the money to go. Then mom and dad couldn't say that we couldn't afford it."

Then again, I thought to myself, sometimes she does have some common sense. I didn't even think that we may not be able to afford it. I just took it for granted that Maggie and I would get to go no matter the cost.

There was a series of trucks lined end to end. Painted on the sides of these trucks were a series of attractions; a man covered in hair or fur with sharp teeth, a woman that was human from waist up and snake from waist down surrounded by a host of freaks of nature, and finally was an artist rendition of a young boy in Egyptian head dress surrounded by thousands of worshipers.

"How long do you think it would take to raise the money?" I asked Maggie.

"I don't know squirt. I think may a couple of days at least if we both worked hard."

There was no time like the present and so we started collecting cans and bottles on the last stretch of road to the store. It was only a few hundred yards but with me on one side of the street and Maggie on the other we managed to collect a handful of cans and even a few bottles a piece.

We delivered our homemade meal to mother and asked her about the carnival, but she looked at us with sad eyes and told us that she would have to see. "You know how your father is about things like that. I will have to talk with him."

"Well if it makes a difference, Bret and I can pay our own way in mom. We have decided to collect cans and stuff to make enough money for tickets." Maggie was now bargaining with mother and it seemed to be working.

Mother for her part seemed impressed with her daughter's initiative. There was a twinkle in my mother's eyes that I hadn't seen for a long time. I was glad to see it again.

I stood outside the store with my face pressed against the glass looking in on them both. My cheeks were bulging from fruity flavored candy that had been stuffed to the max in my mouth. There was that strange ringing in my ears that was only interrupted by "Um—excuse me."

I turned around quickly to see a young boy about my age standing behind. He looked as dirty as any other six or seven year-old boy with tattered jeans that were worn thin at the knees. The yellow and brown striped shirt was brown all over from dirt and his hair was unkempt and the same flaming red as the freckles on his face.

He seemed to be waiting for me to move out from in front of the double glass doors to go into the store, but once I moved he did not go in.

"What are you doing? Somethin' interesting goin' on in there?" He moved to the place where I had been and pressed his face against the glass. "No," he said simply. "Just some girl talking to some ol'lady."

This caused a reaction in me that I hadn't felt before. "You take that back! My mother isn't old!" I knew that he hadn't meant it in a rude or hateful manner, but for some reason, maybe it was the buzzing and ringing in my ears, but this boy was starting to get on my nerves.

I guess he saw it in my eyes because he quickly said, "Hey sorry. I didn't mean anything by it. She is very pretty." This seemed to work. "And the girl? Do you know her?"

"Yes, her name is Maggie. She's my sister."

"Maggie is cute too, if you're into that sort of thing." He made a face like he had just taken a whiff of something rotten. "Hey, my name is Martien Grey Hawkins. My folks call me Marty."

Marty extended his small hand out and I shook it graciously. That was how I met Marty. "Pleased to meet you Marty, my name is Bret."

He turned and looked back through the window, "Yeah I know. Hey you know of anything to do around here?" He pulled out a tiny red ball that was wrapped in clear plastic. On the plastic was the red and yellow words Atomic Fireball. He popped one into his mouth and pushed it to the side of his left cheek.

"Well they are putting up the tent just down the road. It's a carnival," I started but was quickly interrupted.

"Yeah yeah, I know that already. My mother and step father work there. That's where I came from." He started walking away from the doors towards the empty parking lot.

"Really?" I called to him. "I have never seen a carnival before. What is it like?"

Marty stopped and turned to look at me. "You have never been to a carnival before? Never in your life?"

"Nope. Why is that bad?"

Marty started laughing. It was forced laughter and Bret didn't seem to care. For the first time in his life he felt like something was about to happen to him that would change his forever.

Marty started talking in this strange voice like something out of the black and white cartoons, "

No, my boy. Scoot back son y're botherin' me. It's a fantastic place see? Full of amazing wonders and frightening sights, see.

" He was waving his hands in broad arcs as if revealing imaginary secrets.

He continued, "

You have seen the breaded woman, borin'. Or the mermen, old news. We have the remains of a two headed Cyclops. The mummified remains of an Indian Prince complete with his shrunken arm. We have the vault of terror featuring some of the most horrifying images you have ever seen. Demons and monsters. Come one! Come all and see what The Phoenix Carnival of Wonders has to offer.

"

With the pitch complete I was left in awe. "I thought that it was called The Phoenix Carnival of Exotic Wonders?" That was the only response that I could think of.

"Well that is what is on this sign, but it changes from town to town. It just depends on that the town looks like. If the town has a lot of churches and the people seem to be god fearing folks then we may use the sign that says Miraculous Wonders on it. Or maybe if the town is big and the people are busy bees then we may use Forgotten Terrors." He shrugged, "It just depends. Wanna go see?"

"You mean now?" I looked back to see if Maggie was finished talking with mother, but I couldn't see her from where we both stood. "Let me go ask right quick."

Marty just shrugged again and started walked backwards towards the area where they were putting up the tent, "If you can then catch up." He was intently looking down at his feet. I was puzzled by this until I realized what he was doing. He was taking the exact path that he had walked to get to the store. Making sure to match his steps, step for step.

When I reached the door and glanced back it occurred to me that this must have been something that he did often because he was moving at surprising speed as he walked backwards.

"Mom can I go watch them put up the tents? I think I saw a little boy there that I might be able to play with."

My inconsideration took them both by surprise and because of my haste I did not get a chance to hear what they were talking about.

"Sure dear, just be careful and don't get into anyone's way."

With that I bolted for the door.

My mother called after me, "Bret!" I stopped and my eyes met hers, "If they tell you to leave then you come right back here okay? And stay in sight of the road so that Maggie can find you when she heads home."

"Okay mom. I'll be good." Again I was off as fast as my feet could take me.

As I started down the side of the road I thought about following my own footprints, but then put the thought aside. I wanted to get there as quickly as possible and even though the carnival was only a couple of blocks away it seemed like it took me and hour to get there.

Marty had just walked passed the first two trucks when I had caught up with him. I was tired and out of breath having just sprinted the entire way there. "Good you made it. I was wondering what I was going to do for the rest of the day, but since you are here I can give you a tour."

I tried to say thanks, but all that came out was heavy gasps as I tried to catch my breath.

"I would introduce you to my mom and step dad, but they don't like to be bothered while working." Marty led me around to the various tents and booths that were being erected and everyone that passed seemed to notice that there was a new kid around.

They watched me intently without even glancing at Marty. "Don't mind them, they just don't like strangers coming around and seeing what really goes on around here. But you're with me and they won't say anything." He looked at me and smiled, "Just pretend like you belong."

Marty walked me through the entire carnival. As we passed by certain people he might say, "See him, he's the Wolf-man. Every morning before he comes out of his trailer he puts on all that hair and those teeth.

We walked over to one of the completed tents, "See it's safe for the freaks to walk about now because no one is supposed to be here, but once those lights come on and those gates open up." He motioned to the makeshift gates that they were erecting now. "Then its in-character twenty-four seven, it doesn't matter if they are on the shitter or eating dinner."

He pulled on the canvas edge pulling it up just enough for me to slip through. "Its so they can keep the illusion going see."

I lay on my back and scooted myself into the dark tent. I didn't realize it until I was holding up the canvas for Marty to slide in that I had lain in an anthill and was getting stung by them something fierce.

Once Marty was in I started swatting and beating myself about the arms and legs trying to kill as many as I could. It felt like there must have been hundreds on me. I tore off my shirt and started using it to swat at them. By the time I got them all off of me I had been stung about two dozen times. I couldn't see what kind of ants they were, but they must have been pretty big because I started feeling light headed and sick to my stomach.

The place was dark and I could see small boxes everywhere. They were about 12 inches long and 4 inches wide and looked much like shoe boxes. There were even some large wooden crates that had these small boxes stacked inside them. A black canvas lined the floor and made makeshift walls and rooms. Then in the center of the main room all alone was a pillar of sorts that stood no taller than Marty and had a golden oblong box tied to it.

The small shoe boxes surrounded this center pillar as if radiating out from the center in a circular pattern. Some of these boxes were open and even hurting as I was from the ant bites I still managed to peer into one of these boxes.

The thing inside the box was no more than 10 inches long. It looked like what a baby doll would look like if you baked it for 10 minutes in the over. It was black and charred looking. The skin or outer layer of whatever covered it was dried and wrinkly like beef jerky but no hair could be seen. The head was egg shaped, but it didn't remind him of a person.

"What'ya think? Pretty cool huh?" Marty's voice shattered my own thoughts and brought me back to reality.

"Yeah," was my only reply. I motioned to the pillar, "What's in there?" I tried not to show my nervousness by pulling out a Pixi-Stix from my pocket and tearing off the end. I up ended the straw shaped container and filled my mouth with the grape flavored sugar that was inside. Its contents caked on the inside of my mouth and I slowly mixed it with my saliva and swallowed. This gave me a sugar rust the border lined bliss.

His smile brightened, "That is the boy who would be king. My parents found him somewhere in Mexico." Marty walked over to the pillar and opened it carefully.

It seemed to be a coffin or at least that is what it reminded me of. There was even a face carved into it, but that isn't what I stared at. Inside the coffin was a small boy that was all I could think of. His head was egg shaped and the skin was dried like something you would see in an old horror movie. The eye holes were huge and vacant, almost the size of my fist, while the body was small and thin.

A sign was fixed at the feet of the mummified boy. I could hardly read what it said, but part of what it said was:

Here lies the boy that would be king …

What ever else it said couldn't be read from where I stood.

"Sometimes I think they love this thing more than they love their own son." There was something in Marty's voice that concerned me, but I couldn't dwell on it. "He is, after all, the boy who would be king."

I just stared at the thing inside that coffin and imagined what he must have looked like in real life. This was after all the first dead body I had ever seen. The blackened skin was pulled taut over the small frame. There was a crease in the leathery skin that started at the breastbone and traced a line down to its navel.

The hollow empty eyes were the size of small fists. The mouth pulled tight around the hideously grinning teeth and there were just tiny slits where once the ears rested.

I watched the body in that Egyptian coffin for no more than five or ten minutes, but when you are young time has a funny way of stretching thin. Making one minute seems like ten minutes and ten minutes feel like hours. This was how it felt that night.

My eyes were focused on those hollowed out eyes. The harder I stared the more I would notice something was amiss. I would lose focus on the body for an instant, causing it smear and my vision to blur as if it were moving almost too fast to see.

Was I seeing it right? Was the body moving? When I relaxed my eyes I could see the remains clearly, but when I focused on any one part of the thing—there was it breathing? The chest moving ever so slightly—no it was moving so fast that the movement couldn't really be seen.

My focus fell on the chest and that deep crease. It wasn't like someone had taken a knife to the body and cut it open, but more like it had always been there even in life. Was there something that the body was hiding away? Was there some hidden treasure or revelation that could be touched or could be seen by opening that leathery chest?

There seemed to be a twitch as I watched the chest and this caused me to jump back. "What the? It moved!" My head began to throb.

I was reminded of an issue of Strange Tales comic books where a man was digging a well in his back yard and uncovered a buried body. The body looked much like this one, but as he was digging around the thing he cut himself and dripped blood down on the remains. Later that night after retiring to bed there came a scrapping noise from outside his bedroom door.

The man was a typical man and got up to investigate only to find out that the body he had uncovered wasn't dead. In fact it seemed to only be sleeping and the blood that had dripped on it awakened it. It had entered the house to retrieve the rest of the man's blood from which had awakened it.

Marty must have seen the look on my face and just laughed. "No—well yes it did move, but its not what you think. It's motorized." He was looking at me intently as he spoke as if gauging my response, "My parents put it in to scare onlookers as they passed by. It's on a timer and every ten minutes part of it will twitch."