Again, I originally conceived "The Festival" to be a standalone story but the whole thing kind of grew on me a bit. I really started to get into the characters and felt the story needed a fitting conclusion so here it is for your consideration. I hope you enjoy it.
*****
Caleb reached up to pull down the visor on his truck cutting down the glare from the setting sun. He drove down the dirt road toward his home singing along to the radio and tapping his foot in time to the music. His old body was stiff and ached a bit, sitting all day at a table telling fortunes could be hard on a man getting up in years.
The truck wheezed a bit as it started up the steep slope of the driveway leading up to the front of his small country house. The truck, much like its owner, had seen better days. Pressing the emergency brake down to prevent his vehicle from making an unscheduled trip back down the hill without him Caleb stepped outside drinking in the cool evening air. He caught just a whiff of the smell of dinner coming from inside the house.
It had been a pretty good day at the festival, now in its fifth week, and he had turned a tidy profit from the gullibility of strangers. The gravel of the driveway crunched underfoot as he started walking toward the front porch, but he stopped suddenly halfway to the first step leading up to the door.
His head came around; something had grabbed at his attention, a swift movement in the corner of his eye.
"Who's there? Hello?" called Caleb to the darkness.
No sound came back to him except for the chirping of crickets and the distant rumble of a train in the direction of the nearby town where he and his wife sometimes shopped. Turning back toward the house Caleb was prepared to shrug off the feeling, his stomach rumbled, and he was ready for some grub and a good nights sleep. He lifted one foot when a sharp chill shot up his back and an all too familiar presence appeared right in front of him.
Caleb sucked in his breath as the dark shape coalesced in his path. It was indistinct, like a piece of the night had broken away and formed a slightly darker space apart from itself, just a bit of movement as it seemed to sway slightly back and forth.
"What do you want now?" said Caleb with a hint of weariness in his voice.
If this apparition replied it was in a voice only Caleb could hear because no sound joined the others.
"I gave you what you wanted isn't that enough?" asked Caleb, frustration evident in his face.
Once again there was no audible sound from the dark shape, but Caleb's face fell, and his eyes squinted with angry tension.
"No! That boy has done enough, I won't take from him anymore," said Caleb.
Caleb took a hasty step back as the dark shape swelled in size towering over him. The air crackled with tension.
"I know what I owe I haven't forgotten," said the old Gypsy solemnly. He lowered his eye to the ground.
"I'll see you get what you need, soon, just be patient," whispered Caleb.
"Caleb? Who are you talking too?" came his wife's voice.
The tension in the air faded as Caleb raised his head to see his wife standing on the edge of the porch, her face showing a look of concern. His eyes darted around but of the dark shape that a moment before had almost blotted out the night sky there was no sign.
"No one Dear, just muttering to myself, we old men do that from time to time," said Caleb with a forced chuckle.
"Well then get your senile ass in this house and have some supper. I didn't slave over this stove for nothing," she said, turning on her heel and walking back inside.
Climbing the steps Caleb paused at the top and looked back into the forest watching the trees move slowly with the first stiff breeze of the evening. He thought for just a moment he caught a hint of something darker moving at the edge of the tree line, but he couldn't be sure.
"Please, let this be the last time," whispered Caleb, before he too walked into the house.
THE PETER'S HOUSE -
"Roland! Your Mom is supposed to be home any minute, don't start something we can't finish," said Patty Gentry as she pulled free from her boyfriend's clutches. Roland took a step back an abashed look covering his features like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
"Gosh, Patty, I can't help it if you're so freaking cute," said Roland smiling as he moved in again trying to embrace her and extract a kiss or three. Preferably a situation that would escalate into some serious bedroom gymnastics.
"Besides my Mom drives like a snail she probably won't be here for hours," Roland began, only to have his words cut short by the ringing of the doorbell.
Patty raised one eyebrow in an "I told you so," look before walking to the door to answer it. The sudden babble of voices that caught Roland's attention indicated that his mother had not arrived alone. He followed in Patty's wake to the door pushing it open wider to reveal his Mother in the company of three other younger adults.
"Rollie! Look who decided to come back with me for a visit," said Roland's mother as she beamed at him from the porch.
Roland's face was lit by a smile of affection as he moved forward to embrace a tall male figure standing just behind his mother.
"Cousin Jason! It's so good to see you!" cried Roland with surprise.
Jason Peters was the only child of Roland's Aunt Gloria, his Mom's sister, a lean and athletic looking young man four years Roland's senior he stood several inches taller as well. His dark brown hair was combed straight back off his broad forehead and fell to the nape of his neck. His sharp features and forest green eyes gave him something of the appearance of a predatory bird yet he was handsome enough to have been voted Home Coming King his senior year of high school.
"Good to see you too, Rollie," said Jason as he clapped the smaller man on the back.
Just behind Jason stood two women who couldn't have been more different in appearance. The shorter of the two, who stepped around Jason for her hug, stood barely over five-foot tall with honey blond hair cut very short and parted on one side giving her a bit of a little boy aspect.
"Teresa!" said Roland as he greeted her warmly.
Teresa Butler had been Jason's girlfriend since high school, coming barely to his chest the two had made an adorable couple as they walked the hallways back then. Teresa had been a swimmer in school and still had a body made tight from laps across the pool. Though she wasn't big in the chest her perky breasts fit her stature perfectly and looked nice outlined against the silk blouse she wore.
Still feeling Teresa's warm body against his Roland's eyes fell on the last one in the group and he swallowed a little nervousness as he broke free to reach out toward her.
Kim LaFleur had been everyone's crush back in the day and the years had done nothing to dim that beauty. Teresa's best friend, the two had been inseparable since grade school. Kim's father was a French businessman who had met her mother while on a trip to Thailand. This gave Kim the advantage of mixed ancestry that had produced a perfect blend of the two cultures. Unlike many Asian women, Kim was tall missing six-feet by just an inch. She disdained makeup but didn't need it. Her skin was almost flawless with just a hint of light colored freckles on her upper cheeks and across the bridge of her nose. As her face broke into a smile revealing rows of perfect white teeth Roland couldn't help but admire her soft looking full lips that were a mocha color that matched her skin.
"Kim, it's been ages," said Roland, feeling her large, round breasts that neatly stretched the top of her t-shirt pressing into him as he hugged her.
