Christmas.
The boardwalk was cluttered with people. A Ferris wheel loomed above everything, its blinking red, green, and blue lights acting as a beacon for those looking to release the stress of their daily grind. The air stunk of rotting seaweed, fish, stale beer, and vomit, but to little Kyra, the combination was almost appealing. These were the smells of her favorite time of year, after all. And if she loved one part, she wanted to love it all.
The Beatles were playing on the PA system, piped through speakers attached to telephone poles, but you could barely hear the music over the clatter of raucous laughter. Small groups gathered on picnic tables while others watched people take part in the strong-man competition. All around there were wooden shacks covered with canvas, and still more people congregated in front of those, trying their best to win a cheap stuffed toy by throwing a ring over a bottle, shooting a cardboard duck, or trying to toss a beanbag into a small hole. Both successes and failures were greeted with the same response—cackling and back-slapping. Kyra’s grin stretched across her face. She was in heaven.
“Oh shit,” muttered Stacey as she licked the last of her cotton candy from its cardboard tube. The three girls had been sitting on a brick cascade, staring out at the darkening water.
“What’s up, sis?” Kyra asked.
Stacey glanced desperately at her watch. “Julie’s mom said she’d be here at eight, and it’s freaking seven-thirty. Why
eight o’clock
, anyway? Can’t it be a little longer? Julie, why’s your mom gotta be such an asshole?”
Julie grinned while she swung her skinny legs back and forth. “Dunno. She’s my mom.”
“Well, looks like no Scrambler today,” Stacey said with a huff. “Look at the friggin’ line! By the time we got on she’d be here.”
“Can we just walk?” asked Kyra. She didn’t understand why her sister got upset and swore all the time. It didn’t make sense, and besides, she was getting a little tired.
“That sounds good to me,” said Julie, rolling her eyes.
Stacey shook her head. “Fine. Whatever. There ain’t nothing else to do in this shithole, anyway.”
The three of them strolled down the boardwalk. Stacey kept to the front, her head swiveling from side to side, her expression dour. Kyra and Julie followed a few steps behind, walking hand-in-hand. They passed the booths and the smiling people who stood in front of them. Kyra’s mood started to change. Perhaps it was a result of her sister’s irritation, or maybe the fact that her stomach was rumbling, seeing as Stacey had hijacked her tokens and spent them all on herself. Either way, it didn’t matter. All sheknew was that the carnival goers didn’t seem so jovial anymore. Their smiles took on dark, sinister qualities, as if each and every person was hiding a deep, threatening secret. She noticed many older men glancing in their direction and quickly turned her head, leery of the odd, invasive look in their eyes. A shiver racked her body even though the evening was hot and muggy. All of a sudden she just wanted Julie’s mom to show up, and quick.
They circled around and crossed the walk, heading back for the parking lot. At that point there were still many people flooding into the party and very few leaving. The farther they moved away from the carnival, the thinner the crowd became, which served her just fine.
Everything grew quiet, with the exception of the roiling waves and the wind. Even Stacey had ceased her tireless stream of obscenities. She stared out at the ocean as she walked, squinting. Kyra followed her sister’s gaze, and caught sight of something strange.
At first she thought it was a sand dune that had sprouted up in the middle of the beach, but as they got closer she noticed it was actually a small tent. Kyra stopped in her tracks and her eyes locked on it. Her head tilted sideways as the moonlight slowly diffused, bringing the tent into focus. The
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