Eclipse of Evil

ECLIPSE OF EVIL PART 6

CHAPTER VI

She exploded like ladyfingers of excitement, rushing from one ride to another, from one booth to another.

"For crying out loud, Tammy, stand still. You're making me dizzy," Cory said, exasperated. He was fleet, but when he turned at the slightest distraction, she slipped from him like a frantic chicken. Enjoying himself was a moronic notion.

"Oh, Cory, let's ride on the Ferris wheel. I've never been on one of those either," Tammy pleaded. Her eyes glistened like black marbles
in the sun, and her face was uplifted as if she prayed to the metal contraption.

"Let's nothing. That's the fastest open Ferris I ever saw. You take your seat, and I'll take mine. Do you realize you perforated my right ear with your peerless, superhuman screams? I endured them in the swings, the torpedo, and the tumbler. But your screams on the bumper cars rendered permanent deafness to one ear, a thankless payment for my help."

"But, Cory, it's so much fun with you. You're supposed to watch over me, remember?"

"You'll be perfectly safe up there, and my ears will be perfectly safe down here as I watch you scream until heaven cries."

"Oh, come on, Cory. Please!" she cried, prodding him with the sweet expression of helplessness that spurred Cory's protective drive.

This same expression moved him to indulge her every whim since they arrived at the carnival. After all, the poor girl was fun-starved. However, something more compelling made him join her on the Ferris wheel. Eyes, eyes everywhere they went, appraised Tammy. The cousins left some behind on a dumpy creature below, too eager for the same seat. At the moment Tammy's shrill tooting began, Cory felt like chucking the Indian doll with trinkets on a one-way ride to Neptune. Her piercing cries intensified each time their seat reached the summit and plunged down. A hapless mountaineer entered his thoughts.

The wheel jammed to a stop, releasing passengers below as the two rocked dangerously above on the open seat with only a bar for
protection. This thing should be outlawed, Cory thought, wondering why or if it ever passed inspection. His nerves would soon send him to the asylum.

The operator opened the bar, and Cory stepped out, gave a hand to Tammy, and noticed ponderous print molded on the girders that read, "Millstone Wheel." No wonder, Cory mused, but his thoughts abruptly turned toward Tammy who clung to his arm as terrified joy flushed her face. Her trembling merrily tinkled the bright beads, calling attention to a wide young man. He smiled dreamily at an oblivious Tammy as if she were a celestial apparition.

"Come on, Tammy. Move it!" Cory commanded.

"I can hardly walk," she said in a small, hurt voice, muted from screams. "First you want me to slow down, and now you want me to hurry."

"It's those guys," Cory explained between teeth. "They're looking at you because of those stupid beads. Why did you have to attract the whole world with that gipsy outfit?"

"They're not stupid," Tammy snapped, "and I don't see anyone looking at us."

"Of course not, you're so naïve. Hey wait!"

Tammy zipped straight through a crowd to a gaudy booth ahead, suddenly cured of her disability. Cory darted after her and nearly
collided into a cotton-candy haired woman who ejected from a waiting line and disappeared into another. He finally reached the elusive girl.

"Isn't that silly, Cory?" she asked, laughing and pointing to a gargoyle, rubber face, protruding from a running rubber belt along a wood ceiling above. Below rows of brightly colored balloons were attached to strings running into holes punctured in the counter top. Along the counter was a row of polished silver scissors with mythical animals and birds inscribed in the bulbous handles.

"For two tickets you get two tries," said a man behind the counter, who had a Tinker-toy build and Chihuahua eyes that voraciously ate the two tickets in Tammy's uplifted hand. He snatched them without a protest from her. "Cut the balloons and bust a face, and you get one of these free," he said, waving one scissors. "Red and gold are usually lucky colors," he added, whispering and smiling.

"You should cut a pink one," Cory advised, resenting the man whom he believed was swindling a gullible girl.

She snapped a red one that popped against a spike, interrupting the faces. The man giggled nervously.

"Cut the blue!" Cory demanded, angry with the swindler and the foolish girl, who ignored his protests. An unkempt man drunkenly straggled to the counter from the opposite line and gazed at Tammy. Cory nervously watched the grinning man who scratched an unshaven face.

"I did it! I did it! I popped a face!" Tammy shrieked, repeatedly performing a jack-in-the-box stunt.

"Here's a pretty scissors for a pretty winner," the living Tinker-toy said, gallantly handing her one.

Cory yanked her away, but she hardly minded for her eyes were glued to the prize. "It was a gold balloon just as he said!" Tammy cried, beaming.

"Oh, I'm sure."

They wound through a medley of carnival folk as Tammy babbled about her win. A lumpy lady in a tent-like dress distracted Cory. She wore an enormous, drooping hat crowned with two pink flamingos. She probably won that article at another ridiculous contest, Cory thought. I'll make sure Tammy stays away from that booth. He turned for Tammy and found her gone.