Four Corners Dark: Horror Stories (16 page)

What do you mean slow it down?” John asked.

“John, there is no cure,” Alvin said. “We can only postpone the effects of the disease.”

“Slow down for how long?” John said voice cracking. “Tommy needs me.”

“John. At best you will have a few years, one or two living independently.” Alvin cleared his throat. “You need to make arrangements for Tommy as soon as possible, while you are still capable.”

Alvin stood up from behind his desk.

“Let me drive you home,” Alvin said.

I am perfectly fine to drive myself,” John answered quietly. “I got here, didn’t I?”

John left Alvin’s office closing the door behind him.

On the drive home, he passed Marconi’s Liquor Store and thought about stopping. His drinking had gotten bad when Mary fell ill, but he promised to quit and focus on Tommy. What would he do now? He had no family left to speak of, and all of his friends were too old to take on Tommy. He couldn’t end up in Oak Hurst. The place was unfit for the living. He and Mary had visited the facility years before, and found it dark and melancholy with the patients housed like medicated zombies.

The cold air whistled past a broken window vent as he drove home. He turned up the heat, the old car’s heater still worked well enough to toast bread. He put the car in neutral and coasted around the last bend before his house. Tommy always loved coasting, so John would let the car roll down the hill and up the driveway. He rolled halfway up and put the car in park, then took a deep breath and prepared himself. Tommy was very perceptive to John’s feelings and he didn’t want to alarm him.

CHAPTER FOUR

“H
ey, Tommy Boy. What’s happening?” John said as he walked into the living room.

Betty was sleeping on the couch. Casey was sleeping at her feet.

“Hi, Daddy,” Tommy said.

The entire living room floor was covered in plastic block buildings, cars and people. It was an incredible site that stretched to the kitchen door. The rides were moving and the park was brilliantly lit. Tiny block people congregated everywhere. The black plastic hat of Mr. Adams shined under an unseen spotlight at the center of the carnival.

John shook Betty’s shoulder.

“Daddy, you like?” Tommy asked.

“I do son, I do,” John answered.

Betty woke with a start and looked dazed for a few seconds.

“Oh, my goodness,” she said. “Did I fall asleep? Is everything okay?”

“Yes, everything is fine,” John said.

Betty put on a pair of glasses hanging around her neck.

“Sakes alive,” she exclaimed. “Where did this all come from?”

“Betty, I built it. I built it all,” Tommy said proudly.

“But, how?” she asked, looking alarmed and turning to John. “How long was I sleeping?”

“Not long, I’ve only been gone for an hour or so,” John answered. “Can I speak with you for a minute? In the kitchen?”

Betty followed John into the kitchen.

“Betty, I am very concerned,” John said.

“I’m sorry. I just dozed off,” she answered.

“That’s not what I meant,” John said. “I am concerned about Tommy.”

“Did anyone come in while I was gone?” John asked.

Betty looked flustered.

“Not that I was aware of,” she answered. “But someone must have brought him all of that,” she said.

“Yes, I realize that,” John said. “This has been going on for the past few days and I haven’t seen anyone. Tommy tells me he is building it all.”

“It is not like Tommy to lie,” Betty said.

“I know that,” John replied.

They walked back into the living room and the oak kitchen door swung shut behind them.

“Look, Daddy. I built a ball park where Mights play baseball,” Tommy said.

The stadium was built entirely of black plastic blocks and it stretched across the entry way to the front door.

“This was not here when I came in,” John said.

“No, it wasn’t,” Betty agreed. Her voice was strained.

John’s mind reeled as he studied the stadium.

“Must be a thousand black blocks right there,” John said pointing at the stadium.

He looked across the room at Betty.

“He just has the one set of blocks. One set.”

John stepped over the stadium and checked the front door. It was locked.

“Why is the stadium black,” Betty asked John.

“Nighttime Betty, lights don’t work no more,” Tommy answered.

“Why don’t the light work? Betty asked.

“Lights won’t work on account of the lightning,” Tommy answered.

“Oh, I see,” Betty said looking confused.

John said, “Betty, maybe you could leave us alone.”

“Sure, John. If you need anything, I’m right next door.” Betty maneuvered past the stadium to the front door.

John sat down on his well-worn couch. He had forgotten about his visit with Alvin this morning, but the feelings of panic and helplessness returned. He watched his grown son play on the floor with Casey beside him, and picked up a white envelope sitting on the coffee table. The envelope contained two tickets to the baseball game with a picture of Grantham field printed on them. The picture of the stadium was identical to Tommy’s creation looming in the entryway.

He felt his shirt pocket and pulled out the prescriptions Alvin wrote for him.

“Tommy Boy, let’s take a ride to the drugstore,” John said.

Tommy sat with his back to John, too busy to answer.

“Tommy?” John said again.

Tommy turned as if waking from a dream.

“Let’s take a ride to the drug store,” John said again.

“Okay, Daddy. We come home again fast. Mr. Adams needs carnival all done tonight,” Tommy answered.

“He does, does he?” John said. “Well we better get moving then.”

John got Tommy out the front door and on the way to Doc’s Pharmacy. The clouds were painted with charcoal hues and the fallen leaves scattered as they drove along the country road to town. John didn’t really understand what worry was until Alvin explained it to him this morning. The slide was inevitable and within a short time the quiet life he enjoyed with his son would be destroyed. Alvin had made that painfully clear. His social security and pension wouldn’t pay for private care and Mary’s illness had cost them their life’s savings. He and Tommy would both be institutionalized. His would be a short stay but Tommy would be serving a life sentence in the grim state-run home.

He parked on a side street behind Doc’s and got out of the car, then zipped Tommy’s jacket up and braced against the cold air.

“There you go, Tommy Boy, no use catching a cold on the way to the pharmacy.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Tommy always agreed and never gave John a minute of trouble. He simply enjoyed the moment he lived in.

“Hey, John. Tommy. How’s your day going?” Henry asked.

Henry was behind the pharmacy counter stocking the shelves with the sleeves of his white coat rolled up.

“Hi, Henry.” John handed him the prescriptions. “Need to pick these up.”

“Sure thing, John.” Henry read the prescriptions and left the counter without saying another word.

Tommy wandered the toy aisles examining the colorful boxes. A few minutes had passed when Henry returned from the back room. The prescriptions were stapled in neat white bags. He started to speak and stopped, looking sadly at Tommy.

“John, do you have any questions about your medication?”

“No, no I don’t.” John answered.

“Well, my home number’s on the bag. Please do not hesitate to call if you need anything.”

“I will. Thanks, Henry.”

John and Tommy left the pharmacy and went to the car. Tommy walked like a man on a mission, which was quite unlike him. He usually liked to make the rounds while visiting the square. John looked up at the darkening sky.

“Might get rained out tonight, Tommy,” John said.

Tommy stood next to the car and surveyed the sky.

“Yes, Daddy. We have lightning tonight,” Tommy answered.

CHAPTER FIVE

T
ommy went back to work on the carnival the moment they arrived home. John sat on the couch and switched on the local news, a reporter was covering a local event with a series of colorful tents being erected behind her. The camera panned out and John saw the sprawling carnival with its grounds decorated in elaborate lights and vintage rides from another time. Tommy’s carnival on the floor of the living room was an exact replica of the image John saw on his Zenith.

He picked up the remote control and turned up the sound, the reporter was interviewing a man identified as R.G. Adams. The man wore a black tuxedo and top hat. His beard and moustache were waxed to perfect points, and he carried a cane with a silver handle.

Tommy turned to his father and said, “Mr. Adams, Daddy.”

John watched intently as Adams opened his arms in an exaggerated gesture of welcome.

“Looks like some show, Tommy Boy,” John said. “I guess you must have seen this on the news?”

“No, Daddy. Don’t like news,” Tommy answered.

The reporter appeared on the TV again. The caption read: Mystery carnival surprises local authorities.

John stood and switched the TV off, standing in the middle of the block carnival like a giant.

“What do you say we skip the game tonight and pay your Mr. Adams a visit?” John asked.

“Yes, Daddy,” Tommy answered. “Game gonna be cancelled anyhow. On account of the lightning.”

“Of course it is, Tommy,” John said with a nod.

John looked at the black block stadium then picked up the phone and dialed.

“Hello, this is Darla, can I help you?”

“Hey, Darla, this is John Roberts. How you doin?” John asked.

“Just fine. How have you and Tommy been? Haven’t sent y’all out at the park lately,” Darla said.

“Well, we were planning to come out tonight, but we may end up going to that carnival instead,” John said.

“Ain’t that the strangest thing the way that carnival just blew into town?” Darla asked. “Just popped up overnight. No one even saw them drive in.”

“Yes,” John said hesitantly, looking at Tommy’s carnival. “Strange it is. Darla, the reason I was calling was to see if the game was on tonight.”

“So far,” Darla answered. “But the sky is clouding up and the wind is swirling a bit. Looks like we might be in for some bad weather.”

“Thanks,” John said.

John hung up the phone and said, “Tommy, do you want to get going in a few minutes?”

Tommy looked up and said, “Sure, Daddy. All done now.”

John stepped over the carnival and went up to his bedroom to change clothes. The closet he shared with Mary was still filled with her clothes. He freshened up and pulled a sweater over his head then picked up the bag containing his prescriptions. A “Living with Alzheimer’s” flyer was tucked inside. He left the medicine unopened on the counter. He would start his decline tomorrow. Tonight he needed to understand the connection between his son and the odd carnival.

Tommy was waiting by the front door when he walked down the staircase. His eyes were alive and he had a broad smile on his face. Without a word they left and drove along Red Mountain Road towards the fairgrounds. The old Dodge’s engine whined as they reached the top of the hill and the spectacle of the carnival unfolded below them. The lights of a spinning Ferris wheel cut through the darkness. John slowed and turned into an empty dirt parking lot as lightning flashed and illuminated a black sky.

“Better hurry, Tommy. We might get rained out,” John said.

“Okay, Daddy,” Tommy said.

They walked through the brilliant entrance of the carnival where thousands of tiny bulbs were strung along metal poles. The rides were spinning and twirling, but the carnival was empty.

Tommy began to run. “There, Daddy.”

He pointed at an ornate carousel with a painted mosaic of an ancient ocean on its canopy. The carousel was polished to a mirror shine and wooden horses gleamed in the light of the moon. Tommy reached the carousel and climbed onto the back of a white horse trimmed in gold. John caught up to him and stopped to catch his breath.

“Tommy, not sure this ride’s running,” John said.

Tommy put his feet in the stirrups of his wooden steed. The painted eyes of his horse gleamed wildly. The lights suddenly illuminated and the brilliance of the carousel’s detailing came alive. Each horse was hand carved and completely unique from the others. Gold leaf lined the walls and ceiling. John gazed around in awe at the splendor of the carousel.

“Quite a beauty, isn’t she?”

John turned to find a black figure emerging from a door in the center of the carousel.

“Mr. Roberts, welcome,” Mr. Adams said gesturing with a white gloved hand.