paulw
10-15-2009, 02:31 AM
THE FAIR
The ground was littered with paper debris, and the air was filled with yelling. People were leaving their food plates on the ground, and in the bushes, and everywhere else. It was the same with their drinking cups and candy wrappers. Matty didn't like the place as she walked through the rickety gates in her clean clothes, watching the hot wind move the garbage in little gusts. She hadn't gone to the fair in years. Grandpa Stu walked beside her, with a spot of sweet-and-sour sauce from lunch on his shirt, not seeming to care about anything.
It was normal to leave the place with lice, or in need of a tetanus shot, and everyone in town heard the story about the guy who fell out of the Tea Cups and had his arms torn off. Those worries joined forces with the ominous fortune cookie message she'd read earlier in the day to produce a mild feeling of anxiety.
"Others Will See Your Real Self Today" it read. Matty held the small, rectangular piece of paper in her pocket and walked, not completely ignoring it's message. Superstition wasn't something she fell into a lot, but she had a particularly strong and irrational faith in the idea that the Chinese were tapped into something more wise than everyone else.
She scanned around for any people she knew while helping Grandpa out of his hot jacket.
"I don't see anybody here," she said.
"Hmmmmm," Grandpa said.
"Good. I don't like anybody except you, Gramps."
There was vomit on the ground, it was too hot, and the blaring music was harsh and dizzying. There were sights everywhere that seemed unpleasant: When Matty looked left, she saw some guy yelling at a staff member, and when she looked right, she saw a young girl, vomiting against a wall.
Some sort of association with the little girl nearly triggered a memory, so she looked away. A hazy image of carved, wooden breasts entered her mind for a moment, made her wince, and then left.
Matty smiled at the thought of the fair, despite the unpleasantness of it. It took on a positive light as Grandpa's house entered her mind. She wondered how many days she'd been going there now, and how long it had been since they did something other than watch TV.
"What do you wanna do, Grandpa? Stare at the druggy losers?"
They walked and observed, not stopping even for a moment to consider climbing onto a ride. She didn't want Grandpa excited at his age, and she didn't need any excitement either. The less stimulation, the less likelihood that a certain horrible memory would slip into her mind.
It was bothering her a lot back then.
She saw the dreaded image of the wooden breasts again, and winced. She quickly changed her focus, and got it out of her mind.
Matty and Grandpa walked around for a while, but the sites were unusually unpleasant, and Matty's hope for enjoyment began to wane. She bought some hotdogs for the two of them, and by the time she was finished, there was a horrifying realization that even eating wasn't cheering her up.
"This is annoying, Grandpa," she said. People were talking loud, and looking frustrated in lineups, and their children were running around like crazy. It felt more like a circus than a fair.
"Look at that," she said, pointing to the pirate ride. She loved that ride when she was younger. It consisted of a large pirate ship, hanging from two bars, and the whole thing would swing back and forth in a half circle. The bottom of it would swing through a lowered pit area.
Unfortunately, before she could stop it from happening, the ship unleashed her memory.
She was taken back to the early 90's, when the pirate ride looked very different. There used to be a wooden sculpture of a big-breasted nude woman, and it acted as the ship's figurehead at the front. But it was gone now, leaving only a big, pointed prow, and nothing else. She remembered a moment back in the old days when she and her cousin Jane were making fun of her little sister Sarah because she didn't have breasts. Matty winced as she thought of this. Once, when they were at the fair, they compared Sarah to the pirate ship figurehead and laughed, and then Sarah bawled her eyes out because a boy she liked was nearby. He overheard the whole thing, and then when she got back to school on Monday the kids started saying that she was on the "Itty Bitty Titty Committee".
Anyways, Sarah was doing fine now, apparently. Matty hadn't spoken to her in a while. She wasn't on crack anymore at least.
"Hmmm," said Grandpa.
Matty had a horrible feeling. It seemed that the figurehead incident was part of the "Real Self" that others would see. She never told anybody in her family about that pirate ship memory. Matty feared that Sarah's status as the hated black sheep might turn into victim status, and Matty would turn into the awful monster of the family. Childhood was a horrible thing to remember sometimes, she thought, especially when you didn't falsely blame your evil on hormones.
She batted away the memory of Sarah again, feeling annoyed that it slipped into her mind for such a long time. She wondered how she could forget about that day for good.
They walked around some more, and then sat for a bit, over near the edge of the fair, staring passed the unused fairgrounds and up into the mountains. It was a nice, quiet place to reflect.
"Real Self," she thought to herself. What did that mean? Which action defined her? She thought it was a bit arbitrary for one event or memory to define her, instead of any other. Why should her little-sister-incident define her? What about the good things she'd done? Like when she would take care of Grandpa. She supposed it was up to fate and society to choose which characteristic was most important. People tended to judge her by the last thing she did, and then everything else would be forgotten, unless rudely brought back (or thankfully brought back, depending on the circumstances).
Matty looked to Grandpa. He was sitting with her, running his hand over the grass. It was just about time to go home.
They walked alongside the pirate ride, heading for the gates, but stopped because Grandpa's shoes were untied. "Let me get that for you," she said, leaning down. When she finished tying, she jumped back up, and felt a hard thump on the back of her head. It was Grandpa, who had also leaned down. The back of her head smashed his face and he stumbled backwards.
"Oh no!" she said, quick to show her apologies. He stumbled backwards a bit more, this time right into the metal fence, which was wrapped around the pit. It opened up, to Matty's horror, and Grandpa Stu fell backwards, right into the bottom of the pirate ride. She could hear his body slam into the ground.
"Grandpa!!"
Matty ran to the edge of the pit, right as the ship flew passed her Grandpa, missing him by a foot or two. He was laying on his front, seven feet below, and his cane was nearby. At first he looked dead, but then he rolled over, with an inappropriately calm look on his face. Matty wondered if he was safe.
If he stayed parallel to the ship, then he'd be safe.
"Oh my god," Matty said to herself, getting dizzy from the height. She was terrible with heights, and had to step back a bit. "Grandpa, don't move. I'm gonna get help." She looked over to the pirate-ride's lineup to see if anyone noticed. The lineup was on the other side of the pit, and there was barely anyone there. Just a couple of teenage girls, and both of them were looking the other way, examining the bumper cars. The operator was hidden behind a blue operator station.
Images of the swinging pirate ship filled her mind. In a horrible daydream, Matty saw the blunt end of the ship ram Grandpa, destroying his bones, throwing him into the air, and tearing his clothes off in a bloody mess. She saw visions of his old, lifeless body colliding into the ground.
As she was coming out of her vision, she edged a bit closer and looked in. Grandpa was standing, looking around in a complete daze. He was completely unaware.
"Sit down, sit down."
He was standing close to the ship. Too close, Matty thought, for the ride showed no sign of slowing down. Action seemed necessary, but her mind wasn't operating to full capacity under the circumstances..
What to do? There was barely any time for thinking.
It didn't feel smart to go to the operator. If she ran over there, Grandpa might have gotten killed in the meantime. Matty decided that Grandpa had to be dealt with right away.
"Sir," she said to a man who was walking past. The man stopped, and then smiled a "Yes?" gesture with his face. He was average sized, with a black souvenir shirt from Alaska. His children walked beside him, a boy and a girl, both holding cotton candy. Matty wondered if the man could even help her.... he wasn't very masculine or anything. "My Grandpa needs help, please help him."
Matty pointed into the pit, and the man followed her finger.
"Oh no," he said, in a very friendly way. "What's he doing down there?"
"Please, jump down and....keep him safe. He can't think anymore, he fell down there on his own. Please, make sure he doesn't die. Please."
"All right," the man said in a very quick way, impressing Matty with his lack of hesitation. "Sure."
The man readied himself and jumped in, but he jumped a bit too hard, and as he was falling through the air, the ship swung up at him. The ship's rail smashed his face, sending him into a hard back flip. After hitting the ground, he rolled under the swinging ship. At this point his fate was sealed, and to Matty's horror, the ship swung back down onto his screaming body, dragging him under like a piece of roadkill. The man was flattened, and the ship sprayed the floor with his blood. It happened so fast that it was difficult to comprehend at first.
"Oh my god," Matty said. She couldn't believe what she'd seen. Guilt
suddenly filled her stomach.
She barely did anything wrong in her life, so why was this happening to her? Was her "Real Self" someone who caused these things to happen? She wasn't a slut, or an idiot or anything. She hadn't done many bad things, aside from that one incident. Painfully, the Sarah memory climbed back into her mind. She kicked it back out immediately.
She looked to the dead man's children, both of whom were standing away. They were eating cotton candy and looking the other way. "Go tell the operator to stop the ride," she yelled at them. "Go, NOW, and don't look into the pit."
The two of them ran off. She knew what she had to do. Her Grandpa was in the front of the pit, and he was still safe, but if he walked a little closer, then he'd be dead. She couldn't just wait for the children to stop the operator, because the ship might smash him during that time.
Matty waited for the ship to pass, and then jumped in.
As she was falling down, screaming, she saw the Alaska T-Shirt Man's shining, bloody remains slide from beneath the pirate ship. It looked photographs from the Vietnam war. She landed hard right next to it, screaming even more.
Suddenly, much too late, people started noticing what was going on. The beady eyes of creepy, teenage staff members started looking in, along with regular fairgoers. Suddenly, a selfish part of her mind flared up: She felt certain that the situation made her look good. She thought about her horrible memory, and Sarah, and suddenly this whole situation made her feel a little better. There was never going to be a better chance for redemption than saving her Grandpa.
As the fairgoers' frightened screams rose into a chorus, Matty spotted Grandpa. He'd wandered too close, and the ship was beginning to swing towards him. Matty got to her feet, trying to keep the blood away from her hands, and broke into a sprint.
She took four giant steps, then pushed her Grandpa's chest to get him out of the way. He fell backwards hard, hitting the side of the pit, and looked safe. She immediately felt like a hero, and when she looked up, she saw people looking quite happy with her.
What a relief she experienced. She felt as clean as ever, and she expected good things for herself. Saving people's lives could get you in the paper, or on the news broadcasts. And it was so public --- man that made it better. She didn't know for sure, but she thought maybe this was the best possible way to get rid of her memory. She didn't know if she could even remember that Sarah thing anymore. God was forgiving her, it seemed. People who lived like her deserved great things. But those idiots running the fair were going to get their asses sued off.
"Time for the world to see the real me," Matty thought.
The pointed prow of the ship rammed forcefully through her back, bursting from between her breasts, exploding her shirt open in a spray of blood. Her body rose into the air, bare chested, and hung from the prow like a paper on a tack. She let out an anguished gasp, as bloody air forced out of her lungs. The crowd became silent, and as the ship reached it's full swing, it stopped. Her blood poured down onto her Grandpa's head, splashing around him.
There was a lot of pain, and Matty could still look around. She saw the crowd staring at her ugly, hidden insides.
In weakness, her head slumped forwards. As she stared down at the bloody prow sticking from her naked chest, the thoughts of her Grandpa and glory drifted away, and Sarah's crying began echoing through her mind.
The ground was littered with paper debris, and the air was filled with yelling. People were leaving their food plates on the ground, and in the bushes, and everywhere else. It was the same with their drinking cups and candy wrappers. Matty didn't like the place as she walked through the rickety gates in her clean clothes, watching the hot wind move the garbage in little gusts. She hadn't gone to the fair in years. Grandpa Stu walked beside her, with a spot of sweet-and-sour sauce from lunch on his shirt, not seeming to care about anything.
It was normal to leave the place with lice, or in need of a tetanus shot, and everyone in town heard the story about the guy who fell out of the Tea Cups and had his arms torn off. Those worries joined forces with the ominous fortune cookie message she'd read earlier in the day to produce a mild feeling of anxiety.
"Others Will See Your Real Self Today" it read. Matty held the small, rectangular piece of paper in her pocket and walked, not completely ignoring it's message. Superstition wasn't something she fell into a lot, but she had a particularly strong and irrational faith in the idea that the Chinese were tapped into something more wise than everyone else.
She scanned around for any people she knew while helping Grandpa out of his hot jacket.
"I don't see anybody here," she said.
"Hmmmmm," Grandpa said.
"Good. I don't like anybody except you, Gramps."
There was vomit on the ground, it was too hot, and the blaring music was harsh and dizzying. There were sights everywhere that seemed unpleasant: When Matty looked left, she saw some guy yelling at a staff member, and when she looked right, she saw a young girl, vomiting against a wall.
Some sort of association with the little girl nearly triggered a memory, so she looked away. A hazy image of carved, wooden breasts entered her mind for a moment, made her wince, and then left.
Matty smiled at the thought of the fair, despite the unpleasantness of it. It took on a positive light as Grandpa's house entered her mind. She wondered how many days she'd been going there now, and how long it had been since they did something other than watch TV.
"What do you wanna do, Grandpa? Stare at the druggy losers?"
They walked and observed, not stopping even for a moment to consider climbing onto a ride. She didn't want Grandpa excited at his age, and she didn't need any excitement either. The less stimulation, the less likelihood that a certain horrible memory would slip into her mind.
It was bothering her a lot back then.
She saw the dreaded image of the wooden breasts again, and winced. She quickly changed her focus, and got it out of her mind.
Matty and Grandpa walked around for a while, but the sites were unusually unpleasant, and Matty's hope for enjoyment began to wane. She bought some hotdogs for the two of them, and by the time she was finished, there was a horrifying realization that even eating wasn't cheering her up.
"This is annoying, Grandpa," she said. People were talking loud, and looking frustrated in lineups, and their children were running around like crazy. It felt more like a circus than a fair.
"Look at that," she said, pointing to the pirate ride. She loved that ride when she was younger. It consisted of a large pirate ship, hanging from two bars, and the whole thing would swing back and forth in a half circle. The bottom of it would swing through a lowered pit area.
Unfortunately, before she could stop it from happening, the ship unleashed her memory.
She was taken back to the early 90's, when the pirate ride looked very different. There used to be a wooden sculpture of a big-breasted nude woman, and it acted as the ship's figurehead at the front. But it was gone now, leaving only a big, pointed prow, and nothing else. She remembered a moment back in the old days when she and her cousin Jane were making fun of her little sister Sarah because she didn't have breasts. Matty winced as she thought of this. Once, when they were at the fair, they compared Sarah to the pirate ship figurehead and laughed, and then Sarah bawled her eyes out because a boy she liked was nearby. He overheard the whole thing, and then when she got back to school on Monday the kids started saying that she was on the "Itty Bitty Titty Committee".
Anyways, Sarah was doing fine now, apparently. Matty hadn't spoken to her in a while. She wasn't on crack anymore at least.
"Hmmm," said Grandpa.
Matty had a horrible feeling. It seemed that the figurehead incident was part of the "Real Self" that others would see. She never told anybody in her family about that pirate ship memory. Matty feared that Sarah's status as the hated black sheep might turn into victim status, and Matty would turn into the awful monster of the family. Childhood was a horrible thing to remember sometimes, she thought, especially when you didn't falsely blame your evil on hormones.
She batted away the memory of Sarah again, feeling annoyed that it slipped into her mind for such a long time. She wondered how she could forget about that day for good.
They walked around some more, and then sat for a bit, over near the edge of the fair, staring passed the unused fairgrounds and up into the mountains. It was a nice, quiet place to reflect.
"Real Self," she thought to herself. What did that mean? Which action defined her? She thought it was a bit arbitrary for one event or memory to define her, instead of any other. Why should her little-sister-incident define her? What about the good things she'd done? Like when she would take care of Grandpa. She supposed it was up to fate and society to choose which characteristic was most important. People tended to judge her by the last thing she did, and then everything else would be forgotten, unless rudely brought back (or thankfully brought back, depending on the circumstances).
Matty looked to Grandpa. He was sitting with her, running his hand over the grass. It was just about time to go home.
They walked alongside the pirate ride, heading for the gates, but stopped because Grandpa's shoes were untied. "Let me get that for you," she said, leaning down. When she finished tying, she jumped back up, and felt a hard thump on the back of her head. It was Grandpa, who had also leaned down. The back of her head smashed his face and he stumbled backwards.
"Oh no!" she said, quick to show her apologies. He stumbled backwards a bit more, this time right into the metal fence, which was wrapped around the pit. It opened up, to Matty's horror, and Grandpa Stu fell backwards, right into the bottom of the pirate ride. She could hear his body slam into the ground.
"Grandpa!!"
Matty ran to the edge of the pit, right as the ship flew passed her Grandpa, missing him by a foot or two. He was laying on his front, seven feet below, and his cane was nearby. At first he looked dead, but then he rolled over, with an inappropriately calm look on his face. Matty wondered if he was safe.
If he stayed parallel to the ship, then he'd be safe.
"Oh my god," Matty said to herself, getting dizzy from the height. She was terrible with heights, and had to step back a bit. "Grandpa, don't move. I'm gonna get help." She looked over to the pirate-ride's lineup to see if anyone noticed. The lineup was on the other side of the pit, and there was barely anyone there. Just a couple of teenage girls, and both of them were looking the other way, examining the bumper cars. The operator was hidden behind a blue operator station.
Images of the swinging pirate ship filled her mind. In a horrible daydream, Matty saw the blunt end of the ship ram Grandpa, destroying his bones, throwing him into the air, and tearing his clothes off in a bloody mess. She saw visions of his old, lifeless body colliding into the ground.
As she was coming out of her vision, she edged a bit closer and looked in. Grandpa was standing, looking around in a complete daze. He was completely unaware.
"Sit down, sit down."
He was standing close to the ship. Too close, Matty thought, for the ride showed no sign of slowing down. Action seemed necessary, but her mind wasn't operating to full capacity under the circumstances..
What to do? There was barely any time for thinking.
It didn't feel smart to go to the operator. If she ran over there, Grandpa might have gotten killed in the meantime. Matty decided that Grandpa had to be dealt with right away.
"Sir," she said to a man who was walking past. The man stopped, and then smiled a "Yes?" gesture with his face. He was average sized, with a black souvenir shirt from Alaska. His children walked beside him, a boy and a girl, both holding cotton candy. Matty wondered if the man could even help her.... he wasn't very masculine or anything. "My Grandpa needs help, please help him."
Matty pointed into the pit, and the man followed her finger.
"Oh no," he said, in a very friendly way. "What's he doing down there?"
"Please, jump down and....keep him safe. He can't think anymore, he fell down there on his own. Please, make sure he doesn't die. Please."
"All right," the man said in a very quick way, impressing Matty with his lack of hesitation. "Sure."
The man readied himself and jumped in, but he jumped a bit too hard, and as he was falling through the air, the ship swung up at him. The ship's rail smashed his face, sending him into a hard back flip. After hitting the ground, he rolled under the swinging ship. At this point his fate was sealed, and to Matty's horror, the ship swung back down onto his screaming body, dragging him under like a piece of roadkill. The man was flattened, and the ship sprayed the floor with his blood. It happened so fast that it was difficult to comprehend at first.
"Oh my god," Matty said. She couldn't believe what she'd seen. Guilt
suddenly filled her stomach.
She barely did anything wrong in her life, so why was this happening to her? Was her "Real Self" someone who caused these things to happen? She wasn't a slut, or an idiot or anything. She hadn't done many bad things, aside from that one incident. Painfully, the Sarah memory climbed back into her mind. She kicked it back out immediately.
She looked to the dead man's children, both of whom were standing away. They were eating cotton candy and looking the other way. "Go tell the operator to stop the ride," she yelled at them. "Go, NOW, and don't look into the pit."
The two of them ran off. She knew what she had to do. Her Grandpa was in the front of the pit, and he was still safe, but if he walked a little closer, then he'd be dead. She couldn't just wait for the children to stop the operator, because the ship might smash him during that time.
Matty waited for the ship to pass, and then jumped in.
As she was falling down, screaming, she saw the Alaska T-Shirt Man's shining, bloody remains slide from beneath the pirate ship. It looked photographs from the Vietnam war. She landed hard right next to it, screaming even more.
Suddenly, much too late, people started noticing what was going on. The beady eyes of creepy, teenage staff members started looking in, along with regular fairgoers. Suddenly, a selfish part of her mind flared up: She felt certain that the situation made her look good. She thought about her horrible memory, and Sarah, and suddenly this whole situation made her feel a little better. There was never going to be a better chance for redemption than saving her Grandpa.
As the fairgoers' frightened screams rose into a chorus, Matty spotted Grandpa. He'd wandered too close, and the ship was beginning to swing towards him. Matty got to her feet, trying to keep the blood away from her hands, and broke into a sprint.
She took four giant steps, then pushed her Grandpa's chest to get him out of the way. He fell backwards hard, hitting the side of the pit, and looked safe. She immediately felt like a hero, and when she looked up, she saw people looking quite happy with her.
What a relief she experienced. She felt as clean as ever, and she expected good things for herself. Saving people's lives could get you in the paper, or on the news broadcasts. And it was so public --- man that made it better. She didn't know for sure, but she thought maybe this was the best possible way to get rid of her memory. She didn't know if she could even remember that Sarah thing anymore. God was forgiving her, it seemed. People who lived like her deserved great things. But those idiots running the fair were going to get their asses sued off.
"Time for the world to see the real me," Matty thought.
The pointed prow of the ship rammed forcefully through her back, bursting from between her breasts, exploding her shirt open in a spray of blood. Her body rose into the air, bare chested, and hung from the prow like a paper on a tack. She let out an anguished gasp, as bloody air forced out of her lungs. The crowd became silent, and as the ship reached it's full swing, it stopped. Her blood poured down onto her Grandpa's head, splashing around him.
There was a lot of pain, and Matty could still look around. She saw the crowd staring at her ugly, hidden insides.
In weakness, her head slumped forwards. As she stared down at the bloody prow sticking from her naked chest, the thoughts of her Grandpa and glory drifted away, and Sarah's crying began echoing through her mind.