Fairground

Joshua Peters isn't bad or strange. He just cares too much about Ben Bailey.

I.

By no means was Joshua any different from the little Indiana town he lived it.  Some days were sweltering or icy, and some days were just fine, and in all perspective such was the life of Joshua Peters.

No matter what weather manifested itself in the small talk of the town, it didn't change the actions of the world that engulfed him.  It rose in the morning, slaved at work, and drifted back off to wait for the next day in its routine.  Nobody seemed to mind such monotony; God provided for them and that was enough.

Joshua always found it strange when people said that.  After all, the people talking were the ones that worked hours to earn their living.  God did nothing but give them life.  But no one cared about the opinions of a scrawny 17 year old, so Joshua kept to himself as he studied the grain in the wood of the pews during prayer.

There was an area outside the church that was always dry no matter how much it showered over it.  Every Sunday his mother would stop to talk with the other ladies of the church.  He kicked the dirt as she did so.  The dust balls that flew into the air were mesmerizing.  In effect, the walk home from church was always the same, and she scolded him for soiling his Sunday shoes just as he had every week for the past ten years.

Funny how no one wants change, Joshua had once heard.  He tried to shake the thought out of his head before the bad memories ensued.

By the time his family got home, his brother had already managed to strip off the stuffy shirts and changed into something else.  Joshua drummed his fingers against the tabletop as his mother chased his brother out of the kitchen.  She snapped at Joshua to stop on her way back in.  He started again after a minute of silence.

Summer was starting to rear its unwanted fingers, gripping the sleepy little Indiana town he was trapped in.  It was only during the summer, however, did the place seem to open up its slovenly eyes and smile faintly.  When Joshua got a call from Gloria, her first words were, "D'you think anything will happen this year?"

"Too early to tell," he shrugged.

"You at least coming to the summer carnival in two weeks?"

Joshua studied the plant on the shelf across the room.

"Hello?"

"I might," he sighed.  "We're having dinner now, talk to me later."

"Okay then."  The receiver clicked.

Once his mother speculated his relationships were strange.  Not bad, just strange.  Joshua never felt he was either.  After all, his friends talked the same way.  It was positively mainstream.

He was quiet at dinner as usual, then left to creep up to his room and toss a ragged baseball at the ceiling.  His mother disapproved always when he did that.  He continued to throw it, harder and harder until his sister could hear it downstairs.

There had been a friend of his that he used to see all the time.  Ben Bailey was an athletic boy with thick biceps and a well-shaven face.  He towered over everyone but Joshua, who he only beat by a bare two inches.  They couldn't remember the first time they became friends, just that at one point Ben had threatened to beat Joshua up.  Life has amusing twists in its road.  Joshua pressed his lips together as his ball bounced off the ceiling and rolled under his dresser.

A knock came at his door.  "Is Ben back?" came the voice of the perpetrator.  His little brother had learned no longer when to ask when he would come back.

Joshua held his breath as he thought.  "Not yet."

"How long is it going to take him?"

"However long it takes to go to Oregon, stay for a week and a half, and come back."

"Hasn't he been gone for a month?"

"That's what he said."  Joshua rolled over on his stomach.  Lying wasn't his strong spot.

II.

Joshua liked to get out of bed in the middle of the night and perch himself next to his windowsill.  The chair he always sat in was old, creaking underneath him as he crossed one leg on it and placed his chin on his folded hands.  If he was lucky, there would be a breeze that ruffled his curtains and tickled his body.  If he was even luckier, a stick held by a familiar stranger would bounce against his fence a few times.

The first time Ben Bailey started his midnight escapades was long ago when they tried to run away from their little schoolhouse a mile out.  Now their purpose had changed.

“Joshua!” always came his deep, jesting voice.  He would jump on the fence and grab the tops of two posts.  “Joshua!”

Joshua waved in response.  Ben always managed to climb up to his window.

"Mr. Whitman cut down the tree in the left of his house," Ben once said as he entered Joshua's room, "so I got a new stick to hit your fence with."  He smiled proudly, like a stick was the most prestigious thing he had ever received.

Joshua returned the favor, grinning as he patted Ben’s arm in congratulations.  Ben let out a slow breath as the corners of his face softened.  Joshua’s fingers lingered on his shirt.

If he was being honest, he missed Ben’s smile, if even just slightly.

III.

“I haven’t seen you in ages!”  Gloria grabbed onto Joshua’s sleeve, laughing as she pulled him into the fairgrounds.  Already it was littered with wrappers and paper, stray tickets mingling with the other lost items.  As the sun grew dimmer and dimmer the sensory overload already present heightened.  Joshua found himself lost in the sea of sharp, colliding voices as various smells met his nose.  If he listened close enough, he could hear the merry-go-round attempt to make its own appearance in the consciousness of the crowd, but it was a vain fight.

“Come here,” Gloria giggled every few minutes as he became engrossed in the flashing lights above their heads.  Her checked dress flapped around her as she took him to various booths.  Snickering together, she’d participate in a game before challenging him.  Unfortunately for her, any tossing games was already a lost cause compared to Josh.

“How do you do it?” she asked.

“I’m a pitcher,” he responded, handing her a dime to play another game.

She gave an amused hum before she turned her attention somewhere else.

“Oh, the ferris wheel!  Come on!”  She grabbed him for the hundredth time, laughing at him while he laughed.  The sun was almost completely hidden by then.

The line was slightly longer than usual.  “It’s getting chilly,” she said as they waited.

“You were complaining about hot it’s been.”

“I didn’t say chilly was a bad thing.”  She rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out as a girl passed by them.  “Say,” she said, “do you find that girl pretty?”

“What girl?”

“That one.”  She pushed his head in the direction the stranger was going.

“Well, she’s attractive enough.”

She raised an eyebrow, clicking her tongue in a manner he didn’t understand.  Her expression relaxed a moment later.  “Why don’t girls chase after you?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I guess a better question is why don’t you let girls chase after you?”

Perplexed now, he looked away.  “I don’t quite know what you mean.”

She paused.  “Remember when Lori was crazy about you in seventh grade?”

“Yeah?”

She looked over at him, eyebrows arched.  “Why didn’t you kiss her?”

“That’s a strange question.”

She smoothed her dress, looking dignified as she stood up straight and looked at the ferris wheel stopping.  “Don’t you ever want a girl?”

“Well… maybe one day, I guess.”  The shrug in his shoulders didn’t appear too confident to her.

“Hm.  Well, there’s always somebody,” she said.  Her voice softened as her gaze met his again.  “Oh Josh,” she said quietly, “there’s always somebody.”

He felt uneasy as the echo of wood hitting wood filled his head.  The line moved.

The strange wave that came over Gloria evaporated.  “Oh, good!” she chirped.  Joshua stayed quiet.

IV.

The time was unknown to them as they wandered through the fairground.  Families with young children had disappeared a long time ago, leaving teenagers and young couples to take over the area.  Gloria’s spunk seemed to ebb away with each step they took.  Joshua stopped her as they passed the popcorn stall for the fifth time that day.

“You seem tired.  Maybe we should go home.”

She tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear as she thought his suggestion over.  “Okay,” she said.  Her eyes looked up again, a smile erupting across her lips as she met Joshua’s gaze.  “It was fun.  See you later.”  She stood on her tiptoes, pressing a kiss against his cheek.  He froze as she remained there for two lengthy seconds.  He listened to her large intake of breath as she hovered there, still on her toes, whispering something he couldn’t decipher for an unmeasurable amount of time.  He wondered if he imagined it when he realized that she was now standing back on her heels.

“See you later,” she repeated.  She left him hastily, looking at a scrap at the ground as she did.  He remained motionless.  The time he stood there aged him.

“Joshua!”

Youth flooded his bones as he moved his head.  A person lost somewhere between boyhood and adulthood waved at him between tents.  “Come here!” they said.

The voice was unforgettable.  Joshua regretted leaving his eternity behind as he approached the man.

“I did it,” Ben Bailey said with the same pride he did as when he had a new stick.  “I stayed away from you Josh, just like I promised.”  The smile planted on his face faltered when Joshua’s stare stayed locked on his feet.  “Josh,” he said, his happy tone turning into something pleading.  “I haven’t seen you in almost two months.”  His fingers gripped onto Joshua’s forearms.  “I’ve stayed away from you and your family and your neighborhood… I’ve practically erased myself from you.  I did what I promised.  Will you please just give me an answer?”

He shook his right shoulder, loosening Ben’s grip.

“Is that lipstick?” Ben asked after a beat.

“Gloria,” Joshua said.

“Oh.  She likes you?”

“I don’t like her.”

“Oh.”  A sad grin formed on his face.  “Josh--”

“No, Ben.”  He shook his head.  “Sorry, but no.”

Ben bit his lip, nodding as he looked down.  “I thought that would be the answer.”  He glanced back up.  “Do I need to stay away?”

Joshua found it hard to speak.  “If you don’t… mind….”

“No, I don’t… I don’t….”   He sighed.  “Can you at least look at me?”

Joshua looked up at Ben.  The pair shared a regretful smile.

“Well Josh,” Ben started, “I enjoyed knowing you.”

Joshua ran his hand across his shirt, fumbling with his buttons.  “You too,” he said hoarsely.

Ben started to turn away, but stopped to lean towards Joshua.  The scrawny 17 year old felt his heart racing as Ben drew closer, burning the bridge of air between them with every century that passed.  The trap that ensnared Joshua was suddenly destroyed as he moved his head away.  “No, Ben.”

He stopped at Joshua’s words.  With a sigh, he shook his head.

Joshua hated crying.  Ben left him be.

He heard a stick hitting his fence that night.