The Harvesting (The Harvesting, #1)

When Mr. Iago leaned in to look, I moved away. My skin crept having him so close to me. I took a step toward the other end of the table and put my hand on Mrs. Chapman’s shoulder. She patted my fingers. On the card Vella had laid out was the image of a tower on fire, two naked people falling from it to the ground.

“What does it mean?” Mama Rosie asked.

“The end of a way of life. Chaos will pave the way in a new world for those who can survive the destruction.”

“That’s cheerful,” Red said.

Vella picked the card back up. She looked up at me. “Can you let me know when you’re going to head out? I’d like to caravan,” she said.

I smiled and nodded. I wasn’t really interested in her gloom and doom, but I sure didn’t want to be on the road alone in a time like this.

Red, Neil, and I headed back to the rides and started the break-down process. It wasn’t easy with just the three us, but Neil was good with the lift, and I had the break-down down-pat. We had the tilt loaded onto the flatbed in no time.

“I’ve never seen a girl as good with a wrench as you are, Cricket,” Red told me as we headed over to the swings.

“Don’t hurt none that my daddy put one in my hands about a minute after I was born,” I replied with a laugh.

“You know I met your daddy back in the 80’s. We worked for Fairway Fun together for about a year.”

“For real? I didn’t know that.”

“Boy, your daddy. There wasn’t a mark he couldn’t clean out or a townie whose eye he couldn’t catch. I think your daddy was born for the carnie life.”

“He loved it. That’s the truth,” I replied. I loved talking about my daddy. Since he’d died three years ago, I often felt lonely for him. Anytime someone had a story to share about him I was all ears. Daddy had just finally saved and borrowed enough to buy a used tilt-a-whirl when he started looking a little red in the cheeks from time to time. My daddy had always been a ride jockey, but now he would be a ride owner, and a “tilt man,” a title that made him proud. He liked the idea of tweaking the ride, playing with the gears and brakes. It was a dream for him. Not a month after getting the ride, however, I found him lying dead of a heart attack. He’d been working on one of the cars. Doctor said a life full of eating nothing but carnival food will do that to you. I’d thought about leaving the carnival, but after my daddy had worked so hard, I couldn’t. I became a tilt girl. The ride was like his living memorial. Every time a child smiled or laughed on that ride, I knew my daddy was smiling in heaven.

“I never did meet your mama. You ever see her, Neil?”

Neil shook his head. “Someone said you look like her, Crick.”

“Yeah, I suppose so. I probably wouldn’t know her anymore. Last time I talked to her she said she’d dyed her hair red,” I replied. My mom and dad had split when I was young. She had married and started a new life. We rarely talked.

We worked on the swings. They were an easy break down, and we were done and packed in less than two hours. The Big Eli, as we called the Ferris Wheel, was another story altogether, and it was already after one in the morning.

“Let’s get it first thing tomorrow,” Red said. “I’m feeling my bones.”

I nodded. Puck had started whining for his dinner an hour before so I wasn’t planning to argue. “Just knock in the mornin’,” I called to Red. “I’m over by the creek at the edge of the parking lot. Wasn’t room left in the back when I got here,” I added.

“Well, that will teach you not to play around in town next jump,” Red replied with a laugh, and we went our separate ways, Neil and Red chatting as they went the other direction.

Back in the parking lot, I crawled into the cab of my truck, my home away from home. When I was a game agent, I used to drive a small RV, but the ride needed a semi-truck to haul it so I gave up my RV, managed to get a CDL license, and now lived in the cab of my truck. It wasn’t too bad, and if it started to feel real tight, I would stay in a bunk house.

I dug around until I found a can of food for Puck. I placed a small bowl on the ground and sat beside him, petting him while he ate, looking out at the view. My spot by the creek wasn’t bad. I could hear the sound of the rushing water. Besides, the parking lot was dead. There would be no noise.

After Puck had gobbled down his meal, he jumped in the cab, and we snuggled together on the small cot behind the seat. I pulled the curtain closed, and we called it a night.





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