FirstLineFiction beta

from Contest #5

A boy with a parrot on his shoulder was walking along the railway tracks. The sun was scorching the back of his neck. He looked in the distance. The air was shimmering with heat. He wiped a thin layer of sweat off his brow. He was thirsty. The bird clenched its claws tighter on his flesh and cackled, breaking the silence of the field.

For how long had he been walking? No way to know for sure. No watch. He had asked Mother for one of those neat shiny things on display at the Every Thing store on Main Street, but she had just said no. Meaning: No, money’s tight, thank the bum who fathered you for leaving us to get by on our own. The boy loved her. She was fair with him on most days. And that morning she surprised him. Hell, she actually knocked him out of his socks.

He had awoken to a wonderful smell of fried bacon and eggs. He hurled himself downstairs and there she was, setting plates with yummy stuff on the table.

„Sit yer ass down, young man!” She was cheerful. She threw a hand in his hair and ruffled it.

He couldn’t even remember when it had been last time she’d prepared breakfast for him on a school day. Usually she would be gone off to work by the time he woke up, and there would be just a couple of sandwiches left for him.

He dug into the omelette. She watched him eat, then pushed a piece of paper into his hand. It was a leaflet advertising the fair in the neighboring town. Roller coaster rides, circus freaks, animal shows and magicians. He knew about it, but hadn’t dared ask her for money. She had seemed especially down lately. He looked at her, waiting.

„Well? Don’t you get it, silly?” She took a smooth bill from her purse and put it on the table in front of him.

He got up and hugged her, his face pressed into her freshly ironed dress, a soapy fragrance in his nostrils. „Thanks, Mother!” A couple of hot little drops escaped from his eyes.

„There, there!” She pushed him gently at arm’s length and squatted down, her eyes level with his. „School’s out at two, right?”

He nodded, not blinking so he wouldn’t spill any more of those stupid tears.

„You can take the bus straight to the carnival, it’s a fifteen minute ride, tops. You have to be home before sunset, or else...” She shook her fist, smiling. She stood up and straightened her dress. „This week-end I have to work, and it’ll be too crowded then for you to go by yourself. Remember: home till sundown!”

She picked up her purse, opened the door to the front lawn, looked at him one more time, her smile starting to fade, then went away.

***

That day, school was torment. There was a fire singeing his butt, the fire of flame-guzzling circus performers, and he could barely sit through classes.

He had no real friends at school, so he kept quiet about his trip. When the two o’clock bell rang, he sprang up and ran to the bus station, leaving his satchel in a corner of the classroom.

***

There was a blue banner with big silver letters stating „You are now stepping into Funfair World!” A swift gust made it bulge toward the boy.

He passed beneath the banner and looked at Funfair World: a huge golden tent, a couple of icecream and popcorn stands, a roller coaster, a tin duck shooting range and a merry-go-rounds. Enough attractions to make for a bustling crowd, but the place was nearly deserted. There was a couple holding hands at the popcorn stand and a small girl bawling and running away from an annoyed grandfather in front of the merry-go-rounds.

The boy walked to the golden tent. A poster proclaimed it as „The fabulous Tent of Freaks and Beast Tamers”. The entrance was blocked by a folding black panel bearing the dismaying message „No shows today” written in chalk. Behind it, the tent flap was rolled-up, nothing but solid darkness inside.

He dragged his feet to the icecream stand, where a pimply teenager was dozing at the counter. The boy rapped twice hard on the glass of the refrigerator showcase. „A chocolate cone, please!” he almost shouted.

The teenager snapped awake, scratched a pimple on his nose, gave the boy the evil eye, scooped up icecream, handed him the cone, took the money, returned change and resumed his afternoon nap on the job.

The boy licked at the cold icecream. He was disappointed, but there was still the roller coaster, right? Wrong, he noticed as he got nearer to the jumbling loops of glistening track. A padlock was attached to the gate in the chain-link fence, barring access to the empty cars stationed at the foot of the first climb. Nobody attended the ticket booth of the Hellish Steep Ride.

The boy’s hands trembled with revolt. Half of the icecream fell and splattered at his feet. He felt his eyes sting.

„Bummer, huh?”

The voice had come from behind him. The boy turned and saw a woman, fortyish, wearing a tan halter top and short khaki pants. A live snake curled around her arms and shoulders, muscles coiling underneath shiny silver skin.

The boy took two steps backward. „Wh- what?” he stammered.

„I said it’s a shame. Everything’s closed, ’cause there’s no customers around.” She played with the reptile, making swim-gestures with her arms.

The sun was frying the boy’s head. The snake hissed and seemed to look straight into his eyes.

„They’re out drinkin’, happy they ain’t got customers. Men are pigs, kid. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll turn into one, too.” The woman took off down an alley between the roller coaster side fence and the shooting range, toward a broken-down, rust streaked trailer.

The boy’s gaze followed her until she got inside the trailer, fascinated with the snake’s sinuos, legless body. Strange, evil-looking creature.

Something tickled his hand. Almost all of the icecream that was left had melted and run down the cone and onto his fingers, falling on the ground or drying on his skin. He threw the cone in a trash bin and decided to leave.

The boy walked beneath the blue banner again. Stupid carnival, he thought. Lousy trip.

He was thirsty. There was a drinking fountain near and he went to it. He drank, then washed his hands, getting rid of the sticky dried icecream. He threw some water on his face and reveled in its coolness.

He sat down in the shadow of a huge oak tree, looking at the entrance to Funfair World. Bummer, indeed. He thought that maybe he should wait for a couple more hours until people got back from work and brought their kids. Perhaps the tent and the rides would open then. There was his mother’s curfew, though.

„Well, hay-lowww !!”

The boy flinched and saw him: a scrawny old man with a short thin beard, watery eyes and grey bushy eyebrows. His hands, stained with brown spots, pulled on his sunken cheeks, making a funny face. He was wearing a shabby costume like a naval commander’s uniform. A faded blue cap rested on his head, a few strands of white hair escaping around his floppy ears.

The boy thought the old man must be with the carnival, he looked too ridiculous to actually have a real job where he wore those clothes.

„Ya sure’s a fine lookin’ young man, yessah!” The man let his hands fall to his sides and kept his misty gaze trained on the boy, speaking with a mock pirate’s accent. „Where ya from, lad?”

The boy’s mother had warned him about strangers, and he usually kept away from them of his own reckoning, but somehow the silly old man didn’t come across as dangerous. A bit crazy, perhaps, but harmless, old-crazy.

„Next town.” the boy replied. „Do you know if they’ll have shows today at the fair?”

The old man sat down a couple of feet in front of the boy. He grinned, showing more gapes than teeth.

„No show today, lad. Sorray. People ain’t comin’ like dey use’ta no more.” The old man studied the boy, head cocked slightly. „Hey, ya wanna palm readin’?”

The boy shook his head. „Uh-huh. I have to go.” Last hope had vanished, and now all he wanted to do was go home. Besides, the old man wasn’t much fun.

„Aah, c’mon!! There’s things to know dat are good knowin’!”

The boy tried to figure out what the man meant and couldn’t. He shrugged and stretched out his right arm, palm up.

„Good!” roared the old man joyously. He grabbed the boy’s wrist, long bony fingers prodding the young soft skin. He closed his eyes and scowled at some unknown vision. He let go of the boy’s hand, opened his eyes and grinned again.

„Didn’t hurt, did it?” The old man stood up. „Couldn’t see much. I must be losin’ me touch!”

The boy got up and started to walk away, not sparing the old man another glance.

„Hey, wait up, lad! I got somethin’ for ya!” the old man yelled.

The boy just kept on walking. What a disaster the whole day had turned out to be! There was a flutter behind him, then something gripped his shoulder. He cringed instinctively and the grip disappeared. The boy turned and saw a parrot, greenish blue with a red crest, perched on a branch. The bird ruffled its feathers, wings outstretched.

„Ya like it? ’T’is a nice bird, yessah!” The old man whistled and the bird flew to him, landing on his cap. He walked up to the boy and bowed his head. The parrot jumped back on the boy’s shoulder. „It’s yours, lad! A present for ya!”

„Thanks, but my mother won’t let me keep it. She doesn’t like pets much.” The boy wasn’t lying. He actually liked the idea of having a pet parrot, but his mother had forbidden him to ever bring home something that needed looking after and made a mess of the house.

„Dis bird ain’t no bother, trust me! Ya can leave it out and just go play with it when ya wanta! No food, no house!”

The boy turned his head and bumped his nose on the bird’s feathery chest. Its colors were bright and pretty. The parrot swung its curved beak toward him, its eyes polished black beads.

The boy thought about what the old man had said. If the bird could stay outside, perhaps his mother would let him keep it around.

„OK, I’ll take it. Thank you, sir.”

„Good!” The old man rubbed his hands. „I bid ya farewell now!”

„Wait!’ the boy said. „Does it have a name? What should I give it to eat?”

„Bird got no name. Just "bird"! Eatin’ no problem of yours, don’t worray”. The old man turned and walked away.

***

The boy thought about taking the bus, then he reckoned he could spare the fare and add it to the watch fund. There was plenty of daytime left and his town was just five miles away.

He thought about going on the road. Hitchhiking was out of the question, of course. And walking on the shoulder of the road was kind of dangerous with some loonies hitting the gas pedal really hard and prone to knock people off their feet – this had happened to a girl he knew.

There was also the railway... He could follow its tracks to the freight station junction, and then it would be just a ten minute stroll to his house.

He spotted an old woman walking her dog, went to her and asked where the train passed nearby.

***

The boy with a parrot on his shoulder was walking on the railroad crossties, humming a rhyme from an old kiddie song to keep from thinking about thirst:

Little Charlie didn’t speak

Everyone thought he was weak

But when the whole town slept

Little Charlie up and went

Went to hills where the wind blows

Where he’s now - nobody knows

He walked faster. Thirst was not something to be quenched with a foolish baby song.

The glare in the sky was softened by the passing of long puffy clouds shaped like battleships. They sailed across the shiny blue sea, honking the mighty horn of attack feared by the enemy. It sounded a lot like a train’s toot.

The boy looked back and saw the muzzle of a gigantic locomotive rush toward him. He jumped to one side, over the track and onto the embankment. He watched the freight cars run madly by, his heart beating out of his chest. So stupid of him, to forget checking for incoming trains.

The bird had fled on its own and returned now to the comfort of his shoulder. The boy wondered how come it hadn’t flown away sooner. Weren’t animals supposed to have sharper senses or something like that?

„Scared you some, right?” The words came from nowhere. The boy looked around. A bush on the other side of the railway tracks shook itself and spawned a ragged bum holding a switchblade knife and a half-peeled apple in his hands. He waved to the boy and walked toward him. „The train, I mean. You should be more careful, son. And-- hey, don’t be afraid!”

The boy started running along the tracks. „Leave me alone!!” he screamed. Thirst had really taken the back seat now. Frightening vagrant was riding shotgun.

The bird was airborne again. The boy turned his head and saw the bum come after him in a queer quick shuffle of feet. Just a second’s worth of attention, but it was enough. The boy’s left foot plunged between some larger stones of the embankment and he sprawled belly-down, jagged pieces of rock cutting mercilessly through his skin. He lay there for a couple of seconds, dazed and hurting, then he pushed himself up and started running again. He didn’t risk looking back again. He knew the bum was still chasing him, he could hear his treacherous attempts at gaining his trust and making him stop.

Up ahead, the railway curved and went up a mild incline. Beyond it, some hundreds of yards farther down, the houses on the edge of town, tiny miracles on barren ground.

„Left! Go leeeeeeft!!” Inhuman shrieks. The parrot was flying by his side and uttering its shrill advice. „Leeeft!”

There was a narrow dirt path parallel to the embankment, the boy noticed, and it sloped down and to the left where the railway curved up, no more then ten yards to go (run) now. It could have been a shortcut. He was almost out of breath and his legs hurt from the fall he had taken. The bum seemed to be closing in on him, he could hear him clearer: „Quit runnin’, laddie, I ain’t gonna hurt ya!”. Something familiar in that tone, but no time to think about that. He could picture the man in his pursuit – the wielding of the blade, the crazy scamper.

„Left!” the parrot commanded. How come-- Nevermind, no time to think about that, either.

The boy took the shortcut. He ran down the path, grateful for the minor break. At least he didn’t have to run up that slope where the railway led. He ran, dust rising in his wake, his only thought that of escape. The bird flew a couple of yards in front of him, an unlikely guide and his only help.

The boy was tiring, but he still ran fast. He saw the way the earth caved in before him only when he was already on the edge of the hole.

***

He lay on his back, eyes almost shut, his vision restricted to a thinning fraction of the world: a wall of rotten earth and perched on it the dusty silhouette of a ragged man. He blinked and the rags turned for a second into a skipper’s shabby blue uniform.

***

The bum had seen the boy topple into the hole. He had just come out of a feverish dream that had gotten hold of him when he spoke to the boy who happened along. In this dream, a bearded old man with a faded blue cap was gripping and forcing him into a jerky trot away from the shrubs where he had been resting all afternoon. Now he was in command of his limbs again. He kneeled on the edge of the hole and called down to the boy. It was useless. He looked around for witnesses and didn’t see any. The boy couldn’t be helped, and trouble was all that awaited him if he lingered there. He was scared. He returned to the railway tracks and melted back into oblivion.

***

A bird’s shadow glided over the dirt path, the embankment, the railway tracks, the scrubland, the streets, the steel loops of the Hellish Steep Ride. The shadow and its maker met beside an oak tree under which sat an old man in a threadbare navy blue costume. The parrot hopped to him.

The old man was smiling. It had run smoothly. The bird and him were still great together.

In the time between leaving the bum and the bird’s arrival, the old man had spotted their next job. A young couple had walked by on their way to the funfair, and the young man was all jealous acid and smoldering fury – he reeked of it. With the right shove, it would turn out fine. Yessah! The old man would give them the parrot, and-- how was that joke? Man comes home to wife and parrot. Parrot shrieks: „Oh yes, Billy, do me plenty!” And Billy is definitely not our hero’s name. A joke, was it?

The old man threw his head back and laughed. The parrot joined in.

back to Contest #5