Carousel Nights

Evie and Jack glanced at their sister and returned to counting the guests streaming past.

“Everyone loves a parade,” June added.

Evie shrugged.

“Maybe next year,” Jack said. “If we’re lucky, you’ll forget all about it.”

“I’m serious.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“How hard would it be to jazz up the high school band thing that’s been going on for years?” June asked.

Every summer, high school bands from all over the state applied for a day at the Point. Band members got free admission in exchange for two performances. They played the national anthem at the front gates at park opening and marched through the park at some point in the day. Decent deal for the high school kids, probably hellish for the chaperones and a vague return in live entertainment for the Point.

“We standardize the time of their marching performance—say three o’clock every day—and add some other stuff,” June said.

“Opening day fever has gotten to you,” Evie said. “It’s a lot of adrenaline to handle, and I forget your immunity is down. You probably think you can do a triathlon right now.”

“Or at least name all fifty states and their capitals,” Jack said.

“Everything seems possible on opening day,” Evie said. “It’s the family curse. It makes us commit to a lifetime of insanity, one hundred days at a time. And then spend the other two thirds of the year wondering what the heck we were thinking. It’s a Vegas-wedding way to spend your life.”

“But you love it,” June said.

Evie smiled and waved to a little girl shoving an umbrella stroller with her doll in it. “Of course I do. I’d be crazy not to.”

“And you love my idea of a parade.”

“Maybe,” Evie said. “I’d have to see how it looks on paper.”

“I’ll take a picture of it going down the midway and email it to you.”

Evie cocked her head and blew out a long sigh. “You can’t just pull something like this out of your hat.”

“Sure I can. It won’t be that hard to put together a float, get some of my dancers to ride along and entertain, maybe a banner. I just need a theme and I’m good to go.”

“But—” Evie protested.

“Listen. I own this place,” June said, smirking. “I can pull this off if I want to.”

“One-third,” Evie said. “You’re not even a simple majority.”

Jack ran a hand through his hair and loosened his tie. “If you want a controlling interest, you can have my share,” he said, heading straight for Aunt Augusta’s bakery on the midway, a beacon of sugary hope under a pink awning.

“How does he stay so skinny?” June asked.

“He’s in love,” Evie said.

June and her sister stood side by side watching hundreds of guests continue through the front gates. From their position on a small raised bandstand, they could also see over the front ticket counters to the Point Bridge, where cars waited at the toll booths. Sunlight flashed off windshields, and the line of vehicles stretched all the way to Bayside.

“And how about you?” June asked. “Anyone you’ve got your eye on?”

Evie shook her head. “I’m married to Starlight Point right now. I’m trying to get the red ink and the black ink to pick out china patterns together.”

“Might do you some good to get out of the office every day. You might meet people. Maybe around three o’clock?”

“Nice try.”

“I’d let you wear a sparkly sash and carry the banner,” June said.

“I think I’ll stay in the office and be the adult in charge.”

June raised her arm and did a perfect beauty pageant wave, nodding and smiling at her sister.

“You’re perfect for the job,” Evie said. “You’ve got more drama in one arm than I’ve got in my whole body.”

June laughed. “Someday, that’s going to change.”

“You mean you’re going to give up the stage?”

“Nope,” June said, “I mean you’ll get in touch with your inner drama queen one of these days.”

“Doubt it,” Evie said. She glanced at her smartphone and tucked it back in her skirt pocket. “You can have two thousand bucks to get your parade going. That has to cover float, costumes, everything. It’s the best I can do.”

“I’ll take it. I might even do it for less and spend the rest on a spa day for us.”

“Rain check on that until November.”

“No good. You’ll be insane by then and I’ll be in New York.”

Evie shoulder-hugged her sister. “I wish you’d stay. No matter how expensive your plans are.” She smiled at June and started to walk away.

“Evie,” June said, stopping her sister. “Which columns are the good ones—red or black?”

“Depends on how much fun you’re having,” Evie said, laughing, and then she turned and headed toward the corporate office behind the midway games.

* * *

“WHO THE DEVIL made this mess?” Mel thundered. It was almost ten o’clock at night. Mel would’ve gone home hours ago but rides shuttered for six months didn’t come to life without some kinks. Opening week was a maintenance challenge every year. That’s why his son, Ross, spent the week before and the week of opening “on vacation” at his grandparents’ house in Bayside. Without their help, Mel didn’t know what he’d do.

Without a beer, a shower and at least five hours of sleep tonight, he was on the verge of stealing one of the bumper cars and wreaking havoc on the Point Bridge.

The last thing he needed now was a mess in his maintenance garage. Someone had rearranged rolling tool chests, moved a lawnmower, turned on every light in the place and dragged an ancient maintenance scooter from its personal graveyard in the far back corner. Clanking and voices led Mel to the other corner where one of his most trusted year-round workers—Galway—was shoving a big box of stuff on a two-wheeled cart.

“What are you doing?” Mel yelled.

Jack stepped out from behind a tall rolling tool chest. “Plotting your overthrow,” he said. “I’ve just made Galway here the head of maintenance. Gave him your corner office, key to your personal bathroom, everything.”