| The Three in One by David Rasey |
The amusement park is dying.
The music, more funeral dirge now than happy tune, falls silent. Colored lights
wink out like flashbulbs in reverse. Rides spin down like dying tops to a full and
complete stop as their operators light cigarettes and walk away. Plywood shutters
on the snack bars clap shut. Ice cream and cotton candy are thrown into
dumpsters to melt over unsold hot dogs and popcorn. The first real winds of fall
make a haunted hum in the girders of the Ferris Wheel.
Cherokee Point Amusement Park closes for the last time. Tomorrow, men will
come with big machines and toolboxes. They will rip down the rides, rip up the
midway, and raze the buildings. For tonight, however, the park is still here and still
has a forlorn majesty.
The music, more funeral dirge now than happy tune, falls silent. Colored lights
wink out like flashbulbs in reverse. Rides spin down like dying tops to a full and
complete stop as their operators light cigarettes and walk away. Plywood shutters
on the snack bars clap shut. Ice cream and cotton candy are thrown into
dumpsters to melt over unsold hot dogs and popcorn. The first real winds of fall
make a haunted hum in the girders of the Ferris Wheel.
Cherokee Point Amusement Park closes for the last time. Tomorrow, men will
come with big machines and toolboxes. They will rip down the rides, rip up the
midway, and raze the buildings. For tonight, however, the park is still here and still
has a forlorn majesty.
Sandra walks up the shadowy midway, past
dark arcades and a fun house where clowns
no longer laugh. She can feel the brittleness
of her bones and the unsteadiness in her
joints. The September wind is chill on her
scalp as it blows through her thin, white
hair. She remembers what it was like to run
up this midway on coltish legs that boys
weren’t yet interested in, when her breath
dark arcades and a fun house where clowns
no longer laugh. She can feel the brittleness
of her bones and the unsteadiness in her
joints. The September wind is chill on her
scalp as it blows through her thin, white
hair. She remembers what it was like to run
up this midway on coltish legs that boys
weren’t yet interested in, when her breath
seemed infinite and the five dollars in her pocket was a fortune. She can still see in
her heart’s eye the cheerful lights of the rides run by grinning men who smelled of
bearing-grease and Vitalis, and hear the music and excited voices. She remembers
her first date here, kissing at the top of the Ferris Wheel, getting sick from too
many sweets, and her new boyfriend proving his worth by holding her hair back
while she threw up. She can feel the presence of the girl she was.
A tired-looking young man carrying a long-handled scoop and a broom walks up to
Sandra. "I’m sorry, ma’am," he says, "but we’re closing now. You’ll need to exit
through the main gate. That way." He points back down the midway.
Sandra gives him a smile that once, and not so long ago, would have left him
breathless. "I know. Will you miss this place, young fella?"
"Ma’am, I really need to ask that you – "
"Will. You. Miss. This. Place?"
He looks around. "Yeah, I will. I loved it here when I was a kid. ‘S why I came to
work here."
"This was the most special place in the world to me," Sandra says. "This is my last
chance to see it while it’s still whole. What do you say, sport? Give an old lady a
few more minutes to reminisce?"
The young man’s smile is sad. "Sure, why not? It’s not like you can hurt anything,
is it? Ten minutes?"
"That’s fine. Thank you." Sandra touches his shoulder and walks on. As she passes
the huge, turreted main pavilion that dominates the midway, she trails her fingers
across its art-deco façade. She rounds a corner –
her heart’s eye the cheerful lights of the rides run by grinning men who smelled of
bearing-grease and Vitalis, and hear the music and excited voices. She remembers
her first date here, kissing at the top of the Ferris Wheel, getting sick from too
many sweets, and her new boyfriend proving his worth by holding her hair back
while she threw up. She can feel the presence of the girl she was.
A tired-looking young man carrying a long-handled scoop and a broom walks up to
Sandra. "I’m sorry, ma’am," he says, "but we’re closing now. You’ll need to exit
through the main gate. That way." He points back down the midway.
Sandra gives him a smile that once, and not so long ago, would have left him
breathless. "I know. Will you miss this place, young fella?"
"Ma’am, I really need to ask that you – "
"Will. You. Miss. This. Place?"
He looks around. "Yeah, I will. I loved it here when I was a kid. ‘S why I came to
work here."
"This was the most special place in the world to me," Sandra says. "This is my last
chance to see it while it’s still whole. What do you say, sport? Give an old lady a
few more minutes to reminisce?"
The young man’s smile is sad. "Sure, why not? It’s not like you can hurt anything,
is it? Ten minutes?"
"That’s fine. Thank you." Sandra touches his shoulder and walks on. As she passes
the huge, turreted main pavilion that dominates the midway, she trails her fingers
across its art-deco façade. She rounds a corner –
There is a large booth beside the pavilion. It is painted
in gaudy red and gold curlicues, and is the only booth
still lighted in the park. There are three games in the
booth: Ring Toss, the Wheel of Fortune, and Pitch ‘Til U
Win. An elaborate circus-banner proclaims it "The
World Famous Three-In-One!" A scrawny man with a
flat top haircut and the loose-jointed mouth of a born
talker leans against the counter. He flashes Sandra a
brilliant grin and a knowing wink.
"Howdy howdy, pretty lady," he bellows. "Step on up
here! Don’t be shy, ‘cause I never am! Come try your
luck at Freddie’s World Famous Three-In-One!
in gaudy red and gold curlicues, and is the only booth
still lighted in the park. There are three games in the
booth: Ring Toss, the Wheel of Fortune, and Pitch ‘Til U
Win. An elaborate circus-banner proclaims it "The
World Famous Three-In-One!" A scrawny man with a
flat top haircut and the loose-jointed mouth of a born
talker leans against the counter. He flashes Sandra a
brilliant grin and a knowing wink.
"Howdy howdy, pretty lady," he bellows. "Step on up
here! Don’t be shy, ‘cause I never am! Come try your
luck at Freddie’s World Famous Three-In-One!
Winners? Hey, hey, hey, there’s a winner every play!"
Sandra’s heart bumps and threatens to stop, her mouth goes dry. She draws back
a step. "I… You! I know you! I remember you!"
"’Course you do, Dandy Sandy, lips like candy! Nobody ever forgets Fabulous
Freddie, Lady Luck’s best boyfriend! Been a long time, huh? You was, what, twelve
or so, last time we met? Played Pitch ‘Til U Win, dint’cha?"
Sandra backs away another step. "This booth wasn’t here! And you were an old
man when I saw you before! How can you be here?"
Freddie laughs a deep, oily laugh. "I came back for you, Dandy Sandy. You’re the
only person ever won choice on the first throw. That made you special, that did,
and won my heart. And did you get your choice? Betcherass you did! Fabulous
Freddie, he delivers what the rest only promise! But the park’s closin’ tonight, pet,
and everything is shuttin’ down. You buy your tickets and take your rides, but
every ride has to end, now, don’t it?"
“Are you saying I’m…”
Freddie’s nod is solemn, but his grin is still brilliant. “’At’s right, Sandy. This is your
last night, too. You and the park go out together. Well, unless, that is…”
“Unless what?”
Freddie’s eyes gleam. He spins the Wheel of Fortune. “Whaddaya say? You wanna
try your luck, Sandy? One last time, before we shut down? Pick your play an’ lay
your money down, win choice and take home the grand prize!”
Sandra draws close, despite her fear. She wants to think this is a dream, but she
sees flakes of Butchwax in Freddie’s hair, smells stale cigar smoke and cheap
cologne, hears the fretful buzzing of the lights. All the details match a memory so
old it has nearly been lost. She knows it’s no dream.
“What’s the grand prize?” Sandra says.
“Choice,” Freddie replies. “’Member the first time you played my game? You won
choice your first toss, an’ I ast you what you would choose if it could be anything
you wanted. ‘Member what you said to me?”
“I s-s-said I…” Sandra shakes her head and clears her throat. “I said I wanted to
fall in love with a good man who would love me back and treat me well, not be
poor, and raise a happy family. I was just a silly girl then. My dreams weren’t very
big.”
“But you got your choice, dint’cha? Ol’ Freddie saw to that, darlin’ Sandy that stole
my heart. But now…Well, the man is passed on and the kids is grown and gone,
and what’s poor, lonely Sandy to do? Tellya what I’m gonna do: You got the
chance to play again, an’ see if you can win another wish. You up to it, sweetest
girl?”
Sandra stares at him for a moment, then reaches into a pocket and takes out a
tattered dollar bill. She pushes it across the counter to Freddie. He laughs and
pushes it back.
“No, no, Sandy. Your money’s no good here. This time it’s all or nothin’. Win and
you get your choice again. Lose…” He shrugs, winks, and draws a thumb across his
throat.
Her hands are shaking. “What if I choose the wrong game?”
“That’s the chance you take. You pays your money and you takes your chances. If
it don’t work out… Well, there y’are. There’s a winner every time, but the winner
ain’t always you. Play or pay, but it’s gotta be one or the other. We ain’t got all
night. They’ll be locking the front gates in a few minutes, and that’ll make the
choice for you, unnerstand?” He flicks the fingers of his left hand in a liquid-quick
gesture and a dime appears between his middle and ring fingers. He slaps it down
on the counter.
Sandra reaches out and picks up the coin. It feels warm in her hand. She looks
from game to game. The moment stretches on and on. One game or another, it
doesn’t matter. The odds, she knows, are always rigged in favor of the house.
Once in a while you beat the house, but as a rule… She hears her husbands’
exasperated voice in her mind: “Of course the game is rigged, baby. But don’t let
that stop you. If you don’t bet, you can’t win.” How many times did he tell her that
when she dithered over some decision? One time less than too many, she thinks.
Her hand steadies, her heart firms. She pushes the dime over to the betting grid
for the red and black Wheel of Fortune and leaves it on black seven. “My life was
sweet and good, Freddie,” she says, actually beginning to laugh. “What’s to lose
now, eh? Roll it, damn you, roll it.”
“’At’s my girl!” Freddie cries. “No more bets, ladies and gents! The money’s down,
the Wheel goes ‘round, will Lady Luck smile or frown?” He reaches out and gives
the wheel a hard snap. The pointer makes a loud burring sound. The red and black
spaces on the Wheel blur into a pinkish-gray.
The Wheel spins, spins, and slows.
The clicks of the pointer are separate sounds.
Redblackredblack redblack red black red…black…red…
A distant clash of metal on metal announces the main gates of the park have
closed for the last time.
The pointer makes one last clack!
The Wheel stops.
Freddie reaches out, his eyes solemn, his manner ceremonial, and sweeps the
dime off the counter and into his pocket. “Winner, seven black! Choice! We gotta
choice winner here! What’ll it be, Dandy Sandy?”
Sandra leans forward and kisses his cheek. She whispers in his ear.
Freddie grins, steps back, and throws his arms wide. “Choice! Choice…WINNAH!”
##
A young woman walks along the midway toward the main gate. The young man,
still carrying the scoop and broom, approaches her. She stops and turns to him.
Her eyes are magnetic, electric, and the smile she turns on him stops his breath.
“Can I still get out through the main gate?” she asks.
“N—No ma’am,” he manages to stammer. “S’locked up. I can…I’d be glad to show
you to a side gate.”
“Thank you!”
“Uhm…you didn’t see an old woman wandering around, by any chance?”
“Sure, I saw her. She left already.” She takes his arm. “I’m Sandra.”
“I’m Todd.”
They make their way along the darkened midway. The last of the colored lights
wink out.
Sandra’s heart bumps and threatens to stop, her mouth goes dry. She draws back
a step. "I… You! I know you! I remember you!"
"’Course you do, Dandy Sandy, lips like candy! Nobody ever forgets Fabulous
Freddie, Lady Luck’s best boyfriend! Been a long time, huh? You was, what, twelve
or so, last time we met? Played Pitch ‘Til U Win, dint’cha?"
Sandra backs away another step. "This booth wasn’t here! And you were an old
man when I saw you before! How can you be here?"
Freddie laughs a deep, oily laugh. "I came back for you, Dandy Sandy. You’re the
only person ever won choice on the first throw. That made you special, that did,
and won my heart. And did you get your choice? Betcherass you did! Fabulous
Freddie, he delivers what the rest only promise! But the park’s closin’ tonight, pet,
and everything is shuttin’ down. You buy your tickets and take your rides, but
every ride has to end, now, don’t it?"
“Are you saying I’m…”
Freddie’s nod is solemn, but his grin is still brilliant. “’At’s right, Sandy. This is your
last night, too. You and the park go out together. Well, unless, that is…”
“Unless what?”
Freddie’s eyes gleam. He spins the Wheel of Fortune. “Whaddaya say? You wanna
try your luck, Sandy? One last time, before we shut down? Pick your play an’ lay
your money down, win choice and take home the grand prize!”
Sandra draws close, despite her fear. She wants to think this is a dream, but she
sees flakes of Butchwax in Freddie’s hair, smells stale cigar smoke and cheap
cologne, hears the fretful buzzing of the lights. All the details match a memory so
old it has nearly been lost. She knows it’s no dream.
“What’s the grand prize?” Sandra says.
“Choice,” Freddie replies. “’Member the first time you played my game? You won
choice your first toss, an’ I ast you what you would choose if it could be anything
you wanted. ‘Member what you said to me?”
“I s-s-said I…” Sandra shakes her head and clears her throat. “I said I wanted to
fall in love with a good man who would love me back and treat me well, not be
poor, and raise a happy family. I was just a silly girl then. My dreams weren’t very
big.”
“But you got your choice, dint’cha? Ol’ Freddie saw to that, darlin’ Sandy that stole
my heart. But now…Well, the man is passed on and the kids is grown and gone,
and what’s poor, lonely Sandy to do? Tellya what I’m gonna do: You got the
chance to play again, an’ see if you can win another wish. You up to it, sweetest
girl?”
Sandra stares at him for a moment, then reaches into a pocket and takes out a
tattered dollar bill. She pushes it across the counter to Freddie. He laughs and
pushes it back.
“No, no, Sandy. Your money’s no good here. This time it’s all or nothin’. Win and
you get your choice again. Lose…” He shrugs, winks, and draws a thumb across his
throat.
Her hands are shaking. “What if I choose the wrong game?”
“That’s the chance you take. You pays your money and you takes your chances. If
it don’t work out… Well, there y’are. There’s a winner every time, but the winner
ain’t always you. Play or pay, but it’s gotta be one or the other. We ain’t got all
night. They’ll be locking the front gates in a few minutes, and that’ll make the
choice for you, unnerstand?” He flicks the fingers of his left hand in a liquid-quick
gesture and a dime appears between his middle and ring fingers. He slaps it down
on the counter.
Sandra reaches out and picks up the coin. It feels warm in her hand. She looks
from game to game. The moment stretches on and on. One game or another, it
doesn’t matter. The odds, she knows, are always rigged in favor of the house.
Once in a while you beat the house, but as a rule… She hears her husbands’
exasperated voice in her mind: “Of course the game is rigged, baby. But don’t let
that stop you. If you don’t bet, you can’t win.” How many times did he tell her that
when she dithered over some decision? One time less than too many, she thinks.
Her hand steadies, her heart firms. She pushes the dime over to the betting grid
for the red and black Wheel of Fortune and leaves it on black seven. “My life was
sweet and good, Freddie,” she says, actually beginning to laugh. “What’s to lose
now, eh? Roll it, damn you, roll it.”
“’At’s my girl!” Freddie cries. “No more bets, ladies and gents! The money’s down,
the Wheel goes ‘round, will Lady Luck smile or frown?” He reaches out and gives
the wheel a hard snap. The pointer makes a loud burring sound. The red and black
spaces on the Wheel blur into a pinkish-gray.
The Wheel spins, spins, and slows.
The clicks of the pointer are separate sounds.
Redblackredblack redblack red black red…black…red…
A distant clash of metal on metal announces the main gates of the park have
closed for the last time.
The pointer makes one last clack!
The Wheel stops.
Freddie reaches out, his eyes solemn, his manner ceremonial, and sweeps the
dime off the counter and into his pocket. “Winner, seven black! Choice! We gotta
choice winner here! What’ll it be, Dandy Sandy?”
Sandra leans forward and kisses his cheek. She whispers in his ear.
Freddie grins, steps back, and throws his arms wide. “Choice! Choice…WINNAH!”
##
A young woman walks along the midway toward the main gate. The young man,
still carrying the scoop and broom, approaches her. She stops and turns to him.
Her eyes are magnetic, electric, and the smile she turns on him stops his breath.
“Can I still get out through the main gate?” she asks.
“N—No ma’am,” he manages to stammer. “S’locked up. I can…I’d be glad to show
you to a side gate.”
“Thank you!”
“Uhm…you didn’t see an old woman wandering around, by any chance?”
“Sure, I saw her. She left already.” She takes his arm. “I’m Sandra.”
“I’m Todd.”
They make their way along the darkened midway. The last of the colored lights
wink out.
