Chapter One - Pilgrim's Howe - Carnivale

Carnivale

"She's broken up with Cole?" Frank asked down the phone.

He'd spent all day worrying about Peter – he hadn't heard or seen the, apparently, quite public break-up of the golden couple.

"Really? She's going on her own?" He continued, listening to Robby's voice as he worriedly explained the situation. "Yeah – I'll be there." with a slow, determined gesture he replaced the receiver and turned around.

He'd been friends with Robby forever, even though he was a few years younger. In a way he'd been friends with Robby longer than he'd been friends with Sarah. His voice had sounded worried. Robby was right in thinking that she shouldn't go on her own, she'd need company – especially after what happened in school. Frank felt uncomfortably chivalrous, but at the same time he felt like there was part of the picture he was missing.

"Frank? You out there boy? You off that phone?"

"Yeah Dad." Frank replied, walking over to the living room door. His father was lounging in the gloom, watching the TV with the remains of a microwave dinner in front of him.

"Good."

"Dad," Frank began, hoping to draw his father's attention away from the TV, "I was wondering whether I could go to the Carnivale this evening." Frank didn't hold his breath. As a pillar of the community, Don Ryker was meant to be the pinnacle of respectability.

"Why would you want to go and throw your money away to those gypsy trash?" Don Ryker turned away from the screen to glower incredulously at his son.

"Because Sarah Meyer will be there," Frank replied levelly, not breaking his father's gaze, "On her own."

Frank's father, however blind he was to Frank in an everyday sense, did at the very least have a sense of what the girl-next-door meant to him. This wasn't about all his usual fears, which included but where not restricted to – sex, drugs and rock & roll. This was about what Frank's father had always striven to impress upon his son, being a man, being the good guy.

Don Ryker nodded and no more word was said regarding the matter. When the time came Frank left the house without a word, his mother in work and his father staring into the vacuum of the television.


Dione's reason was a pretense. Some casual acquaintainces were going and she couldn't stand the thought of sharing an evening in with her parents, so she went.

It was dark by the time they got there and the lights from the stands were garish and sickly. Half the school was there, crowding the stalls, waving their hands and cheering. Dark booths dominated muddy aisles. Flickering attractions drew in their small crowds while dark figures hung in the background, casting their spells over the gormless mob that throbbed at the pulse of the Carnivale.

Or so it felt to Dione who found that her hands staid firmly within her pockets as she was led around the site by her friends.

"Lighten up Di – it might never happen!" Crooned Lyla, a girl she knew through her science class. It was nice knowing someone who was wholly unconnected with her sports. Lyla didn't know and Lyla didn't care – it was comforting. Dione smiled, mildly surprised that she didn't have to force herself to do it. Lyla was right, in her roundabout kind of way, she was here to have fun.

"Want to go on a ride?" Lyla piped.

"I don't know." Dione shook her head, unconvinced that there was anything here worth her money. Then she spotted the tent. It was smaller than all the others and not so vibrant in its colour scheme. It looked faded and old, out of place and richer somehow. "What's that?" She asked, her tone changing.

"Dunno – could be anything. Let's go over here…" But Dione was no longer listening. The tent had an eery appeal, and coupled with the lure of having her future foretold, Dione succumbed to a moment of madness. Before she knew it, her spare change was out and her feet were touching the threshold.

The sound from outside seemed to dim as she left the fold of the tent's entrance fall behind her. She was standing in an enclosed, dark space filled with a heady smoke that wasn't quite incense. A light flickered from an oil lamp and around it Dione could discern a small round table, two chairs and a man, sitting in the low light. Softly, intrepidly, Dione moved towards the table and sat down.

"Do you tell fortunes?" Dione asked.

"In a manner of speaking." The silhouette replied, "I have a question before we begin. Do you believe in other worlds? Dimensions beyond our ability to grasp or understand – places we can never visit?"

Dione considered the question, her mind ticking off the possibilities, the train of logic, as far as she could see it, to her conclusion. "No." She replied.

"Excellent, then let us begin."


Peter moved silently through the crowds, his hood pulled over his head and his rucksack burdened with the weight of its contents. Nobody recognised him and he savoured his anonymity. In his hand he was holding Lee's monacle, he'd been following the boy for a few minutes, watching him approach stalls and amusements, listening to him talk to his friends.

Blissfully unnoticed Peter wove through the crowd and slipped the monacle into Lee's back pocket and moved on.

Behind a hotdog stall he pulled the next item from his rucksack and examined it. It was a cheering medal that bellonged to Sarah Meyer. He scanned the crowd briefly to see if she was anywhere in sight. When he couldn't see her he began to move through the throng, his eyes darting from face to face, clique to clique. From under his hood he could feel his face burning and his ribs ached. He was going to do this tonight – he could think about getting help tomorrow.

After five minutes of searching he felt faint again. His stomach was full of acid and he hadn't been able to keep anything down all afternoon. The school nurse said he was in shock, that he might have internal damage – he could press charges. But Peter just wanted to give back everything he'd taken. Nothing was more important to him.

Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw her. Sarah was standing on her own near a booth where she was watching someone – her brother? – playing a game. It was strange looking at her in her own little world, away from her normal bitchy friends. She was dressed all wrong – leggings and a long sleeved woollen jumper. Even her hair was down. This was a prime social event – why wasn't she looking her best?

His curiosity was dismissed as he tried to think of a way in which he could approach her without being seen. In the end he decided not to bother trying.

Sarah looked up at him with a blank expression before realising what it was he was holding. Her hand reached out tentatively and took the medal, rolling it around in her fingers. "Where did you get this?"

"I stole it." Peter said, frankly. "Now, I'm giving it back."

Peter expected an outburst, he didn't expect a clear, honest "Thank you."

He inclined his head slightly, turned around and walked calmly away, his heart racing inside his chest. Now he had to find Cole Steadman and give him back his Varsity ring.



"Who was that?" Robby asked, turning around to see Sarah staring after someone in the crowd. He was holding an enormous bear he'd won for her.

"No one." Sarah replied airily.

"I got this for you." Robby said, unprepared to grill her any further. She looked down at the bear and smiled, taking it from him. He'd never felt more comfortable in her presence, it was as if a dam had burst between them and now they could be friends again. His friends talked ceaselessly about how much they despised their siblings, but Robby knew he was different.

He looked down at his watch as they walked on to the next attraction. Around them he could feel people's eyes following Sarah – no doubt wondering who Robby was, or wondering what she was wearing or why she wasn't with her friends. But it didn't matter anymore, he had his sister back.

Frank should be here soon. He'd told him to meet Sarah around seven by the Dungeon Gate ride, with any luck he'd be able to bring them together at last. He knew it was what they both wanted.

"What are you up to?" Sarah asked, a glint in her eye.

"Nothing." Robby replied, perhaps a tad too sharply.

"All this kindness," Sarah replied, shrugging the bear and smiling, "After what I've said and done to you."

Robby shrugged it off, "Water under the bridge. I'm just glad now you see Cole Steadman the way the rest of the school sees him. A jerk."

"An asshole." She seconded, her face changing despite her smile. A shadow seemed to sweep over it and undo all the hard work he'd put into cheering her up.

"Look," he said, excitedly, "We can do anything. The night is yours. Let's just have fun." But it was clear Sarah no longer wanted to have fun. Robby was fighting a losing battle and he knew it. Despite all the bluster and bravado, she had actually felt something and Cole had hurt her. Robby felt wretched with despite. He wanted to tear Cole up and stuff him into a body bag. When he looked up again though another change had swept over her features.

Robby turned around – they were standing near the Dungeon Gate sign. Frank was waiting for them.



Sarah stopped in her tracks and looked at him standing under the bright lights. Robby noticed him too and between the three of them a moment passed where no words were needed. They knew each other all too well. They'd been the only kids on the block. Despite High School splitting them apart some friendships just refused to go away.

Suddenly the Bear felt heavy in her arms and she passed it to Robby who seemed to see this as a sign for him to retreat. Sarah's skin flared up in a blush. What did he think was going to happen?

"Are you okay?" Frank asked, a noble and chivalrous air about him. Sarah smiled weakly and swallowed the bile of her emotions.

"I will be," she replied. This was too soon. She wasn't ready for a conversation like this. All she could feel was guilt and embarrassment.

Around them jocks and cheerleaders were ganging up to go on the ride and for the first time that evening she could feel their eyes watching her. Not for the first time in her life, the familiar embarrassing feeling of standing with Frank came over her like nausea. He was her friend. Didn't they see that? Had they stuck by her? Had they invited her to the Carnivale? No. It had taken the kindness of her brother and the pulsating warmth of Frank's presence to make her understand that she was beneath them, unworthy of the company. Her skin crawled.

"I heard you broke up with Cole." Frank said pithily.

Sarah nodded, "He was cheating on me with Tracey Dawkins." She replied, devoid of feeling. After the fact, the events of the afternoon had left her numb. She was welcome to him, she tried thinking, hating herself for not believing it, hating herself for wanting to cling to his affection.

She watched Frank's chest fill with air and consternation which only made her feel worse. She looked away. She was beginning to hear the whispers.

"Sarah! Frank! Come on the ride!" Robby called to them from the queue. Frank looked up and smiled, Sarah glanced over and saw her brother's earnest face among a crowd of hostility and derision. All at once the gall she'd felt for herself and Cole and Tracey inverted itself on the people who stood there judging her now. Screw it, she thought, joining her brother in the queue, her old pride returning with its new face. If they wanted to laugh at her, let them laugh.

"Cole!" She heard someone whouting. It was Tracey. She was further back in the queue and looking through the crowd to a small parting where Cole Steadman was standing, looking murderous.



Cole was already drunk by the time the car squealed to a halt across the gravel car park. Numbly he fell out and into file with his friends who'd stolen a keg of beer from somewhere. After a day in his basement with a bottle of whisky, Cole felt like having a party. Tonight, no one could touch him. Tonight was his.

The hours past in a blur of pop guns, hotdogs and cigarrettes. The taste of alcohol and smoke filled him with a raw, base passion that swole in his belly, making him feel invincible. Around him, the music was blearing, the people swayed past in colourful waves and the crowds parted as he strode through, King of the Carnivale.

He was just managing to forget about Sarah and Coach and the day's events when his bladder demanded a rest. Cole stumbled away from his friends, down inbetween the tents and trailers into the darkness of the surrounding field. Above him, stars were twinkling above the pines and it almost felt good to be alive as he emptied himself into the gloom. Blood was pounding in his ears and his breath came thick and fast, his lungs swelling with life. Who needed girls, who needed football?

As he enjoyed the moment an alien sound drifted into hearing. Someone behind him was whimpering. With his flies done up, Cole swung around and peered into the shadows. He couldn't see anything. Vaguely he could hear the crying over the beat of the Carnivale and he followed it slowly and surely until he found a silhouette in the gloom, cowering by one of the tents.

"What have you got to cry about?" He demanded, noticing for the first time that his words were slurred together. The figure wiped its eyes and stood up.

"You," it muttered with incredulity.

"Me?"

"Stay away from me." It stammered, "And stay away from the Dungeon's Gate." It cried, moving away. Cole, angered at what he didn't understand followed the voice's source, gripped it by the arm and spun it around.

"Dione?" He spluttered.

"Steadman." She replied with a dread certainty. Dione tore her arm away from Cole and stormed off.

Cole was left standing inbetween two tents staring at the space Dione had just been standing in. He knew her vaguely from school. She was a good athlete, their paths crossed from time to time but he couldn't remember any specific emnity between them.

"Cole?"

He spun around to find one of his friends staring at him with concern. "It's Sarah. She's here dude – with Ryker."

Again Cole could feel his blood beginning to boil. Sarah with Frank Ryker!

In a haze of anger and fear he was led through the crowds – minutes, hours passed and he wouldn't have known. A space cleared before him like a sea parting. Before him was a hideous ride adorned with goblins and knights on horseback with a long queue snaking away, all staring at him. Vaguelly he heard someone calling his name but his eyes were only for Sarah. Distantly he saw her head next to Ryker's – they were being guided across to one of the carriages.

"Steadman!" Dione called from behind him but he ignored her. What could she want? Couldn't she see that his girl was with another guy??

Cole cleared the way before him but not fast enough. He tore at people, gripping them by the collars and pulling them out of his path, climbing over their fallen forms, stamping violently at hands, faces and feet until he reached the walkway that led to the carriage. Sarah was getting in, Ryker was standing behind her with her brother.

At his side someone stuffed something into his hand. It was his Varsity ring. His drunken eyes stared at it open mouthed and livid. Where on earth - ?

His hand lashed out and grabbed the guilty looking freak cowering away from him. Swiftly, Cole tore away the hood revealing Peter. All of his anger and frustration caught in his throat as he stared at the injuries on the boy's face. He was barely recognisable. A dreadful desire to explain everything came upon him in an instant and his grip on Peter's wriggling, terrified body didn't loosen as he dragged him towards the carriage.

Every uneven footfall could be heard across the metal walkway as it led upwards. Behind him he could hear the sounds of irate kids. In front of him stood the attendant, but if he thought he was going to get in Cole's way then he was sorely mistaken. The man barely had time to utter a syllable before he was slung over the railing.

"Ryker!" Cole bellowed, throwing Peter bodily into the back seat of the carriage. "Get the hell away from my girl!"

Frank stood up and bore down on him, a savage intensity evident in the air between them. "Your girl? Stay away from her you cheating scum!" Frank spat in return. Cole hadn't known what to expect, but he hadn't expected that. For a moment he was floored. What did Frank mean? Evidently he believed it, but Cole didn't know what he was talking about.

"What?" He asked, his voice sounding small and quiet.

"You know." Frank replied, his face twisted with disgust. "Stay the hell away from us."

Us? Cole didn't hear anything after that.

He was propelled forward by his own fury and sense of injustice. He didn't feel Dione behind him pulling him away, didn't feel as he tore her off him, striking her down onto the seat. In a flurry of energy he threw himself on the carriage as it began its inexorable movement towards the maw of teeth that formed the mouth of the Dungeon Gate. Blind anger swallowed everything for Cole as the darkness of the ride enveloped them all.