Miranda
She didn’t answer me right away, so I asked again.
“Are you all right?”
Flor had come running out to the front of Rancho Maldonado just as I was about to get up to go look for her.
Her eyes were red and her cheeks were all splotchy. She sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. For a second I thought she might run away again, back to the shed or after her pig. But she was still, staring at the carnival rides behind me.
She batted her hair out of her face. “Have you ever been on the Cloud Chaser?”
I knew I should have been rehearsing. Dad was probably pacing inside Wicked Wanda, wondering where I was. Actually, he was probably stomping back and forth in front of Wanda, gnawing on that pencil he always kept in his shirt pocket to make notes on our performances. There wasn’t enough room inside for the kind of pacing he’d be doing this close to showtime.
At least the line wasn’t very long. If I got back by 6:15, we would still have an hour to practice and check the sound. That would leave me with only ten minutes or so for hair and makeup, but since Dad had banned makeup and I’d be wearing a hat, it probably wouldn’t take that long anyway.
I wiped my palms on the sides of my skirt. As bad as I felt about disappointing Dad, I felt worse about letting Ronnie and Junior down. I could tell them I’d gotten lost on the fairgrounds, or that I had gotten stuck in the crowd. Or I could tell them the truth: that Flor had said a ride would help cheer her up, and I just couldn’t say no.
I stood on tiptoe to see how many people were still ahead of us.
“Do you have somewhere to be, or something?” Flor asked.
Maybe she was still angry. Maybe she thought I wanted to back out.
“Yes. But, no. I mean, I do have somewhere to be, but not right this second. I have some time. It’s just that my dad’s been expecting me. For hours. That’s all.”
The line lurched forward.
“If you don’t want to be here…”
“No, I do.”
The Cloud Chaser was round like a carousel, only instead of horses it had swings that hung from the top by metal chains. And instead of turning in slow circles to an old Wurlitzer recording, it rose above the rooftops and turned so fast the swings flew out slantways.
Don’t scream, I reminded myself. There wouldn’t be enough lemon wedges on the whole fairgrounds to save my voice after what I’d already put it through that day.
Another group of riders raced out to find their seats. “Fasten your seat belts,” the operator said. Everyone fastened their seat belts. Everyone followed directions. I was good at it too, following directions. I pulled down on the brim of my ball cap.
Maybe the only reason I had made it this far was because I had always done whatever Dad told me to. Maybe if I stopped listening to him, I would never make it any further.
Cold, hard fact: I might never have even found those nachos if Flor hadn’t been there to tell me where to go.
I had thought I was taking charge when she and I went back to Carolina’s Cantina to sing for tips, but even then, I was still just following Dad’s plan. Step by step, the same routine we had followed every weekend before we joined the carnival.
Flor hadn’t taken her eyes off the ride for more than a moment or two since we got in line. She watched it climb, turn, come down again.
I tried to get her attention. “Hey.”
She just kept staring.
“Hey,” I said again, louder.
She faced me. “We don’t have to get on if you don’t want to.”
“What? No, that’s not what I meant. It’s just, can I ask you a question?”
“Yeah?”
“When we were talking about the side stage earlier? And you said you heard the band was overrated? Well, what exactly have you heard about them?”
I held my hands behind my back to keep from biting my nails.
Flor turned toward the Cloud Chaser again. She tucked her bangs behind her ears.
“Oh, the side-stage band? I thought we were talking about some other band. I heard the side-stage act is pretty good, actually. Great lead singer.”
I knew she was only saying what she’d heard, but still, I was almost as thrilled and surprised as when Dad had told us we’d be playing on the main stage. I wanted to ask more, but it was our turn to get on. The guy taking tickets held up his hand for a high five. Flor met it limply. “You’re new around here, aren’t you?” he said, waving me through. “Good thing you have Flor to show you what’s what.”
Floor tilted her neck and looked up at the ride. “How’s she running today?”
The guy looked up too. “So far, so good,” he said, knocking on a wooden fence post. “No problems all weekend.”