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The air was filled with laughter, music, and the aroma of popcorn and candy apples. The evening passed quickly for Michael as more customers stop to try their hand at knocking over the wooden bottles. He talked several players into taking additional chances, which help to build the take. By the end of the night Michael was exhausted. He closed his booth like his neighbors and followed them to Koslov with the receipts.
Michael stood, yawing, in line waiting his turn to give the night’s cash to the big Russian.
“Did ju count it?” the bear asked without looking up from his tally sheet.
“Oh right, yeah,” Michael responded.
“Well?” Koslov looks up with a scowl. “Jugonna tell me, or do I gotta guess?”
“Oh, sorry; it’s $3.25,” Michael says.
“Much better,” Koslov said recounting the money and placeed the bag of coins in a small strong box.
“Ju come back tomorrow and Monday. We open at one o’clock both days. Ju do as good, and I pay ju 20% of each day’s take. I pay on Monday after closing; if ju miss a day, ju get nothing, and don’t bother to come back.”
“That’s fine, thank you, Mr. Koslov.” He strolls off, happy with himself and excited at the prospect of the money. Koslov watched Michael walk back to the entrance gates. The lights strung around the field beside Our Lady’s Catholic Church wink out for the night.
Along Bottle Alley, the warm Indian Summer day has turned chill with the night. The Maple trees are losing their colorful leaves. They crunch under Michael’s feet. As he reached the corner of Adams and Watertown streets he spots the woman who argued with Koslov coming out of Sullivan’s tavern, arm in arm with a rough-looking character. Still wearing her costume of purple and gold, and her large hoop earrings catch the glow from the street lights. A flowing cloak guarding her against the night’s chill. The man has dark hair and a scruffy beard making Michael think he must be another carnival worker. Laughing, they stagger off towards Our Lady’s and the carnival grounds.
Crossing the street, her eyes met Michaels. She smiled slightly knowing he recognized her. Lowering her eyes, she whispers something to her companion in Russian, and they hurry away.
****
Ellen was patiently waiting at the gate to their home. She was relieved to see Michael coming down the road. She ran to meet him, and they walked together. “Oh, Michael, I had such a good time. The carnival is so exciting!
Tony got a friend to take the booth for a while, so he could show me around. It was wonderful! We talked and talked. He bought me cotton candy. Have you ever had cotton candy? It’s like eating sweet cobwebs! I didn’t want to leave, but I promised you . . . and Ma didn’t say a word. Can you believe it? I came back out to wait for you.”
“I wouldn’t get too excited,” he said as they reach the back door. “You know she has a way of finding things out. It’s kind of spooky how she does it.”
Ellen nodded her head in agreement. “Remember the time I was skating on the lake and hit that thin spot and fell in? Before I could get home to change my clothes, she knew about it. Mothers must have that third eye they talk about at the carnival. You know the one in the middle of their foreheads?”
“Or, maybe the two in the back of their heads,” Michael says, and they chuckle in agreement.
Michael opened the door and went inside, Ellen following at his heels. Moira sat at the kitchen table with a cup of tea in her hands and her crochet waiting beside her.
“You’re up late, Ma,” Michael said, his heart in his toes.
“How does she know” he wondered.
“So, did you two have a good time at the carnival tonight?” she asked, not looking up from her tea.”
“Someday I’m going to figure out how you do that,” said Michael, wondering what their punishment might be.
“You never will, because you’ll never be a mother. But, for your information, Ellen’s clothes smell of cotton candy and popcorn; yours do too. Ellen, go to bed. Michael, your Da would like to talk to you.”
Michael knew he was in for it now. Ma usually deals out punishments, at least since the accident. He walked reluctantly down the hall to the front room.
Donal Flannigan was reading. His glasses have slipped down his nose, and a glass of whiskey sat on the table beside him.
“Sit down, Michael.” Donal said putting the book he was reading down beside the glass. “This is a very good book; The Yearling by Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings. One of the benefits of being laid up is I get to read all the time.” he said, taking his glasses off and laying them on the table beside the book.
“You did a very foolish thing tonight; taking Ellen to the carnival. Anything could have happened. I understand that you kids want to get out and do things. I can’t believe that you and Ellen misled your Ma about where you were going. Ellen is young and foolish, but I expect better from you. What in Heaven’s name were you two thinking?” Donal said his voice raised at Michael.
“I’m sorry, Da. She wanted to see what a carnival was like, and I didn’t think it would do any harm.”
“That’s just it Michael, you didn’t think.”
“I went to get work. They are always hiring. I worked tonight, and I can have the job two more days. They leave town after Labor Day. It’s a good way to make
extra money. I was watching out for her, me and Tony. She was with Tony while I worked, and then she walked home.”
“Are you talking about that Italian friend of yours, Pellegrino’s boy? I hear tell he's a hooligan!”
“Tony’s okay, Da, he’s not a bad kid.”
Donal picked up his whiskey and took a sip. Setting the glass down, it spills. “Dammit!”
“Here, Da. Let me . . .”
“NO! I can do it,” Donal shouted and took out his handkerchief and clumsily wiped the table. But now he’s angry. More at himself for spilling the whiskey. “I’m not sure I want him hanging around our Ellen.”
“But we’ve all been friends for years. Tony has a good side. Maybe that’s what Ellen sees.”
“She’s much too young! Anything could have happened tonight. I can’t believe you were so foolish.”
“Yes, Da, I’m sorry, Da." Michael said, wishing he had the words to win the argument. “School starts again on Tuesday, and then she’ll be busy.” Michael almost said, ‘maybe she’ll find another boyfriend,’ but catches himself. That would start something I could never talk my way out of.
He left Da to his reading, happy he wasn’t questioned about working at the carnival. He realized Ma and Da had stayed up late specially to have this talk. Passing through the kitchen, he saw Ma had gone to bed. He hung his coat and cap on the hook by the door and headed up the stairs.
Frank was snoring softly when Michael turned on the light.
“Still got your head, I see.” Christopher said, sitting up in bed. “Oh, man, you’re in big trouble. I was afraid Da would knock your block off.”
Michael sat on the edge of his bed, pulling off his shirt. He untied his shoes, kicked them off, and tossed his socks aside. “Da already talked to me. I was wrong to take Ellen to the carnival, but she really wanted to go, and I didn’t see any reason why she shouldn’t. But now Da knows about her seeing Tony, and he’s not happy. How could I let them suck me into this! Maybe Ellen will lose interest in Tony once school starts.” But even as he heard the words spoken, Michael doubted it will happen.
“I can’t help you there, big brother. Guess it’s one of the hazards of being the oldest.” Christopher mumbled yawning, he turned over, and drifted back to sleep.
Michael finished undressing, turned off the light, and lay down. Leaves on the old oak tree outside his window danced in the breeze and deflected the glow from the streetlight. He watched the light show on the wall opposite his bed. The dancing specks remind him of the hoop earrings the gypsy girl wore. He replayed the scene of her arguing with Koslov, how she stormed off in a rage, and how each step produced a tinkling, musical sound. Her dark eyes flashed in anger as she pushed past him. He remembers the smell of her perfume and the way she
walked. Who is she? What was the argument with Koslov about? Her role must be that of a fortune teller in the carnival; what else could it be? Who was the man she was with leaving the tavern? Why can’t I stop thinking about her!
The sound of a police siren on Watertown Street interrupts Michael’s day dream as it moves off into the distance. He’s too tired to be curious and sinks into a deep dream filled sleep where tinkling coins collide with flashes of purple and gold.