Carnival Fare

© 1998 Sharen Nehoda

At a little past five on Friday afternoon, David heard a knock at his door. It was Lori. He was glad to see her, but that still small voice sounded a warning. The realization that the guilt was directly related to Brenda’s less than enthusiastic hold on him was not consoling in any way.

He was getting too close to Lori. And she wasn’t easy to keep at arm's length, like Brenda. When she kissed him as she walked in, his emotions grew as jumbled as his will power.

"There's a carnival out at the old Fairgrounds near Clairmont. Wanna go?"

The way she bounced and tugged at his arm made the offer charmingly persuasive. How could he refuse?

Less than half an hour later they pulled into the Fairground parking lot. The carnival looked bigger than most, and poked out of the flat field in bright enticing colors. Seconds after the car stopped, Lori grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the biggest ride.

Although twenty-five, with her brown hair pulled back in a ponytail she looked maybe twelve. A petite woman, her upturned nose dotted with freckles completed the illusion. Bubbly, active, he found her exciting and outspoken. She differed so much from bland, unimaginative Brenda.

"Lori, why in the world do you like those wild, scramble-your-senses-till-you-want-to-puke rides?"

He had to laugh when she grinned and continued to steer him toward The Hammer. What the heck, he hadn’t eaten yet. Might as well take advantage. Lori had that kind of affect on him.

"You know, you're a big kid," he said. "Probably have a rubber ducky in your bathtub, too."

She waggled her eyebrows. "Wanna find out?"

He inhaled deeply of the carnival scented air. "Ah, the smell of cotton candy, beer and cheap perfume makes lovers of us all."

Her giggle mingled with the corny sound of the fake calliope music that issued from a wagon nearby. Against his better judgment, he bought two tickets. Soon his brains would be whirling around, affected by about ten G’s of force. Lori overwhelmed him in much the same way. He laughed to himself and shook his head.

***

"It's almost dark," Lori said, "Let's get on the Ferris Wheel and watch the lights come on over the midway."

David groaned, still dizzy from the other rides. He wanted to sit someplace still. "Aw, give a guy a break."

"I promise this one will be much more enjoyable. Even my Grandmother rides the Ferris Wheel, David."

Shamed into it, he followed. That was the thing about Lori, she always got him to do anything she wanted. And that was the problem. She was getting serious, and maybe he was, too. But there was Brenda to think about. He’d been dating her longer than Lori, and felt a commitment. And Brenda didn’t mind when he dated other girls. Lori did.

He plopped into the seat next to her and threw his arm across the back of the bucket. The ride rose slowly. Amber street lamps glowed to the West. Dots and splashes of light sprinkled the progressing shadows. High enough to escape the human concoction from below, a cool breeze blew the sweet fragrance of summer flowers into his face.

"Got to admit, it sure is beautiful up here."

Lori snuggled close. He knew what was coming. The way he felt right now, Brenda was no longer in the picture. But could he do that to her? He gazed at Lori’s inviting lips. He better straighten out his feelings before someone got hurt.

Lori’s passionate kiss muddled the thought. Brenda’s blue eyes suddenly splashed across his mind, and he shoved Lori away. Her surprise and pain were unmistakable.

"What's wrong?"

He glanced away when he saw her lip tremble. "I’m sorry, I just don't know what I'm feeling."

"What do you mean, David?"

The sound of her voice, quiet and full of hurt, made him look back. Her eyes had filled with tears. The realization that he just made a serious mistake descended over him with a cold trickle of apprehension.

"I mean, I enjoy our friendship, but I don't...love you." Why did he say that? He could see it hurt her. "I want us to remain friends, Lori." That sounded lame even to him.

Her mouth fell open as if she'd been slapped. Then the ride bumped to a stop and she jumped out as the carnie opened their basket. David grabbed for her arm, but she slipped away. As she ran, her soft sobs carried to him and his heart sank.

"Lori, stop!"

Already at the corner of the alleyway between the stalls, she disappeared from view. Sprinting, he arrived in time to see her step into one marked "Fortune Teller". The dark red curtain billowed out when she yanked it closed behind her.

He thumped his forehead with his fist. "That was a supremely stupid thing to say." And started rehearsing his apology as he walked toward the booth.

***

The Fortune Teller's booth seemed the only place to get away from David. She heard him shout her name from outside, and the sound stabbed at the wound he had given her.

A shuddering sob seized her. Why had he been so cruel? David was an average looking guy, thin, dark blonde hair. Nothing special. But the love she felt for him was deeper than any she’d known. She thought he loved her, too. Maybe she’d hoped for too much. He called her name again. Didn't he realize he'd caused her so much pain that she couldn’t face him? A terrible ache tore at her heart.

Overwhelmed by sorrow, she wiped at her eyes and looked around. No light shone inside, and she could barely make out a table in the center of the booth. What did it matter? The room was as dark as her mood.

Covered with a dark cloth, the table held the faint outline of a crystal ball. She stepped closer and flinched when she found she wasn’t alone. A vague figure sat in a chair, huddled down, a shawl over its head and upper body.

When she realized she had someone to talk to, her shock replaced itself with relief. "How much for a reading?" Maybe conversation would lessen the terrible agony David had caused.

The figure stirred, and lifted its head. She gulped in a stunned gasp as two glowing, yellow eyes stared at her through the black fold of the shawl.

Frozen like an animal trapped by a bright light, icy panic gripped her. As her heart pounded frantically, she tried to call out to David. She sensed the safety of his embrace just beyond the curtain. But the mesmerizing liquid embers had fixed their gaze on her and made it difficult to breathe. No sound came from her lips but ragged, panting breaths.

The amber glowing orbs drew closer, and a stale, acrid stench accompanied it. Unable to move, a numbing fear that she was about to die a horrible death filled her with cold certainty. Oh, David. I love you.

Breath, hot and coppery, touched the skin on her face. At any moment she expected to feel teeth sink into her flesh, but was helpless to defend herself from those terrible, paralyzing eyes. Whatever it was that housed them drew close enough that she saw its pupils. Thin, horizontal slits of soot in amber fire. They vanished briefly as it blinked.

Unable to endure more, unconsciousness enveloped her in a cushioning blanket of black.

***

David paced in front of the booth. What a jerk. He’d handled the situation badly and hurt her. Why had he done that?

He had dated Brenda for three years, but their relationship hadn’t progressed. Was he using her for an excuse not to get more deeply involved with Lori? Maybe Brenda didn’t care if he dated other women because she didn’t care all that much for him. It was obvious now that Lori loved him a great deal. He growled at himself and checked his watch.

Fifteen minutes had past since she went into the booth. What was taking so long? Had she left? He peeked around back. The smooth plywood surface had been painted to resemble a Gypsy wagon. There seemed to be no other way out.

After another five minutes treading the dusty soil outside the entrance, the decision to apologize compelled him to act. He’d beg her forgiveness in front of the fortuneteller if necessary. The heavy drapery slid aside on thick metal rings and he stuck his head in for a look around.

Except for two chairs and a table covered with a red velvet cloth, the dim booth was empty. Puzzled, a shocked disappointment filled him as he stepped inside. Where was she?

A crystal ball on a silver base sat in the center of the table. It was a cheap attempt at an occult atmosphere. He poked at the heavy draperies that covered the walls.

"Lori!"

As he searched for a hidden door, he ran his hand over the wooden surface. The unpainted plywood beneath the woven damask held no surprises.

"Idiot!" He cursed himself for waiting so long and stepped outside.

A carnie stood hawking his game of ring toss in the booth next door. His tanned face and rolled up sleeves spoke of a tough life. David approached with one hand up and hoped he understood the gesture to mean he needed help. The carnie turned a jaded eye his way.

"Do you know where the fortune teller is?"

"Magda left for supper over half an hour ago."

The carnie’s gruff response didn’t intimidate him. "No, that can't be. My girlfriend went in there twenty minutes ago, and now she's gone."

The rowdy scratched the side of his neck. "Look, bud, maybe she left you for a better lookin' dude, or took off while you weren't watchin'. I gotta get back to work. Wanna try your luck?" he asked and tipped his head toward the game.

"Maybe later... " David turned around just as a tiny woman wearing a long black skirt, and a colorful silk shawl walked up to the booth. "Magda?"

"Yes," she said, "you here for reading?"

Her thick accent had a Baltic quality that didn’t sound contrived. David guessed she might actually be from Europe, but doubted she was a true gypsy.

"No. A friend of mine went into your booth about half an hour ago, and disappeared. Is there another way out?"

The old woman squinted her eyes and looked him up and down. Judging by her wrinkled face, he guessed her age must have been at least eighty. Her snow white hair fell to her waist in a long braid.

"No, there is but one way in. You must have reading to find lady love," she said and gestured toward the booth.

It appeared that no one was going to give him a straight answer. "No thanks," he said, and turned away.

He wandered the pathway between the stalls and hoped to catch a glimpse of Lori. It struck him as odd that the woman had guess he’d lost a girlfriend. But then, she probably saw a hundred guys just like him every day. To be a successful fortuneteller you had to be able to read people.

Maybe if he had been better at it, he wouldn’t have made such a wretched mistake with Lori, or wasted so much time on Brenda.

While standing next to the Hammer, he remembered they had driven her car there. Anticipation rushed through him as he jogged to the parking lot. Her Monte Carlo sat quietly where they had left it. He leaned against the fender and waited for her to return.

Two hours later, he watched as the carnival shut down. A twisting knot of guilt in his stomach, he knew he’d have to call the police. Not only was Lori missing, but he had no way to get home. She had the keys.

***

The police dropped David off at his apartment. Their reassurance had only increased his distress from concern to anxiety. It disturbed him that they didn’t consider her a missing person, not for at least twenty-four hours. A lot could happen in that amount of time.

As apprehension crawled in his gut, he knew something was terribly wrong. If anything happened to Lori he’d never be able to forgive himself. Had he been more honest with himself and accepted his true feelings none of this would have happened.

And, if Brenda wasn’t history before, she certainly was now. Not that she would care one way or the other.

"Please God," he prayed, "keep Lori safe and allow me the chance to apologize." He didn’t know if he could undo the hurt he’d caused, but he would try.

A glance up at the clock showed it was just after midnight. He climbed into bed, then thrashed around, unable to get comfortable. Lori's angelic face, full of tears, kept tormenting him. The clock read three-twenty before he finally drifted off to troubled sleep.

***

On cold, hard stone, limbs like leaden weights, Lori returned to consciousness. Gripped by a soul numbing fear that she was on a morgue slab, she opened her eyes.

Blackness.

Alarmed, she put her hands to her face. Unable to see anything in the pervasive gloom, the memory of the yellow eyes gripped her with panic. She threw her arms overhead to make sure nothing was there, then sat up and strained her eyes in all directions.

The lonely silence was broken only by the pounding of her heart. Where in God’s name was she?

The obscurity around her was cool and still. A faint acrid odor she remembered from the fortune teller’s booth cut through the darkness like a warning. Beneath it the putrid stench of rotting flesh carried to her nose.

Skin prickling, she recalled the anticipation of a violent death to the unknown creature. Had it taken her to its lair to savor at a more leisurely pace?

She ran her hands over her body and found no injuries. Other than the cold that radiated up through the stone floor, she felt fine. A shudder rocked her. What had brought her to this black pit? Icy silence surrounded her.

A scraping sound came from somewhere over to her left. She stiffened and held her breath. Was her death approaching? The noise rasped again, but was accompanied by a low whimper that sounded human.

"Is any body there?" The scuffing stopped, but she could hear muffled breathing. "Are you hurt?" she asked the blackness.

She heard a moan, then "No more pain!" said in a pleading whimper as the shuffling sound moved away.

"Wait! Tell me where I am." She paused and listened, blinking against the dark. "Please."

"Who are you?" the voice whispered.

"I'm Lori. Who are you?"

"Randy."

"Please, Randy, tell me what's going on. Why am I here?"

Randy started to giggle, a spine-chilling, maniacal sound. She recognized it as the laughter of a madman. The giggle grew fainter and farther away, echoing eerily in the darkness.

"Wait! Randy, Please come Back!" But the giggles just faded into the blackness.

***

The next morning at seven, the night's events jarred David awake. With a quick grab for the phone, he dialed Lori's number. Her machine picked up. With a sinking heart, he left a message.

"Hi, Lori. I'm a jerk, and I apologize. I want to make it up to you. Please call me."

When he replaced the receiver in its cradle, he stared at the phone for a long time. He hoped she was home but not picking up.

By noon, she hadn't phoned. Restless and unable to take the uncertainty any longer, he drove to her apartment. No one was there. A heaviness settled over him and he returned to the fairgrounds. Her car remained where they had parked it.

Not knowing where else to start, he went back to the fortune tellers booth. He wondered if Magda could be involved somehow. It surprised him when she came to the doorway and held open the curtain. How did she know he was there?

"I knew you would return," she said.

Dismissing it as coincidence, he put twenty dollars in her hand, then grabbed her arm.

"I want to know where Lori is," he said. "I don't want a reading, I want the truth!"

When he gave her arm a shake, Magda stared at him with a dreamy expression. He thought she was about to fall asleep, but then her eyes flew wide open.

"She is a lost one!" her voice quavered, "a lost one..." and fainted.

David caught her under the arms and lowered her to the ground. The ring toss carnie jumped over his counter and rushed to her side.

"Hey! What's goin' on!"

"She fainted," David said.

Magda moaned as she revived. The carnie helped her to her feet and steadied her as he held onto her arm. David realized this wasn’t an act, the woman had turned white as chalk.

"Ray, some water, please," she said, "is okay," and made a shooing gesture.

Ray gave David a hard look, and left.

"Young man, I must talk to you." She rubbed her temples and winced. "Your friend, Lori," she said quietly, "something bad happen here, to her. I feel she is lost, lost to the world of light. Something have her. Took her to the dark. Oh, so dark I cannot see!"

She waved her hands in front of her eyes like a blind woman. Fear spread through him as he listened. Her words, although strange, were convincing and agreed with the nagging suspicion he had felt since the night before.

Magda grabbed her head and moaned. "I am afraid for her. I have felt this was bad place. Oh, so very, very bad."

"Who has her?"

"What have her, I do not know. The happiness gone, only pain! Something...." She kneaded her temples with her fingertips.

"What does bad place mean?"

"Oooh. Head hurts. Must rest."

Magda pushed him aside and stepped into the booth. Ray appeared moments later with a plastic cup and disappeared behind the curtain.

David stood there, mystified. Something had her? She was a lost one? Light and dark? Happiness and pain? Bad Place? If he believed what Magda said, Lori was in terrible danger. But, it could very well be the ravings of a senile old woman playing on his own concerns.

Ray closed the drapery behind him and shrugged at David.

"Please, Ray, I could use a little help."

"What do you wanna know?" Ray frowned and crossed his arms.

"Has anybody ever disappeared from here before?"

"Sure, that ain’t nothin’ new. This is a carnival, man, there’s all sorts hangin’ around. Since we’ve been here, about two months now, I heard of a couple."

David didn’t think he was hiding anything. Although abrupt and coarse, Ray seemed truthful. "Who was the last person you heard was missing?"

"A kid about seventeen turned up missin' last month. Cops said he ran away from home 'cause his dad just died. Couple weeks before that a little girl. I don't know if they ever found her, either. Coulda been some weirdo, I suppose."

Ray turned toward his booth, a teenage boy was looking around. "Hey, man, I gotta go. Good luck on finding your girlfriend," he said, and jumped back over the counter.

David couldn't shake the feeling that Lori was in danger. "People just don't vanish, someone has to take them," he said, then added quietly, "Or something."

***

The next morning David went back to the police station. It had been longer than twenty-four hours and he was getting desperate. They had to search for her now.

A Detective Evans took him into his office. Huge and hulking, Evans looked about forty-five years old, with a large, plump nose and heavy eyebrows. David thought he could get information out of a rock. It surprised him when Evans turned out to be kind and understanding, the opposite of his looks.

While David explained what had happened at the carnival, he tried to make Evans understand the danger he felt without resorting to telling him the details of his visit with Magda. "I don't know what else to do. I feel responsible for what's happened to her. Can you help me?"

"Don't beat yourself up over this, David." Evans reached over and patted him on the shoulder. "The odds are she'll show up, and you'll get your chance to apologize."

David shook his head and frowned at the floor. How could he make Evans realize Lori was in grave danger?

"Look at it this way. If you decided to leave town tomorrow and not tell anyone, does that make you a missing person?"

"No." David scratched his head in frustration. "But what if someone suspects foul play. What if someone knows," he paused and frowned, "feels, there is something terribly wrong."

"We’ll need something more to go on than just a feeling. Bring me something more than an abandoned car, and I can help you. Until then, all I can offer is a missing person's report.

"Great." Discouraged, he got up to leave.

"Good luck, son."

There was sympathy in Evans’ eyes as held open the door.

David drove back out to the Fairgrounds. The carnival had closed for the season, and was gone. The acreage held only worn footpaths, trash drums overflowing with garbage, a few paper cups and bits and pieces of litter swirled around in the brief gusts of wind that cut across the field.

Disoriented by the vast openness, David wandered, trying to find where the Fortuneteller’s booth had been. He walked in a circular pattern outward, hoping to find something of Lori's, anything that might give him a clue.

A scattering of popcorn and a garbage drum full of cups, marked where the concession stand had been. With a better idea of where he was, he retraced his steps to the area of the fortuneteller's booth.

He gazed over the flattened sod. Small tussocks of grass marked where the corners had been. He evoked the memory the stall, stepped through what had been the doorway, and walked toward the back. At one spot on the ground, his plodding shoes returned a hollow sound.

On hands and knees, he pounded across the grassy surface. Where the resonant noise had come from the turf was elevated slightly. Using his fingertips he grasped the meager rim with both hands and pulled. A circle of ground rose slightly, but the weight was more than anticipated. He dropped it back into place, unsuccessful on his first try.

The area covered by the slab appeared to be over two feet across. He tried to estimate the weight of that much earth, but decided it depended on how thick it was. In desperation, he pictured Lori trapped beneath the ground and heaved up with all his strength. The earth yawned open like a trap-door spider's den.

Cone shaped, the sod and dirt cover made a dull thump as it fell back onto the ground. Astonished, he peered into an opening large enough for something his size to shimmy down without any problem. The hole descended about five feet, then turned to the right before it disappeared into blackness.

Inspecting it closer, he noticed claw marks gouged the walls. With a shudder, he realized it must have been dug from the soil and rocks by a large, powerful animal. Something, maybe a bear, had grabbed her and dragged her down. So, why hadn't she screamed? The claw marks gave him gooseflesh.

He ran back to his car to get the flashlight and four flares that were in the trunk. After a moment's consideration, he picked up the lug wrench, just in case.

He hesitated at the opening, then dropped down into the dark tunnel. The scoured walls exuded an earthen odor mixed with a bitter rankness that made the hair stand up all over his body. He squirmed with uneasiness as he backed into the unlit passage. About ten feet in he was ready to bolt for the surface, chased by imagined bogies. Then, to his relief, it widened enough for him to turn around.

The beam of the flashlight shone ahead, its meager light unable to penetrate more than a few feet of blackness. The musty odor of the earth made the walls seem closer. A small amount of loose dirt on the floor showed no tracks, and overhead were more claw marks.

Hand trembling, he reached up and touched one of the marks. It was deeper at one end, and he realized something had clung to the ceiling there. He struck a flare, and dropped it ahead of him, hoping the light would illuminate more of the tunnel. It showed a gently downhill slope that disappeared into shadows.

Something golden flashed in the dirt about a yard from his hand. He scrambled forward and plucked one of Lori’s earrings from the dusty soil.

Elated he’d found something to prove she’d been here, but more frightened than ever that something terrible had happened to her, he clutched the hoop tightly in his palm. A glance around the tunnel and he knew he needed help. He turned around and clambered for the surface.

***

Interested in his find, Evans volunteered to help him investigate, but only in an unofficial capacity.

"You’ve got to understand, son, that earring could have fallen off while she was in the Gypsy’s booth. It’s just circumstantial, not proof of any foul play."

"Yeah, I know. But you think different."

Evans nodded his head then winked. "You’re right. But according to policy it isn’t enough to go on. Instead, we’ll just be out hunting badgers."

Evans seemed to be joking, but David realized the man was dead serious as he watched him load a shotgun. Then he put a whole box of flares, two powerful halogen lamps and extra batteries into two backpacks.

At the entrance, Evans hunkered down at the edge and held the lamp out. When he inspected the claw marks, he whistled low.

"That's one big badger hole! Musta been made by one helluva big badger. You say you already climbed down there?"

"Yeah, but only as far enough to turn around. There's a pucker factor of about ten down there."

Evans clapped him on the back.

"So, I'm the reinforcements, eh? Your smarter than you look."

"Thanks." David didn’t think he was smart at all. In fact, he felt like a coward for asking Evans to help. "You ready?"

Evans lowered himself over the edge and dropped to the bottom. He had difficulty getting around the bend in the tunnel. After some huffing and puffing, he looked up and smiled.

"Too bad we didn't bring rope. You might have to pull me out of here!"

A few tense moments later, Evans head disappeared from view and David climbed down. When he caught up to Evans, he pointed out the claw marks overhead. The big man scowled.

"Let's do it," he said.

At about twenty feet, the tunnel gentle slope took a more severe angle downward. David stopped when it split into two separate shafts. One slanted back toward the surface, the other downward and curved to his right.

"Looks like we're going to have to split up anyway," Evans said.

"I’ll take the one that it goes back toward the surface. It might come out where she is."

David prayed she was alive. He looked over to the right and the gloomy darkness that lay beyond it and frowned.

"Yeah," said Evans, "I'd hate to think she was down that way, too. Looks like the entrance to a tomb."

Evans held the lamp in front of him so the light broke the blackness ahead. With a grunt, he began the descent. David watched him disappear then returned to the second tunnel.

The left shaft snaked back and forth for about sixty yards, then straightened out. Although claw marks were more prominent in some areas, he saw no signs of Lori. After crawling for about one hundred yards his knees felt raw and his back screeched for relief. He considered turning back until the tunnel angled sharply upward.

On the ground beneath the opening was a lone tennis shoe. A child's shoe. The sight of it made his skin crawl. The hard packed dirt at the top of the hole opened when he pushed up, revealing a far corner of the Fairground lot. David climbed out.

Over the open hole, he looked around to get his bearings. The Ferris Wheel had been almost exactly over the spot. Since he’d found no further signs of Lori, he decided to walk to the original hole and find Evans from there. Perhaps he’d had better luck.

***

The tunnel enlarged enough for Evans to stand hunched over at the shoulders after he passed two more side shafts. He figured he was about fifty feet underground, and still no sign of Lori. Thankful he wasn’t claustrophobic, he felt the pressure of the narrow walls anyway. That poor girl.

Seventy yards farther he stopped and shined the lamp to the right. The tunnel continued to screw itself into darkness. The claw marks overhead had become deeper and more numerous, the ceiling literally cross-hatched with thousands of gouged out slashes.

There had been no blood, and that was a promising sign. What could have brought her down here? He listened to the eerie stillness around him. Only his hushed breathing broke the quiet. What creature had made those marks and where was it? Uneasiness trickled through him as he gazed at the farthest reach of the beam.

The lamp flickered, and he thumped the case. The battery was low. In the thick blackness the weakened rays cut a thin path through the gloom. He removed the fresh dry cell from the knapsack and loosened the screws on the lamp. Halfway through the procedure he froze.

A strong, caustic stench had mixed with the musty odor of the tunnel. Evans glanced around the tunnel, but the lamp's faint light barely punched through the shadows. Unable to see anything, he raised the shotgun.

His spine sent a clear message to get out, but he tried to hold his ground. Despite his effort, he began to back out anyway. A crawling sensation slid up between his shoulder blades. To his horror, hot breath mingled with the perception.

Evans swung the lamp and shotgun around. Two eyes of burning coal glowed at him. Then the fading lantern revealed something he thought existed only in fairy tales.

***

Lori groped around on the floor and found her purse. Desperate, she rummaged around until her fingers found what she wanted, matches. She always carried a box of wooden kitchen matches, a Swiss army knife, a small first aid kit, and dental floss in her purse.

David teased her about it, but she would always tease him right back. Usually she’d ask, "Are you prepared?"

He would pat his wallet and say, "Sure!" then add with a silly grin, "Wishful thinking?"

Oh, David. Despair descended over her and brought back the pain in a heart-crushing wave.

Something, not too far away, sighed loudly. It struck her as odd that is sounded like contentment. She slipped the purse strap over her shoulder and around her neck, then struck a match. A loud squawk of pain, followed by a low grunt and a scratching, scrambling noise echoed around her.

The tiny flame revealed very little of where she was, and promised to go out quickly. She searched around on the floor and found an old scrap of cloth. When she set it on fire the squawk turned into a fierce roar of agony. A vague, dark figure disappear into the blackness.

"Light!"

It was Randy's voice, and he sounded thrilled. If he was excited, so was she.

"Randy, help me keep the fire going. Bring me something I can burn."

The scrap of cloth flashed brightly as it was consumed by the flame. Lori counted ten matches, and hoped there were enough.

The sounds of scuffing and scraping were punctuated by a satisfied "Good!".

A young man, dark circles around his eyes and a haunted expression on his face, appeared out of the gloom carrying a white stick and an armful of rags. As he got closer, he tossed a rag to her and she quickly added it to the dying flame. It smoldered, and appeared to be going out. When he cried out in dismay the contented sigh issued from a further recess of the cavern.

Leaning over the smoldering tatter of cloth, she blew lightly on it and it quickly burst into flame. Randy clapped his hands and screeched out a frenzied laugh that mingled with a howl from the darkness.

Not much more than a boy, Randy sat on his haunches by the meager flame. Caked with grime, his hair poked up in different directions, and his emaciated body was covered by torn jeans and a filthy tee-shirt. She thought he looked like a concentration camp victim.

Lori shuddered when she realized the stick he carried was a long white bone. His eyes, wide and bloodshot, were riveted on the fire as he poked at it with a human femur.

In a quiet voice he muttered, "Fire'll keep 'em away, fire'll keep 'em away..."

It sounded almost like a chant, or a prayer. Lori looked at the boy, pitying him, he looked so miserable. She heard the contented sighing again. Randy growled at the noise, but continued his litany.

"More rags!" he said.

As he scurried off into the darkness something in the blackness seemed to follow him. He swung the bone wildly around his head. Moments later he returned with an armful of grimy rags, still swinging the gory ivory cane. He grinned through green and broken teeth.

"My bed!"

He threw a rag on the waning fire, then resumed his benediction.

"Randy," Lori said gently, "can you talk to me? Maybe I can help you."

He stopped his chant, and looked at her with crazed eyes.

"You helped! Fire'll keep 'em away!"

He clapped his hands and laughed, a howling fearful sound.

"Keep who away, Randy?" she asked softly.

"Not who," he said, and looked side to side, "what."

As she snapped her gaze around, she expected to see something jump out of the dancing shadows. Randy threw another rag on the fire, the leaping flames casting strange shadowy shapes on his face.

"Trolls! Demons! Soul-suckers!" He shrieked, then began to chant again.

***

David passed a third and fourth tunnel, then spotted a lamp as he approached the fifth. Evans' lantern lay broken on the earthen floor. A startled jumpiness filled him when he saw the shotgun, snapped in two pieces, and a battery were scattered nearby. Cautious, he approached, and watched the shadows.

When he picked up the shattered lamp, he saw three jagged claw marks had split the rounded silver casing. The bulb and glass were smashed. He stared at the blood-spattered battery. The realization that he had changed his minutes before seemed like an omen.

As he bent to pick up the shotgun, a movement in the deep shadows to his right caught his attention. Two yellow eyes at ceiling level were fixed on him. With a cry of surprise he swung his lamp around and held it up.

A tremendous roar reverberated through the tunnel as a creature from a Brothers Grimm nightmare recoiled from the light. David's mind tried to make sense out of what he saw in that brief second. A troll? A demon?

Almost his size, the beast clung to the ceiling by long, curved claws. Coarse, black hair covered its fat body, but thinned over its broad chest and bloated stomach. A wide leather belt and a little pouch circled its waist. The lumpy head, shaped like a potato sack, had a huge lantern jaw and square, yellow teeth, a bulbous nose, and heavy brows that framed its glowing eyes.

Thickly muscled arms bulged as it scampered across the ceiling into the blackness. Roars and squeals followed its gravity defying escape.

Struck by the improbability of the beast, David panicked and fled to the surface. Once out, he watched the opening, expecting to see the horrible creature clambering out after him.

"Jesus, Jesus, Jesus!" he whispered and pulled at his hair. His legs suddenly gave out, and he slumped to the ground, holding the lamp in front of him like an offering.

"Lori," he whispered.

After collecting his senses, he scurried to the car and sped back to the apartment. There was no time to waste. Evans was either dead or wounded, and God knows what had happened to Lori. He had to go back, but this time he’d be prepared. Magda’s words echoed in his head as he pulled into a hardware store first. Light and dark.

Oh, yes. He knew what bogies lurked in the dark, and now he knew what kept them away.

***

Lori heard a noise off to her left. "Give me that bone, Randy, I have an idea."

Randy eyed her for a moment, then handed it to her. After wrapping a rag loosely around the end, she sprayed it with the perfume atomizer from her purse. When she stuck it in the fire it burst into flame as the alcohol ignited. Randy jumped and clapped madly. Holding it over her head, she followed the vague sounds that seemed to be coming from somewhere above.

Behind her, Randy shrieked and hooted as he danced around the fire in a frenzied, fearful way.

As she neared the source of the sound, she saw a form lying on the floor. Torch held in front of her, she realized it was a large man.

A thick film of blood covered the right side of his face. As she neared, she was frightened to see three deep slashes crossed his cheek from above his ear to his chin. When she knelt over him, he opened his eyes then winced in pain.

In the darkness, the disgusting, satisfied sighing began again.

Thrusting the torch at the sound, she yelled, "Get away!"

A shuffling noise and a low grumbling followed. But when the man groaned loudly, the sighing began again. It sounded greedy, almost hungry.

"Let me help you up, we have to get back to the fire."

"Are.. you Lori?"

The man winced when he spoke, and she knew it must have been terribly painful. The lacerations gaped and dribbled blood with each word. She hated to make him speak, but she had to find out who he was, and how he knew her.

"Yes, how did you know? Who are you?"

"David's been looking for you."

Relief washed over her as she helped him to his feet. When he got his balance she held his arm to steady him and they shuffled toward the distant fire. After a few steps he paused and took a handkerchief from his pocket and placed it gently against his torn cheek.

"I'm Detective Evans." He tipped his head toward the tunnel. "What was that thing?"

"I don't know what they are."

"Trolls maybe."

Lori helped him sit by the fire and propped the rag torch against a rock to give them more light. The area was off the side of the tunnel. With the increased light, she could see it was one of two distinct chambers. Clothing filled the second nearly to the top. Looking closer, she noticed it was also filled with bones. Human bones.

"If they're trolls, what do they want with us? Are they going to eat us?"

Crazy Randy stomped and danced around the fire, sometimes so close it looked like he would burst into flame. He snatched a burning rag from the pile and waved its smoldering end in front of him then leaned over and shrieked in her face.

"Pain! They eat pain!"

He whirled around and chucked the rag back into the fire, then returned to his frenzied capering in the flickering light.

Evans looked at Lori and raised eyebrows, an unstated question. She nodded and tapped her temple.

"That's Randy. I guess he's been here a while."

"Randal Kolstec? He's been missing since last month. He disappeared just after his father was killed in a car crash. Everyone thought he left to get away from his loss. Guess they were wrong."

"Yeah, really wrong." Lori looked at her hands. "I don't know what's going on here, but I do know they're either afraid of fire, or light hurts them. Randy says they feed on pain, and you said they're trolls. You look like you've had a pretty close encounter with one. Tell me what you think."

"Like I said, trolls maybe. There are all sorts of legends about things living underground, feeding off people."

He winced as he removed the handkerchief and checked to see if the bleeding stopped. Off to the left the greedy sighing started right away. It struck her that when he gritted his teeth the sighing stopped.

"If Randy is right, maybe they sniff out those whose pain is especially deep. Randy's pain from losing his father, David's rejection of you."

Lori looked down at her feet, the hurt welling up again. The sighing grew and she shouted, "Stop it!" and clamped her hands over her ears. The sighing became louder. The depravity and perversion in its sound tormented her, mocked her love for David. Evans grabbed her hands and pulled them down.

"Lori, listen to me. David is sorry for what happened, and he wants to tell you he was wrong. My bet is that David does love you!"

He had to shout over the sighing, but what he said filled her with hope. The sighing trailed off, but contented grunts echoed around them.

"It seems emotional pain is more tasty to them than actual physical pain. Randy has been down here for a month, and they haven't eaten him yet. Judging by the fatness of the one I saw, they've been feeding pretty well just off his emotions. But, I'll bet that since he's gone over the edge they had to find someone to replace that food source, and it looks like they chose you."

Lori shuddered, and couldn't help feeling sorry for Randy. What he had he eaten for the past month. The sight of the pile of bones made her wince. The sighing began again, and she had to think of sunshine and puppies to make them stop. This time they stopped abruptly, as if they had tasted something bad and spit it out. It gave Lori an idea.

"I think I know something that may help us get out of here. Besides light hurting them, I think pleasant, positive emotions disgust them." She felt excited, and a low grumbling echoed around her.

"Go on, girl," Evans said.

"We should," she giggled at the idea, "think happy thoughts, like Tinkerbell!"

Tinkerbell came out in a high, baby voice that made her laugh at herself. The sound of it was so out of place in the dark and menacing tunnel that Evans chuckled.

A sudden squeal, as if one of the creatures had been stung, echoed through the tunnel. Crazy Randy quit dancing. Something resembling sanity seemed to come over his face. Hope flickered in his haunted eyes.

"Happy?" he asked. "Get out of here? That would make Randy happy. Yes! That would make Randy very happy." He looked at Lori. "Please, make Randy happy."

She took a deep breath and sang, "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray."

Something squealed, it was a loud and angry sound. When Evans joined in with his deep bass profundo, she knew he had to be ignoring the sting from his torn face. His effort must have been enormous.

"You'll never know dear, how much I love you."

Another squeal, and the sound of claws scratching furiously.

Then Randy joined in, "Please don't take my sunshine away!"

The grumbling and squealing noises grew fainter and fainter, as the creatures raged and clawed their retreat deep into the tunnel.

She kept them singing as they made more torches from the bones and rags. When they were finished, she set the room of rags on fire to keep the trolls from coming after them. She had no idea of how long it would burn, but prayed it would give them the time to get away. Hope raced through her when they started up the long incline to the surface.

On the third chorus of: "Show me the way to go home," she noticed a glow ahead of them. It was David.

Illuminated like a Christmas tree from head to foot with flashlights, lamps, and even a kerosene lantern, David had returned to do battle with the beast that had kidnapped her. The sight restored her belief that he really did love her. As corny as it seemed, he truly was a knight in shining armor.

He had tears in his eyes when he grabbed her around the waist and kissed her.

"I love you, Lori. Please forgive me."

She tried to hug him, but the flashlights got in the way, so she kissed him on the cheek instead. "Forgiven. Now, let's get out of here."

"No, you get Evans to a doctor. I have something to do first."

"What?" Lori glanced at Evans, who looked as anxious to get out of the tunnel as she felt.

David pointed to a pallet behind him. On it was a box of dynamite and some other equipment.

"Where did you get that?" Evans asked.

"Let’s just say I borrowed it from the highway department. I think under the circumstances it was justified."

Evans nodded, and she slipped past him in the narrow tunnel.

"I already primed the side tunnels, and will be finished down here in about an hour. Come back and watch the fireworks, okay?"

"Be careful, David. I don’t want you lost down here," she said as she helped Evans by the pallet.

"Don’t worry. I’m going to make sure nobody goes missing down here again."

She watched as he headed down the tunnel whistling 'It's a Small World."

***

David waited for Lori to return. It took her longer than he expected, almost two hours, but she got back just as the sun was setting.

"Hey, glad to see you could make it. How’s Evans?"

"Evans was still getting stitches when I left, the doctor said it would take about two hundred. Wow, can you believe that? So what’s going to happen now?"

He’d placed a blanket on the ground about fifty yards from the fairgrounds opening. The compass had shown the tunnels ran east to west, and he made sure he was well south them.

"Better lay down on your stomach and watch this from a low angle," he said and got down on the comforter.

"You know I haven’t even had a shower yet, I smell pretty rank," she said as she joined him.

"Lori, I’d love you no matter how bad you smell."

When she punched him in the arm it made him laugh. "Okay. Ready?" He handed her the detonator.

"I get to do the honors?"

"Yep."

She twisted the switch and a low thudding reverberated through the ground. A large puff of dust spewed from the original opening, then more dotted across the fairgrounds in hazy gray clouds.

A deep rumble like thunder shook the earth beneath him, and he threw his arm across Lori’s back. All across the field large sections of earth bulged then dropped. As the rumble subsided, he lifted his head to assess the damage.

Clairmont fairgrounds was no more. The once flat field was now a wasteland of deep ruts and craters. It appeared to have been devastated by a bombing run. Nothing could have survived the destruction.

"It’s over," he said and kissed Lori’s sweet lips.

"I hope you’re right," she said, and kissed him back.

***

On the evening news about a month later, a story out of Taos, New Mexico caught David’s attention. It showed a carnival set up just south of town in a flat, open field. A stern faced reporter was describing the disappearance of a young girl of ten just after dark the day before.

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