The Power of Un (11 page)

Before long Ash and I were walking side by side through the autumn night toward Lafferty Park and the carnival. Ash was so excited he could hardly stop talking. “Oh man, I hear the people on the rides! Smell the popcorn? Hey, Gib, what should we do first? How about the Devil’s Elevator!”

It’s hard to describe how much I wanted to feel just the way Ash did—bursting with joy at the prospect of so much fun right around the corner. But I’d done it once already, and it had ended in blood and tears. It was impossible to forget, and I wouldn’t have wanted to forget it anyway. If I forgot about it, how could I stop it from happening again? There was also the fact, like a constant itch in the back of my brain, that the unner sat right there in my pocket. I had this incredible device that Ash had helped me learn to use. But now he knew absolutely nothing about it. I couldn’t stand it another second.

“Ash, look, stop a minute,” I said. “I have to tell you something.”

He stood still and really looked at me for the first time that evening. “What’s wrong?”

I sighed and took the unner out of my pocket.

The scene that followed was eerily similar to the one in the forest that had happened … when? Well, the scene that might have happened the next morning in some other life. As I showed Ash the unner, I felt that strange pressure that meant I was changing the way things had originally happened. And I wondered again whether I, or anyone else, had a right to do such a thing. There didn’t seem to be an answer.

We sat in silence on the curb while dead leaves whirled along the pavement in a breeze that came and went.

“This is very weird,” said Ash.

“You’re telling me.”

“You mean, if you hadn’t stood up and taken the blame for Frogner’s spitball this afternoon, Roxy would be run over by a truck tonight?”

I nodded. “The thing is, I’m not sure that really fixed it. I think something bad is still going to happen. Otherwise, why would the old guy have brought me the unner again and given me those warnings? I mean,
Take the unner with you tonight, don’t drop it in the leaves, and most important of all, don’t use it unless you have to
. Why would he do and say all that if he didn’t know there was more bad stuff to come?”

Ash shook his head, gazing at something faraway and invisible. “You think he was from the future?”

“It’s the only thing that makes any sense.”

He looked at me. “You wanna know what I think?”

“What?”

“I think he’s you. I think the old man is you visiting yourself from the future.”

“What?” I said again, stupidly, because I felt as if somebody had suddenly turned on a light in a dark room, and everything looked completely different from what I expected.

“He’s you. Think about it. That’s how he knows so much about you and Roxy. That’s how he knew you’d be in the woods.”

Why hadn’t I thought of it before? It explained everything. But … “How could he be me?” I said. “I mean, he’s so … so old. And shriveled. And weird!”

“I think it’s pretty cool, myself, if it’s true,” said Ash. “My best friend is the guy who invents time travel. So what if you turn out weird? Big surprise.” He flashed a grin.

I punched him, and he punched me back, and we both laughed. I still couldn’t quite believe it, though. I just couldn’t imagine myself being like that when I got old.

Ash stood up and dusted off his hands. “Come on, we’d better get over to the carnival fast,” he said. “That way, you and me and Rainy can all keep an eye on Roxy. And if anything bad happens, we’ll be right there with the unner to fix it again.”

“Yeah, but how do we know? I mean, how will I ever be sure I’m fixing the right thing? What if Roxy’s accident is
supposed
to happen?”

“Get serious,” said Ash. “Roxy’s accident is not supposed to happen. Bad things are
never
supposed to happen to kids.”

I wanted to believe him. I really did. But I thought about stories I’d read in the newspaper and about Roxy and the truck. Bad things did happen to kids. They happened all the time to people who didn’t seem to deserve them. I couldn’t even start to figure out what it meant to say they weren’t
supposed
to happen. How could anybody ever be sure about that?

“Come on!” said Ash. “We might as well have some fun while we’re keeping watch!”

He ran toward Lafferty Park, and I jogged along beside him, hoping with all my might that he was right, that Roxy’s accident wasn’t supposed to happen.

T
here it was, the whole scene all over again—the frantically moving colored lights, the clowns, the vendors swaggering past with big trays on their shoulders, shouting, “Peanuts, popcorn, cotton can-deee.” Only this time, instead of filling me with excitement, it made my stomach ache and my mouth go dry.

I sagged against an upright at the coin-toss booth. “I don’t think I can do this. It was so awful last time.”

“You
can
do it,” said Ash. “This is not last time. It’s
this
time. And we’re going to make sure it’s different, right?” He punched me in the arm, leaned crazily, and grinned into my face until I grinned back. I don’t know why, but smiling made me feel better.

“So what should we do first?” he asked.

I licked my lips and tried to think. The noise of
the crowd and the powerful music of the carousel made it hard to concentrate. “Maybe we should look around and see if we can spot Roxy and Rainy.”

“Sounds good,” said Ash.

So we spent some time ambling among the booths. A lot of little things were different this time already. Some rides weren’t in the same places, and there was some stuff I didn’t remember at all from before. For example, there was a Haunted House right next to the Freaks of Nature and no House of Illusions at all. And Madam Isis’s tent was no longer purple and yellow. It was red and black. My stomach started feeling better—maybe this time the night would be different. Maybe this time the mangy mutt wouldn’t be here. We bought corn dogs and ate them while we walked.

After half an hour, we still hadn’t run across Roxy or Rainy. Then Ash saw a booth with a radio-controlled airplane hanging from the prize rack, and his eyes got huge. “I’ve always wanted one of those,” he said. “I’m going to win that thing!”

The game was one where you try to knock down milk bottles with a baseball, and Ash is a really good pitcher. He knocked a whole bunch down, and the carny notched up the stakes, saying he was working his way closer to the airplane, just another fifty cents was all it would take. Ash was doing great, better than I’d ever seen before. His cheeks glowed, and his eyes
flamed with excitement. He seemed to forget about everything else and just kept reaching into his pocket for more and more money, as if he couldn’t help himself. He’d spent almost twelve dollars when the carny finally said, “This is it, chief. Knock this one down and you get the plane.”

Ash took careful aim, threw the ball as hard as he could, and missed.

“Sorry, chief. Better luck next time.” The carny handed Ash a small mirror with a deformed-looking horse painted on it.

“What’s this?” said Ash.

“It’s your prize. Nice work, kid.”

Ash practically went rigid. “But … wait a minute, I’m going to buy another try for the plane, O.K.?”

“No can do. Finito. No more chances. Though I
will
let you start over again, if you really want to.” The carny made it sound as if he was being generous.

Ash’s face turned radish red. “That’s not fair!” he shouted. “You took all my money!”

“Hang on there, chief. You
gave
me all your money.”

Ash threw the deformed-horse mirror in the dust and stamped on it. Shards of sparkling glass flew everywhere. It was so unlike him, I could hardly believe what I was seeing. Of course, I’d never seen Ash treated so unfairly.

“You cheater!” he yelled. “You cheated me! I don’t even have anything left for the rides now!”

The carny rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Go tell it to your mommy. Now beat it before I call security.”

Ash stumbled away from the booth with one arm over his eyes. He stood in the midway shaking with sobs, too stricken to move.

I pulled at his sleeve. “Hey, it’s O.K. I’ve still got plenty of money. I’ll lend you some for rides and stuff. It’s not a big deal.”

Ash pulled away from me, his eyes still hidden. I guess he wished I hadn’t been there to witness his humiliation. Sometimes trying to be a good friend just makes things harder on people.

I felt the unner hanging like lead in my pocket.
Don’t use it unless you have to
, the old man had said. Was it really me sending a message to myself?

But there was Ash, so mad and sad it made me want to cry right along with him. He was right—it wasn’t fair. He deserved another chance at that airplane. But how important was it, in the big picture of things, for Ash to win? By now I knew there was just no way to tell. How was I supposed to know when I
had
to do something and when I only
wanted
to?

Ash hadn’t asked me to use the unner, but I knew he must be thinking of it. I looked at him, hunched over as if somebody had punched him in the stomach. I had the power to help. What kind of a friend would stand there and do nothing?

I took the unner out of my pocket, turned it on,
and keyed in five minutes, just enough time for another try at the airplane. I closed my eyes and punched the red button.

Suddenly we were standing in front of the milk-bottle booth again. The carny said, “This is it, chief. Knock this one down and you get the plane.”

Ash took careful aim … and missed again.

I unned another ninety seconds. Another miss. I frowned and made a deal with myself. I’d give it one more try. If he missed after three uns, I’d take it as a personal signal from the universe and give up.

Ash missed again. The universe had spoken.

Just as before, the carny said, “Sorry, chief. Better luck next time,” and handed Ash the mirror with the horse on it.

“What’s this?”

“It’s your prize. Nice work, kid.”

I felt like hiding my eyes as Ash said, “But … wait a minute, I’m going to buy another try for the plane, O.K.?”

I thought I knew what was coming next. But if there’s one thing I know now, it’s that the universe hardly ever does what you think it will. The carny should have said, “No can do.” Instead, he sucked thoughtfully on his lower lip and looked at Ash as if sizing him up. I saw the moment when he made up his mind. “All right. One more chance. But only because I like you.”

Ash dug in his pocket and came up with a quarter. He grimaced and looked at me. “Borrow twenty-five cents?” he said. “I’ll pay you back tomorrow.”

I gladly rummaged through my own pocket and came up with some coins. It seemed like a much safer and more honest way to help than using the unner had. I slapped the money into Ash’s hand and said, “Blow ‘em away!”

Ash threw the ball, and the milk bottles toppled with a clatter. A moment later, he practically danced across the midway with the airplane under his arm, while the carny frowned as if puzzled at himself.

“This is the best night of my life!” said Ash.

I nodded, hoping he was right, fearing he might be wrong. There was absolutely no way to predict how Ash’s winning the plane might change things. Anything could happen now.

Suddenly, a dog trotted across the way in front of us. Not just any dog.
The mangy mutt
. I sucked my breath in sharply.

“What?” said Ash. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

“The dog! It’s the one Roxy ran after—will run after—into the traffic.”

Ash stopped and looked at me. “I just thought of something. Did this happen last time? I mean, did you know I was going to win the plane tonight?”

My stomach felt like there were worms squirming
around in it as I considered how to answer. “Yes. I mean, no. I mean, it didn’t happen like this last time. Everything’s already so different. Except that dumb dog. Why’d it have to be here?” I looked at my watch and felt even sicker. It was 8:15. I couldn’t remember exactly when the accident would happen, but I knew the time was getting close.

“Cheer up!” said Ash. “Look, if it didn’t happen like this last time, that’s a great sign, right? It means maybe everything else will be different, too. So what if the dog’s here? We haven’t seen Roxy and Rainy. Maybe they decided not to come.”

I glanced around. He was right. There was still no sign of them. I really,
really
wanted to believe that they hadn’t come. But there were hundreds of people in the carnival crowd. Roxy and Rainy could easily be there somewhere, even if we hadn’t seen them yet.

“I’ve got an idea,” Ash continued. “Let’s go on the Devil’s Elevator. Once we’re up there, we’ll be able to see the whole park. If they’re here, we’ll spot them.”

I thought it over. It was true that there was no better vantage point at the carnival. On the other hand, the last time I’d gone on that ride, I’d seen the world crash down around my shoulders. The idea of doing it again made me feel all scooped out somehow. I swallowed. It wasn’t easy. “O.K., I guess so,” I said in a small voice.

We made our way to the towering rid through
waves of strolling parents, excited children, and high-school couples holding hands. The air was thick with the mingled smells of dust, popcorn, and spilled soda pop. Ash picked out a woman behind the counter of a snack booth. She had dyed blond hair piled high on her head, dangly red earrings, and big gobs of green and purple eye shadow. But she smiled at people, and her smile looked real. He asked her to keep the airplane for him while we went on the ride, and she grinned, put one finger under his chin, and said, “Anything for you, cutie.” Ash grinned back, and I thought I might get sick.

I handed over two tickets for the Devil’s Elevator, and we stood in the line, which was short. I felt worse and worse as the minutes passed. Roxy had stood here, almost in this very spot, then run after the dog while I’d watched, helpless, in the metal cage above.

“Step inside, please.” The gravelly voice of the ride operator jolted me out of my waking nightmare. He steadied the cage and held the door open for us.