Thunderland (23 page)

“We’ll have fun at the carnival. It’ll be a good break for both of us.”

“What do you need a break from? Playing video games all day?” She giggled.

“Hey, video games can wear you out.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

“Really.”

“Whatever you say. Don’t let me tell Mama. She’ll call you over to do some
real
work.”

“As long as I’m with you, I wouldn’t mind.” It was corny, but so what? He wanted to be carefree for a change.

“Aw, you’re such a sweetie,” Michelle said. She took his hand in hers, squeezing it gently as they walked.

Warmth spread through Jason. How could he have thought about canceling their date? With all that he had faced recently, he needed a couple hours of fun and laughter. Michelle was the perfect solution for his abraded nerves. As long as they were together, he would be happy and nothing would go wrong. Nothing.

Fifteen seemingly endless minutes later, the images on the television flickered into electric snow. Linda gazed blankly at the screen. She rose from the sofa and shut off the TV.

Slowly, she returned to the couch.

She had to sit. She felt off-balance, shaky.

She leaned back on the cushions. She stared at the ceiling.

Numbness lay like a marble slab on her body. She closed her eyes. She squeezed her hands into fists. Her heart began to hammer, beating so hard her entire body throbbed in unison with each pound. Sweat formed on her face in cold beads, her mouth dried up like a sun-scorched pond, and a single thought boiled in the depths of her storming mind, erupting into her consciousness with such power that she shouted it aloud.

“How the hell could he do this to me?”

Hadn’t she been busting her ass lately to rebuild their relationship? Hadn’t they talked about the importance of each of them doing their share if the marriage was to work? Hadn’t he given her his word that he had remained faithful to her?

Yes, all of those things had happened. But one fact nullified everything: Thomas only cared about himself.

Unable to sit, she sprang off the couch.

She didn’t give a damn about the woman who had filmed their little rendezvous. It could’ve been any woman. She didn’t blame her. She blamed Thomas. The bastard. The selfish, cheating, manipulative bastard. He’d been acting really funny the past few days. Finally, she knew why.

That asshole!

She paced through the house, cursing. Tears began to spurt from her eyes, and her weeping only made her more furious, more unsettled. She felt as if she would literally explode.

Wandering in a daze, she happened by the telephone in the kitchen. Without hesitation she snatched the handset off the cradle. Dialed The House of Soul. Hung up after the first ring, before anyone had answered.

To hell with calling him.

She was going down there.

If she remembered correctly, Thomas had set up a VCR at the restaurant, in the employee room, where the staff took breaks and watched training tapes. She didn’t care what he might be doing when she arrived—didn’t care if the president was in there chowing on greens, rib tips, and corn bread. She was going to march in and demand that he watch this tape. If he refused, she would play it anyway for his employees, and if they wanted, she’d buy popcorn and soda for their enjoyment as they viewed the show.

She was close to losing all control of herself. She didn’t care. If she tried to restrain her emotions, if she began to actually think about this madness, she would go crazy-before Thomas had been burned by the flames of her wrath.

She ejected the videocassette out of the machine and jammed it into her purse. Rushing out the front door, she got in her car, gunned the engine, and sped to The House of Soul.

The carnival was in full swing when Jason and Michelle arrived. Drenched in golden sunlight, the fairgrounds rocked, jumped, and twirled to the tune of a thousand people caught in an ecstasy of fun. The Ferris wheel, the Tilt-a-Whirl, the Dive Bomber, the Whip, the Caterpillar, the Whirl-Wind. Cotton candy kiosks, pokerino parlors, ring tosses, taffy-apple stands, and bottle pitches. The mouthwatering aromas of hot dogs, hamburgers, pizza, taffy, cotton candy, and pretzels. Bright colors everywhere; loud music pumping, pumping, pumping from scores of speakers; kids laughing, shouting, and screaming with glee. So much excitement and energy, it was impossible to absorb it all at once; you could only step in and let the atmosphere sweep you away.

“I love coming here,” Michelle said. Looking around, she grinned. “I wish I could live at a carnival.”

“I hear the freak show needs new help,” Jason said. “You might want to sign up.”

She pinched him in the ribs.

“Hey, I thought you said I was beautiful.”

Grimacing, rubbing his side, Jason said, “I thought
you
said I was being too nice.”

“I was kidding, Jason. I love compliments. Who doesn’t?”

“Thanks for telling me.”

“I love taffy apples, too.”

“That’s nice.”

“It’d be nicer if you bought one for me.”

“Will you give me a kiss if I do?”

“Maybe. A quick peck on the cheek.”

“I was hoping for a French kiss.”

“Keep hoping, baby. It ain’t happening here.”

He sighed. “I can dream, I guess.”

At a taffy-apple stand, he bought apples for both of them.

They took big, sloppy bites of the treats as they walked down the crowded midway, surveying the amusements, trying to decide which ride to try first.

“There, let’s get on that.” She pointed.

She was pointing at the Ferris wheel. It
was the biggest one he had ever seen, like a wheel from a chariot a mythical god might use to traverse the heavens. As if burning slowly from within, the metal spokes and rims gleamed, though the burning phenomenon was created by nothing more remarkable than reflections of the sunlight. Each gently swinging gondola looked occupied, and a long line curved to the booth at which the tickets were taken.

“The line’s long,” he said.

“All of the lines are long. We have to start somewhere. That seems like a good place.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s romantic,” she said. “Think about it. You’re high in the air; there’s a cool wind; the sun’s warm on your skin; you can see the country for miles around ...”

“And you can feel your stomach about to turn inside out and make you throw up on your girlfriend,” he said.

She wrinkled her nose. “Okay, that’s nasty.”

“Sorry, but it might happen.”

“Are you scared?”

“What? I’m not scared.” He knew what
real
fear was, and getting on a Ferris wheel didn’t come close to what he’d been through lately. But he’d play along with her.

“Prove it,” she said.

“All right, I will.” He took her hand and led her toward the ride. They got in line. “What a typical guy.” She smiled. “You can’t admit that you’re scared of anything.”

“I wanted to try the Ferris wheel anyway.”

“Sure, Jason.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. It’s our secret.”

“Thanks. I was worried about that.”

They waited in line. Everything was going perfectly, more perfectly than he could have anticipated. There was nothing to worry about. Everything would be fine.

Thomas was seated at the desk in his office, working on an inventory report, when Linda knocked on the door.

Seeing her face at the square window in the door broke his concentration as effectively as a rock shattering glass. He’d plunged so deeply into work that he had forgotten the problems that plagued his personal life. The sight of Linda’s face brought everything back up, like bile.

Why was she visiting him here? What did she want? Whatever it was, couldn’t it wait until he got home?

She knocked again.

“Thomas, it’s me,” she said. “Will you open the door, please?”

Reluctantly he closed the file on his desk. He would see why she had come, then get her out of here. With only a few hours remaining until he went home for the day, he wanted to savor all the time he had left in his comfortable, secluded world of work.

He opened the door.

“What a surprise,” he said. “You’re visiting me at work. Next thing, you’ll be wanting a job here.”

“I need to show you something. I couldn’t wait until this evening.”

“What is it?”

“You’ll see. Come on.” Beckoning him, she turned and walked down the short hallway, into the employees’ break room.

The area was furnished with a long pine table, several padded chairs, and a shelf stocked with magazines such as
Ebony, Jet, Essence,
and
Black Enterprise.
A built-in media center housed a stereo, VCR, twenty-seven-inch television, and several videotapes, most of which featured restaurant-training seminars.

The room was empty.

“If you interrupted your writing to show me this,” he said, “it must be something important.”

“Oh, it is. I promise.” She removed a videotape from her purse, switched on the VCR and TV, and inserted the cassette. He frowned. What was she up to?

“You might want to sit down.” She smiled. “This is gonna knock you out.”

“Okay.” Still frowning, he pulled out a chair and sat.

She pressed PLAY and took the seat beside him.

Snow filled the screen. Then the tube cleared, and the content of the recording appeared.

His eyes widened.

On the screen, he and a black woman—it had to be Rose—were in a bed. The woman sat astride him, her slim, naked back facing the camera, but his face was clearly revealed. Eyes squeezed shut in rapture, his lips moved soundlessly, hands sliding over her legs. Letting her ride him like a cowboy, enjoying every second of it ...

Shit. Oh, shit!

He shut off the TV.

Slowly Linda stood. She was not smiling anymore.

“Baby, I can explain,” he said.

“Isn’t that what husbands always say when they fuck up? ‘Baby, I can explain’? You can do better than that.”

He groped for words. “It’s over with me and that girl. It was never anything to begin with—just sex.”

‘Just sex?”

“There were no real feelings between us—nothing like that. Linda, I swear, she was only an escape from the pressure—the constant pressure, a way out of the stress I get from this goddamned job and my crazy daddy-and it was wrong, all wrong, and you have every right to be pissed, all the right in the world to be absolutely furious. But I’ll never, ever cheat on you again, I promise.”

She stared at him.

He lowered his eyes, gazed at the floor.

“That’s all you can do?” she said. “Stare at the floor like a total sucker? You can’t even look me in the eyes. Some kind of man you are.”