Carousel: Redux
This is my last trip on the merry-go-round. They promised, damn it, and this
time they had better mean it. Not that I can do anything about it if they welch
again, but if I have to do this one more time, I'll skip the middle step and go
straight to Hell. With any luck, I'll take some of them with me. I don't say
that out loud, since the bastards have no sense of humor.
It's not like I've led a bad life, just that I haven't lived one quite good
enough. I've been a fish, a dog, and one time I was even a dragon. I'd have
stuck with that if I'd had a choice, but ever since they sucked me up, they've
called the shots. I bought my ticket and I have to ride, but enough is enough.
I get to be a man this trip, my final exam before I go before the board. They
say if I get this right, I'm in like Flynn. My record's been pretty good
lately, and they're even willing to forget that minor trouble in the garden I
caused some time back. They still blame me for that, like I was the one who put
the only apple in a million miles within an arm's length of the only ones who
could reach it. I told her not to, but did she listen?
About as well as they have ever since. I suppose THAT'S my fault, too.
Anyway, this time is for all the marbles. All I have to do is go into this
neighborhood and stop some whackjob from giving a .41 caliber injection to
somebody who's supposed to be important. They didn't give me many details, but
I've seen the guy, so this should be an easy gig. I stop him, they stop my
ride. Doesn't get any easier than that.
The only problem was the timing. They dropped me off at 9:45, giving me less
than half an hour. No time to scour the streets trying to catch him before he
showed, but that was all right. I'm used to working on a deadline.
I went inside and let my eyes adjust to the gloom. People were milling about,
wearing formal gowns and tailored black suits. The top hats were a little much,
but they did lend an elegance that you just don't see anymore. I'd have to
score one for myself when this was finally over.
Small gaslights were guttering here and there, throwing wierd shadows around
like a flock of ravens were flying just overhead. Just past the door, to my
right was where it would all go down. I ran my hand along the gleaming raised
platform that rose to just over my head. Turning the corner at the far end, I
went through the small back door and looked around. A dank, narrow, smelly
alley dead-ending on my left and circling back to the main street on my right.
Ducking back inside, I retraced my steps, hiding in the shadows in the back of
the room. No way he gets in without my seeing him.
Unless he was already here.
The curtain before me rose as bright lights came up. Closing my left eye to
preserve my night vision, I caught movement in my right. Looking up, I saw a
man climbing from a higher section, jerking unsteadily as if on a ship during a
storm. As Asa and Flo went at it up front, I ran to the wall and scaled its
irregularities until I reached a balcony. Swinging my leg over, I was greeted
with astonished gasps and wide eyes, several men in uniform standing to bar my
path. Out of time, I climbed onto the ledge and jumped as high and as far as I
could.
I had him dead to rights. I was going to take him shoulder high and drive him
backwards away from his target. No way I could miss. Easy street, here I come.
Then the bastard tripped. He fell to one knee, grabbing the nearest seat to
keep from sprawling forward, and I sailed over his head to land in an
unceremonious heap in the carpeted aisle. Sneezing and wheezing at the cloud of
dust, I scrambled up and whirled in time to watch my failure.
He extended his arm and fired one shot, point blank into the back of another
man's head. Several quick steps and he leapt down from the box, landing
awkwardly in a tumble. Regaining his feet, he limped to the back door and
disappeared into the night as a packed house sat stunned.
Then the scene unfroze into chaos. Several pairs of rough hands clamped onto
me, but I didn't even notice, my eyes still fixed on that damn back door. Once
again I was screwed through no fault of my own, and I knew what my excuses
would get me. I was dragged up the aisle amid shrieks, the cries of "The
President's been shot!" and entreaties for a doctor. None of it mattered in the
least to me. I'd be having my own troubles soon.
They hung me that night, as a conspirator to assassination, never bothering
with the formalities of learning my name. The rope snapped tight around my
throat, and even as I jerked and thrashed, I cursed their clumsiness. Since my
neck didn't break, it would be a long several minutes before it all went black.
When I awoke, I felt sluggish, my thoughts far slower than I was accustomed to.
Maybe they'd drugged me, or taken their boots to my head while I lay
unconscious. As I struggled to rise, I heard footsteps beside me, then the
rattle and clank of keys in a lock. Soft leather shoes scraped the cold hard
floor as they stopped beside my head. They must have been running as fast as
they moved. The voice from above talked too fast to follow its words, but I
caught the general idea. Eventually.
"You've failed us again, as we knew that you would, but we've been lenient, and
will keep our word. Because of your efforts, we are giving you your wish.
Because of your results, we are giving you your due. Henceforth your life will
proceed at a pace more in accordance with your abilities. Fare thee well, and
know that this parting will be our last."
Sons of bitches have a sense of humor after all. Well, I'd asked for a simpler,
more sedate life, and to be fair, they did fill the bill.
I wonder how long it would take to cross this field moving at a snail's pace.