A Little Amusement

Chapter 1
At What Expense?

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Chapter Description: Sara has a secret she's reluctant to share--until she decides it's the only way to appease her spendthrift friend.

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By Huggies20

Sara accepted the $5 bill from the kid in the booth. “Kid,” of course, was only her opinion, based on his apparent reluctance to spend his minimum-wage salary on Clearasil. Based on his drooping head and watery eyes, he most likely had spent it on beer. Cheap beer. And lots of it. Only a few hours earlier.

The bill was all that was left of her twenty, but it was necessary to make the gate rise. An ocean of cars nestled in perfect patterns dictated by little white lines, bleached by a season of sun, sprawled out before her little red Jetta, which was vibrating with the vocals from Daughtry and inching along the precisely engineered asphalt paths in search of a break in the colorful patchwork of Exxon-filled steel.

“Just go to the back,” Sara’s passenger said. “That’s where we’re gonna end up anyway.”

“Wow, I forgot I had a Garmon in the car with me,” Sara smirked. “Turn left in fifty feet. Turn right on Main Street. Park in the back ?cause that’s where we’re gonna end up anyway.”

“Shut up,” the passenger laughed.

“Fine, we’ll do it your way.”

The Jetta picked up speed as it cruised to a row of empty white lines. The roller coasters looked slightly smaller now, but still not too far away. Just like hotels on the Vegas Strip, they were so massive, it was difficult to judge their distance. Sara dropped her keys in her pink Vera Bradley purse, rummaged for a second and pulled out her cell phone.

“What are you doing?” the passenger said, placing her own purse over her shoulder.

“Taking a picture of the sign so we don’t forget what section we’re in.”

“We’re all the way in the back. How are we gonna forget?”

“Isn’t that what you said when we went to the stadium last year?”

“Yeah. And we wouldn’t have forgotten if we weren’t both drunk.”

“You were drunk. I just don’t remember signs. That’s why I was driving and you weren’t.”

“Yeah, well if you’re so good at driving, why don’t we get back in and you can drive me to the front gate and then come back and park? You have your picture, so you can remember what section to come back to!”

“Hey, it was your idea to park all the way back here, Lindsay. Now you’re gonna have to walk!”

“Aww, but I don’t wanna,” Lindsay mock whined.

“Would you like me to carry you instead?”

“Yes, yes I would. Lindsay wants upsies!”

“You’re a mess!”

The Jetta chirped as they began their trek. Having to dodge only the occasional car whose driver apparently had the same park-in-the-back idea she did, Lindsay turned her attention to the brochure the parking attendant had thrust through the window with Sara’s change.

“Oh my God! It’s $40 to get in!”

“Yeah?” Sara said.

“I’m not paying $40 to spend four hours walking through some haunted mazes at an amusement park!”

“Linds, this whole thing was your idea. You know what these places cost.”

“Well there are too many people here.”

“It’s Halloween! You didn’t think Wonderland Haunt Fest would be crowded on Halloween?”

“I thought people would be trick-or-treating. Let’s just go.”

“Lindsay, we drove three hours to come to this. I’m not going to just go.”

“Well I’m not paying $40 to be crammed in there with, like, a billion other people.”

“Are you going to complain about everything for the rest of the night?”

“Maybe.”

Sara hesitated.

“What?” Lindsay said.

“OK, look. I can get you in for free. But you have to trust me. And you can’t say anything.”

“You mean we’re gonna sneak in? Yeah, right. You’re soooo too goody-two-shoes for that.”

“No.”

“So you know someone who works here or something? Because if you can get us a free pass and you were going to make me pay $40 to get in here, I’m so not speaking to you for the rest of the night.”

“No. We need to go back to the car.”

“What? No, we’re over halfway there. I’m not wasting like another 20 minutes there and back.”

“If you want to get in for free, we need to go back to the car.”

“Let’s just go into the park.”

“That’s what I wanted to do in the first place!”

They walked about 10 more feet when Lindsay stopped. “OK, fine, let’s go back to the car.” She rolled her eyes. “You do remember where you parked... right? Or do we have to look at the picture?”

* * *

Lindsay heard the Jetta’s doors unlock as they approached it. “So we’re getting in?”

“No, we walked all the way back to my car because I wanted to play tag and the Jetta is base. Of course we’re getting in.”

“But I mean you didn’t just have to walk back here and get a coupon or something?”

“No coupons. Get in.”

“Where are we going?”

“Wal-Mart.”

“What? Do they have buy-one-get-one-free coupons or something?”

“No coupons.” Sara picked up the Wonderland brochure Lindsay had tossed between the seats and dropped it in her purse.

“Then why are we leaving the park go to Wal-Mart?”

“Just trust me, OK, Linds. Either that or just pay the $40.”

“What’s your plan?”

“I can’t tell you. I need to show you.”

“How do you even know where Wal-Mart is around here?”

“I saw one when we got off the exit.”

“I’m surprised you remember it. You didn’t take a picture.”

* * *

Lindsay slammed the door a little harder than usual. “So we’re at Wal-Mart. Show me your plan.”

“I will. I just have to find something.”

“Are we here to buy a gun? Are you going to hold up the ticket booth and force them to let us in like in that movie?”

“What movie?”

“The one with the moose. And the dog peed on the sandwiches.”

“National Lampoon’s Vacation?”

“Yeah.”

“We won’t be punching any moose tonight. Or peeing on any sandwiches, I hope.”

“So you ARE going to buy a gun?”

“I’m NOT going to buy a gun! Besides, there’s a three-day waiting period. Now just be quiet so I can concentrate on finding what I’m looking for.”

“Well maybe if I knew what you were looking for, I could help.”

“Too late. I found it.”

Sara knelt beside a wilted flower that had grown from a crack in the asphalt. “Watch.” She closed her eyes and touched it.

Nothing happened for a few seconds. Then something did, almost imperceptibly. The limp stem began to move. A few seconds later, it stood, and then it bloomed. First a white powderpuff and then a set of tiny yellow petals. A mid-summer dandelion on the cusp of November. A soft, chilly breeze caused Sara’s curly brown hair to sway.

Lindsay stared. “What just happened? Did you do that?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“I’m... kind of a witch. Or something.”

“Did you say ?witch’ or ?bitch?’”

“Shut up! I’m serious.”

“You’re seriously a witch? Like a house-landed-on-me witch?”

“I don’t know if I’m really a witch. But remember when I had to do that genealogy project for that sosh class?”

“The one with the professor that had spray-on hair?”

“Yeah. Anyway, I found out that my great, great, great, great...well, a lot of greats...grandmother was pressed to death in Salem for being a witch.”

“Didn’t they burn all the witches?”

“Not really. But that’s not the point. The point is, I did a lot more research after that class was over.”

“Because genealogy is so your thing?”

“Not on genealogy; on witchcraft. Black magic. That sort of thing. And I kind of started... practicing.”

“As in you’re gonna turn me into a toad or like in practicing your tuba for the marching band.”

“The tuba one.”

“So now you can bring things back from the dead?”

“No, the flower wasn’t dead. It was just old.”

“It was dead. I saw it.”

“No, it was old. I made it five months younger.”

“Sara, how did you set this up?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, I don’t see any strings or mirrors or anything. But it’s a really cool trick.”

“It’s not a trick.”

“So you’re saying it’s a treat?”

“Shut up. Let’s just go inside.”

“You’re going to leave this poor flower out here like this in the cold?”

“What would you suggest I do?”

“Pick it and take it back to the magic shop.”

“I’m not going to pick it. It’ll die if I do that.”

“Then I will.”

“Lindsay, come on. Let’s just go in.”

“I want that magic flower.”

“Fine, hang on.” Sara touched the flower. In a few moments, it appeared dead again.

“What did you do?”

“I re-aged it. Do you still want it?”

“Eww, no! Why would I want a dead flower?”

“OK, can we go inside now?”

* * *

“What are we doing here?” Lindsay looked at the racks of tiny clothes. Did girls this age really know who Hannah Montana was?

“Finding you an outfit.”

“Are you smoking crack again, Sara? These clothes look more like they’d fit you than me.”

“Oh, you never get tired of the short jokes, do you? I’m, what, five inches shorter than you?”

“Six. But who’s counting?”

“Just pick something.”

“Pick something for what?”

“Lindsay, do I really have to spell this out for you?”

“Spell what out?”

Sara sighed and pulled the Wonderland brochure from her purse. She held it out for Lindsay, pointed to the text under the rows of calendars with multi-colored tiles that, when decoded, served as a guide for the park’s operating hours. “What does that say?”

“Tickets for Haunt Fest are $40. We’ve established that.”

“Under that.”

“Kids tickets are $25. Such a rip-off.”

“Under that.”

“Kids under 5 get in free.”

“So pick something to wear.”

“For what?”

Sara rolled her eyes. “Lindsay, how old are you?”

“Twenty-two.”

“Remember the flower?”

“Vaguely. Maybe I would if I had taken a picture of it.”

“Would you shut up about the picture! God!”

“Fine, don’t have a hissy.”

“So what do you want to wear?”

“Wear for what?”

“Dammit Lindsay, what do you want to wear when I turn you into a toddler so you can get into the park for free?”

“What? Oh no, no, no! Even if you really are some kind of witch...and I still don’t believe you...I’d like my biological clock to stay right where it is, thank you.”

“Then we’re wasting our time.”

“I agree. Let’s just go home.”

“We’re not going home. We’re going back to Wonderland.”

“What’s the big deal about Wonderland? It’s too expensive. It’s just a waste of money.”

“Well I’m driving, and I’m going to Wonderland. You can do whatever you want.”

“Fine, I’ll hitchhike home. And when I get raped and killed by some random scary guy in a hockey mask, you’ll be sorry.”

“Enough!” Sara grabbed her friend’s hand. “OK, remember how I touched that flower? All I have to do is touch any living thing and concentrate, and I can add time or take it away. Now pick out an outfit so we can go, or I’m going to make you little enough to try it on right here in the store.”

“Get off me!” Lindsay tried to pull her hand away, but Sara held firm. And suddenly, Lindsay felt her jeans digging into her stomach.

“Are you making me fat!”

“Remember when you went on that diet so you’d look good for Cancun? That was about seven months ago, right?”

“Change me back!”

“Pick out an outfit!”

“I don’t care what outfit. Change me back and you pick one.”

Seconds later, Lindsay’s jeans fit again. “I don’t understand how this is going to save any money anyway. It’s gonna cost $30 to buy this stuff.”

“And then when we leave the tags on and return it at the Wal-Mart at home, we get $30 back.”

“Leave the tags on? How come?”

“Look, you’re going to be wearing this stuff for, what, fifteen minutes? As long as it takes us to walk from the car to the ticket booth? Then when we get inside, we’ll go to the bathroom, you’ll take the clothes off, we’ll stick them in a locker or something, and then I’ll change you back.”

“You’re determined to do this, aren’t you?”

“I’m determined to go to Wonderland, and apparently that’s not going to happen if you actually have to pay for anything.”

“Fine, let’s just get this stuff and go.”

Sara grabbed a small pair of jeans and a High School Musical T-shirt before walking to the shoe aisle and quickly finding a pair of small pink tennis shoes before heading to the check-out line.

“How do you even know this stuff is gonna fit?” Lindsay said.

“It’s fifteen minutes. Does it really matter how well it fits?”

“Wait, what about underwear?”.

“We can’t return an open package of underwear,” Sara said. “Besides, you went through that whole ?no underwear’ phase last year. You can’t go fifteen minutes tonight without panties?”

“Fine.” Lindsay picked up a Snickers bar from the box beside the conveyor belt. “Can you buy me this?”

“What?”

“I’m just practicing,” Lindsay laughed

 

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