Freeks(37)

So, with my smile still in place, I said, “Let’s do it.”

“Excellent.” Gabe held out his hand to me, so I let him take mine in his. His skin felt hot—almost uncomfortably so—but I didn’t see any appearance of being overheated. No sweat, no flushed skin. Just an easy smile and a glint in his eyes.

As we walked toward the museum, he said, “To paraphrase the great Ray Parker Jr., I ain’t afraid of no curiosities or oddities.”





19. curiosities

Hutch ran the museum, but he didn’t even notice Gabe and me right away.

He was supposed to be selling passersby on the museum, calling out to them and telling them to step right up and see the horrors inside. Instead, he leaned against the black podium near the door, absently chewing on his dirty fingernails, his shaggy brown hair flopped over the neon sweatband he wore around his forehead.

When he caught sight of me, walking with my hand in Gabe’s, he straightened up and offered the best showman smile he could manage.

“Are you brave enough to face the horrors within?” Hutch asked Gabe, but his eyes flicked to me for a second. I smiled at him and hoped I didn’t look as nervous as I felt.

“Yeah, I think we can handle it.” Gabe held up two fingers, making a peace sign. “Two tickets, please.”

“Five dollars,” Hutch said, and he kept casting nervous glances my way as he and Gabe made the exchange.

“Is it really that scary in there?” Gabe asked.

“Some people have lost their minds after going through,” Hutch told him loudly, hoping to attract more customers. “You better hang on tight to your lady.”

“Will do.” Gabe laughed, but he squeezed my hand tighter.

He went first, going up the metal staircase into the trailer, and I looked back over my shoulder at Hutch. I mouthed the words “thank you” to him, for not outing me, but he just grinned and waved me off.

The museum was nothing more than a semitrailer that had been painted black and dimly lit, so everything inside would seem spookier than it was. Black curtains strung across rods provided the labyrinthian pathway and blocked off the less-exciting parts of the trailer.

A spooky record played over the speakers, covering up the low hum of the AC. It was nice during the dog days of summer, because we had to keep it air-conditioned, so I spent many a sweltering afternoon in this trailer.

The first few “exhibits” sat under glass cases on black tables. They were basic fodder you’d find at any place like this. A two-headed snake floating in formaldehyde in a jar. A skeleton pieced together from a fish and a monkey that appeared to be a mermaid. A glittering horn that allegedly belonged to a unicorn.

“I expected unicorns to be larger,” Gabe commented on the horn, which I suspected came from a goat.

“Maybe it was a baby unicorn,” I suggested.

Gabe scrunched up his face. “That’s depressing, then.”

As we rounded the curtain to the next half of the museum—the part with the live performers—Gabe put his arm loosely around my waist, so his hand rested on my hip. Even through the fabric of my skirt, the heat from his skin was palpable. In the cool air-conditioning of the trailer, I would’ve thought he’d cool down some, but it apparently hadn’t had any effect on him.

I was about to suggest he take off his jacket, but a girl farther down in the trailer screamed, and instinctively, his arm tightened around me, pulling me closer to him.

This half of the museum devolved into more of a haunted house. Performers sat in little curtained cubicles with a spotlight above them and a pane of plexiglass separating them from the audience. In front of them was a plaque that explained who they were and why they were here, but the performer remained perfectly motionless—that is, until a spectator leaned in to get a better look at the plaque.

Performers varied from day to day. Sometimes Luka would be in here, shoving stakes through his hands, and before the incident, Seth would lift heavy weights.

People like Betty the Bearded Lady and her husband, Damon the Three-Legged Man, were usually here, although Betty preferred to wave and apply makeup, while Damon tended to lurch around his space like a caged monster, terrifying the spectators.

I kept my head down in an attempt to avoid recognition, but I jumped at all the right times, relishing the way it felt when Gabe held me closer to him. I wasn’t scared and didn’t need him to protect me, but I’d take any excuse to end up in his arms.

When we neared the ending, where the bright lights from the carnival shined in through the open door, Gabe stopped suddenly. He looked around, so I did the same, but I didn’t see anyone. We were alone in the narrow walkway, and he leaned down to kiss me.

I wanted to kiss him, but someone could round the corner any minute, catching us in an embrace, and I didn’t want to risk it.

“Come on,” I said. I stepped back, holding one of his hands in mine, and I pulled back the curtain behind me, revealing crates of random junk we used to set up the museum, like tools, different props, and extra black fabric.

His lips curved into a smile, with a devilish curl in the corner—the one that warned me that I should be afraid, that he was someone I should not be inviting to take me into the dark shadows. But I didn’t care.

The fire in his skin had somehow spread to me, with a heat radiating deep inside me. Soon, I’d be gone, and I would never see him again. But now I was with him, so I needed to savor every moment and really be with him, tasting his lips and feeling his hands on my body.