NaNoWriMo Day 3 excerpt: Freakshow! (OMG, is that some actual heterosexuality in this one?)
Posted by
Qale (aka Qale)
Nov 3 '08, 18:23
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It seems to take me hours to haul out all of our large plastic cubes, fire batons, flaming hula-hoops, and such. I have it strewn all next to the tractor trailer we call our home. Even though it'll be a few hours before Haddy and I begin our stretch, work out, and practice, I can't help but grab up a trio of bowling pins and start juggling them. Their slightly smudged creamy white surfaces smooth as silk as I sap them from hand to hand before giving them a jerking flip up into the air.
Three is simple as pie. Four. Five. Even the standard six pin technique is easy peasy for my brother and I on a majority of evenings. We're known to take it up a notch with as many as eight. And of course we fling around flaming objects as well. But I like just a simple toss of three for myself when I get up in the morning.
Or nearly noon as it had become.
I suddenly dash out from where my stance had drawn a few curious onlookers from the drive through of the Taco Bell across the parking lot, letting the three bowling pins drop where they will. Winding my way through the increasingly busy activity of people, there's a very important destination in mind. And I'm late.
"You're too late," Erin chirps, head ducking back underneath the counter where she'd already started putting out cases of her candies. Salt-water taffy sold so readily here. Next the chocolate and fudge based products. Then, surprisingly enough, the carnival classics: caramel covered apples, with or without peanuts, and cotton candy.
"I'm never too late. Maybe kind of late, or possibly sort of late, but never too late," I grin broadly putting my hands appropriately enough on my hips.
Raising up fully, Erin shoves the last of the brightly colored cardboard cases onto the rack and mimics my stance. Only whereas I'm lean yet muscled in all the right places, she's lean and curved in all the right places. I find my eyes drifting, looking at her chest, wishing to God she'd give me a chance to touch those�
"No. You're really too late, Devyn Robertson," suddenly her typically angelic, if sassy, tone turned downright shrill. Plus, she used my whole name.
My hands drop from my hips, and I edge closer to the swinging wooden door on her counter where I might gain entrance to her tent. But damn she was reading me like a book. Sliding over just as I did, I thought for sure she was going to push me right over backwards.
I fall back, raising my hands defensively. "Fine, fine! I'm too late. I can be a regular paying customer. What do we charge the little brats anyway?"
Erin grinned, showing off a set of immaculate white teeth. It was like she knew directly how to wound me and yet lure me in at the same time. This candy girl didn't even sample her own products. And she refused to let this traveling carnival life make her give up one bit of what she thought was important. Even dental care.
I'd have swooned if I knew how, but instead I step up closer to the nineteen year old young woman who, as friendly as she was, easily swatted down each and every one of my advances over the last several months. Surprisingly, she reached up and brushed fingers along my brow, delicate touches that felt so wonderful and serenely different than any of the local boys I find, fuck, and leave.
She looked in my eyes directly, and I have to look away. I think immediately of Haddy and the other night and how only we look at each other with such a locking gaze during the routienes.
Even though I notice out of the corner of my eye, she has in the hand hiding behind her back a caramel apple without nuts on a stick, the prize besides glimpsing this beauty I came for, I suddenly dart away. Nearly tripping on one of the candy tent's guide wires along the way, I bolt. I feel the suddenly rush of flight, the need to get away from what just hit me. And even when the rush turns into pain from a stitch in my side, I keep running.
Finally, on the edge of the footprint of our circus in this otherwise deserted strip mall, I slow my steps. My chest heaving with panting only reminds me further of Haddy and the long trip up here. I clutch my torso, back up against a light pole, and close my eyes.
"I can't do this for you," I told him. And yet I continued to hold him from behind while he did it himself. Why didn't I pull away? More importantly why was he asking such a thing from me?
I don't know.
And I don't think I want to ask.
Erin probably didn't mean a thing just now, I figure. She was just playing games with my apple and emotions knowing full well she could get away with just about anything with me. How I'd like to cover her breasts in the caramel she coats the apples.
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