Zara frowns, “Know what?”
“That we’re not from here.”
She huffs, “We haven’t even left town, Marly.”
“I know but they hate us.”
I’m not sure when it began, long before I was even born I’m sure, but the two sides of the town of West Rock have always been at war. It’s small enough to notice, but big enough that it doesn’t affect day to day life, it’s just a constant presence, especially when the two sides cross paths.
“They’re not gonna know,” Zara shrugs, “How will they know?”
My teeth capture my lip and I shrug, “I don’t know.”
“It’ll be fine,” She laughs, “Come on, let’s go.”
She climbs from the car and starts toward the entrance to the carnival, leaving me to get out and chase after her. I hear the car lock behind me and know without looking back she’s already putting the roof on, so I don’t need to worry about the security of her vehicle.
Music reaches my ears the closer we get to the entrance, the heavy bass making it feel like my bones are vibrating. There’s laughter and screaming as a fairground ride throws its riders around in a circular motion and the sickly-sweet smell of cotton candy and toffee apples permeates the air.
“It’s just not right that we don’t have this uptown,” Zara complains.
I nod in agreement, and even though I feel out of place and a little out of my comfort zone, I feel free. I’m not being watched, not being judged. No one even bats an eye at me. Everyone knows who I am only a few streets up, but not even a couple miles down the road I’m just a face in the crowd. It’s refreshing.
The nerves still eat at me though. I reach around to grab my ponytail, curling a strand around my finger before I pull it over my shoulder to rest there, the ends of the ribbon tickling against my bare shoulder. I’m glad I went for a pair of denim shorts and a cute floral cropped tee since the heat is still very much present, making the air humid and heavy. A sweat has broken out down my spine and on my brow which I wipe away with the back of my hand.
But I’m not the only one feeling the heat, girls are walking around in their bikinis and guys have their shirts off and tucked into the backs of their shorts. It’s just so normal that it feels abnormal. Or maybe I’m the abnormality here.
Maybe I’m not meant to fit in anywhere.
At the entrance we pay the fee and accept the paper wristbands that are attached to our arms and within a few seconds we’re being absorbed by the crowd. I grab hold of Zara’s hand, scared I’ll lose her if I don’t hold on and follow her as she makes her way to the food and beverage stand.
She gets us both a drink before we wander through the fairground. It’s just a large field that gets repurposed for this event that happens every year. We’ve all heard of it, but this is the first time either of us have ever been.
With the evening fully settling in, the sky has dimmed to this tranquil purple color, still cloudless but the lack of sunlightallows the carnival lights to shine bright. There’s a Ferris wheel up ahead which Zara makes a beeline for.
“We can see more from up there,” She says as we get in a long line. “Then we can decide what to do next.”
I nod in agreement and sip from my drink, almost spitting it out when the flavor hits my tongue.
“Ugh!” I force myself to swallow, “What is this?”
Zara laughs, “Beer, obviously!”
My nose scrunches up, “It’s warm.”
With a shrug she turns back to the line, falling into conversation with the two girls ahead of us while I continue to look around. It seems like half the town is here, the crowds thick and loud, kids run and play, their gappy smiles wide as they shriek with their laughter.
We finally make it to the front of the line, but it took a while and it’s almost completely dark now. I slide into the cart first, followed by Zara and then the two girls she was talking to take the seats opposite us. I let out a startled gasp when the cart moves almost immediately, moving up so the cart next to us can be loaded. It takes us five minutes to even make it halfway around the circle but we’re higher and I can see almost everything.
I’m so entranced by my surroundings, I’m not listening to their conversation, I don’t even know their names. There’s so many lights and noise, it’s a kaleidoscope of color and a mash of sound that seems to settle into my soul like a warm embrace. Nothing has order, there’s no rules to follow or appearances to keep up. It’s just what it is, every messy, chaotic second of it.
We finally reach the top and I eagerly devour the sights around me until my eyes snag on something right at the edge of the carnival.
Huge floodlights brighten what looks to be a racetrack and cars are zooming around it much faster than can even be safe. There’s a crowd down there too and a fire burning off to the side.
“What’s that?” I ask, leaning toward the railing as if I can get a closer look. It’s much too far out to make out any details but damn do I want to see more.
“That’s the Sinclair Track,” One of the girls says, “They race almost every night.”
