Jim slipped his hand through the leather mouth and hefted forth a metal shaft clustered with chimeras, Chinese dragons all fang, eyeball and moss-green armor, all cross and crescent; every symbol around the world that made men safe, or seemed to, clung here, greaving the boys' hands with odd weight and meaning.
"Storm never came. But he went."
"Where? And why did he leave his bag?"
They both looked to the carnival where dusk colored the canvas billows. Shadows ran coolly out to engulf them. People in cars honked home in tired commotions. Boys on skeleton bikes whistled dogs after. Soon night would own the midway, while shadows rode the ferns wheel up to cloud the stars.
"People," said Jim, "don't leave their whole life lying around. This is everything that old man owned. Something important--" Jim breathed soft fire--"made him forget. So he just walked off and left this here."
"What? What's so important you forget everything?"
"Why--" Jim examined his friend, curiously, twilight in his face--"no one can tell you. You find out yourself. Mysteries and mysteries. Storm salesman. Storm salesman's bag. If we don't look now, we might never know."
"Jim, in ten minutes--"
"Sure! Midway'll be dark. Everyone home for dinner. Just us alone. But won't it feel great? Just us! And here we go, back in!"
Passing the Mirror Maze, they saw two armies--a billion Jims, a billion Wills--collide, melt, vanish. And like those armies, so vanished the real army of people.
The boys stood alone among the encampments of dusk thinking of all the boys in town sitting down to warm food in bright rooms.
Chapter 18
THE RED-LETTERED sign said: OUT OF ORDER! KEEP OFF!
"Sign's been up all day. I don't believe signs," said Jim.
They peered in at the merry-go-round which lay under a dry rattle and roar of wind-tumbled oak trees. Its horses, goats, antelopes, zebras, speared through their spines with brass javelins, hung contorted as in a death rictus, asking mercy with their fright-colored eyes, seeking revenge with their panic-colored teeth.
"Don't look broke to me."
Jim ambled across the clanking chain, leaped to a turntable surface vast as the moon, among the frantic but forever spelled beasts.
"Jim!"
"Will, this is the only ride we haven't looked at. So ..."
Jim swayed. The lunatic carousel world stirred atilt with his lean bulk. He strolled through brass forests amidst animal rousts. He swung astride a plum-dusk stallion.
"Ho, boy, git!"
A man rose from machinery darkness.
"Jim!"
Reaching out from the shadows among the calliope tubes and moon-skinned drums the man hoisted Jim yelling out on the air.
"Help, Will, help!"
Will leaped through the animals.
The man smiled easily, welcomed him handily, swung him high beside Jim. They stared down at bright flame-red hair, bright flame-blue eyes, and rippling biceps.
"Out of order," said the man. "Can't you read?"
"Put them down," said a gentle voice.
Hung high, Jim and Will glanced over at a second man standing tall beyond the chains.