“That's a hayride,” he says. “They do it at night with lights and fog machines. Scare-actors.”
“I think we got our fill of it during the day,” I tell him. “But this place is pretty amazing. I never even realized it was here. All I've ever heard is that this was the fairgrounds.”
“It's been closed a long time,” the officer says. “Technically, it's still functional. Power and water would be on if they were hooked up. The rides are a bit beaten up now, but they were runnin’ when they closed up shop. It just didn't get enough attention all the way out here. Now the town doesn't like to advertise having an abandoned amusement park. Not fittin’ the image, and not worth the money to fix it up.”
“Maybe lure miscreants?" Dean asks.
Officer Murray laughs. "Exactly. So, everybody pretty much acts like it doesn't exist. Every so often, there’s talk of bringin’ it back, but nothin’ ever comes of it. A Halloween haunt a couple of years, but that's it. It just kinda sits here. It's hard to believe how alive it used to be. Now it's just a little creepy, isn't it?”
“I think it's beautiful,” Xavier says, still gazing around as if he can see the park as it was when he was a child.
“Well, that fits with the season, I guess. I'm sorry, I wish I could let you folks wander around a bit, but you're not allowed in here. You're not even supposed to be on that trail. Let's get you back to the pumpkin patch," he says.
“I'm sorry if I caused you any trouble,” I say.
“No trouble,” he shrugs. “It’s good to see you doing something other than sit in that conference room buried neck-deep in evidence.”
“That's what I've been telling her,” Sam says, wrapping his arm around my waist and cuddling me close. “A little break every now and then is good for her.”
“We’ll see,” I say.
We make our way along an access road Officer Murray shows us. It brings us out right in front of the checkout stand for the pumpkin patch. Our pumpkins are piled up on one of the wooden counters lined up in front of the gate.
“I was wondering where you got off to,” the hayride driver calls over. “I have your pumpkins right here.”
“Thank you,” I say.
Since I doubt the hotel will let me start filling up their hallway with pumpkins, we bring our haul to Xavier's house. I can absolutely see why Dean described it the way he did. It's pristinely decorated, but everywhere I look, there seems to be a knob or lever attached to one of Xavier's creations. I want to touch all of them.
But I stop myself. I have to remember I'm a guest in this ridiculousness, and it's been sitting dormant for a decade now, so the mechanics might not be as reliable as they once were. That brings my mind back to the theme park. Xavier talked about it as if he’d gone when he was an adult, but it looked as if no one had been there in far too many years before that.
We spend the rest of the afternoon carving some of the pumpkins and roasting their seeds. On the way to his house, I’d stopped at the grocery store to pick up a container of pumpkin pie spice, and I sprinkle the cut off lids of the jack-o'-lanterns.
“Why are you doing that?” Xavier asks.
“So, when you light a candle in it, it will smell like pumpkin pie,” I say.
He reaches into the bag he brought home from the store and pulls out battery-operated tea lights. I can't help but laugh. I tip back into Sam's arms and let him hold me, surrounding me in flannel and warmth. I could just stay like this. I would never have to think about anything else and be happy.
The levity doesn't last for long. I knew it couldn't. Not with the world ticking by around me.
The next day, heaviness settles into my heart, dragging it down deep into me as I listen to my father tell me everything he can about The Order of Prometheus. He shouldn't be doing this. These are secrets he's supposed to keep, traditions and rituals kept sacred for so many years.
But this is an emergency. He knows that as well as I do. So he lifts the veil. It's not everything. He can't get into all of the details or explain everything to me because his chapter is different from the one in Harlan. But the more he tells me, the heavier I feel.
I'm discovering something about my father I never knew, but I don't want to know it. It feels uncomfortable and raw, like something I shouldn't see. A part of him that was supposed to be kept back, but now he is laying bare, and in doing so, exposing so many others.
I appreciate his willingness. I can only hope it helps.
After meeting with my father, I stop by the doughnut shop and then follow my familiar path to Millie's hospital room. She smiles when she sees the box.
"At least this time you're bringing me some real food," she says.
“I figure if I'm taking advantage of the fact that they are holding you hostage and you can't get away from me, I might as well compensate with a treat. And after having experienced a diet of hospital cuisine for a couple of days, I now commiserate with you completely and feel you deserve these more than ever,” I smile.
“Did you bring jelly-filled?” she asks.
“Of course! What kind of a person do you think I am?”
She lifts one eyebrow at me. “Do you really want me to answer that?”
“Fair enough. And on that note,” I say, reaching into the box and pulling out one of the powdered sugar-covered lemon-filled donuts, “I'll just dive right in.”
“Let me
