Page 86 of Cursed
Chapter 28
Phoebe
From twenty feet away, the pre-recorded music floated to my ears as it did in my dreams. I suppressed a shiver, trying to decide if it was from excitement or terror.
Clenching Cain’s fingers with mine, I slowed my pace.
The electronic melody rang out across the open picnic area, a bright song beckoning children to flock to the painted horses and chariots riding in an endless circle going everywhere and nowhere.
“Wow.” I stopped with Cain standing at my side, his presence reminding me this time wasn’t like ten years ago. “It’s barely changed.”
At the outer top of the carousel, geometric-shaped mirrors angled downward, spaced every foot or so to reflect sunlight. A few kids and parents patiently waited their turn for the next ride.
The painted horses, frozen in various stages of running, prancing, and rearing, seemed duller than I remembered. Their bodies were cracked in some places and their wild eyes rolled in their sockets.
“Is this the something immature part you spoke of?” Cain gave the carousel an unreadable glance.
I suppressed a shiver. “Y-yeah. But it feels off.” I no longer felt the sense of wonder I had as a little girl.
A family of four sat at a splintery picnic table and ate sandwiches. The children, a boy and girl sitting across from each other, kept kicking each other’s shins.
“Mommy, Jason won’t stop putting his feet on me,” the little girl, about six or seven, whined.
Mom, who sat next to the girl, leaned across the table and opened her mouth, but dad interjected.
“If you two don’t behave, we will pack it up right now and go straight home.” There was an edge to his voice I’d heard before in my own father when I’d been little, but it had never been directed at me. “Do you understand?”
Both children nodded and turned their attention to each other. The girl glared, and the boy stuck out his tongue.
The mother closed her eyes and shook her head, as if saying a silent prayer, but my attention went back to what the man said and how he’d said it.
Something about his tone tickled a dark place in my head, as if I could almost hear my father uttering something similar. “Do you understand?”Except he hadn’t been speaking with me, he’d been talking to the silhouette while we’d been on the carousel.The dark man, my ten-year-old self whispered.The bad man.
“If that’s what having kids is all about, I’m thankful I’ve been spared the torture all these years.” Cain snickered. “Those parents look like they’re at the end of their rope.”
The carousel came to a stop, and its ride-goers moved toward the exit.
“Cain.” I clutched his forearm. “I think something bad happened here the day my dad disappeared.”
I wanted to turn around and run away. Regretting my decision to retrace my past, I made a half-twist as if to push my way through the throng of people behind me waiting in line.
“Phoebe,” Cain breathed into my ear, embracing me, and holding me in place. “Running away won’t solve the mystery. Don’t you want to find out what happened? It might help in the search for your dad. And I can at least figure out if someone like me tampered with your memories.”
His hand stroked my hair, soothing the inner uneasiness.
