"Here's how it works," he said, holding up the second ticket. "I put this in, squeeze the bag shut, and shake it around, okay?" We nodded. "You stand side by side and I'll throw the pieces of paper over your heads. Whoever gets the ticket wins. Me and the winner will give the other two their money back when we can afford it. Is that fair enough, or does somebody have a better idea?"
"Sounds good to me," I said.
"I don't know," Alan grumbled. "I'm the youngest. I can't jump as high as..."
"Quit yapping," Tommy said. "I'm the smallest, and I don't mind. Besides, the ticket might come out on the bottom of the pile, float down low, and be in just the right place for the shortest person.
"All right," Alan said. "But no shoving."
"Agreed," I said. "No rough stuff."
"Agreed." Tommy nodded.
Steve squeezed the bag and gave it a good long shake. "Get ready," he told us.
We stood back from Steve and lined up in a row. Tommy and Alan were side by side, but I kept out of the way so I'd have room to swing both arms.
"Okay," Steve said. "I'll throw everything in the air on the count of three. All set?" We nodded. "One," Steve said, and I saw Alan wiping sweat from around his eyes. "Two," Steve said, and Tommy's fingers twitched. "Three!" Steve yelled, and he jerked open the bag and tossed the paper high up into the air.
A breeze came along and blew the pieces of paper straight at us. Tommy and Alan started yelling and grabbing wildly. It was impossible to see the ticket in among the scraps of paper.
I was about to start grabbing, when all of a sudden I got an urge to do something strange. It sounds crazy, but I've always believed in following an urge or a hunch.
So what I did was, I shut my eyes, stuck out my hands like a blind man, and waited for something magical to happen.
As I'm sure you know, usually when you try something you've seen in a movie, it doesn't work. Like if you try doing a wheelie with your bike, or making your skateboard jump up in the air. But every once in a while, when you least expect it, something clicks.
For a second I felt paper blowing by my hands. I was going to grab at it but something told me it wasn't time. Then, a second later, a voice inside me yelled, "NOW!"
I closed my hands really fast.
The wind died down and the pieces of paper drifted to the ground. I opened my eyes and saw Alan and Tommy down on their knees, searching for the ticket.
"It's not here!" Tommy said.
"I can't find it anywhere!" Alan shouted.
They stopped searching and looked up at me. I hadn't moved. I was standing stills my hands closed tight.
"What's in your hands, Darren?" Steve asked softly.
I stared at him, unable to answer. It was like I was in a dream, where I couldn't move or speak.
"He doesn't have it," Tommy said. "He can't have. He had his eyes shut."
"Maybe so," Steve said, "but there's something in those fists of his."
"Open them," Alan said, giving me a shove. "Let's see what you're hiding."
I looked at Alan, then Tommy, then Steve. And then, very slowly, I opened my right fist.
There was nothing there.
My heart and stomach dropped. Alan smiled and Tommy started looking down at the ground again, trying to find the missing ticket.
"What about the other hand?" Steve asked.
I gazed down at my left fist. I'd almost forgotten about that one! Slowly, even slower than the first time, I opened it.
There was a piece of green paper smack-dab in the middle of my hand, but it was lying facedown, and since there was nothing on its back, I had to turn it over, just to be sure. And there it was, in red and blue letters, the magical name:
CIRQUE DU FREAK.
I had it. The ticket was mine. I was going to the freak show with Steve. "YEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!" I screamed, and punched the air with my fist. I'd won!
Chapter SEVEN
THE TICKETS WERE FOR the Saturday show, which was just as well, since it gave me a chance to talk to my parents and ask if I could stay over at Steve's Saturday night.
I didn't tell them about the freak show, because I knew they would say no if they knew about it. I felt bad about not telling the whole truth, but at the same time, I hadn't really told a lie: all I'd done was keep my mouth shut.
Saturday couldn't go quickly enough for me. I tried keeping busy, because that's how you make time pass without noticing, but I kept thinking about the Cirque Du Freak and wishing it was time to go. I was pretty grumpy, which was odd for me on a Saturday, and Mom was glad to see me go when it was time to leave for Steve's.
Annie knew I was going to the freak show and asked me to bring her back something, a photo if possible, but I told her cameras weren't allowed (it said so on the ticket) and I didn't have enough money for a T-shirt. I told her I'd buy her a pin if they had them, or a poster, but she'd have to keep it hidden and not tell Mom and Dad where she got it if they found it.
Dad dropped me off at Steve's at six o'clock. He asked what time I wanted to be picked up in the morning. I told him noon if that was okay.
"Don't watch horror movies, okay?" he said before he left. "I don't want you coming home with nightmares."
"Oh, Dad!" I groaned. "Everyone in my class watches horror movies."
"Listen," he said, "I don't mind an old black-and-white film, or one of the less scary Dracula movies, but none of these nasty new ones, okay?"
"Okay," I promised.
"Good man," he said, and drove off.
I hurried up to the house and rang the doorbell four times, which was my secret signal to Steve. He must have been standing just inside, because he opened the door right away and dragged me in.
"About time," he growled, then pointed to the stairs. "See that hill?" he asked, speaking like a soldier in a war film.
"Yes, sir," I said, clicking my heels together.
"We have to take it by dawn."
"Are we using rifles or machine guns, sir?" I asked.
"Are you crazy?" he barked. "We'd never be able to carry a machine gun through all that mud." He nodded at the carpet.
"Rifles it is, sir," I agreed.