"Not too much."
"Tell me, honey."
"Well, you know. Mom's been kind of sick. And Dad's been real busy."
His mother had had some clotting problems toward the end of the pregnancy and had been told to stay in bed. And now, of course, with the new baby—
"Jeremy, your dad had a lot to do preparing for this festival. There were last-minute important pieces of equipment that didn't arrive. Like the Flying Monkeys merry-go-round was on a truck in Omaha, and the truck broke down, and they didn't think it would get here in time. Which would have been awful. And then they had that big rain two days ago and some of the electric cables shorted out from getting soaked. I think he's going to have a lot more free time now."
I looked up from the child and realized that the formal ceremonies were beginning. Though I couldn't see from here, the schedule said the mayor would be over at the bandstand near the Emerald City castle, probably preparing to cut green tape. Festival-goers strolled toward the sound of trumpets. The Royal Army of Oz, which was composed entirely of twenty-eight officers, no privates because they had all been promoted, would parade past the bright green bandstand with its bright green bunting. The mayor would speak; the Park District Commissioner would speak. I think even the superintendent of police was going to speak. An Oz expert from the Harold Washington Library was going to speak. The ceremonies would end with a big parade.
I was planning to stay far away from the bandstand area if possible. No reflection on all the luminaries, but I've heard pretty much all the politicians' speeches I need for the rest of my life.
Apparently I wasn't the only person who felt this way. I saw three of the festival developers plus Tom Plumly hanging out at the side of the Mo popcorn stand in Quadling country as the crowds drained happily toward the bandstand. E. T. Taubman, the lighting designer I'd met during the early planning stages of the festival, who had been responsible for most of the great effects, stood chatting with Plumly, the festival's head of security, Edmond W. Pottle, a banker and a festival backer, and another man I hadn't met "personally" but knew to be Larry Mazzanovich. Larry was a contractor. He had built the Emerald City castle and a lot of the specialty items. I'd seen him around the area. I wanted to wave to Tom Plumly if he looked over our way, or go say hi and ask Jeremy to tell him with what great delight a kid responded to the fair. Plumly would like that. But Plumly's back was toward us and they were halfway hidden behind the popcorn palace and seemed very intent on their conversation.
"Yo, Cat!" Jennifer Denslow came striding up behind us. She's a tall, vibrant woman with red hair and a creamy complexion. When you're short and kind of middling in coloration, you notice these things. I liked her a lot and we'd become friends, hanging out a bit together. You know how occasionally a person seems like an old friend from the first moment of meeting. Jen was the computer systems designer for the festival. She had put together the sequences for the sound system and adapted a lot of theme-park software motherboards for the festival to use. Not only had she done it brilliantly, but she'd kept the costs down. After all, Great Adventure and Disney World and Renaissance Faire and maybe even Dollywood might be in existence for decades, or centuries, but the Chicago Oz Festival was a ten-day wonder. At best, it might become an annual event, but it would still have to pack up, fold its tents, disassemble its castle, send back its specialty items, and get out on July 15.
"Jennifer, this is Barry's son, Jeremy."
"Aha! Another
J,
" she said, holding out her hand. Jeremy shook it in a very grown-up fashion, while I said, "Another Jay?"
"Jeremy. Jennifer. The finest initial letter in the alphabet," she said to the child. "Very graceful letter to write." She made a truly graceful sweep with her hand, with curlicues as it tailed off. "The only other letter that comes close to such outstanding elegance is
S
. Have you ever thought about that, Jeremy?"
"Well, no. But I will
now
." He smiled up at her. He looked as if he was falling in love.
"See," she said, "
A
is quite clunky. Up, down across.
B
is blobby, don't you think?" She gestured.
He nodded vigorously.
"
C
is not bad, but it ends awfully soon. Less than half of a well-made
J
."
"Hey!" I said. "I'm a
C
."
"Well, it's not bad. But
J
is excellent."
Jeremy twirled around three or four times, swinging his arms, just to show her a
J
in motion.
Then Jeremy said, "Hey! There's Dad!"
Barry was a little distance away, over near the Tornado, but kids can pick their parents out at a distance, just as parents can see their child in a big crowd of children. Barry was striding across the open space where the blue Munchkinland Tornado ride terminated. Jeremy shouted "Dad!" but of course with all the noise and shouting and distant band music, Barry didn't hear us.
Just then Tom Plumly left the group and ran past us. He was heading toward Barry, and frantically calling his name, loud enough that I could hear him over the celebrations. Another Oz Festival emergency, I guessed.
Jennifer, Jeremy, and I followed Plumly. We weren't particularly worried about whatever was happening. It was just puzzling. Instead of halting and talking with Barry, Plumly caromed into him. Plumly clutched at Barry, or Barry grabbed Plumly (I couldn't quite tell which), and they struggled briefly. By then, Jennifer, Jeremy, and I were closer to them. Plumly sagged and fell limp to the ground. Barry stood there, stunned. He bent down over Plumly. Then he yelled, "Somebody get a doctor! Security! Help us out here!"
Nobody responded instantly, of course; people never react that fast. There was no security nearby. They were probably all at the ceremonies. Barry got his cell phone from his pocket and yelled into it.
"I need paramedics at the Tornado.
Right away!
I have a seriously injured man here!"
Jennifer and I hurried up and leaned over Plumly to try to help him. I didn't stop to think that Jeremy might be seeing something unsuitable for a child, somebody very sick.
But it was worse than a sick man. A huge patch of blood stained the front of Tom Plumly's shirt, and a pool of blood was spreading next to him. As I reached out to pull Jeremy away, I saw a short knife on the ground near the security chief's hand, an ordinary jackknife with a handle of about five inches and a blade the same length.
Jennifer rose from a crouch. She said, "I think he's dead." With a look of horror, she stared straight at my brother Barry.
2
PEOPLE COME AND GO SO QUICKLY AROUND HERE
Barry looked at us and I could almost read his thoughts from the expression on his face. He was appalled that we were here. He started to come toward us, but must have realized that he was the only festival official on hand and he had a responsibility. And, of course, I was available to take care of his son. He waved his hand at me. "Get Jeremy away."
I had already picked Jeremy up in my arms and was backing away. Barry shouted, "I have to get help. But, Cat, don't let Jeremy see this. Go someplace!"
I couldn't agree more.
By then two security guys had arrived near Barry. Jeremy was twisting in my arms. "Is that guy sick?" he asked.
"I'm afraid he is."
"But he looked like he was dead. I mean, he was all bloody. Wasn't he?"
"Well—" I've never been an advocate of lying to children "for their own good," and even if his parents would have handled this differently, they weren't here; I was the person on the scene. "I don't know whether he's dead, Jeremy, but you're right about the blood."
Walking as well as I could carrying a rather large child, I finally staggered us around the Emerald City castle and the bandstand to the purple Flying Monkeys merry-go-round in Gillikin country. "Jeremy, could you get on and ride without me for a couple of minutes while I wait here and see what your dad wants to do?"
"Sure."
It might seem heartless to ride a merry-go-round while somebody dies forty yards away, but this was a child, and he had never met Plumly, and in any case, I had to think. I had to think really hard.
At the moment the merry-go-round started moving again, Jennifer caught up to me.
"We'd better talk," she said.
"Right. I know."
"When Plumly ran past us, I didn't see any blood on him. Did you?"
"No."
"And then he struggled with Barry. Right?"
Sadly, I said, "Right."
"And then after that he fell down and then when we got there he was covered with blood. Right?"
"Right."
"Barry's your brother. I feel really horrible about this, Cat. But I still can't cover up—"
I was trembling now, I was so scared. I knew what she was going to say, and I knew she had to do what she was going to do.
She said, "I have to tell the police."
"I know." After a couple of seconds, I said, "I will, too. I'm sure there's an explanation. But what am I going to tell Jeremy?"
* * *
Jennifer started slowly back to where Barry and the dead Plumly were. As she left, I called after her, "If you get a chance, tell Barry that I'll stay here for a while. No, wait. You'd better
make
a chance to tell him, please. Tell him I'll hang around the merry-go-round here for a half hour or so, and if he can't get away, I'll just take Jeremy home. To my place. I need to talk to Barry, but Jeremy shouldn't be around if there's going to be, you know, unpleasantness."
She nodded soberly and walked away. Then she turned and spoke in a normal voice, just loud enough for me to hear. "I'll have to pass on to the police that you saw it, too."
"I know that." At pretty much the same moment, a police car pulled up next to one of the equipment trailers. The squad car had its lights on, and now festival-goers who were not at the opening ceremonies were crowding in to see what all the fuss was. A couple of cops on foot came in from the other side of the castle.
Many, many minutes passed. I wished I had brought my cell phone. I could have called Maud and let her know what was happening. Still, given the precarious state of her health, maybe I wouldn't have called even if I'd had the phone with me. The next time the merry-go-round stopped, I handed two tickets to the operator and got on to ride with Jeremy. We rode and stopped, at which point I had to fork over two more tickets, and then we rode around some more. Round and round and round. Like the worries in my head.
"Cat!" a voice called. Jeremy had been riding a purple-and-white flying monkey for twenty minutes, and could probably ride an hour longer. I was standing in front of him, near the monkey's nose. As the merry-go-round revolved, facing us toward the center of the fairground, I saw that the person calling me was Jennifer.
"What's happening over there?" I asked, hoping she'd put the answer in a way that didn't upset Jeremy.
To talk with me, she walked alongside the moving merry-go-round. "The police are taking statements. Barry has given them a sketchy idea of what happened, and he's waiting in the management office for them to get back to him. He says to tell you he can't leave right now."
"Did you tell the police what you saw? What we saw?"
"Yes. I had to."
The merry-go-round was still moving, but Jennifer was young and had no trouble keeping up with it.
"So should we go home? Did you ask him?"
"Yes. He says for you to take Jeremy home to their house—"
"Not yet," Jeremy said.
We had planned that I would turn Jeremy over to Barry after the ceremonies, and Barry would take him home. To his place, of course. But now I would have to, which meant a longish drive to Oak Park for me. I said, "We can always come back tomorrow, honey. There's been a really bad accident, and they'll probably close down the middle part of the festival for a while."
"Aw—"
"And we've done a lot of the rides already." The merry-go-round began to slow down.
Jennifer said, "I'd better get back."
The merry-go-round began to turn away from her.
"See you tomorrow?" she called. She walked toward the Emerald City castle. As we moved away, I looked back and waved.
Her head exploded. A cloud of mist and particles burst out of her forehead. The merry-go-round still turned, very slowly now. For a moment I could hardly understand what had happened. Then I thought, Thank God Jeremy was facing forward.
"Jennifer!" I shouted.
The nose of the Flying Monkey that Jeremy sat on exploded.
I didn't understand at first, but my body did. I grabbed Jeremy, ducked under the forms of two monkeys ahead of ours, and jumped off the slowly moving merry-go-round.
