interest, the answer is no.
That’s ridiculous.” “I sure wouldn’t want to be a part of something
like that,” Ghost said.
“You’ve got an ugly, dirty little mind,” Straker said, disgusted.
“I’m not looking for fresh meat, for God’s sake. I’m searching for one
child in particular, someone special.” “Who?” “That’s none of your
business.” Excited, as always, by the prospect of finally,
successfully concluding his long search, Conrad said, “I’ve got to get
over to Zena’s tent. She’s probably just about finished with the
girl.
This could be the one. This could be the one I’ve been looking for.”
In the funhouse, their voices muffled by the walls, the girls screamed
again.
As Straker turned toward the platform steps, anxious to hear what Zena
had discovered, the albino put a hand on his arm, detaining him.
“Last season, in almost every town we hit, there was a kid who caught
your eye.
Sometimes two or three kids. How long have you been looking?”
“Fifteen years.”
Ghost blinked. For a moment a pair of thin, translucent lids covered
but did not fully conceal his strange eyes. “Fifteen years? That
doesn’t make sense.” “To me, it makes perfect sense,” Straker said
coldly.
“Look, last year was my first season working for you, and I didn’t want
to complain about anything until I understood your routines better.
But that business with the kids really bugged me. There’s something
creepy about it.
And now it’s starting all over again this year. I just don’t like
being a part of it.” “Then quit,” Straker said sharply. “Go to work
for someone else.” aBut, except for this one thing, I like the job.
It’s good work and good pay.” “Then do what you’re told, take your
paycheck, and shut up,” Straker said. “Or get the hell out. It’s your
choice.”
Straker tried to pull away from the albino, but Ghost would not
relinquish his hold on the larger man’s arm. His bony, clammy,
death-white hand had a surprisingly strong grip. “Tell me one thing.
Just to set my mind at ease.” “What is it?” Straker asked
impatiently.
“If you ever find who you’re looking for, do you intend to hurt him .
. . or her?” “Of course not,” Straker lied. “Why would I hurt him?”
“Well, I don’t understand why you’re so obsessed with this search,
unless–” “Look,” Straker said, “there’s a woman to whom I’m deeply
indebted. I’ve lost track of her over the years. I know she has
children by now, and every time I see a kid who resembles her, I check
it out. I figure I might be lucky enough to stumble across her
daughter or son, find her, and repay the debt.”
Ghost frowned. “You’re going to an awful lot of trouble just to–”
“It’s an awfully big debt,” Straker said, interrupting him. “It’s on
my conscience. I won’t rest easy until I repay it.” aBut the chance
that she’d have a kid that looks like her, the chance that her kid will
come wandering past your funhouse some day . . . Do you realize what a
long shot that is?” “I know it’s unlikely,” Straker said. aBut it
doesn’t cost me anything to keep an eye out for kids who resemble
her.
And crazier things happen.”
The albino looked into Straker’s eyes, searching for signs of deception
or truth.
Straker was not able to read anything in Ghost’s eyes, for they were
too strange to be interpreted. Because they were without color, they
were also without character. White and faded pink. Watery.
Bottomless eyes.
The albino’s gaze was piercing but cold, emotionless.
At last Ghost said, “All right. I guess if you’re just trying to find
someone to repay an old debt . . . there’s nothing wrong with me
helping you.” “Good. It’s settled. Now I’ve got to talk to Gunther
for a minute, and then I’m going over to Zena’s. You take over the
pitchman’s roost for me,” Straker said, finally managing to pull free
of the albino’s moist hand.
Inside the funhouse a new chorus of girlish voices wailed in a shrill
imitation of horror.
As the huge clown’s face spat out another mechanical laugh, Straker