Scarytale pt.2 of 3
By Quinn Ireland
Lawrence:
Scary and I enter the woods at about one AM according to my old rusty watch. It has been a gift for my eleventh birthday, which was only three years ago, but as my mom always says;
“Lawrence, can’t you keep something new clean for a day?”
I soon realized that scary wasn’t by my side. My heart began to beat, my hands began to shake.
“Scary… Larry where are you?”
My voice carries into the night and echoes around the thick old growth woods. I turn back and walk toward the dim moonlight waiting at the edge of the woods. I then begin to run. But a hand grabs my shoulder as I break the undergrowth. I scream. The thing screams. Just before I faint from fear, I notice a black ball cap with striking Yankees crossings meeting my eyes in the dim moonlight.
“Ha ha! Gotcha!”
Scary was laughing hysterically while rolling around on the ground.
“I got you good!”
“No, you didn’t, buster”
I said with gusto.
“I knew it was you the whole time!”
Scary continued to laugh and roll around;
“The look on your face! I finally got you, after all those years, damn, that was good!”
“Laugh it up!”
I gritted my teeth. I hated to admit it, but he had gotten me. He had gotten me good. In fact, I don’t think that I had been that afraid since third grade. But that’s a separate story.
“That was a waste of time, Larry. Let’s find this place.”
“Well, you’re in a bad mood. Why were you scared, the place is fake anyway.”
“I’m fine, let’s go!”
“And… you called me… Larry.”
He continued to press me, so I gave in;
“Okay! Fine! I startled you would too if something grabbed your shoulder in the middle of the woods past midnight!”
Scary nodded slowly and considered this before lifting me up and saying;
“All right, let’s go investigate.”
So, they trudged through the woods. Just two boys searching for an old circus tent.
Larry:
There is no way for us to tell where in the forest we were. Every tree, shrub, or stump all looks the same. Only our bright flashlights carry us on through the dense forest. Lawrence still whips around at every branch that brushes his shoulder. I guess I scared him bad. It is funny though, I always thought that Lawrence was a chill guy, I never expected him to be afraid of anything. After a couple of minutes of trudging along in silence, he finally spoke up;
“You did get me good, Scary.”
I felt surprisingly good after hearing that, along with the punch on the arm that came shortly after.
“But you better watch your back, I’ll get you when you least expect it!”
We both laughed and kept trudging along through the muddy, thick woods.
Lawrence taps me on the arm;
“What’s that?” he says in a hushed tone.
Strait ahead through the trees, is a thin stretch of light that is cutting through the forest. I start to think; “Maybe this funhouse is real?”
Lawrence:
Scary looks at the dim yellow light shining through the clusters of trees. My eyes follow his. I blink and still see it there, making a path. “We’re just imagining things, Scary. I mean, why would there be light at one- thirty in the morning?” “I don’t know,” he says. “But let’s go find out.” I gulp as we approach the light. Soon we are about one hundred yards away. Moments later, I step on grass. I’ve stepped into a clearing. Then I see it. It’s covered in weathered blue and red paint. It has old glowing lamps on the ground surrounding it. It is sitting in the middle of a massive field. It is a circus tent.
