My little car protested, but eventually started, and I drove through the quiet streets of Lickin Creek. Although only a little past eight, the few stores that remained downtown were closed. The trees that lined the streets had already lost their leaves, and their stark branches sparkled with tiny white lights that looked like Christmas to me, but stayed up all year round. The fountain was illuminated by several spotlights, and I was glad to see someone had placed carved jack-o’-lanterns around its base between the pots of chrysanthemums. At night, downtown was as magical as the Emerald City of Oz. The mood was broken when a teenager in a souped-up car roared past, and a beer can flew out of the right rear window. I quickly passed through town and out of it, and was soon on one of the farm roads that wound its way through the peaceful countryside. The peaceful and dark countryside. I was alone in more ways than one.
Somehow, I missed the peach stand and drove nearly to West Mountain before I realized how far I'd come and had to turn around. I drove more slowly on the country lane until I found the mailbox that said Hostet-tler farm.
Flickering lights in the lower windows of the farmhouse indicated the oil lamps were lit. I couldn't imagine why people would chose to live in such a primitive way when there were so many modern conveniences available, but I had to admire the Amish for the way they held on to their beliefs in the face of the encroaching American culture.
The narrow road down the hill, which had been washed away the last time I was here, had been filled in with gravel, and I drove right down to the barn. I parked close to the building, then waited a moment to steel my nerves. Tonight I was going to tell Darious there was absolutely nothing between us, not now, and not in the future. Never ever. Hearing Garnet's voice on the telephone tonight had reinforced my feelings for him. I didn't need any other man in my life. Not now, not in the future. Not ever.
I was surprised to find the door to the barn slightly ajar. The other two times I'd been here, Darious had kept it locked, a precaution I could understand since I now knew how valuable carousel animals were. I pulled it open wider and listened to the carousel organ playing “In the Good Old Summertime.” I smiled, as I could imagine Darious riding the newly repaired jumper on his carousel. Perhaps, after I talked to him, he'd let me take one last ride. There were no lights on in the little anteroom, so I crossed it slowly and carefully, until my foot bumped against a stone step.
After climbing the short flight of steps, I pushed open the door. The carousel music was much louder than it had been on my other two visits. Even though I called Darious's name, there was no way he'd hear me over the din. I slipped inside. The barn, as usual, was un-lighted, except for the spinning carousel. Before me was a blur of lights, bouncing from the sparkling jewels on the animals and the gilt trim and mirrors of the carousel itself. I leaned against the wall for a moment to regain my equilibrium, for the sight and sound were overwhelming.
Regaining my balance, I walked slowly toward the merry-go-round, savoring the beauty of the moment, the lights, the colors, and the music. The golden chariot passed by me before it registered on me that someone was sitting in it. Darious, of course. Apollo the sun god riding his chosen chariot. I smiled and waited for it to come around again.
This time, I saw Darious was indeed in the chariot, but although I waved and tried to catch his attention, he paid me no attention as he spun past.
There was something about the way he looked that triggered a frisson of fear in me. The way he was slumped to one side, the way his head hung, the way he ignored me. Something was wrong.
“If there's one thing I hate, it's being ignored,” I muttered. “Here goes.” I jumped onto the moving platform and caught hold of the head of a tiger to keep from falling off. “Steady, Tori,” I admonished myself. After a moment I got my sea legs, or carousel legs, as I guessed they should be called, and started to work my way toward the chariot, walking against the counterclockwise direction of the machine.
I called his name but Darious didn't look up. There was a stain on his shirt. Like a salmon swimming upstream against the current, I moved slowly past the jumping horses that stood between me and the chariot, drawing closer and closer to Darious, who still seemed not to notice me. His eyes were open, yet not seeing. Not seeing, because… oh God… because his throat was slashed from side to side. Blood was everywhere. On the chariot, on his clothes, splattered on the horse in front of him.
I grasped the side rail of the chariot and found it sticky. Reluctantly, I touched his wrist with two fingers. It was still warm, but there was no pulse. Darious was dead. Beautiful, mysterious Darious. Apollo had returned home to Mount Parnassus.
Tears burned my eyes as bile rose in my throat, and the carousel continued to spin and the music continued to play. This had to be some sort of bizarre nightmare, I told myself. This is too surreal to actually be happening. I blinked and tried to will myself awake, but when I opened my eyes, Darious's body was a gruesome reminder that this moment was all too real.
I had to get away. I leaped free of the carousel and landed painfully on my knees. I rushed to the door with only one thing on my mind, getting away from the awful thing behind me.
I was terrified. What if the murderer was in here with me? Frightened half to death, I pushed on the door. It didn't move. I pushed, I pulled, I jiggled the latch, I even kicked it, but nothing budged. I was locked in. The windows were boarded up. There was no way out.
Darious's workshop. Maybe there was a way out through it. With my back to the barn wall, I cautiously worked my way toward that part of the barn. The carousel music was unbearably loud. The monster who'd cut Darious's throat could be right behind me, and I'd never hear it.
At last, I came to the workshop door. A frightened glance around convinced me that no one was close, and I took a deep breath and pulled on the door. It, too, was locked. I dropped to the floor, drew my knees to my chest, and covered my face with my arms. I wanted to cry but didn't dare. The monster lurking in the dark might hear me.
This was the moment when the cavalry should crest the hill or a knight in shining armor should ride in on a white horse to rescue me. But I knew I'd seen too many movies, read too many books, and there was no one coming to save me. No one even knew where I was. My life was in my hands and my hands only.
I had to find a way out. There must be another entrance. I tried to remember what the barn looked like from outside. Of course! There were huge double doors at one end, large enough to drive a tractor through. With any luck, they wouldn't be locked. Staying close to the wall, I inched my way across the barn until I reached the opposite end of the building. My fingers touched a metal hinge and I knew I'd reached the doors. Ignoring the danger that hid in the darkness, I turned around, found the latch, released it, and shoved. It, too, was locked. I collapsed on the floor, too terrified even to cry.
Windows. There were windows. All boarded up, but maybe I could pry some boards loose. Not even thinking about the danger, I ran across the barn to where I knew there was a window. Grabbing hold of a plank, I tugged on it with all my might, but it was firmly fixed to the window frame. If I had a crowbar or some kind of tool, I might be able to pry it off, but everything was locked away in Darious's workshop.
I closed my eyes and tried to envision the barn from the outside, again. There were shuttered windows on the levels above this floor. If I could find the stairs, perhaps I could break through the shutters. By now, my eyes were thoroughly accustomed to the dim barn interior lit by the flashing lights of the carousel. And I saw no one. I remembered a ladder, next to the workshop door, which led to a dark hole in the ceiling. Taking a chance, I ran across the barn. And still, the monster didn't come.