Be careful what you wish for, because the consequences may be more than you are willing to pay. Those were the words that I spoke to myself as I sat alone in the backseat of the police cruiser. I was handcuffed and being bounced around like a rag doll as the car raced down the wet muddy back roads of Winters Texas.
I was brought to tears mouthing those words over and over. "Be careful what you wish for—" I whispered.
"Ehh? You sayin' somethin' back there Bret?" The officer driving the police cruiser asked. "Oh what a shit storm y'er in. Why'd ya' do it boy?"
"—be careful what you wish for," was the only reply I gave.
There was a bright flash of light as lightning streaked across the black moonless sky. A loud crack followed by a deep rolling thunder came soon after the lightning flash. This made me think of the night that they came into town.
It was on a night much like this one, but it was one week earlier when things were normal. Well about as normal as things could get around here.
ΔΔΔ
The night was cold and damp. The clouds scattered across the sky were almost as dark as the sky itself making them hard to see. The stars were bright looking down at a little boy that stood outside looking up at the stars with my mother. My father was working late at a side job and we were waiting for him to get home. That was when I saw the most incredible thing. It seemed to come right out of the blackness of the sky.
It began with just a small spark, but it lit up the sky like a miniature sun. My mouth dropped open as it streaked across the sky from horizon to horizon in an instant.
"Look Bret! It's a shooting star. Make a wish son and if you believe hard enough it will come true." Mother had the kindest face I had ever seen and even though it seemed like she had been crying I still thought that she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I don't remember why she was crying, but I think it had something to do with my father not being home.
I closed my eyes and made my wish silently. I could hear something off in the distance. The sound was that of rolling thunder, but there were no storm clouds in the sky and this sound seemed to be constant. The odd thing was that the sound wasn't coming from above like normal thunder, but coming off from the west where the star had fallen.
It wasn't until that next morning did I find out what that sound had been. My sister and I decided to take mother a homemade lunch that consisted of one apple, one banana, one ham sandwich and one PB&J sandwich with the crusts cut off. I had fixed the latter and I thought that it would be appropriate thinking about how sad my mother had been the night before and when I was sad she would always fix me a PB&J sandwich. This never failed to lift my spirits.
The small town of Winters was a handful of streets surrounded by miles and miles of farmland and grazing fields for livestock. The town itself was only a few square miles and my family lived in a small brick house that my father had built himself just on the outskirts of town, on Stephens St. one of the longest roads in town.
We had to walk to the corner store that was located at the corner of Stephens and Elm, one of the three only major cross streets in Winters Texas. The store was made of block instead of brick and had been painted canary yellow.
I loved visiting her while she was at work because The CornerStore, as it was amply named, had the best tasting red-soda in town. Mother always made sure that when I left the store that I got a small fountain drink of what ever I wanted. To me it was a no-brainer, I got the sweet red-soda and also a chocolate bar.
That day there was a ringing in my ears as my sister, Maggie and I walked down the Stephens Street in the June day sun. The heat started swelling up as the day passed from morning to afternoon and sweat began to drip down my forehead. I could still taste the sweet chocolate that I had pilfered from my hidden stash of sweets when the tent first came into view.
It stood in the empty field that separated downtown Winters from the housing district. The field was used by ranchers to graze their cattle or hold their houses, but this year it seemed that they lent it to a traveling carnival.
They were putting up a bright red sing with wicked lettering across it that announced The Phoenix Carnival of Exotic Wonders will be opening their tents tomorrow. The price was $5 for children and $7 for adults.
"Wow Bret would you look at that?" His older sister said. "Do you think mom and dad will take us?"
My sister may have been older, but her common sense was not that of a twelve year old. "Mom may let us go, but I doubt father will get home in time for us to go. At least not before dark," I told her.
"Well maybe that's a good thing, because it would cost $24 for the family to go, but then again dad would probably not go. That would mean it would cost $17 for mom to take us." She thought a moment as we halved the distance between us and the store. "Maybe we can collect bottles or cans to get the money to go. Then mom and dad couldn't say that we couldn't afford it."
Then again, I thought to myself, sometimes she does have some common sense. I didn't even think that we may not be able to afford it. I just took it for granted that Maggie and I would get to go no matter the cost.
There was a series of trucks lined end to end. Painted on the sides of these trucks were a series of attractions; a man covered in hair or fur with sharp teeth, a woman that was human from waist up and snake from waist down surrounded by a host of freaks of nature, and finally was an artist rendition of a young boy in Egyptian head dress surrounded by thousands of worshipers.
"How long do you think it would take to raise the money?" I asked Maggie.
"I don't know squirt. I think may a couple of days at least if we both worked hard."
There was no time like the present and so we started collecting cans and bottles on the last stretch of road to the store. It was only a few hundred yards but with me on one side of the street and Maggie on the other we managed to collect a handful of cans and even a few bottles a piece.
We delivered our homemade meal to mother and asked her about the carnival, but she looked at us with sad eyes and told us that she would have to see. "You know how your father is about things like that. I will have to talk with him."
"Well if it makes a difference, Bret and I can pay our own way in mom. We have decided to collect cans and stuff to make enough money for tickets." Maggie was now bargaining with mother and it seemed to be working.
Mother for her part seemed impressed with her daughter's initiative. There was a twinkle in my mother's eyes that I hadn't seen for a long time. I was glad to see it again.
I stood outside the store with my face pressed against the glass looking in on them both. My cheeks were bulging from fruity flavored candy that had been stuffed to the max in my mouth. There was that strange ringing in my ears that was only interrupted by "Um—excuse me."
I turned around quickly to see a young boy about my age standing behind. He looked as dirty as any other six or seven year-old boy with tattered jeans that were worn thin at the knees. The yellow and brown striped shirt was brown all over from dirt and his hair was unkempt and the same flaming red as the freckles on his face.
He seemed to be waiting for me to move out from in front of the double glass doors to go into the store, but once I moved he did not go in.
"What are you doing? Somethin' interesting goin' on in there?" He moved to the place where I had been and pressed his face against the glass. "No," he said simply. "Just some girl talking to some ol'lady."
This caused a reaction in me that I hadn't felt before. "You take that back! My mother isn't old!" I knew that he hadn't meant it in a rude or hateful manner, but for some reason, maybe it was the buzzing and ringing in my ears, but this boy was starting to get on my nerves.
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