Lost In America

Lost In America – Franklin Marsh

Adrian was beginning to feel tired. He’d been driving through the desert for nearly twelve hours and the pick-me-ups were beginning to wear off. If he didn’t find a diner or a motel, somewhere, anywhere to rest up soon, things could get dangerous. All he’d seen were flattened off road areas with smashed portable toilets and bullet-holed signs requesting that drivers leave their firearms in their vehicles.

The sun was beginning to hide behind the mountains ahead. The black horizon sprouted yellow which gradually became red via orange. Red sky at night, thought the Englishman, smiling. You’re a long way from home.

The air was so warm that Adrian’s drowsiness was increasing. To take another tablet was out of the question. Come on! Where’s that restaurant?

Lights appeared at the side of the road ahead. Adrian’s sigh of relief was replaced by apprehension. He’d seen some odd people in Arizona – most mercifully from a distance. He wasn’t armed unlike most of the good folks in this desert state. Tread carefully.

As the lights grew nearer, Adrian could make out a long, low, single-storey building with the legend Chico’s Diner – Good Eatin’! gracing a sign by the road. The car park was packed with a conglomeration of huge caravans, trailers, mobile homes and Winnebagos.

As Adrian drove in he could just read a faded paint job proclaiming Dr Dementer’s Carnival Of Oddities on the side of the nearest one. Great, he thought. I just want a meal and a drink and I’ve pitched up in the middle of a freak show. Only in America…

He parked the car and headed for the entrance. The only sound he could hear was the wind, softly blowing sand across the parking lot. Until he pushed the door open and his ears were assaulted by a tortured country and Western chanteuse bemoaning the fact that her man had done her wrong. It was dark inside, and given the amount of vehicles outside, he was surprised that were only four people visible within.

An elderly looking man with grey hair and a beard sat at the bar. He had on a baseball cap with ‘I’m A Part Of Cat Plus’ on the crown. A young but looking old girl was behind the bar.

‘Howdy, Stranger!’ she called. ‘What can I getcha?’

Adrian noted the two young cowboy types playing pool over to his right, but they didn’t seem a threat.

‘A cup of coffee, please.’

The girl paused, smiled and cooed ‘Comin’ up!’ She disappeared through a beaded curtain behind her.

One of the pool players whispered something to his opponent and harsh laughter echoed across the room.

‘ Y’ain’t from around these parts, are ya?’ said Cat Plus, staring at Adrian.

‘No, I’m from England,’ replied Adrian easing himself on to a bar stool and beginning to relax.

The beaded curtain shook, and the girl reappeared with a mug, and a glass container of coffee. A generous slug slurped into the mug, which was banged down on the bar in front of Adrian.

‘Cream? Milk? Sugar?’ she enquired.

‘Just sugar, please. Are you doing food?’

‘Sure thing honey. What ya fancy?’

‘Pancakes?’

The girl looked dumbstruck.

Adrian racked his brains.

‘I’m sorry. What do you call them? Erm…flapjacks?’

The girl brightened considerably. ‘Sure!’ She disappeared again.

Adrian smiled at himself. You’re in America, Ade. Biscuits are crackers. Lorries are trucks. Lifts are elevators, a car bonnet is a hood, and the boot is a trunk. And never, ever call cigarettes ‘fags’.

‘What brings you the heck out here?’ asked Cat Plus. The juke box clicked, and a more up tempo beat was drawled over.

The pool players finished their game and left, tipping their Stetsons to the old man.

‘Just passing through,’ said Adrian.

The girl appeared again with a plate piled high with flapjacks and a jug of maple syrup.

‘Here y’go Mister,’ she gasped. ‘Hope you like ‘em.’

‘I’m sure I will.’

Adrian had noticed that Cat Plus was nursing a virtually empty glass.

‘Beer?’ offered the younger man, reaching for his wallet.

‘That’s right neighbourly of you, Mister. Coors, Julia. If’n you please.’

‘How about you?’ Adrian turned to the girl.

‘Gee thanks! I’ll have a Coke. If that’s OK?’

‘That’s fine.’ Adrian paid for everything, and raised his coffee mug.

‘Cheers, all.’

‘Cheers!’ squeaked the girl.

‘Bottoms up!’ growled Cat Plus, raising his glass and taking a long gulp.

‘So,’ began the Englishman, tucking into his flapjacks, ‘what’s with the Freak Show caravans outside?’

The juke box clicked off. Adrian looked up. The girl was frozen in the act of putting the bottle of fizzy drink to her lips. Her eyes were wide open and her mouth an O. He glanced at Cat Plus. The oldster was twisted on his stool and looking behind Adrian. He licked his lips nervously.

Chewing, Adrian swivelled slowly on his stool. The front door was open and a figure was silhouetted against a glorious sunset. Sand had been blown across the threshold. Black cowboy boots crunched on it as they moved forward. As the figure moved into the light, Adrian held his breath.

A battered top hat crowned long flowing white locks. The man’s face was painfully thin. The eyes were receded in the sockets, and a twisted grin revealed huge even teeth, giving the face a skull like appearance. The thin neck disappeared into a frilled white shirt held together at the collar by a bootlace tie with a cow skull clasp. A fancy silver waistcoat adorned the midriff, and a dust mottled black frock coat hung from the shoulders. Black skin-tight jeans hugged the stick-thin legs.

One skeletal black-gloved hand removed the top hat, the other beat dust from it.

The sunken eyes seemed to move forward to survey Adrian.

‘Good evening,’ purred a deep baritone. ‘I am Doctor Dementer.’

Glass shattered.

The Coke bottle had fallen from Julia’s hand.

‘Sheeit!’

Cat Plus was fumbling at his belt. Adrian was shocked to realise that he was wearing a sidearm. The younger man’s eyes were drawn back to Dementer, who had produced a bullwhip from under his frock coat. The black rawhide lashed out and wrapped around the old man’s wrist, jerking it upward. The revolver went off, the bullet whining off the ceiling and smashing a bottle behind Julia. The girl screamed and threw herself across the bar, clutching hold of Adrian. The entwined couple fell backwards off the barstool and watched from the floor in horror as Dementer slowly drew Cat Plus toward him with the whip.

Silently a black-gloved hand reached out and seized the old man’s throat. He gurgled as the hand squeezed. Julia sobbed into Adrian’s shoulder as they heard the neck bones cracking. Cat Plus vomited blood.

‘Charming’, grinned the apparition as he let the old man fall to the floor. The door opened behind him. The shape of a man entered. His face and arms were covered in long red hair, and he was dressed in a jerkin and trousers apparently made from sacking.

‘Behold!’ smirked Dementer, flourishing his top hat, ‘Leopold, the Lion Man!’

A much smaller figure followed, wearing the same crude clothing. Adrian gasped at the scales on the creature’s face and arms. Dementer waved the hat again.

‘Wade, the Alligator Boy!’

Adrian felt Julia's hands squeezing his flesh. He looked into her tear-stained eyes.

‘Make it stop,’ she pleaded.

‘I can’t,’ he replied, helplessly.

Dementer stretched out a hand.

‘Allow me to assist you’, he purred.

His gloved extremity seized Adrian’s hand, and the Englishman felt himself pulled upward. The girl shrieked and clung on for dear life, burying her face in Adrian’s chest.

‘That’s better,’ said the Doctor, his eyes crawling over the couple.

‘What do you want?’ asked Adrian, his voice cracking with strain.

Leopold barked a laugh.

‘What kinda candy-ass talk is that?’

‘He’s from England,’ said Dementer.

‘Faggot,’ said the Lion Man.

‘Now look here…’

‘No, YOU look here,’ spat Dementer. ‘Freak show, eh?’

Leopold growled, and Wade hissed.

‘I didn’t mean…’

‘No, you never do, do you?’

The door opened again. A huge woman with a huge beard looked in.

‘We’re ready, Doc.’

‘Coming, Hester,’ sang Dementer. ‘This way.’

Leopold moved behind the couple. Adrian started to shuffle toward the door, dragging Julia with him.

‘Come on, come on,’ said the Doctor. ‘This won’t take a minute.’

He led the way outside. Julia whimpered as they passed close to Wade. He glowered at them. Adrian blinked. The sky was now a glorious red. In front of the diner was a large glass tank, with what looked like a swimming pool ladder attached to it. All around were what Adrian supposed were Dementer’s carnival oddities. He didn’t look too closely at them.

‘Up the ladder, quickly now,’ urged the Doctor.

The size of the crowd gathered around dissuaded Adrian from trying anything.

‘Come on, Julia’, he encouraged. ’It’ll be alright.’

She clung tightly to him. They struggled up the ladder and dropped into the tank. Without a word between them, they sat down and clutched one another even more tightly.

What looked like Siamese twins staggered forward pushing an enormous glass bottle on a tall wagon. The lip of the bottle protruded over the edge of the tank. The bottle was filled with an opalescent liquid. Tears stung Adrians eyes.

‘Soon be over,’ said Dementer lightly as he scaled the ladder and pulled on a rope, releasing the bottle stopper.

The liquid poured over the embracing couple. The oddities oohed and aahed as the two bodies began to smoulder, and liquesce and bubble.

‘What’s in that stuff, Doc?’ asked Leopold.

‘A concoction of my own design,’ replied Dementer, watching the bones begin to poke through the flesh. ‘There’s a lot in it. It takes off the hide ‘n’ hair, dissolves the organs, tissues and muscles.’ He smiled. ‘But leaves the bones. A bit of acid...some lime…’

‘He’ll like that,’

‘Who?’

‘The Limey.’

Dementer turned to the Lion Man with an expression of surprised delight on his face.

‘Why Leopold, I do believe you cracked a joke.’ Leopold wagged his tail.

‘Shit, that stuff works fast.’

The oddities surveyed the smouldering ruins of Adrian and Julia, locked together forever.

‘What you gonna do with ’em Doc?’ asked Hester. ’Put ’em in the Ghost Train like the others?’

‘No, my dear, I think these two herald the beginning of something new. A Tunnel…Of Love.’

The oddities cheered and squawked and grunted.

Dementer cracked his whip above their heads. They fell silent.

‘Listen up, Children,’ he cried, losing his veneer of gentility. ‘That joint’s chock fulla booze! Before we get back on the Highway to Hell I want you all to get in there and have a good time! And remember - money and guns go in my trailer!’

The oddities whooped and hollered, and began to walk, crawl, slither and ooze towards the entrance to Chico’s.

‘Dick!’

‘Yes, Doc?’

The midget was hanging on to a leash attached to a collar around the neck of a hideous, squat beast covered in warts.

‘Fire up the barbeque! There’s an old galoot on the floor in there. You and Claude may as well enjoy some of the special stuff.’

‘Gee thanks Doc! C’mon feller!’

Soon there was only the Doctor, the Lion Man and the Alligator Boy left outside. They could hear the shouts, screams, the smashing of bottles, the occasional gunshot and the wailing of some Good Ol’ Boys from the juke box.

‘Comin’ in, Wade?’

‘No thanks Doc. I’ll stay out here on watch.’

‘Good man.’

Leopold muttered ‘Faggot.’

‘Hey Doc?’ asked Wade ‘Where we goin’ next?’

Dementer grinned. ‘To whatever piss-ant burg gets in our way.’


‘Can I get the map?’

‘Sure.’

Wade scrambled into Dementer’s trailer.

‘You humour that boy too much. Sometimes I think he ain’t really one of us,’ grumbled Leopold.

Dementer knew Wade was inordinately proud of the fact that he was one of the few oddities who could read.

‘He’s sure one of us, Leopold. How could he be anything else?’

The Doctor and The Lion Man stared out at the empty road.

‘How much longer can we keep goin’?’ mused Leopold.

‘To the end of the road,’ replied the Doc. ‘It’s a big country, Leopold and this is a big state.’

Wade leaped down from the trailer clutching a road map. Dementer carried on.

‘Enough desert to hide us forever. And we don’t really need to hide. Folks see us, they look away. They don’t really want to see us. Gives us a kinda….licence, don’t you think?’

‘Hey Doc! You ain’t gonna believe this! The next town’s called Peaceville!’

‘You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’, Wade?’

‘No Sir! Says right here.’

‘Shit, whaddaya know? Listen boy, me and Leopold, we’re gonna join the party. You stay here and keep a good lookout.’

‘Sure thing, Doc.’

Wade was glad he had the Doc’s approval. He wasn’t much for drinking, or for the other things they got up to on nights like this. Sometimes, the oddities were too much like real folks.

‘What’s the plan, Doc?' muttered Leopold as they moved toward the diner.

‘Let’s have a few drinks, then burn this fuckin’ dump to the ground and get on to Peaceville. C’mon, Leopold, let’s see if that music machine has any Goddamned rock ‘n’ roll on it. I’m sick to death of this hillbilly crap.’

******************

Wade sat in the trailer. He read the map. He pretended to drive. He counted stars. He curled up on the front seat and fell asleep. Lights swept across the trailer, waking him. He peeked through the windscreen. A battered Ford Pinto had pulled into the parking lot. Four teenagers emerged.

‘Hey, some party going on in there, guys! Let’s join ’em.’

‘Ew! What’s that in the tank?’

Wade’s eyes popped at the girls’ short shorts and skimpy tops. He ducked out of sight as the blonde, bespectacled car driver looked around.

‘Dr Dementer’s Carnival Of Oddities , ’ he read.

‘Yeah!’ said the other boy, ‘Lets go party with the freaks!’

Wade’s lip curled. They’d pay for that. He risked a glance. The two boys and two girls were facing the diner. He reached up and slipped a shotgun from the rack above the seats. The passenger boy was imitating a limp and slobbering. Wade slid from the trailer. The two girls held on to one another as they approached the tank.

‘Ew!’

‘Gross!’

‘Come on, guys, let’s go.’

The driver, impatient to leave, turned back to the car.

‘Shit!’

‘What’s up, Lyle?’

His friends rejoined him, and they all stared at Wade.

‘What is it?’

‘Is it one of the freaks?’

‘Come on, that’s gotta be make up! No -one could be that…’

It was a struggle, but Wade managed to pull back the slide and jack a shell into the breech.

‘Come on, Toad Boy, get away from my car!’

Wade pulled the trigger. The shell blew the left hand front tyre to shreds. He staggered back from the recoil, but stayed upright and managed to pump the action again.

‘Shit! Fuck! My car! You fuckin’ FREAK!’

‘You’re the freaks,’ muttered Wade.

‘Now, that wasn’t very nice.’

The youngsters turned to see Doctor Dementer exit the diner.

‘Look what he did to my car!’

‘Oh dear.’ Dementer giggled. ‘Good shot, Wade.’

The girls screamed as Leopold appeared behind Dementer.

‘A werewolf!’

‘All part of the show,’ said the other boy.

‘If it’s a show, what about the car, numbnuts?’ said the driver.

‘Looks like your Tunnel Of Love’s shapin’ up, Doc,’ slurred Leopold.

Dementer’s whip curled out and lashed around the driver’s neck. The Doctor began to haul him in as Leopold led other oddities out of the diner, to surround the teens.

‘Seeing as you kids aren’t going anywhere soon,’ smiled Dementer, ‘why not join the party?’