FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Ket relaxed a bit with a sigh. He was last in the group, and as he exhaled Emeral glanced back to give him a bit of a smile.

The apology wasn't as bad as he had imagined it. She even softened the blow for him. He wasn't really angry, she gave as an excuse; he was trying to balance having fun without being too miserable.

He ended up believing her, as if even he needed convincing.

"There it is!" Emeral pointed out, moving to be in the lead.

It was a game she had spotted earlier. The hour of nine was fifteen minutes away, and so people were scrambling to pack as much as they could in the last hour before the park closed. Since a lot of the major attractions were rides, that left the games nearly line-less.

The host of the game was a badger wearing a lab-coat and a pair of glasses. The right eye had a swirly, hypnotist's spindle on it, giving him the impression of a mad doctor. "Welcome," he greeted, his voice carrying a bit of a wheeze mixed with grit. "Are you kids interested in taking part in a mad experiment?"

Emeral giggled. The badger was obviously acting in character, but he was so silly she couldn't help it. "Does it use rockets?" She asked. Of course she knew the answer; she had seen one fly up in this booth very briefly before the bumper-cars.

It was also pretty obvious since small pump-rockets were sitting on a black tarp.

"Very observant," the badger said, a maniacal spice in his voice. "You see, I need to land a rocket up onto the surface of one of the planets up there." He pointed up above their heads. Hanging quite high up were several platforms, lit with Christmas tree lights. They varied in radius and how high up they were; the largest was the lowest and the smallest was the highest.

"But I'm afraid of fast-moving objects, so," the badger fidgeted with his hands, "I can't do it myself. Would you two like to try? One dollar for two rockets, per person."

"Heh, there's the catch," Garne said.

The badger was quick to say, "Mad doctors have to make a living, too."

The parents obliged the children, each dropping a dollar into the box by the "scientist's" desk.

"Now, all you have to do is step on this pad here," the scientist said, pointing at the rocket stands, "You can move the stand anywhere you'd like. My advice: don't step too hard or too soft. Depending on which planet you land on--if you land on one--I will give you one of these prizes," he gestured to his prize stand.

Ket saw some kind-of neat things: glow wands, star-stickers, pop-rocks, and such. That kind of stuff was for the larger, easier platforms. The three harder platforms had a pump-rocket as prize for third, a gryo-ball for second, and an RC Car if you could land it on the smallest, highest platform.

He had a feeling Emeral was in it more for the fun. That was her style. He could tell especially from the smile that was on her face as she grabbed one of the rockets and looked up at the hanging garden of planetary surfaces.

She positioned the stand as best she could. She was eager to see the rocket fly up, but she wanted to try and get a prize. The platforms up above were kind of high, but they had little lips on them to catch the rocket, just barely.

Unable to hold back, she stepped on it as hard as she could. The pump gave the most satisfying hiss as the rocket popped into the air. Even against the night sky she could see it fly up, thanks to the generous lighting. The blue ship traveled just shy the speed of light as it purged its way into space.

But it didn't quite breach escape velocity; its journey fell short of the fourth-highest platform--literally. As it began to descend, it just barely nicked the edge of the lowest platform, and so was sent crashing back down to Earth, bouncing once on impact.

"So close," the doctor said with a finger-snap. "Try once more."

Eagerly she retrieved the same rocket and shoved it back onto the stand. She moved it over just a smidge, and then readied her right foot for a good stomp. Stomp she did, but the rocket stand shifted because of it, and it wound up thumping against the second-lowest platform.

"Calibration systems must be malfunctioning," the doctor mumbled, as if to himself. "Your tries are up I'm afraid. It's your friend's turn."

Ket picked up the dizzy rocket and carefully placed it back on the stand. More the cold and calculating type, he adjusted and readjusted his positioning. It was hard, though, because the platforms were against the black night sky.

Emeral began humming the Jeoperdy theme.

"Oh stop," her mom said. "You haven't even seen that show. You're too young."

"It's fine, I've got it," Ket said, and promptly stepped on the rocket.

As if guided by Houston, the rocket floated up, and plopped right on the lowest platform.

"All right!" The doctor cheered. "Fantastic display of methodology. Now...to retrieve my rocket..."

The badger grabbed a step-ladder and, of all things, a ladle and used both in combination to pull the rocket off the platform. He did it with a practiced nature, and in only a minute or so Ket had the rocket back.

The tiger placed it down again, at the same spot. This time, he would try to just have fun. He turned sideways, and stomped on the pad. It went way off behind the tarp, not even remotely close to the direction of the goal.

"Well, I guess Houston decided to hire monkeys." The badger joked. "Anyway, come claim a prize from the bottom."

Ket and Emeral went over to the prize box.

"You can pick." He offered.

"Nuh-uh, you got the prize. You pick."

He shrugged. Not interested and wary of the food items, he opted for a glow wand.

"Are you guys gonna try?" Emeral asked their moms.

"Oh no, this is all you guys. Besides," Momma B. displayed her digital camera, which had a picture of Ket with a blurry leg as he was just about to stomp on the pressure pad. "Our fun is taking pictures."

"So you did have a camera." Emeral stated, as they walked on to another game.

"You didn't see?" Momma R. said, "Some guy just gave it to us while you guys were in outer space."

The look they got from their kids wasn't as bad as it could have been.

"Okay, I played my game. Now it's Ket's turn."

This was the part he was dreading most. "I dunno," he shrugged.

"Ugh." Emeral dropped her head to the side. "I knew you'd say that. C'mon, let's walk around." She took his hand. "Maybe there'll be an Egyptian-themed game," she said optimistically.

It wasn't that he was bored or anything. He just had a hard time picking things. He barely picked his clothes out for the day, let alone a game that was going to cost them money.

He did look at the games that they passed. But none seemed to stand out. It wouldn't be worth it to play any of the games as they were; there was no merit. He knew that if he was going to find interest in any of these games, he would need a goal. An objective.

A prize, maybe. He started focusing on the prizes displayed at the games. Lots of them were pretty staple. Every one of them had some form of glow-wand or little trinket. Some of them had pretty good prizes on display, though.

Hot-Wheels, Magnetix, Nerf Guns, a skateboard, a giant stuffed teddy-bear--

Ket froze in his step. "I wanna play that one," he stated. As they walked toward the booth, he began to realize why his brain had so suddenly acted.

Lyza had a giant stuffed rabbit. He had a giant stuffed Sphinx. And Emeral? Clearly, it was her turn to get something; and clearly, it was his job to do it. His goal. His objective.

"Excuse me?" Momma B. said to the hostess of the game, who was wearing earphones.

"Ya?" She asked, in a teen-aged way despite looking fresh in her twenties.

"We'd like to play your game."

The hostess sighed. "M'kay. See the wall?" She pointed to the back wall of her booth, which had several shaped holes on it. "Throw the Frisbee in a hole, get a prize. Best prize is the red hole."

The red hole was at the very top, far above Ket's height, and was tilted just a little bit diagonally-left.

"It's a buck a toss." The twenty-something teenager added, gesturing to her money box. She put her earphone pieces back in and just watched them.

"I liked the scientist better," Emeral grumbled.

Ket nodded absently, but he looked at the prize display. Each of the prizes had an indication of what hole allotted what prize, just like in the rocket-ship game. In this case, they were color-coded. The stuffed bear, of course, had a red dot by it, indicating he would have to hit the red hole in order to get it.

"Can I play it mom?" He asked.

She dug a bill out of her purse and placed it into the box.

The hostess handed him a Frisbee.

As he readied to throw he kind of wished he had been more involved in the toss he took part in just under twenty-four hours ago. At least he could have gotten some practice down.

"It's all in the wrist," Emeral chimed encouragingly.

He smiled, if a little absently. The red hole up top was the thinnest and oddest to hit, especially for someone of his stature. But Frisbees were pretty flexible if you knew how to throw them; the others showed him that last night.

He tossed it. It wobbled toward the backdrop, thumping onto it like a dumb fish.

He obviously didn't know how to throw them.

"Wanna try again?" His mom asked. She was given a nod, and so she dropped another dollar into the box.

The hostess had lots of Frisbees at her disposal, and apparently only went to get them when she ran out, as evidenced by the half a dozen that littered the game field. The one he was given this time was a white Frisbee.

Maybe that would be good luck, he reasoned as he picked a different stance. It matched Emeral's fur, so maybe it would be destined to go exactly where he wanted it to. He could see it now, it would drift through the hole like a basketball swishing through a net. Clean and effortless. And then he'd pick the big stuffed bear, playing it off like he was doing it as an apology.

Frissssssss-thunk.

The Frisbee hit the hole the exact opposite way it should have--diagonally to the right.

"Maybe one more?" His mom asked.

He nodded, a bit discouraged. His next Frisbee was blue.

Now the magic was gone. There was no way he was going to fit it in the hole now. Or maybe that was it; reverse-psychology. That was a thing right? He was absolutely not going to get it in the hole this time. There was no way; it's impossible.

"Third time's the charm," Emeral chimed again.

He threw it with all his might and technique. It hovered up, and smacked the wall with such force that it began to flip back at them.

Had Emeral not flinched and gotten out of the way, she would have been wearing the Frisbee as another hat.

"Whoa now," Momma B. commented. "Mr. Muscles over here."

"Can I try it again mom?" He asked.

"Sure," she smiled and offered another bill to the box.

By this try Ket was sure he wouldn't get the bear in this game. He was too short for it; there should be a sign. You must be this tall to even have a chance at playing this unfair game. But the easier holes were his height, and he was determined to walk away from this game with a prize.

"Woo-hoo!" Emmy cheered, as the Frisbee whizzed into the lowest, widest hole.

Ket didn't really get any satisfaction about it.

"Congratulations," the hostess said dryly, like his accomplishment was an extreme inconvenience for her. Which it probably was, because now she had to take her earphones out again. "You can pick from the green buckets."

Ket walked over to the prize area. The green buckets were at his height too, and had a bunch of--well, just guess. He ignored the glow-sticks and reached into one that had a bunch of plastic-wrapped trinkets in it.

"Have a good night," bid the twenty-teen as they left, excited that she could get back to not-doing-anything-at-all.

"So, what'd you pick?" Emeral asked.

As they walked, Ket finally looked at the prize crinkling in his hand. It was a little reddish-purple ring with a heart on it. Hardly his style.

"I think mom's right," she commented, "You are absorbing too much estrogen."

"Here," he said, offering it to her. "You'll find a better use for it."

She giggled. "I guess it would look better on me than you," she teased as she tugged at the package. She grunted and grumbled, unable to tear open the plastic.

"I can do it," Ket said, and retrieved the package from her. He tried peeling it apart at the seam as well, but found that to be too much trouble. Instead, he put a corner into his mouth, bit down, and pulled the other half.

Emeral chuckled. "I coulda done that," she said as she held out her hand for the ring. "Aww, it looks so cute." She put it on the ring-finger of her right hand. It was a bit of a tight fit.

"Are you two getting married?" Momma B. teased.

Emeral huffed. "Not this again. Ket picked a girly ring, so he gave it to me. A girl. Got a problem?"

"No." She said, displaying her wedding band with a smile. "You just look like you have a wedding ring on."

Ears flattening, "I put the ring on my ring finger," she stated.

"Well yeah," Momma R. said, "And why do you think they call it the ring finger? It's where your wedding ring goes!"

"Fine!" Emeral twisted it off her ring finger and moved it to her index. "There. It fits better here anyway."

"Ket's just walking like 'I'm not here'," his mom teased.

"Okay, okay, leave 'em alone Micah," Momma B. finally said. "It's your turn Emmy. See a game you like?"

Emeral looked around, absent-mindedly rubbing the ring with her left thumb and fore-finger. "Umm... What about that one?" She pointed to a booth that had a big turtle on its sign. "Can't go wrong with turtles, can you?"

"Oh I love turkles," Momma R. stated. "Ket, remember when we used to go camping at that lake a few times every summer? With all the little turkles popping their heads out of the water?"

"I remember thinking they were called turkles until first grade..." He replied sarcastically.

"Well that's your own fault for listening to your mother." She retorted in the same vein.

They approached the booth, which had a bit of a crowd by it instead of a line. The host of the booth was a very upright-looking Emperor Penguin, with a very loud voice. "Farnsworth takes the lead by a few inches, but Jeremy isn't too far behind. It's neck-and-neck aaaaaaaaaaand--Farnsworth keeps the lead!"

The crowd of eight or so kids cheered, as the winner was given a prize. Emeral pushed through the crowd to see exactly what the game was all about. There were four turtles made out of flat wood, painted in varying shades of green. Each one had a rope that ran through its head, which was attached to a hook on the far wall. An assistant was resetting all the turtles back to the beginning, designated by a thick white line; another line designated a finish line.

"Who would like to play next?"

Emeral immediately raised her hand. She looked at Ket; so did he.

They were picked, along with two other kids, and they made their way to the ropes as the penguin collected the bills.

"The game is really simple," the assistant said, handing each child their rope. "You have to get your turtle from the start to the finish. You do that by lifting up on the rope and moving them down the lane. Any questions?"

The kids shook their heads.

"We're ready," the assistant said.

"Turtles," the penguin announced. "On your marks. Get set. Go!"

A flash of light flickered as Emeral's mom took a picture; and there would be many more after that.

Ket lifted his rope; his turtle raised into the air but didn't really move. He lowered it. The turtle moved about an inch, just by sheer floppy-force.

"Francis takes an early lead," the penguin announced.

Emeral was getting the hang of her turtle. Raise it up from the back, and then pull on the slack with her other hand to nudge the turtle along. At this point she was in second.

"Farnsworth seems to be catching up. Jeremy seems to be a little sluggish but he's picking up the pace. But Douglas seems to be asleep."

Ket bit his lip. This was harder than it looked. Come on, ya stupid turkle!

"Farnsworth takes first--no Franics--no Farnsworth, Douglas you'd better wake up, you don't know what you're missing!"

"C'mon Ket, move your turtle!" His mom shouted.

"It's harder than it looks!" He retorted.

"Just a foot left to go--it's going to be a close one."

"Go Emmy!"

"Go Justin!"

At this point, Ket dropped his rope. His turtle barely made it six inches. Third place was already three-quarters down the lane. He watched as Emeral's and Justin's turtles plopped along, Emeral very studiously following her methods, reaching out on the rope as far as she could to tug it just a little bit more...

"And the winner is.....Francis!"

"Man," Emeral huffed, dropping her rope.

Justin smiled, and reached out to shake her hand. She did so absent-mindedly, then realized what she did and thought it weird.

She followed Ket out of the crowd. "Mom can I have some sanitizer?"

"That was a little more fun than I expected," Momma R. said, while Emmy cleaned her hands.

"Had a bit of trouble, huh Ket?" Momma B. commented.

"That's what he gets for talking down about turkles."

"Careful Momma R., it's his turn now," Emmy said, wringing her hands out.

"Yup," Momma B. agreed. "What'll it be kiddo?"

"Need to find one," he commented.

The games were sure to have common top-prizes. He just needed to find one that was simple enough for him to do that had a stuffed bear as a top- or near-top prize. That was assuming he could find another one with a stuffed bear in it at all.

They walked for a few minutes, once again passing a few stand-alone shows as free entertainment. They were shortly mesmerized by a fire-dancer, twirling flaming batons about his body. A clown stood nearby with a fire extinguisher half-hidden behind him.

After they moved on, Ket spotted another game with a bear. "Let's try that one," he said, already moving over to it.

"What's your reason?" Emeral asked.

His step stuttered. "Huh?--What do you mean?"

"Why this game?" She asked, "That one looks more fun."

She pointed to a game where a teenager was using a laser gun to shoot at light-up targets.

"I just wanna play this one." He said.

"He's allowed to play what he wants," Momma B. stated.

Emeral squinted her eyes. She sensed something was up. If there was one thing she had learned about Arkethius, it was that he had a reason for doing everything. Not just 'this looks fun'; it was a reason.

"Step right up, don't be shy," the black cat with a top-hat said in a bit of a British accent. "My game is fun, just give it a try!"

"Another rhymer, huh?" Momma R. whispered.

Momma B. nodded, rolling her eyes.

"How does this work?" Ket asked.

"Hop on the stool and I'll show you," the cat instructed, reaching over the counter to turn the back of the stools for the kids.

They clambered up and turned around. Emeral wasn't quite expecting what she saw. The best way she could make sense of it, was that it was a big bowl with three volcanoes in the center: a low one, a medium one, and a high one. Just like the platforms from the first game, the low one had a wide neck, the medium one had a medium neck, and the tall one had a small neck.

"The game is simple," the cat explained, flicking his wrist. "You have a ball," he brandished it between his thumb and fore-finger. "The ball is bouncy," he said, bouncing it and catching it upon the table. "Bounce the ball into the bowl and get it to land on one of the towers."

He tossed the ball into the bowl. It bounced first off of the bottom, then off of the middle spire, then off of the edge, and landed on the very top cup.

"Win a prize for each landing. A better prize for landing higher. A dollar per try. Who wants to go first?"

"I'll try." Ket said.

His mom dropped a bill into the box. A gesture she was getting good at.

"Here you are," the cat said, retrieving the ball from the center, pulling it into his hand, and then rolling it from his fingers onto the tiger's open palm.

Ket didn't really see any strategy behind the game. But the cat had done it effortlessly. He assumed he could emulate the style. He tossed the ball in.

It bounced off the side, off the middle, off the side again, over the middle, and then began to swirl down into the bowl.

"So sorry. Try again?"

He nodded.

"I will show you the technique once more," the cat said. He let the ball drop. It bounced once off the bottom, again off the middle, again off the side, and nestled onto the top pillar. Again he retrieved the ball into his hand and rolled it onto Ket's palm.

Ket did a better job emulating the cat, he felt. He tossed the ball with his fore- index-finger and thumb, just as he had seen the cat do, and aimed for the bottom of the bowl. It bounced, then again off the center, then again off the side, and landed on the ce--no, it fell off.

"So close!" Emeral said.

"You're getting the hang of it. Try again?"

Another nod, another bill.

"I will show you the technique once more," the cat said. He let the ball drop. It bounced once off the bottom, again off the middle, again off the side, and nestled onto the top pillar. Again he retrieved the ball into his hand and rolled it onto Ket's palm.

The tiger was determined to get it this time. he emulated the cat perfectly, even going as far as to hit the exact spot the cat did, relative to him. It bounced from there, to the pillar, to the side of the bowl. But the bounce was a bit off, and it just barely hit the top of the pillar. It flew off and hit the side again, then rolled around the spire just a bit.

"Don't get flustered, now."

"I wanna try," Emeral stated.

"May the lady have a turn?" The cat asked the mothers. The white tigress handed the other mother a bill, which then fell into the box.

"I will show you the technique once more," the cat said. He let the ball drop. It bounced once off the bottom, again off the middle, again off the side, and nestled onto the top pillar. Again he retrieved the ball into his hand and rolled it onto Emeral's palm this time.

Emeral licked her lips. She wouldn't be drawn to the very top pillar. Something about the way the cat was acting was kind of strange. Wouldn't it be easier to just try and bounce it off the side? The medium pillar was closest to them, she could probably do it if she did it gently.

She just let it drop. It bounced off the side, and then almost magnetically fell into the medium cup.

"Ah, and that's not beginner's luck. I can see true skill behind that," the cat praised. "You may pick a prize from the second shelf."

"Hmm..." Emeral looked at the second shelf, just beneath the stuffed bear. The bear... Didn't the last game--?

"Can I try again while she picks?" Ket asked.

"Getting impatient, are we?" The cat questioned. "That will get in your way in this game."

"It's okay. Besides, I know what I want. I want the Nerf sword."

"Really?" The cat asked. "Are you sure?"

"Yup." Emeral said.

"Quite an interesting pick for such a young lady. But," he went to retrieve the box. "To the winner go the spoils."

"You still going to try, Ket?" His mom asked, a bill ready to be dropped.

"Yes, please," the tiger said.

The bill was dropped, and the cat retrieved the ball.

"I will show you the technique once more," the cat said. He let the ball drop. It bounced once off the bottom, again off the middle, again off the side, and nestled onto the top pillar. Again he retrieved the ball into his hand and rolled it onto Ket's palm.

Emeral noticed something weird about the way the cat always did that. Every time he took the ball into his hand, his hand was always closed. The top hat sort of reminded her of a magician, how they always pulled little animals out of them...

Ket breathed, focusing. The cat even stepped back a bit to lessen his distraction. He focused on the bowl, imagining where the ball would bounce, using empirical calculation. And then he realized, as his eyes traced different paths, just how impossible it was for the ball to be doing this. It didn't make sense. Every time the cat did it, it landed on the spire. Sure, he had gotten close, but it was hard to believe the cat could get it to work every time...

Emeral watched, breathing quietly, as Ket poised, almost frozen. She had seen this kind of concentration in him before, when he was trying to throw the ball into the Sphinx. That wrinkle on his forehead, the tell-tale sign that he was dead-focused on the task at hand.

And then, quite suddenly, the ball dropped. Tip-tip-tip, it sounded as it bounced off the bottom, middle and side. Emeral's eyes widened as it landed atop the spire, and rolled about the edge like a basketball rolls about the hoop.

And then, just like a basketball falls over the side, so did the ball.

Ket growled.

"So very close," the cat said, snapping his fingers. "I can feel it. Care to go once more?"

"Yes." Ket said with determination.

His mom dropped the bill into the box once more. "You're almost out of tries, kiddo," she warned.

"Really?" He asked. And then he realized; he'd forgotten to keep track of how much money he had been wasting.

The cat retrieved the ball.

"I will show you the technique once mo--"

"I don't need to see it just gimme the ball!" Ket snapped.

Emeral felt a familiar pang of fear as he did so.

His hand swiped out at the cat's, and caught the back of the cat's wrist.

The cat's fingers were forced open.

Emeral watched as two balls escaped the cat's grasp. One of them bounced willy-nilly, not at all making it to any of the cups. The other bounced off the side of the bowl, hit the side of the top of the spire, and then stuck there.

All five watched as the ball slowly crawled up the top of the spire and nestled into the cup.

"I'm sorry but this game is now closed. Be off." The cat picked up the balls, and walked away behind his booth.

Ket was visibly shaking, a look of surprise and terror on his face.

"Come on, let's go." Momma R. stated.

Emeral took Ket's hand as she slipped off the seat.

"I'll carry your prize, hun," her mom whispered.

She whispered back a thanks.

They walked silently for several minutes; a bubble of muteness surrounded by others laughing and playing, their glow-sticks and -wands wiggling back and forth in the patches of darkness the light did not quite cover.

Emeral glanced at Ket. He saw her do so and then pulled the bill of his hat down low.

This was bad. He knew. He'd lost his temper again. And this time there was no excuse. He couldn't blame it on his head; heck, it didn't even hurt anymore. He had just gotten frustrated. Grumpy. He was acting like a baby. He embarrassed everyone in front of that guy. His mom. Emmy's mom. Emeral.

He felt a thump against his shoe. His hand was jerked as Emeral stumbled just a bit. he glanced at her, for just a moment. Was that... a white kiss?

She squeezed.

"Well..." Momma B. said, breaking their quiet bubble; "Between the two of us, we have four bucks left."

"I'm sorry!" Ket blurted, letting go of Emeral's hand. "I'm sorry!"

"Ket?"

"Shh," his mom immediately dropped to one knee, and hugged her son. "C'mon, c'mon," she picked him up and they hurried over to a more discrete place, out of obvious sight.

He sat upon a picnic table, his mom next to him and the Brillians standing a little to the side, but still close enough to be involved. "I didn't mean to throw a tantrum," he explained. "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry."

"If you ask me, Ket," Momma B. spoke up, "that game was a bunch of B.S."

"Yeah," his mom agreed. "That guy was a total scam artist."

"Did you see the look on his face?" Mrs. Garne said with glee. "I bet that was the first time one of his victims actually found out about his little ploy."

Ket blinked, the verging tears in his eyes dammed by confusion. "...You guys...aren't mad?"

The moms shook their heads. "That guy deserved it," Momma B. stated.

Inside, Emeral let out a breath. She was worried they would be angry, too.

"But... I blew up..." Ket retorted.

"Who's side are you on?" His mom teased. "It's okay, honest." She stroked his shoulder. "Sure... I am a little worried about your attitude lately. But this time... you caught a lucky break. Your anger was justified."

Ket couldn't help the couple of tears that trickled down his face, but his mom was quick to wipe them.

In that moment of calm, a chime began to ring.

"Uh oh," Momma B. said, reaching into her purse. "It's a quarter to ten. The place closes pretty soon."

Emeral suddenly gasped. "Do we have time for one more ride?" She asked.

"What did you have in mind?"

Emeral could see it from here--she could even see the line. It was so small! "I wanna ride the Ferris wheel," she said. And then added, "If Ket'll ride with me."

Momma R. squeezed her son's shoulder. "You wanna ride the Ferris wheel with Emmy?"

"C'mon, Ket," Momma B. joined in, "Please?"

"We can't." He stated flatly. "I blew all our money on stupid games. We only have four dollars left and it'll cost six." He sighed, and looked up at Momma B. "I'm sorry I wasted it all Mrs. Garne."

"Kid, that's enough," his mom scolded. "We brought you here to have fun, not mope about everything. Besides, I'm paying Garne back, anyway." She adjusted his hat to reveal his yellow eyes, in need of a bit of polish. "Now stop worrying about money like an adult, and start having fun, like a kid."

"Yeah. I've got two leftover bucks I think I can spare." She pulled it out of her purse and handed it to Emmy. "Now you two go get on the Ferris wheel; we want to get some pictures of smiles. Got it?"

"Yes ma'am!" Emeral said enthusiastically. She took the wad of bills and darted over to Ket, grabbing his hand. "C'mon. We have to hurry or we might not make it. We don't have to run, just walk fast okay?"

Before he could register with his brain, his legs pushed him off to the ground. "I can run," his tongue said without permission.

"Are you sure?" She asked, their pace already at a fast-walk.

He nodded, and they took off.

The sprint was short, but intense. It did not hurt his head. Either he had gotten used to the pain, or he did a good job managing it. When they got to the Ferris wheel, the line was only three couples long. The couple in front of them were two beavers about Momma R.'s age.

The man wore a black suite, while the woman wore a light blue dress. Their clothes were far fancier than any other person's at the carnival, which struck Ket as a little odd. They stepped into their car.

Ket noticed that they didn't pay anything.

"Enjoy your ride, Mister Dillard." The bear hosting the attraction said.

"Henry, can I ask you a favor?" The beaver questioned.

"Sure, anything."

The two leaned in close for a moment as the beaver whispered something into his ear. The bear nodded. "Certainly," he said, waving his finger in a circle. "After the first pass."

With a smile, the beaver nodded as he and the woman were lifted into the air just a bit.

"Last seat for the night. Well hello there, where are your parents?"

"Over there," Emeral pointed. Their moms were not far away, positioned where they could take pictures. "We'd like to ride. It's six dollars right?"

"Sure! Hop on in little lady, let me help."

Emeral felt indeed like a little lady as the bear helped her into the car. He even helped her strap in.

"Is that snug enough?"

"Yes sir," she said.

He also helped Ket on, but was less dainty about it.

Once the last two were in the car, the bear spoke into a loudspeaker. "All right ladies and gentlemen of the Ferris wheel. Please remember to keep your hands and feet inside the car at all times, don't undo your seatbelts, and please enjoy the ride."

Ket felt the machine begin to rumble. Beside him, Emeral let out a quiet squeal of excitement. His hand was grasped, and he glanced over at her. The look that he received was nothing like he had seen in a while. There was something in her eyes that seemed to circle about in the shimmer of her gaze.

"Whatever's bothering you," she said, just barely above the noise of the wheel, "Let it go, okay?"

He blinked in response. He wasn't quite sure if she had even said anything; her lips barely moved. But she squeezed his hand, and the toe of her right foot gently pressed upon the toe of his left.

As the Ferris wheel inched upward, he realized that he didn't quite know what was bothering him. Maybe it was because he was trying really hard to tell her exactly how he felt, but he kept fudging up. She had said she understood, but how could she? Even he didn't really understand.

What was it about the beat in his chest that started to frustrate him? Why couldn't anything go his way like it used to? Everything was so simple before all this; he woke up, went to school, came home, did his homework, and slept. Rinse, lather, repeat.

He almost wished he could go back to that kind of system, but then a part of him knew that he would miss where he was now. It was confusing as heck; it had always been. Ever since she told him she liked him he had been playing a guessing game. He had been trying to figure out why she liked him, and even weirder why he liked her.

But he let all that go when he asked her on Christmas. When they decided to be a couple. Isn't that what they wanted, after all? To be together. To do all the things that boyfriends and girlfriends do?

Then why did they still fight so much? His mom and dad didn't start fighting like that until just before... the divorce. Wasn't he doing everything right? How could he know; he was still guessing. Emeral was confusing him, especially since they had gotten here.

Maybe this whole love thing wasn't as simple as he thought it was...

"I can see the whole place from here," Emeral spoke with a quiet awe.

"Yeah," Ket replied, and then he began to realize what he was seeing. They must have been a hundred feet in the air. The wind blew, whipping past his ears as they stuck out of his hat. The chill caught in his chest, and he looked directly downward.

And then he groaned. His hand tore from Emeral's and he latched onto the side of the car.