Something wicked this way comes…

       As a child growing up in a small town, I was often forced to use my imagination in order to keep myself entertained.  Small town life is about as boring as it seems in all of those boring movies like Hope Floats, Places in the Heart, or Forrest Gump.  You have any desire to go visit Greenbow, Alabama?  Yeah, I didn’t think so.

       Because of the slow pace and laid back atmosphere of my hometown, there was often little more to do than watch the trains speed by and dream of the big cities to which they may be traveling or the adventurous lives of the drunk hobos no doubt tucked away in the bellies of each boxcar.  Often I would imagine myself aboard these trains, riding the rails to whatever adventures may lay ahead.  Sometimes these flights of my imagination would help the slow summer days pass just a little faster. 

       Other times, I would wile away those long hours by secretly wishing one of the trains would derail, thundering into the solid earth in a fiery crash, each successive boxcar plowing into the next and  creating a folding nightmare not unlike a giant accordion folding in upon itself in a a twist of metal and fire.  I would usually take care to make sure none of the occupants were harmed in my fantasies, but often a few would get trapped in the burning wreckage so that I could imagine myself as the hero who rushed into the flames with fearless disregard for my own safety.  Most scenarios would find me rescuing a young blond starlet, who would be so grateful to me for saving her life that she would whisk me away to Hollywood to live the life of a fabulous celebrity with her as my wife.  Such were the dreams of a young boy who had never stepped foot outside the meager city limits of his small Texas hometown.

       It was on a long, slow, scorching summer day like this that a brief moment of real excitement would be injected into my otherwise lackluster life.  I had spent the day wandering the tracks to the north of town, daydreaming as usual about where the next train would take me.  On this day, my dreams became so vivid and thought-consuming that I lost track of both time and place, wandering outside the city limits of my town for the first time ever.  When I finally came back to reality and realized how far I had wandered, a brief surge of panic enveloped me, but it was quickly squelched by the realization that I only needed to follow the tracks back to the south in order to get back home.

       As I continued to walk north, I came upon a scene that stunned my child’s mind, so much so that I could do little more than stare with mouth agape at the unbelievable sight.  Stretching out in front of me was a carnival train, and its contents of roller coasters, Ferris wheels, dunking booths, and sideshow tents had all been set up, ready for business.  Above the entrance was a large painted sign that read “Professor Midnight’s Fantastic Phantasmic Carnival of Dreams.”  How had I not heard anything about a carnival?  Surely in a town as small as ours, the news of such an exciting development would have spread like wildfire from child to child.

       As I peeked in through the front gates, I noticed that there were no workers around, and the place was dead quiet save for the wind and the hypnotic carnival music piping out from the speakers mounted next to the sign.  “Where is everybody?” I wondered aloud. 

       After snooping around the front gate for a while and gazing longingly into the beckoning fun fair in front of me, I came to the conclusion that the workers must have gone into town for supplies and to spread the word of their arrival.  No doubt when I returned to town, I would find all of the lampposts and sides of buildings covered in colorful fliers proclaiming the arrival and opening of the grand carnival.  I couldn’t believe my luck that I had been the first to discover it.  I couldn’t wait to run back home and tell the neighboring children about the most amazing thing that had ever happened to our town in my lifetime.

       As I turned back to the railroad tracks to run back home, a thought entered my mind that gave me pause.  If all of the carnival workers were in town, who would know if I were to take a quick look around?  I could sneak in, explore the grounds, and map out the routes to the best rides and games for my arrival when the carnival opened later that night, and none would be the wiser.  However, if I were to be caught, there’s no telling what those carnies might do to punish me.  After several minutes of contemplation, I made the admittedly risky decision to sneak into the carnival to see what was in store for me later.  Little did I know that I would find out much more than I had bargained for.

       Breathing heavily and with my heart pounding, I laid my hand on the turnstile bar and pushed through into the fairgrounds.  The music continued to play through the speakers, but there was no other sound and no sign of activity except for the leaves blowing in the wind.  I walked up and down several rows of games and sideshow attractions.  To my delight and wonderment, I found a cotton candy machine that had already been turned on, and several paper cones had already had the delicious treat spun onto them and were ready to be eaten.  “No one would notice if I took just one,” I thought to myself.  Reaching out, I grabbed a cone of the pink sugary candy and began to eat it as I moved along past several rides. 

       My mind raced at the sight of the roller coaster, the merry-go-round, and the teacup ride.  As I pushed further towards the center of the fairgrounds, I could see the giant Ferris wheel looming above me.  Walking past one last tent that stood in my path, I was able to see the full length of the wheel in front of me, and its uppermost heights seemed to my young mind to stretch all the way up to the clouds.  I followed the wheel down to its bottom, counting each passenger gondola on the way down.  When I reached the bottom of the wheel, I noticed to my horror a man in a top hat staring right at me, his tattooed arms folded over his chest and his icy eyes fixed on mine.  My heart stopped, and despite the fact that my mind was imploring me to run away, my feet were frozen in place. 

       “You there!” the man called out.  “Come here, boy!”

       My urge to flee was absolutely overwhelming, but I knew that I would just end up getting caught and be in even more trouble, so I reluctantly walked toward the man in the top hat.

       As I drew closer, he looked at me sternly and said, “You’re a little early, aren’t you, boy?  We don’t open for another several hours yet.”

       My throat was parched, my mouth sticky, but I managed to croak out a response.  “Y-yes, sir.  I’m sorry, I was just wandering by and wanted to have a look around.  I didn’t touch anything.”

       The man regarded me for a moment, then cracked a wicked smile.  “We both know that’s not true, now don’t we, son?” he said, as he nodded toward the more than half eaten cone of cotton candy in my right hand.

       “Oh, I’m sorry, sir.  I was going to pay for that.  How much is it?”

       The man’s smile turned slightly warmer.  “Don’t bother with that, boy.  Consider it a gift to the first patron of Professor Midnight’s Fantastic Phantasmic Carnival of Dreams!” 

       He began laughing loudly, and his laughter relaxed me a bit, although I was not quite comfortable around this man.  His dark hair curled out from underneath his top hat, the same dark, black color as his thick eyebrows, pointed goatee, and waxed mustache, but not nearly as dark and deep as his piercing eyes.  He wore a topcoat with tails, but the arms of the jacket had oddly been cut off at the shoulders, his now sleeveless garment revealing his heavily tattooed biceps and forearms.

       “Welcome to my carnival, my boy.  Allow me to introduce myself.  I am Professor Midnight, the owner and proprietor of the greatest and most magical carnival to ever grace this part of the country.  Tell me, how old are you, young man?”

       “I’m ten years old,” I answered.  “Just turned ten last week.” 

       The professor’s eyes narrowed as he spoke.  “Ahh!  Ten years old.  A magical age, to be certain!  And tell me, son, what do you think the future holds for you?”

       I nervously kicked at the dirt beneath my feet and scratched my left forearm.  “I don’t know.  Maybe I’d like to be a fireman or something like that.  Seems like it would be kind of exciting.”

       Professor Midnight again erupted in deep, uproarious laughter.  “Ha ha ha!  No, no, my boy!  That doesn’t suit you at all.  No, I think a boy with your courage, sense of adventure, and curious young mind will live a much more intriguing life than that of a fireman.  But there is one way to find out!”

       “What do you mean?” I asked, feeling more and more uncomfortable as the conversation progressed.

       “What would you say, young one,” he said with a wink, ”if I were to tell you that for a mere 25¢, I could show you the future?”

       I laughed nervously.  “Well, I’d probably say that you’re making up stories.  There was a traveling fortune teller that came through town last year, and she basically just made a bunch of junk up.  Nobody’s fortune came true.”

       Professor Midnight frowned and waved his hand in the air as if to swat away my words.  “Young man, I am not speaking of fraudulent fortune tellers or amateur card readers.  What I speak of is true magic.  I will not tell you your future.  I will show it to you!  This Ferris wheel is a creation of my own hand.  Using secrets passed down through my family for generations, I have crafted a machine that, when ridden, will give you a window twenty years into the future to the day!  You say you just turned ten last week, my boy?  How would you like to see yourself after you’ve just turned thirty?”

       I considered Professor Midnight’s proposal.  Always the skeptic, I had a strong feeling that this man was putting me on, but my child’s mind could not ignore this provocative idea.

       “What if it doesn’t work?” I asked.  “Will you give me my quarter back?”

       Professor Midnight smiled warmly, his black eyes twinkling in the Ferris wheel lights.  “My boy, you have my word!”

       I reached into my pocket and pulled out a shiny quarter my father had given me the previous day for mowing the yard.  I remember at the time thinking how cheap my dad was for only giving me a quarter for all that work, but now, if the professor’s words were true, that small quarter would buy me more than I ever could have dreamed.

       I placed the quarter into Professor Midnight’s outstretched palm, which he then flicked into the air and caught in the breast pocket of his topcoat.  An impressive move from a seasoned professional.  He held open the small metal gate for me, then led me to the gondola platform.  Opening the door to the gondola, he beckoned me forward with a wave and watched as I sat down.

       “My boy, are you certain that you want to do this?” the professor asked.  “I must warn you, there is always the danger that you might not like what you see.”

       I was a bit nervous, but my brief second thoughts were no match for my overpowering sense of curiosity.  “I’m not scared.  Show me the future!”

       “That’s my boy!”  the professor said with a laugh.  “Well, young sir, strap yourself in.  You’re about to take the ride of your life!”

       The professor walked quickly across the platform to the control booth and began to turn knobs and flip switches.  The huge wheel began to hum, and the gondola creaked in the wind in anticipation of motion.  Slowly, at first, the wheel began to turn, the carnival music’s tempo dragging deliberately with the steadily increasing pace of the rising gondola.  As I reached the apex, the wheel came to a stop, and I was able to see the town to the south.  “How small it looks from this great height!” I thought.  After about two minutes at the top, the wheel began to move again.  As I began my first descent, I felt that the ride was already worth the quarter admission, and I could get off now and be happy. 

       I came around to the bottom again, and my eyes met with Professor Midnight on the platform, that same wicked smile on his face, as I began to ascend again.  Higher I went, the wheel turning faster and faster, the pace of the music speeding up in time with the huge wheel.  The wheel continued to turn with increasing speed, faster still until one revolution had turned to three, three to eight, and eight to fifteen in the blink of an eye.  The music screamed as its fast tempo made it completely unrecognizable.  A sick feeling rose in my stomach as sparks and white flashes of light began to shoot off all around me.  And the whole time, no matter how loud the rush of wind or squeal of the music, I heard Professor Midnight’s mad laughter from the platform below.

       Then, all at once, a white light enveloped the entirety of the car, and the sound of wind and music receded into the background.  A calm came over the whole car, and right before my eyes, I began to see visions similar to watching a movie on a screen.  In these visions, I saw a man, looking not unlike a younger, thinner, more muscular version of my father, dressed in fine Italian suits and driving an expensive and futuristic looking sports car with a stunningly beautiful woman in the front seat.  The man threw money around like it was just cheap paper, and no matter where he went, he was always accompanied by a different, yet equally beautiful, woman.  The visions further revealed that this man was a Hollywood star, the most successful and powerful star the entertainment business has ever seen.  He wrote, produced, directed, and starred in all of his own movies, and each film became a larger box office smash than the one before it.  Even in the face of all of the media scrutiny and paparazzi stalking that he encountered on a daily basis, the man seemed truly content and happy with his place in life, as if this was where he was always meant to be. 

       With all the visions racing by and all the glamour to take in, it took me a while to realize exactly what I was looking at.  “This is me!” I thought with excitement.  “This is what my life will be like exactly twenty years from now!  My god, a ten year old kid from a tiny nowhere town in Texas is going to end up the biggest star this world has ever known!”

       While this realization was still setting in, the visions in front of me slowly began to dissipate, the white light and sparks giving way to the quickly spinning view of my surroundings once again.  The wheel began to gradually slow in speed, the music’s tempo slowing in time with the wheel, until eventually the giant machine came to a complete stop at the platform below.  The professor opened the door to the gondola, and I rushed out, streaking past him and down the platform towards the front gate.  I heard him call behind me, “Another satisfied customer!” as his deep, maniacal laughter followed me through the turnstile, along the railroad tracks to the south, through the town square, all the way to my front door. 

       I burst in through the front door, past my parents who were sitting in the living room watching television, straight back to my bedroom.  I closed the door behind me and replayed the visions in my mind.  A huge smile spread across my face.  I sat in bed all night, sleepless with excitement and anticipation at what my life would become.  Each successive night has been much the same.

       It is only now, twenty years later to the day, that I can fully appreciate the magical powers of Professor Midnight and his magical machine.  Here I am, at thirty years old one of the richest, most powerful, and most successful stars the world has ever…

       Heeeey, wait a minute…  My life sucks!  I’m not a rich famous movie star!  I’m still bagging groceries for $7.50 an hour at the same small town Piggly Wiggly market I’ve been working at since I dropped out of high school!  What the hell?  That lying scam artist Professor Midnight owes me a quarter!  Dammit!