A Carnie

Tyler Nguyen helps the local carnival put up their promotional signs. and he remembers.

-

The fair came into town every year, and with it, her. She is the changing of the seasons according to Tyler, she is the impossible, the unfathomable, the unattainable, the Carnival girl.

"She's stupid" said Roger, one of Tyler's friends, "and above all she's a Carnie man, those people are nuts," Roger finished before zipping up his backpack.

Tyler didn't care. He didn't think she was stupid at all. So she didn't know Pythagorean's theorum, so she didn't understand what a past participle was. Who did? She was spectacular, and amazing, and anyone that didn't see that was the crazy one.

They met on the first eve of Summer three years ago, when the fair first comes into town and nothing is really all the way set up. "Help me put up this sign random stranger" She was standing outside of the fairgrounds with blue duct tape and a sign displaying a promotion about cans of Coke and free entrance.

Tyler glanced at her, past the overalls and t-shirt was the first woman he fell in love with. He didn't believe in love at first sight, but infatuation at first sight was another thing entirely. He helped her put up the sign, because that's what you do if you're infatuated with a girl, you help her put up a sign.

"What's your name random stranger?" She asked

"Tyler." He said, "What's yours"

"Daisy Callum, Carnie extraordinaire" She said, smiled and climbed over the fence in a few swift motions.

"Carnie extraordinaire, huh?" He said to himself a little bit after she was already out of ear shot. He was sure Carnie was meant by others as a derogatory term, one meant to evoke a sense of tilted sanity and loose morals. But she took it and ran.

Tyler spent every night for a month and a half that summer at the fair. If Daisy knew what he was up to, she didn't make fun of him for it. "Here to win me a prize?" She'd ask, "No," He'd always answer. In his head he would add, you're the prize.

Over time she showed him the tricks of the trade. How some games were impossible and others were simple. She could make more hoops than their starting point guard, but pointed out that even the best ring tosser in the world had no shot at getting it around those dang milk jugs. She also explained that rides are cool and all, but the fair makes most of the money from those games because how much does a giant teddy bear actually cost anyway.

At first it was a simple crush. The more he watered it though, the more it grew into a blossoming friendship. One unencumbered by romance or fancy nights out, because she always had to work late. It was paired with long walks through the messy fairgrounds, cotton candy, and Coke.

They never talked about their 'relationship' if you could call it that. Throughout the year Tyler would say he was single, and it was during a time that social media hadn't corrupted every relationship with a false sense of security, so he didn't even see Daisy. The thought that she would ever have a boyfriend was beyond Tyler's brain, and to Daisy- Well, he was just Tyler. It was in that simple notion that time passed and senior year was thrust upon them with hormones in spades.

Still though, if Tyler was anything he was careful. "You going to college?" He asked one of the first nights of the fair.

"Not smart enough for that Tyler, come on. I'm gonna run the mirror house for a few years, and then on the dragon roller coaster, after that I'm not sure" She had a few new tattoos from different states that Tyler enjoyed looking at.

"Oh." Was all he could muster.

"You?" She asked.

"Yeah, I got accepted to UCF, I'll be starting there in August" he said. He knew the route, the fair doesn't really do big cities, he might still travel to this small town to see her, but he even doubted it as he thought it.

"Huh" was all she could muster.

They were both trapped in different worlds. He couldn't figure out how to cross that wide distance of infinity to be with her either. It's not like they ever talked about it, it's not as if he could drop everything and move into the carnival life. He thought, because then I'd be a Carnie.

It was that realization that tore him up, what was beautiful in her, was cancerous to him.

She didn't like to see Tyler so down, but in four weeks she would be four hundred miles away. Besides no man, no human was worth freedom. No college campus with decorated brochures and green lawns could compete with Arizona fresh air, with Montana summer, and with the sweet smell of North Carolina all in one season. It's not like she could drop into a life of normal monotony and just, exist. She thought, because then I'd be a Normie.

Tyler read about the shooting in the news two years later, his Sophomore year of college at UCF. It made national news, and plastered on the front of his t.v. screen was a picture of a girl he recognized all too well, still wearing overalls and a white t-shirt.

She could never have been accused of being a coward. She didn't have time for all that, because a little girl was in a line of fire, and Daisy Callum, Carnie Extraordinaire would not let that specific tragedy occur.

The news wouldn't capture that heroism, it wouldn't really spend more than a few moments detailing the deaths. Fourteen in all. Among them were ten visitors and four Carnies. The news station actually used that word. The little girl wasn't among the deceased.

Tyler remembered her often throughout the years. Remembered her grace in climbing over a fence, her thoughtfulness in explaining different tricks and trades. He remembered a free spirit, and smiled. He graduated top of his class in Business administration.

This isn't a story where he goes on to buy a circus or a fair, or a carnival. This isn't a story where he regrets going to college or staying rooted in a plain life, because to him, it isn't plain at all.

It's a story of a man who visits the carnival every year - and helps to put up their promotional signs. Because that's just what you do if you like a girl. You help them put up signs.