Part Forty (May 4, 1972)

It took a few minutes to sidestep all of the debris, but we eventually reached the other side. When we arrived, we were bewildered.

Everything was distorted. The rides were twisted into odd shapes, and several buildings were floating. Parts of the ground were lifted above others, and there were several large chasms. A nearby stream was pushed upward, into vertical columns.

The distortion wasn't even the strangest element. In certain areas, the ground was covered with bizarre symbols. They appeared to be burned into the dirt, but the lines were too perfect and complex to have been created by any generic person with a matchstick.

Tommy kneeled onto the ground, investigating the symbols. However, once he made physical contact with the engravings, his arm burst into flames. In panic, he lept up. Once he had vacated the marked area of the ground, he was instantly healed, as if he had never been injured. "What… is this place?" He asked, fearfully.

"I call it a 'pocket world'." A voice called out, "When the Beast makes repeated contact in an area,  the landscape can begin to change form."

"Who are you?" Tommy asked.

Before the man even had a chance to reply, Charlie called out, "Bruce!" Apparently, this was the friend of Professor John.

"Hello." Bruce said, "You're that boy that I met. John told me that you had sought him out."

"Yes, I'm Charlie. And these are my friends."

We all introduced ourselves, and we followed Bruce to a small building that he'd been staying in. "I use this place for research". He said.

"No Kidding…" I responded, staring at the plethora of notes and documents that were strewn across the walls. After quickly analyzing some of them, I noticed that a percentage of them were newspaper articles, many of which were about the disappearance at the carnival.

I gazed at the man, in shock, and said, "You're the father of that missing boy."

Part Thirty-Nine (May 4, 1972)

The four of us marched into the old amusement park, unsure of what we were to find. Even Jeremy didn't know. But, apparently, he knew where to look. While I still didn't truly trust him, he had warmed up to the group, even over the last few hours. So, we were somewhat inclined to follow him.

He dragged us through a labyrinth of old roller coasters and Ferris wheels, before arriving at his destination. When he had done so, we glared at him.

"This is what we were supposed to see?" Charlie asked, looking at a giant pile of rubble and crumbled fairground rides, which stood against a rocky cliff.

"No." Jeremy replied, "You're supposed to see whatever's on the other side. This carnival's only been closed for about twenty years. Rides usually don't collapse that quickly. Look at the rest of the fairground; it's still relatively intact. What does that tell you?"

I thought about this, and said, "This junk is here for a purpose."

Jeremy nodded. "There's a cave, behind the junk. I think that it once led to the other part of the park, but it's hard to get through, with all of the stuff in the way."

Tommy paced around, looking for a way in. Within minutes, he found one. "Look," he said, "Someone cleared a path. We're not the only ones who want to see this thing."

We were about to go through, when Jeremy stopped. "What's wrong, Charlie asked. Are you scared?"

"Kinda…" Jeremy admitted, "If somebody took the time to block this off, I'm not sure if we should be going in there."

I thought that he had a valid point, but that didn't matter. We had to go through, so I said nothing. So, after some convincing, which mostly consisted of Charlie making disparaging remarks about his manhood, Jeremy agreed to enter.

Part Thirty-Eight (May 4, 1972)

"To the carnival!", I shouted, in my best imitation of an English accent, once we had walked out the door. The quality of the imitation was poor, of course, but no one minded.

"Right-o, old chap!" Charlie returned, with an even hammier accent. Naturally, I felt inclined to point this out.

"Dude," I said, "I'm pretty sure that English people don't talk like that."

"Oh, yeah?" Charlie challenged, "Hey, Tom. Whose accent was better?"

"I think that you already know the answer to that question, Charlie." Tommy snickered.

Charlie squinted. "Go to Hell." He said.

Tommy smiled. "I can't." He confessed, "I've already been there."

At this point, Jeremy cut in. "Guys," He said, "Quit with the accents. And don't use your traumatic experiences against other people, Tommy. It's screwed up."

"I apologize for using such dark humor as a comeback. But he deserved it." Tommy said, in a surprisingly subtle accent. On that note, Charlie punched him in the shoulder, and pulled out my magazine.

Tommy looked over at it, and grinned. I did the same. For the next several minutes, we passed the porn back and forth, pointing out women that we thought we especially attractive. Then, Jeremy chose to comment on it.

"You know, this is kind of pointless." He said, "None of us are ever going to get girls like that."

Charlie turned to face him, and said, "A boy can dream, right?"

"Could you just do us all a favor?" Jeremy replied, "'Dream' in the woods. We'll wait for you."

"Oh, shut up." Charlie said, putting the magazine back in his bag. To replace it, he took out his baseball, proceeding to toss it in the air. Following suit, I began playing with a yo-yo.

This lasted for about five minutes, until Jeremy spoke. "Put away your toys, lads." He said, "We're here."

Part Thirty-Seven (May 4, 1972)

After school, we converged at my house, in preparation for our journey. It took quite a bit of convincing, to get my parents to accept yet another house guest. But, when I told them that we going to go exploring, and that we'd only be in the house for dinner and sleep, they eventually agreed. They expressed disdain over my frequent excursions, but they seemed to enjoy the fact that I was being so social. As long as we returned before five, and helped with the housework, they'd be okay with it. They were becoming progressively less strict, for some reason. They did have one more request, however. Next time, I'd have to spend the night at Charlie's.

We walked to my room, gathering all that we might need for our trip. This mostly amounted to food entertainment items, as we didn't expect to be gone for long. Once our backpacks were stuffed, I turned to Charlie, and I asked, "So, have you chosen wisely?"

"Oh, yeah." He said, "This should last me for a while." He grinned, pulling out the best magazine of the bunch, and I nodded in approval.

Jeremy dropped his jaw. "Whoa, you have porn?" He exclaimed.

"Yep." I said, "Look under the bed." Jeremy did so, seeing a large, cardboard box of sensual pleasure. Beside it was another box, which was duct-taped shut.

"What's this box?" The boy asked, pointing to the other container. "Is it more porn?"

"No!" I screamed, "Don't touch that one!" With that, I frantically kicked it farther back.

Jeremy looked confused. "What's worse than porn?" He asked.

"It doesn't matter." I said, "Just don't touch it." Jeremy furrowed his brows. Tommy put his arm around me, assuming this to be a coping mechanism. Charlie merely shrugged, however. Apparently, he was getting used to my strange behavior. He knew not to ask questions.

Part Thirty-Six (May 4, 1972)

At that point, the three of us leaned in, privately conversing. When we had finished, I told Jeremy our verdict. "Okay," I decided, "But, if you cross us, you're out."

Jeremy smiled. "Thank you." He said, "I hope that you will come to see me as an asset, rather than an inconvenience."

"So do we," Charlie mumbled. Jeremy could hear him, but he acted as if he could not. I scowled at my friend, only to be answered with a shrug.

We continued eating. For several minutes, no one spoke. We were all attempting to process the fact that we were now forced to work with those with whom we normally did not associate. It was a somewhat bizarre situation, and the majority of us questioned Jeremy's motives. I wasn't quite sure that he even knew what he wanted. Yet, there he was, and there we were; none of us could change that, even if we wanted to. He claimed to have something to offer, and we had no choice but to believe him, for he seemed to be sincere. Time would determine the nature of his character; we were not fit to judge such things. We were children, after all. And, much like adults, children often find their loyalties tested. The only difference is age.  Therefore, regardless of our personal feelings on the matter, that table now housed a group of four.

Part Thirty-Five (May 4, 1972)

After the awkwardness had subsided, we went to school. When it hit lunchtime, we ran into Jeremy Maxwell. He had been directly behind us in line, and he had chosen to sit at our table.

"What do you want?" Charlie challenged.

Jeremy donned an expression of bewilderment. "Whoa." He said, "I come in peace. Can't a kid just sit at a table?"

I pondered on this. "Yes," I said, "I suppose that you can. Let's all hear what you have to say."

"Thank you." He said, "You're reasonable." I nodded, and he continued. "I've been hearing you three talk, for the last couple of days. Usually , I'll hear mundane things, like about homework. But, occasionally, I'll catch things about an abandoned carnival. If I'm thinking of the right carnivsl, then I think that I could be useful to you."

"Disregarding your eaves-dropping, what could you do for us?" I asked.

Jeremy smirked, locking his underlined eyes on my face. "I've been there." He established, "I live close to the place, so I'll sometimes explore it. I know that there's something there, and I know where to look."

Tonmmy eyed him skeptically. "Have you seen it?" He asked.

"No." Jeremy clarified, "But I know where it's at."

Part Thirty-Four (May 4, 1972)

I woke up, preparing to go to school. My friends had spent the night. Predictably, Charlie was already awake, thumbing through my magazines. I chuckled, waking Tommy. "Getting an early start?" I asked.

Charlie smiled. "I need to do something to entertain myself, don't I? It's being, when you two are asleep. Besides, I need time to pick the perfect provision for our journey."

Tommy rubbed his eyes. "By the way, Lyle." He commented, "How did you get so many dirty magazines? You're ten."

I gave him a very grim expression, and I said, "There are things which you must never know." With that, he shut up.