A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

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Chapter 12 -- Bog Bottom

It took me a while to figure out where we were heading. I'd lived in Bayonet for almost a decade, but I'd grown up further north, closer to Alexandria. Brian, on the other hand, had lived his entire life relatively local, and knew the back streets and little side roads like the back of his hand. He was avoiding the worst of them since we were in my car rather than his truck, but it was still an adventure of unnamed places that hadn't seen a re-pave in decades.

Me? It took me two months before I could make it from the studio to our apartment without my GPS on.

I didn't dare say anything about my confusion, not after Thursday, but I still felt myself relax when I started to recognize some of the roads we were on, even if I couldn't place where we were heading.

Then I saw the sign, and Brian hit his turn signal.

"No way," I said, laughing. I turned to look at Brian, and all he did was give me a wink. "Bog Bottom? Really?"

"Really," he said. "They don't officially re-open 'til next summer, but they're doing some test days, and one of my friends at work offered me a couple tickets a while back. I'd planned on seeing if you wanted to check it out after the convention was over, but thought you could use the escape, so." He shrugged and actually blushed a little.

I couldn't help but bounce in my seat a bit, excited. "Are you kidding? This is great!" I said, my face starting to hurt from how wide my smile was.

Bog Bottom!

As a kid I'd heard of the place, but my family always went to either Texas or Arkansas for our vacations, so I'd never been there. When I came down to Bayonet for college, it was on my To Do list, but I was bound for disappointment, finding out when I moved onto campus that the park had shut down a couple of years earlier due to the cost of maintenance being too high for the owners to keep up with. It was a shame: all the locals had nothing but good things to say about the place.

I'd heard a couple of years ago that someone had bought it and was planning on re-opening it, but nothing since.

Brian pulled onto another side road, this one much better cared for than some of the others we'd passed, and as the gates to the park emerged from the trees ahead of us, I couldn't help another happy bounce.

We pulled up to the gates, and a rather bored-looking security guard came forward, leaning down to look in Brian's window. "Sorry, folks. The park isn't open yet. Staff and special guests only."

"We're special guests," Brian said, pulling a thin envelope out of his pocket and handing it to the guard.

The guard opened the envelope, scanned its contents, and grinned. "Oh, you're Mister Venable then? And guest?" He looked across the car at me, and his grin grew wider. "Welcome to Bog Bottom, and thanks for helping us test the place out! Things are still rough around the edges, so you'll need this," he said, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a brochure he handed to Brian. "There's a map in there, updated this morning to show what rides and shops are up and what isn't. Park in the area highlighted in pink; the rest of the lot is reserved for work crews and materials still."

"Thanks. Don't get too hot out here," Brian said, glancing at the map.

The guard laughed. "Hey, new owners put A/C in the entrance hut. I'm good."

Brian laughed too, and we waved to the guard as we passed on through.

Even without the map, finding the section of the parking lot cordoned for guests would have been easy: it was the only part of the lot that was clear of debris and work vehicles. Instead, it had some thirty or forty miscellaneous vehicles parked in it, from family-sized SUVs to fancy sports cars and everything in between. I wondered for just a moment how many of the cars were 'special guests' like us and how many were the folks who would be working the rides and stores, but I didn't have long to think about it before Brian found a spot of our own and parked us.

My belt was off almost before the engine, and I was out the door with my bag on the hood of my car almost as quickly. Brian wasn't far behind me for speed, and while I double-checked the contents of my bag and applied some sunscreen, he laid the pamphlet out on the hood across from me, looking at the map.

"Looks like we'll have access to about two-thirds of the park," he said. "They don't have Bandit up yet," Bandit being the big steel coaster that so many commercials had featured back in the day, "but Smokey is ready for test runs between noon and three, along with some of the other rides, and they're opening some of the water park stuff after, looks like they'll let that run 'til they close up at five." He checked his watch and smiled. "It's only ten thirty. We made better time than I expected, so."

Happy with my double-check of our bag, I walked around the hood and joined him studying the map. "What's open this morning, then?" I asked, leaning in close to get a better look.

"Hmm. Looks like the go-kart track is available all day. Fright Manor is open, too: I heard they've torn down the original and built an all-new ride-along version, so that might be fun. And they've got most of the Bog Bottom Village businesses showing as open too."

"What's that?" I asked, looking at the solid quarter of the park's footprint straight down the middle that was color-coded as part of the village.

"It's sort of an old-timey crafts and... tell ya what, why don't we start there?" He asked me. "It's open all day, but we can check some stuff out, and if you see anything you like, we can stop back by and get it before we leave. Stretch a bit before doing any rides."

"Sounds like a plan!" I said, stepping back and clapping my hands together. "I'm gonna buy one of those big bear statues carved out of a log and make you carry it."

"Or you could carry it and I could take the bag of stuff," he said as he folded the map and slipped it into his pocket.

"Nope! My bag, my stuff. And I'll be carrying all the candles and crap anyway. My hands will be far too full to carry the bears."

"Oh, it's *bears* now?"

"Well, you can't have just one," I explained to him as we headed toward the second set of gates, these person-sized. "You need one for each side of the door. Like gargoyles."

"Mm-hmm," he said, clearly not buying it. "I don't think the super would let you keep those out on the landing."

"Hmmm," I said, pretending to think about it. "Maybe you're right. Hold off on the bears for now."

"Thank god," Brian said, sounding legitimately relieved, which set off my own laughter as we reached the second gate. Another guard stood here, but instead of checking us for tickets or anything just waved us on through, I guess assuming that if we made it past the first gate, we were good.

Anyone who's ever visited an amusement park knows that special feeling you get when you cross the threshold between the real world and the park grounds. It's an odd sense of passage, marked by a change in the texture of the sounds and smells like they're so much more on one side of the wall or fence than on the other.

Even in the heat, I felt a little chill as we stepped out onto the brick path beyond the gate and shivered.

Brian seemed to feel the excitement too, and I'd swear I felt an electric spark pass between us when he placed his hand in the middle of my upper back and just stood next to me, taking things in.

Despite its name, Bog Bottom was nothing close to an actual bog. The entrance of the park sat at the top of a long incline, with the pathways making a sort of long, narrow oval as they stair-stepped down and down. The result was a kind of large, cobbled courtyard, with old-timey-looking buildings crowding along its edges punctuated by additional pathways leading to the park's various sub-sections, narrower than the central loop but themselves still broad enough for parade floats and service vehicles. Tall trees filled in the space behind the buildings, giving the impression of the forest closing in, but the gleaming steel of the rides beyond jutted out of the treescape, breaking the illusion.

In the middle of the long oval was a large, raised dais, at least forty feet in diameter. I knew from the commercials I'd seen as a kid that the dais had at one time had a set of hangman's stocks along one edge, used as part of some of the shows that would be put on for visitors, but those hadn't been used since the 80s, and it seemed the new owners had made a point of removing them. At the far end of the oval, at the very bottom of the slope, was a long pier with a tall guard rail, bordering on one of the local rivers. Even after the park's closure, the pier had seen a lot of use, since Bayonet had leased it from the owners of the park every year as the launching point of the city's own fireworks show. I imagined the city was more than happy to let the owners take over the expense for that!

My eyes must have been a mile wide because Brian took one look at my face and laughed. "Yeah, it's pretty neat," he said, moving his arm to around my shoulders and gesturing around the park. "The coasters are both to the left, down that first path. Then just down from there is the go-karts, and the last path on that side leads to the water park rides."

He shifted to my other side, swapping arms, and continued to point. "Over here, you have the kiddie rides first, then the mansion and a few of the other more carnival-type things, and then down near the shore, they've got another, longer boardwalk out of sight behind the buildings, with more of the games and amusement stuff. At least, that's how it used to be," he said, frowning just a bit and pulling out his map.

It really did look fantastic, though the overall effect was marred a bit by its clearly unfinished state. Several of the "old-timey" buildings' illusions were broken by half-assembled facades and construction equipment sitting in the middle of the paths in front of them, ropes and tape directing us away from getting too close, and temporary barriers stood in front of the paths Brian had mentioned leading to the coasters, water park, and amusement games.

And so few people! What shops weren't under renovation had friendly folks milling about in front, and from our vantage, I could see a few small groups of people, mostly in threes and fours, exploring, kids laughing, adults smiling. But it was almost eerily quiet: no music over the loudspeakers, some of which were still sitting on the ground, ready to be mounted. No announcements. No constant low roar of thousands of people in proximity.

"It's like visiting a ghost town," I said without thinking, once again getting a chuckle from Brian.

"A bit, yeah. But hey: no waiting in line for anything!"

"True!" I said, laughing too. Then something caught my eye. "Oooh, how about we start there?"

"You lead the way," Brian agreed, and I grinned excitedly as I led him toward our destination.

That was how we spent our first forty minutes or so in the park: walking from little shop to little shop, checking out what they had for sale. It was mostly what you would expect: cheap souvenirs, with or without the Bog Bottom name plastered across them, 'old time' craftworks that almost all had stickers on the bottom proclaiming their Chinese origins, and things like that. In between those, you had the businesses that tried to show the old ways of doing things, and were halfway between stores and shows, with hands-on crafts for things like candle-making, an old printing press where you could use the blocks to create your own stationery and even a blacksmith's furnace.

The buildings that were still seeing maintenance were almost universally the restaurants that would normally populate the square, but there was a funnel cake stand open, and another selling hot dogs, soft pretzels, and soft drinks, so we weren't completely reliant on the bottles of water we'd probably broken rules by bringing in.

We looked, but I didn't buy anything, not yet. We had hours to go in the park, and the last thing I wanted was to walk around all day toting things I could have picked up right before time to leave.

Once we had checked out all the little shops, it was time for some rides.

"Go-karts?" Brian asked, a bit too casually.

"Hmmm," I said, remembering the last time I'd gone go-karting with him. I tapped my lips with my finger as I thought. "How about we save the go-karts for last and use them to dry off after we check out the water park rides."

"You just want to tire me out first," he accused, his eyes twinkling.

"Yes," I agreed without hesitation. "Last time we did go-karts, you pit maneuvered me."

"You were in my way."

"I was a lap behind you!"

"And in my way," he said again.

"I... you...." I was trying to stay mad, but I was failing. He wasn't helping either, giving me his best look of faux innocence.

"Don't smile."

"Shut up!" I said, my composure finally cracking as I began laughing. "S'not funny!"

"Well, then I guess we can save go-karts for last," he agreed. "But."

"But?" I asked, wiping a couple tears from my eyes as my giggle-fit faded.

"But only if you make me a promise."

"Oh? And what's that?" I asked, doing my best to sound confident despite still wanting to crack up.

"Ya gotta promise that if I win...."

"What?!" I asked, anxiously.

Brian grinned. "I'll tell ya after."

"That's not--"

"Promise?"

"Brian!" I whined, to no avail, as he just stood there, arms crossed and with that confident smirk he always got when he was planning something nefarious.

"Go-karts last," he finally said, giving me a Look. "We've still got a while before the coaster opens, so, Fright Manor and some carnival games, or check out the other rides first?"

"Regular rides first," I said, still not sure if I'd won on the go-kart argument or not. "Then the coaster should be open, and we can do the haunted house and the carnival stuff after until the water rides open?"

"Deal." Once again, he put his arm around my shoulder, and we began walking back toward the top of the courtyard, side by side.

I looked around, seeing the occasional couple or family doing their own thing too. The paths leading to the rides and amusements certainly seemed busier than the courtyard itself, but given how few of us there were in the park, that wasn't much of a surprise.

Then I looked up at Brian. Catching my gaze, he smiled and gave me a little squeeze, and I found myself smiling back even as I wondered just what the hell we were doing.

Growing up, my family was always very touch-ey. Hugs were given multiple times a day, foreheads were kissed, backs and shoulders were rubbed. Brian seemed to have had the same kind of upbringing, and as our friendship had cemented,we'd long gotten over any sense of awkwardness over touching each other’s arms, or hugging, or anything else.

But when had that changed into this, I wondered, even as I chose not to object to being tucked into Brian's side as we walked despite the heat.

I'd noticed it when we were out on Thursday, but I didn't think that was the first of it, just like it wasn't the first-time people had assumed we were together as more than just friends: it was just the first time in a long time I'd given any thought to it.

I thought about what we must look like, and truth be told if I'd seen two people walking together like we were, 'just friends' probably wouldn't have been my assumption either.

So, why wasn't I pulling away?

I looked around myself again and sighed. It was damn hot, but there was a breeze coming off the river, bringing with it the smell of the water, and a hint of the funnel cake vendor's wares. I checked out the facades of the buildings, the ones that were up and the ones that were still under construction and thought about how much work went into putting on the appearance of one thing while underneath, something else was going on.

Once again, I looked up at Brian, but his attention seemed to be on something else entirely. Turning to track his gaze, I saw an older man walking along with a woman, his arm wrapped around her much like Brian's was around me. The two of them were talking, laughing, and smiling at each other in that way that comes from a lifetime of love.

When I looked up again, Brian's attention was on me, his own eyes and smile saying....

Saying what?

I smiled back, and that seemed to satisfy him.

"They used to have this horse-drawn carousel that, hey, they still do!" He said happily as we walked down the path to the rides. With a gentle nudge, he directed me toward a pen to the right of the path, and beyond it, I could see a white-and-red carousel roof. Instead of the horses and unicorns, I would have expected to see hanging beneath it, though, there were simple wooden swings, only two of them occupied, with the only horse in sight being a tall Clydesdale, clip-clopping along around the outside of the carousel. On his back was a rider in full cowboy gear, holding a long rope attached to a ring attached to the carousel's rim, and as they rode around, he was keeping tension on the rope, so that the horse's slow but steady trot kept the carousel itself moving.

When the rider noticed our approach, he gave us a grin that went all the way up to his temples. "Heya! Line's around the corner, another loop, and we'll be ready for the next group."

Brian gave him a wave in thanks, and together we walked further down the fence to where it attached to an old log shack, or what looked like one. Inside the shack was a turnback line, with a single other couple, a man and a woman, and their toddler waiting.

"When I was little, this was the first ride my grandma would always take me on," he told me as we walked through the line. "She said it had been here since she was little, back when this was a logging camp."

The woman ahead of us turned to watch us approach and smiled. "My grandpa used to do the same when I was little. I'm so happy I get to bring Sandy here to ride it too," she said, tugging gently on the hand of the toddler at her side, who seemed more interested in watching the horse than paying us any mind. "My grandpa passed not long after the park closed, but it's a bit like having him in her life, you know?"

"Yeah," Brian said, squeezing me tighter against him. "Grandma passed when I was in high school, but she always told me she hoped she'd get to bring my kids here too."

I didn't need to hear the touch of strain in Brian's voice to know to hug him back.

"Do you two have any--" the woman started to ask us, but thankfully her question was interrupted by a whistle from the direction of the carousel.

"Thank you for yer patience, folks; right this way, and we'll load up," the gentleman in the cowboy outfit said, riding up to the end of the line on his horse. "Opposite sides of the carousel, helps it balance that way."

The woman and her husband waved at us before walking toward the carousel, pulling the toddler along behind her. who was watching the big horse in awe.

"You two, over here," the cowboy said, directing us to another bench swing.

The swings set a bit off the ground, and I was trying to figure out how best to climb on when I felt Brian's hands on my waist. With a quick twist and an "Alley-oop!" he spun me around and had me on the swing.

"Eeep!" I managed, in embarrassment or surprise or both, then let out another of mild alarm when Brian hopped up on the seat next to me, setting the bench swinging.

"Everyone aboard?" The cowboy asked, looking to the other couple and then to us. Satisfied, he trotted the horse back to the rope, and with a call of "One horse power!" and a whistle, we were off, the carousel slowly lurching to almost silent life.

As the world softly began to turn around us, Brian's arm once again rested around my shoulders.

This time, I didn't question it at all.

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NOTES:

Thanks in advance for any and all comments and kudos!