train.
Deserted, Will guessed, because who’d take the Coney Island train on a windy fall day? Who wants to go to the seashore today?
He plopped down on the street grinning, a bit breathless, and he faced the windows that looked out to the sea.
It was choppy out there. The sky had turned gray . . . not exactly threatening, but all the blue was gone, replaced by a full gray-white haze. The water looked even darker than the sky, except for the white tongues of foam that dotted it everywhere. He saw a few large boats rocking in the water.
Some ships have to wait out there for days, his grandfather had told him.
Grandpa knew about these things. He had worked at the Brooklyn Navy Yard, building ships, big ships. Until one day he wasn’t watching and a girder went flying right at him.
There was a closed coffin at the funeral.
And Will’s brother, Danny, said it was because Grandpa had been cut in two.
In fact —
Danny seemed to enjoy telling him that.
“Cut him right in two, Will. And that is why they won’t open the coffin.”
Danny was away at Georgetown University. Spending more time with the Jesuits.
And Will was just as glad.
Except when Dad got bad. Real bad, dark, and lost and —
“Hey, look!” Kiff yelled, swinging from his pole as if he had already been drinking.
“There’s the parachute jump.”
The great metal structure, looking like the skeleton of a giant mushroom, floated past them. It was the tallest thing outside, taller than the housing developments, taller than the roller coaster. It even looked taller than the new Verrazano Bridge. The parachutes were clustered near the top, the head of the mushroom. Will saw the silk chutes — real silk, it was rumored — fluttering in the wind.
“Too bad it’s not open,” Tim said.
“Yeah,” Whalen echoed.
The train stopped.
The Coney Island stop.
Right next to Steeplechase Park, in front of the immense white building.
Steeplechase . The Funny Place , the sign said.
The building was mostly glass, like a giant greenhouse, with the wood frame all painted white. It was a giant building, strange and bizarre, unlike anything else. And inside, there were giant wood slides polished to a glistening patina by decades of fannies sliding down them. And colorful giant cylinders that turned as you tried walking through them.
Will remembered being real small and watching his dad try to crawl through, laughing, falling . . .
It scared him.
And people fell on each other, tumbling in slow motion as though they were human laundry. And when you came out, there was a chaos-loving clown with an air hose. He shot a spray of air at the girls, sending their skirts flying above their waists.
Steeplechase.
And there were rides, like the huge metal horses that sped around the outside of the building. A carousel with balls, is what Danny called it. The rearing horses slid on metal tracks, oh so fast, too fast, as if it wasn’t safe to go that fast.
And it probably wasn’t.
People had gotten hurt. Some said Steeplechase was dangerous. And the parachute jump was part of it. That had to be dangerous.
Even the sign, the symbol of Steeplechase, looked dangerous.
Will looked at it now. The big face above the word.
As the subway clicked and wheezed, ready to push on to the next station.
It was a human face. But only just. It was a man with an acorn-shaped head. He had his slick hair parted right in the middle, left and right. It looked like a misplaced moustache, oversized . . . weird. And he had a grin, a terrible grin that went literally from ear to ear. All teeth. And big fat red lips.
Mad , Will thought.
That face looked absolutely mad. The train started again.
And Kiff was quiet. “Hey, look,” he said.
Will saw Tim get out of his seat to see what Kiff was pointing at.
Will half listened.
“Shit, they’re tearing’ down Steeplechase,” Kiff said. Now he turned back to look at Will and the others, his face red, flaming with
Deserted, Will guessed, because who’d take the Coney Island train on a windy fall day? Who wants to go to the seashore today?
He plopped down on the street grinning, a bit breathless, and he faced the windows that looked out to the sea.
It was choppy out there. The sky had turned gray . . . not exactly threatening, but all the blue was gone, replaced by a full gray-white haze. The water looked even darker than the sky, except for the white tongues of foam that dotted it everywhere. He saw a few large boats rocking in the water.
Some ships have to wait out there for days, his grandfather had told him.
Grandpa knew about these things. He had worked at the Brooklyn Navy Yard, building ships, big ships. Until one day he wasn’t watching and a girder went flying right at him.
There was a closed coffin at the funeral.
And Will’s brother, Danny, said it was because Grandpa had been cut in two.
In fact —
Danny seemed to enjoy telling him that.
“Cut him right in two, Will. And that is why they won’t open the coffin.”
Danny was away at Georgetown University. Spending more time with the Jesuits.
And Will was just as glad.
Except when Dad got bad. Real bad, dark, and lost and —
“Hey, look!” Kiff yelled, swinging from his pole as if he had already been drinking.
“There’s the parachute jump.”
The great metal structure, looking like the skeleton of a giant mushroom, floated past them. It was the tallest thing outside, taller than the housing developments, taller than the roller coaster. It even looked taller than the new Verrazano Bridge. The parachutes were clustered near the top, the head of the mushroom. Will saw the silk chutes — real silk, it was rumored — fluttering in the wind.
“Too bad it’s not open,” Tim said.
“Yeah,” Whalen echoed.
The train stopped.
The Coney Island stop.
Right next to Steeplechase Park, in front of the immense white building.
Steeplechase . The Funny Place , the sign said.
The building was mostly glass, like a giant greenhouse, with the wood frame all painted white. It was a giant building, strange and bizarre, unlike anything else. And inside, there were giant wood slides polished to a glistening patina by decades of fannies sliding down them. And colorful giant cylinders that turned as you tried walking through them.
Will remembered being real small and watching his dad try to crawl through, laughing, falling . . .
It scared him.
And people fell on each other, tumbling in slow motion as though they were human laundry. And when you came out, there was a chaos-loving clown with an air hose. He shot a spray of air at the girls, sending their skirts flying above their waists.
Steeplechase.
And there were rides, like the huge metal horses that sped around the outside of the building. A carousel with balls, is what Danny called it. The rearing horses slid on metal tracks, oh so fast, too fast, as if it wasn’t safe to go that fast.
And it probably wasn’t.
People had gotten hurt. Some said Steeplechase was dangerous. And the parachute jump was part of it. That had to be dangerous.
Even the sign, the symbol of Steeplechase, looked dangerous.
Will looked at it now. The big face above the word.
As the subway clicked and wheezed, ready to push on to the next station.
It was a human face. But only just. It was a man with an acorn-shaped head. He had his slick hair parted right in the middle, left and right. It looked like a misplaced moustache, oversized . . . weird. And he had a grin, a terrible grin that went literally from ear to ear. All teeth. And big fat red lips.
Mad , Will thought.
That face looked absolutely mad. The train started again.
And Kiff was quiet. “Hey, look,” he said.
Will saw Tim get out of his seat to see what Kiff was pointing at.
Will half listened.
“Shit, they’re tearing’ down Steeplechase,” Kiff said. Now he turned back to look at Will and the others, his face red, flaming with
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