the beach for one side of the track and Atlantic Avenue for the other. My dad said the straight part is two miles long, so they’re really moving by the time they reach the turn. And it’s so loud.”
“I’d love to see that.”
“Maybe next year you can, soon as this war is over. It’s really exciting.”
Ben didn’t want to say this, but he didn’t see the war ending by next year. The Nazis had far too many men, tanks, and planes. He wouldn’t be surprised if it went on for years. “Maybe I could go with you and your father when they start racing again.”
She smiled. “Maybe.”
Ben turned and faced the Ferris wheel. If pelicans can have fun , he thought. “Ever been on that?”
“A few times,” she said. “The view at the top is amazing.”
“Want to go on it now? I’d like to see that view.” What was he saying? It was too soon.
She looked at the clock tower. “I guess we have time to ride it once, then I probably need to head home for dinner.”
“What time do you need to be home?”
“Five-thirty.”
Before the others had left, Ben had agreed to drive Claire home. He was shocked she’d said yes. “My car’s parked at my apartment on Grandview. It’s only a few blocks from here. I promise I’ll have you there by then.”
“Then let’s do it.”
They walked past the clock tower. The Ferris wheel was just up ahead. He wanted so badly to reach out and take her hand.
“Mind if I ask you something?” she said.
“No.”
“When we were dancing, you said your parents had died . . .”
“And you want to know how?”
She shook her head, seeming embarrassed for asking. “You don’t have to talk about it if it’s too painful.”
It was extremely painful, but he wanted to tell her. At least as much as he could. “It happened six months ago.”
“Six months. Oh, Ben, I’m so sorry.”
“It was quite a shock. I still can’t believe they’re gone.”
“Honestly, Ben, you don’t need to tell me any more. I had no idea it was so recent.”
“It’s okay. I probably can’t share too many details but . . . I want you to know.” They walked past a shooting gallery. Ben smiled as he read a handwritten sign tacked above the original: “Practice Defending Your Country—Right Here!”
“Whatta you say, young fella?” the carnival worker yelled.
Ben looked at the man. Popping and pinging noises rang in his ears from four other customers firing away at an array of moving bunnies, swinging stars, and ducks rotating around a metal ring.
“Yeah, you. Whatta you say, young man? Only cost you twenty-five cents. Shoot down five in a row and win this nice big bear here for your best girl.”
“We’re kind of in a hurry,” Ben said. “And she’s not—”
“C’mon, twenty-five cents. I’ll bet you can’t even shoot four in a row. I’ll let you have this bear if you can shoot down four targets.”
Ben looked at the others he’d sucked in to the game. They were all shooting rifles. He noticed on the table in front of them two pistols. “How many do you have to hit if you use the pistol?”
“Pistols? A lot harder to hit moving targets with a pistol. I’ll give up my bear for three in a row. Just three in a row.”
Ben looked at Claire, tried to read if she was sending him any signals. She just smiled back at him. “How many shots do I get?”
“It’s a six-shooter.”
“Claire, would you like that bear?”
“Ben, you don’t have to do this.”
“Would you like it?”
She laughed. “What girl wouldn’t?”
She was being sarcastic. “See anything else up there you like?”
“What?”
“Pick a second prize.” Ben glanced at the man. He had a confused look.
“Okay,” she said, “that tiger looks pretty cute.”
Ben faced the carnival man. “Make you a deal, sir. If I get all six targets in a row, you give Claire here the bear and the tiger. Anything less than six, I get nothing.”
The man smiled. “A wheeler-dealer, eh? You’re
“I’d love to see that.”
“Maybe next year you can, soon as this war is over. It’s really exciting.”
Ben didn’t want to say this, but he didn’t see the war ending by next year. The Nazis had far too many men, tanks, and planes. He wouldn’t be surprised if it went on for years. “Maybe I could go with you and your father when they start racing again.”
She smiled. “Maybe.”
Ben turned and faced the Ferris wheel. If pelicans can have fun , he thought. “Ever been on that?”
“A few times,” she said. “The view at the top is amazing.”
“Want to go on it now? I’d like to see that view.” What was he saying? It was too soon.
She looked at the clock tower. “I guess we have time to ride it once, then I probably need to head home for dinner.”
“What time do you need to be home?”
“Five-thirty.”
Before the others had left, Ben had agreed to drive Claire home. He was shocked she’d said yes. “My car’s parked at my apartment on Grandview. It’s only a few blocks from here. I promise I’ll have you there by then.”
“Then let’s do it.”
They walked past the clock tower. The Ferris wheel was just up ahead. He wanted so badly to reach out and take her hand.
“Mind if I ask you something?” she said.
“No.”
“When we were dancing, you said your parents had died . . .”
“And you want to know how?”
She shook her head, seeming embarrassed for asking. “You don’t have to talk about it if it’s too painful.”
It was extremely painful, but he wanted to tell her. At least as much as he could. “It happened six months ago.”
“Six months. Oh, Ben, I’m so sorry.”
“It was quite a shock. I still can’t believe they’re gone.”
“Honestly, Ben, you don’t need to tell me any more. I had no idea it was so recent.”
“It’s okay. I probably can’t share too many details but . . . I want you to know.” They walked past a shooting gallery. Ben smiled as he read a handwritten sign tacked above the original: “Practice Defending Your Country—Right Here!”
“Whatta you say, young fella?” the carnival worker yelled.
Ben looked at the man. Popping and pinging noises rang in his ears from four other customers firing away at an array of moving bunnies, swinging stars, and ducks rotating around a metal ring.
“Yeah, you. Whatta you say, young man? Only cost you twenty-five cents. Shoot down five in a row and win this nice big bear here for your best girl.”
“We’re kind of in a hurry,” Ben said. “And she’s not—”
“C’mon, twenty-five cents. I’ll bet you can’t even shoot four in a row. I’ll let you have this bear if you can shoot down four targets.”
Ben looked at the others he’d sucked in to the game. They were all shooting rifles. He noticed on the table in front of them two pistols. “How many do you have to hit if you use the pistol?”
“Pistols? A lot harder to hit moving targets with a pistol. I’ll give up my bear for three in a row. Just three in a row.”
Ben looked at Claire, tried to read if she was sending him any signals. She just smiled back at him. “How many shots do I get?”
“It’s a six-shooter.”
“Claire, would you like that bear?”
“Ben, you don’t have to do this.”
“Would you like it?”
She laughed. “What girl wouldn’t?”
She was being sarcastic. “See anything else up there you like?”
“What?”
“Pick a second prize.” Ben glanced at the man. He had a confused look.
“Okay,” she said, “that tiger looks pretty cute.”
Ben faced the carnival man. “Make you a deal, sir. If I get all six targets in a row, you give Claire here the bear and the tiger. Anything less than six, I get nothing.”
The man smiled. “A wheeler-dealer, eh? You’re
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