Every generation spins its own tales, fresh smoke signals from our smoldering fears. Like the cackling Ghost Tunnels, the Cyclone rides, and the snake charmers, the stories raise our hackles and acquaint us with the physical sensations of dread, creeping horror, and the shock of terror. This experience is essential for our survival. We absorb the stories and learn how fear feels, so when those sweeping emotions come at us out of life we are not paralyzed by them, but can react. If the stranger’s smile takes on a peculiar twist, we step back and walk away. When the siren shrieks in the dark, we rise and run.
So welcome this collection of extremely useful stories from the Nightmare Carnival. Strap yourself in and buckle up. You’re in for a wild ride.
PREFACE
I’ve got a confession: I never went to a carnival when I was growing up. I was, however, taken by my parents to the circus on a regular basis — the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus, which was held annually at Madison Square Garden in Manhattan. I loved the acrobats, the jugglers, the tightrope walkers, the animals, the smell of popcorn, the cotton candy. Always hated the clowns. I wasn’t afraid of them; I just didn’t think they were funny and disliked that their humor was usually ridicule, or being mean to each other. In the late 1950s there were still freak shows attached to the circus, but my parents never took me around to see them. The only “freak” show I’ve ever attended is the ongoing Coney Island Circus Sideshow, which has human blockheads, fire-eaters, sword swallowers, contortionists, and other people who can perform crazy feats.
I’ve only gone to carnivals as an adult. Carnivals usually held in fields or parking lots. With their games (win a goldfish!), their rides, their guess your weight or guess your age or tell you your fortune, their hit the bell and know you’re big and strong. The smell of popcorn, the cotton candy.
Some of you may be curious to know the difference between the carnival and the circus. Initially the two were very different: carnivals were held to honor a specific religious, historical, or cultural figure and provide entertainment, such as food stalls, rides, games, and mini shows; circuses were held in a ring or circular tent, and a crowd would gather to witness exhibitions by entertainers and trained animals.
But there’s always been overlap. Both circuses and carnivals had freak shows. And as shown by my limited experience, they’re places to see unusual things. To enjoy acrobatic skills, trained animals, clowns. And to eat junk food.
While carnivals and circuses are usually considered wondrous places for children, there’s always been a dark underside, expertly depicted in the past by such masters as Katherine Dunn (
In
Come to the carnival and experience it all.
SCAPEGOATS
by N. Lee Wood
In the two-window compartment of the sleeping car she and her husband, Max, occupied, “The Amazing Lobster Woman” Mae Wrightson awoke, sleep crumbling as the clacking of rails began to slow. She sat up in the narrow bed, Max still snoring beside her, and pushed the velvet curtains aside with her deformed hands to blink bleary eyed at mist seeping through dead grass, moonlit sky the color of bad milk. As the train curved around a bend, she could make out the engine puffing black smoke, the tips of elephant trunks squirming through the slats of the cattle cars, the rocking of parade wagons atop the flatbeds. All the windows in the sleeper cars were drawn, shutting out the world.
The Bishop had organized his advance banner men well, judging by the sheer number of posters pasted on every barn, water tower, and weatherboard hotel they passed for miles as the fifteen-carriage-long circus train rolled into Ashton. Last season on the big road hadn’t been as profitable as hoped, too many rival shows sucking up each other’s air. This year, the Bishop guarded his small road routes carefully to avoid tipping off competitors. Dukey runs made more money but the pace was exhausting. Mae was glad this weekend they’d at least have two nights of sleep without the clatter of rails beneath them.