The Funhouse

hell,” Liz said, “he wasn't tattling on you. It's not like he told a stranger. I'm your best friend. And Buzz and I go way, way back. I used to screw around with him, and we're still the best of buddies. Listen, kid, when we leave the carnival tonight, let's go back to my house. My folks are still away. You and Buzz can use their bedroom. Stop teasing the guy. Give him a break. Give yourself a break. You want the old salami just as much as I do.”
        Buzz and Richie got back in the car, and Richie fired up a joint. While Buzz drove to the fairgrounds, they passed around the dope, and each of them took a couple of deep drags, holding the smoke in their lungs as long as they could. In the parking lot at the fairgrounds, they lit another joint and sat in the car until they had done that one, too.
        By the time they reached the ticket booth, Amy was feeling warm, airy, and a bit giggly. As she drifted onto the carnival lot, into that roar of sound and whirlpool of motion, she had the peculiar feeling that tonight was going to be one of the most important nights of her life. Tonight she would make decisions about herself, tonight she would either accept the role in life that both Liz and Mama believed she was suited for, or she would make up her mind to be the good, responsible person that she had always wanted to be. She was standing on a thin line, and it was time to jump one way or the other, time to make up her mind about herself. She didn't know how she knew that, but she did know it. The feeling was unshakable. At first it sobered her and made her a little bit afraid, but then Liz made a very funny crack about a fat woman who was walking up the midway in front of them, and Amy laughed, and the grass had its effect, and the laugh turned into an uncontrollable giggle, and she was floating again.

PART THREE
        
    The Funhouse

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    12
        
        Amy discovered that Liz was right about a little grass making the thrill rides even more fun than usual. They rode the Octopus, the Tilt-a-Whirl, the Dive Bomber, the Whip, the Loop-de-Loop, the Colossus, and others. The ramps seemed higher than those on thrill rides that Amy had ridden in - previous carnivals, the dips seemed deeper, the whipping action, the spinning, soaring, diving, twisting, and turning all seemed wilder and faster than ever before. Amy held onto Buzz and screamed with delight and with a quiver of genuine terror as well. Buzz pulled her close, he used her fear and the sudden lurchings of the rides as excuses to cop some quick, cheap feels. Like Liz, Amy was wearing shorts, a T-shirt, but no bra. Buzz couldn't resist touching her breasts and her long, bare, nicely tanned legs. Each time she got off a ride, Amy was disoriented for a minute or two and had to cling to Buzz, and he liked that, and she liked it, too, because Buzz had such big, hard, muscular arms and shoulders.
        Only forty minutes after they arrived at the fairgrounds, they slipped off the midway, between a couple of sideshows, to the back lot, where rows of carnival trucks were parked. They went around behind the trucks, into a deserted cul-de-sac that ended at the fairgrounds' ivy-covered fence. They stood in shadow-dappled, summer-evening sunlight and passed around a third joint that Liz took out of her purse, they sucked in the sweet smoke, held it down as long as they possibly could, then let it out with urgent gasps of pleasure.
        “This one's a little different,” Richie said as the hand-rolled cigarette made its second circle around their huddle.
        “This one what?” Amy asked.
        “This joint,” Richie said.
        “Yeah,” Liz said. “It's spiced up.”
        “With what?” Buzz asked.
        “Trust me.”
        “Angel dust?” Richie asked.
        “Trust me,” Liz said.
        “Hey,” Buzz said, “I'm not sure I like smoking something that I don't know what it is.”
        “Trust me,” Liz said.
        “I trust you about as far as I can throw you,” Buzz said.
        “Doesn't matter,” Liz said. “We've almost finished the joint anyway.”
        Buzz was holding the stub. He hesitated, then said, “Oh, hell, why not live dangerously.” He took one last drag on it.
        Richie started to kiss Liz on the neck, and Buzz kissed Amy, and without quite realizing how it happened, Amy found herself pinned against the side of one of the trucks, and Buzz was running his hands up and down her body,