Night of the Tiger

Chapter Four

The room before her was enormous, almost as if it were a large tent on its own. And perhaps it was. Because of the dim lighting, it was impossible to tell how many tents were connected in this maze of canvas.

Aimee gasped at the sight in front of her and found her feet moving of their own accord. She’d never seen anything quite this beautiful in her entire life. Her fears and misgivings were momentarily forgotten as a sense of wonder and anticipation swept over her.

Spotlighted in the center of the canvas room was a beautiful antique carousel. It was an ornate masterpiece from a bygone era. The base and the top were heavily carved with curlicues and spirals. It was fanciful and gorgeous, exactly what a carousel should be.

There were four carved and painted animals anchored to the base of the carousel. But there were also several empty spots, which meant there had been more at some earlier date. Obviously the ride had been damaged at some point and that’s why it wasn’t available for the public.

The crowds of people who visited the carnival were missing out on a gem. The carousel was exquisite, a work of art. Aimee slowly circled it, admiring each of the animals in turn. A bear, lion and wolf all sat poised and ready for someone to sit on them. They were huge animals, big enough for an adult, and so lifelike she almost expected the lion to roar and the wolf to howl.

But it was the gigantic white tiger that drew and held her attention. It was exactly like the one from her dreams, exactly like the one she’d seen in the funhouse earlier this evening.

White tigers weren’t completely white—the fur was interspersed with a pattern of black bands. This one had bands that hugged its muscular body and fiercely handsome face. Its blue eyes seemed to pierce the darkness like glowing sapphires. It sat low on its haunches, muscles coiled and ready to jump. “Aren’t you gorgeous,” she whispered as she stepped closer.

She had no idea why she was whispering. She appeared to be completely alone. But there was something special, almost magical, about being in the presence of something so magnificent.

Aimee knew she had to get out of here and go home. She had to call Sandra and explain what had happened. Well, maybe not everything. There was no need to tell her friend about the erotic vision she’d had featuring Sandra as the star. That was just too weird.

There had to be some logical explanation for all the strange things she’d seen and experienced. Once again, she toyed with the idea that maybe she’d had a hallucination of some kind and imagined the whole thing. She’d certainly never thought about her friend being part of a ménage a trois before. Aimee wasn’t quite certain what it was called when there were more than three people. Maybe a ménage a quatre?

Whatever it was called, Aimee knew she wouldn’t forget it any time soon. She wouldn’t be surprised if her friend had done something like that in her lifetime. Sandra was an incredibly beautiful woman and not shy about admitting she enjoyed sex and all its variations.

That had to be it. For whatever reason, Aimee had dropped into a waking dream and her wild imagination had taken over. Perhaps it was due to the erotic dream she’d had last night. She was probably projecting those thoughts onto her friend.

She glanced around the tent, relaxing slightly when she assured herself she was still alone. It was just her and the carousel. She had to see it up close before she left. There would never be another opportunity for her to do so as there was no way she was coming back to the carnival.

And the carousel was a thing of beauty. It sat there looking forlorn and forgotten, and it called to her in ways she couldn’t explain. She had to get closer. She bit her bottom lip and kept glancing over her shoulder as she crept toward it. The white-and-red paint and gold gilding was chipped and fading on the top and base, but the animals themselves appeared to be maintained in perfect condition. Slowly, she circled the ride again, this time studying each animal in turn.

She eyed the wolf’s flank. The muscles rippled as though the creature was in mid-stride. The beast’s mouth was open in a silent snarl, sharp white teeth threatening. This was no softened version of an animal, but the creature at its most wild and elemental.

“I wouldn’t want to make you angry,” she murmured as she walked on without touching the wolf. Somehow, she had the impression he didn’t want to be touched. Which was crazy.

“No crazier than the rest of this night’s been.”

There was an empty space beside the wolf. A small metal label bolted next to it read serpent. Aimee shivered, wondering what a giant serpent would look like. Maybe it was more dragon-like than serpent. But she’d never know.

Another empty space appeared. This one also had a metal label, which read jaguar. A pity that one was gone. She would have liked to see a larger-than-life jaguar. She imagined he’d be very impressive with his sleek, muscular body, sharp teeth and strong jaws.

She stepped up to the next animal and read the label bolted next to one of its massive front paws. “Brown bear,” she whispered. The beast was massive, his fur a combination of brown, blond and black. Powerful and commanding, this was the king of the forest. Hesitantly, Aimee reached out and stroked the tips of her fingers over its thick hindquarters. Fur brushed against her fingers. She could almost swear she’d felt a ripple of muscles.

“Impossible,” she breathed. It was carved from wood, wasn’t it? She peered closer. It looked like wood, and yet when she touched the fur it felt incredibly real. Shaking her hand, she moved on.

Another empty space. The label on this one seemed slightly scorched. She had to bend down to read it. Phoenix. She straightened and stared at the metal plate. Aimee liked the fact that there was a mythical animal mixed with real ones. What would a phoenix look like? Larger than life, for sure. Probably shades of red and orange and gold, like fire. She wished all the creatures were here for her to see.

The lion was next, and she couldn’t resist reaching out to touch his mane. Although he appeared to be a fierce fellow, she didn’t think he’d mind. As with the bear, the fur seemed soft when she dragged her fingertips across it.

She enjoyed the sensation, but didn’t try to find a rational explanation for it, writing it off as nothing more than her overactive imagination.

Aimee finally came to a stop beside the elusive white tiger. There were hardly any left in the world. They’d been hunted for their beautiful fur pelt and their habitats taken over by man until they were on the endangered species list. This one wasn’t real, but it appeared incredibly lifelike.

“Magnificent.” Real or not, she had to touch him. And she somehow knew it was a male tiger. All the animals on the ride were male.

Reaching out, she stroked her palm over the creature’s side. She jerked her hand back and curled her fingers inward. The tiger had felt warm, almost hot beneath her palm. Not cold like the other animals.

Intrigued, she stepped up onto the platform. The base was solid, her weight not shifting the ride in the slightest. She rested her palm against the crown of the tiger’s head. Fur, soft and warm, pressed against her skin. A voice in her head urged her to sit on his back.

She furtively checked the shadows. There was no one here but her, if you didn’t count the animals of the carousel. Aimee chewed on her bottom lip. What would it hurt?

She wanted to climb onto the back of the tiger, even if it was only for a second. What’s the worst thing could happen? Someone would find her and kick her out of the tent. She’d planned on leaving anyway, so she had nothing to lose.

But if she left without sitting on the back of the tiger she knew she’d regret it until her dying breath. She felt a connection to the ride, to the tiger, deep in her soul.

“You won’t mind if I sit on you, will you?” she asked the tiger. “Just for a minute?” She stroked her fingers over his wide forehead and down his flat nose. Soft fur brushed her fingertips. She ignored the tingling sensation that continued when she lifted her hand away.

She hooked her purse strap over her head and shifted it beneath one arm to get it out of the way and leave her hands free. “I need both hands to ride a tiger,” she confided to the patient beast.

Placing her hands on either side of his thick neck, she threw one leg over his wide back. It wasn’t as easy as she’d anticipated. The tiger was huge. Digging her fingers into his heavy muscles, she grunted as she pulled herself upright.

A bell clanged, loud and clear. Aimee jerked suddenly and started to slip. Grabbing the tiger’s neck, she held on and managed to keep from falling. Had she set off some kind of alarm system by sitting on the ride?

When no one rushed in to order her off the tiger, she took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. Whatever the noise was, it obviously had nothing to do with her. She’d sit here for a minute and then find a way out. It was time for her to go home.

Sadness filled her at the thought of never seeing the tiger or the carousel again. She wished she could somehow take it home with her. She’d fix up the old barn to keep it in so she could look at it every day. Take care of the remaining animals. Maybe even see about having the three missing ones replaced.

As much as she wanted it to happen, it wasn’t going to. But the carousel would live on in her work. She planned to draw the funhouse, the carnival, the rides and all the rest as soon as she got home. But before she drew any of those things, she was going to capture the carousel on paper. It would be a pale imitation of reality, but it was the best she could do.

Music filtered into the tent. It was low at first, but got louder with each passing second. It was traditional carnival music, the type of song that had no name but was instantly recognizable as the type of music that accompanied a carousel ride.

It was pretty and Aimee found herself humming along as she settled herself on the tiger’s back. “Da da da da dum,” she sang, alternating between humming and murmuring aloud.

Closing her eyes, she imagined herself actually riding the carousel as it whirled around. Her eyes shot open and she jerked her arm away as she felt a ripple beneath her hand. Had the tiger moved?

“You’re imagining things,” she muttered. But she was no longer quite certain. She’d seen many strange and impossible things here tonight. But it was a carnival, all smoke and mirrors—the funhouse, the performances and the rides. Everything about this place, from the pounding rhythm of the music to the bright flashing lights of the rides, was designed to give the customer a sense of excitement and wonder.

But the evening was over, the carnival was closed and it was time for her to leave.

Aimee was shocked by how badly she wanted to stay seated on the tiger. It was as if a part of her was urging her to hang on to him and never let go. “He’s not real,” she whispered. “He’s just a carved animal.” Besides, if he were a real tiger, he’d probably eat her for breakfast.

With great reluctance, she started to release her grip on the tiger’s neck. Just as she did, the carousel bucked and began to move.

“What the hell?” Grabbing hold to keep from falling, she looked frantically around. There was no one there. Yet the music continued to play and the ride began to circle around, moving faster and faster with each revolution until Aimee felt dizzy. With her weak leg, there was no way for her to get off without hurting herself.

“Stop.” She didn’t know who she was talking to, but there had to be someone out there operating the controls for the ride. “Please stop.”

“It’s too late to stop now,” a disembodied voice from the shadows informed her. “It was too late from the moment you chose one of the beasts and climbed onto his back.”

Lights flickered on, one by one, slowly illuminating the entire tent. There appeared to be benches circling the carousel, and all of them were filled with people. Aimee recognized the old man who’d sold her tickets at the main entrance, the fire-eater and the magician. All the performers and carnival workers were there. As she spun around again, Aimee saw the red-haired girl who’d taken her ticket for the sideshow and the smirking man who’d been in charge of the funhouse.

“Please let me off,” she begged as the ride moved more rapidly, the background nothing but a blur. It was going so fast now that she was afraid she was going to be sick. The hotdog she’d eaten earlier churned in her stomach, and she swallowed hard to keep from losing it.

The lion in front of her turned its head and stared at her. Her eyes were watering from the sheer speed of the ride and the dust being stirred up from the canvas floor. She blinked, not believing what she was seeing. The lion opened his mouth and roared before returning to his original position on the carousel.

The wolf howled, the bear growled. Aimee wanted to cover her ears but didn’t dare let go of the tiger. If she lost her grip, she’d be thrown from the ride. At the speed she was traveling, she’d at least break a limb or two, if she weren’t killed outright.

The crowd began to yell and then they began to chant. They were all crazy. She was crazy. Because they all began to change before her eyes. Whether it was a trick of her eyes because of the speed she was traveling or whether she was seeing them as they truly were, she had no idea. Their faces changed, their skin growing leathery and their eyes glowing like red embers. Some of them seemed to have horns. They morphed from people into the demons from her nightmares.

She couldn’t understand what they were chanting at first, but their words eventually came into focus. “Roric! Roric! Roric!” Aimee had no idea what the word meant, and she didn’t care. All she wanted was to get out of this place and go home to her familiar, two-story cottage just outside town. She would be safe there. If only she could get home.

Closing her eyes, she leaned down and wrapped her arms completely around the tiger’s neck. “Please. Please take me home,” she pleaded.

Laughter mocked her as the ride whirled at an impossible speed. A female voice seemed to whisper on the wind, but she couldn’t make out what the woman was saying. Maybe it was hope. Or it could be help. The voice was familiar, like something she’d dreamed once before.

Aimee couldn’t think. The speed and the constant circling were making her dizzy. She was close to passing out, and if that happened she would fall. Memories of the car accident that took her parents’ life assailed her. It was much the same—the feeling of being totally out of control, of being unable to stop what was happening even though you knew it would end badly.

Terror shot through her body and struck her soul. She was going to die.

Her vision began to dim. She closed her eyes and prayed for the madness to stop. In her dreams, the tiger always protected her. With her remaining strength, she pressed her lips against the carved tiger, ignoring the warmth and the brush of fur.

“Protect me, tiger. Take me home.”

The world around her exploded in a mass of lights and screams. A kaleidoscope of color surrounded her. Even with her eyes shut tight, she could see the brilliant flashes of red, orange, yellow, green, sky blue, indigo and violet, as well as a multitude of colors she couldn’t name. She wanted to reach out and touch the colors. They were so beautiful they brought tears to her eyes.

Her grip grew weaker and her body shifted. Her fingers and legs were numb from holding on so tight. She felt herself falling, but there was nothing she could do to stop it from happening. Her strength was gone.

She slipped, her fingers dropping away from the tiger’s neck. A mighty roar split the air, the sound filled with anguish and anger. Aimee wanted to scream but the sound caught in her throat.

The world went black and silent.