A life for a life
Sharon was devastated. She asked herself again if she could have done anything differently to avoid hitting the boy. He had darted out into the street from between two cars, and she had tried to stop, but there hadn't been enough time. His name was Nicholai, and he was dead because of her.
Oh sure, the police said it wasn't her fault, but that didn't matter to her. It wouldn't erase the past. Nothing would. If she had only left home a little earlier or a little later, or if she had taken a different street he would still be alive. Six years was too short a time to spend on this earth and she would take the memory of that day to her grave. The surprised look on his face as she struck him was destined to haunt her dreams for the rest of her life.
* Seven years later
Sharon sat on the bench in front of the carousel, watching her six year old daughter Chrissy ride her favorite stallion. Chrissy stubbornly refused to ride any other on the merry-go-round, insisting that "Walter", as she had named him, was the only one worthy of her attention. What the little girl saw in that gaudy beast was beyond Sharon. It appeared to her that the horse's mouth was forever frozen in a scream of terror, and its teeth looked strangely human.
The hurdy-gurdy music jangled and clanked out its tune, and the carousel spun as it had for many years beyond local memory. Sharon felt a bead of sweat roll lazily down her left temple to the indentation at the base of her neck, where it joined others in a slowly growing pool of perspiration. The heat of the afternoon and the harshness of the music combined to give her a vague feeling of unreality.
It had always seemed odd to her how children flocked to these types of attractions, where an assortment of lions, tigers, bears and horses were skewered on brass poles. The animals looked outlandish to her, and she wondered briefly who had thought up the idea of trusting such horrendous creatures to bear the precious burden that was placed in their care.
Shuddering inwardly at the thought, Sharon glanced to her right at the woman who sat a mere four feet away at the other end of the bench. Her gray hair was splayed out across her shoulders in a haphazard fashion, and was in stark contrast to the black dress that she wore. Her skin was weathered and wrinkled to a point that she seemed a caricature of an evil gypsy in some forgotten fairy tale.
The old woman was muttering something that was barely audible, which made Sharon slightly uncomfortable.
"Excuse me," said Sharon, "are you talking to me?"
"Is that your little girl?" asked the old crone in a rasping voice as she pointed to Chrissy. "She has your looks."
"Yes it is, but I'm hoping that she'll be far prettier than I am when she grows up." replied Sharon somewhat relieved.
The old woman muttered something else and slid a little closer to her along the bench, coming so close that they were almost touching.
"A life for a life" she croaked, fixing the other woman with a baleful stare.
"What?" exclaimed Sharon, now completely alarmed.
"A life for a life" repeated the antiquated hag, "Or don't you remember my grandson Nicholai? You murdered him was he was your daughter's age."
Sharon's eyes grew wide with shock, and her voice came halting from her mouth.
"I...I remember Nicholai, of course I do. How could I ever forget? There isn't a day goes by that I don't...."
"I'm not interested in your regrets young lady, they won't bring my grandson back" said the old woman, her eyes narrowing to dark slits in her ancient face. "Look upon your daughter now, and see what you have wrought."
Sharon tore her gaze from the old woman and searched for her daughter among the riders on the carousel. It may have been her imagination, but it seemed to her that the music was blaring even louder since the old woman had begun talking. At last she saw Chrissy who was laughing and waving to her from the back of her favorite mount. Letting out a huge sigh, she turned back to the aged woman and opened her mouth to speak.
"Wait my dear" said the old gypsy, "tell me if you notice anything different as the carousel turns."
Sharon turned back toward the carousel with a rising sense of panic and saw her daughter disappear around the corner, then reappear shortly, completing the revolution. Sharon stared at Chrissy with a feeling of disbelief. Her daughter appeared to have aged at least five years, although no one else on the ride seemed to notice.
Sharon tried to scream, "CHRISSY!" but all that emerged from her throat was a strangled cry. She looked in horror as her daughter disappeared once more behind the merry-go-round, and when she emerged again, she appeared to be in her late teens, and had a terrified look on her face.
"Stop this! Please stop." Sharon pleaded with the old woman. "I'm sorry, please don't take it out on my daughter."
In response, the old woman held up her arm and pointed toward the carousel. Sharon had missed a couple of rotations and saw that Chrissy was now middle aged, and was reaching out to her in an apparent plea for help. Sharon tried to rise to her feet, but found her arm painfully grasped in the iron grip of the old woman, who held her rigid against the surface of the bench.
"Please, please, if you don't stop she'll die of old age before the ride is over." she cried. "I'll do anything, I'll take her place!"
"Be mindful of your words." said the old woman. "Death awaits the rider of that particular horse."
"Do what you want to me, just save my daughter!" said Sharon.
"Very well" replied the old woman, "come back here tonight and I will allow you to repay your debt. If you fail to come, your daughter will be dead before the sun rises."
"Thank you, I promise I'll be here." said Sharon. With the speed that only a terrified mother could muster, she ran to the carousel as it slowed to a stop. Sharon jumped up onto the level of the riders and ran to where her six year old daughter sat on her horse, rubbing her eyes and yawning widely.
"Hello mommy," said Chrissy, "I think I must have gone to sleep."
"Let's get you down from there." said her mother, "We have to go now. Your daddy will be home soon."
That night after Chrissy was in bed, Sharon told her husband that she had to go out to the store for an hour or so. It puzzled him that she gave him such a passionate kiss before leaving, but the game was coming on, so he didn't give it much thought.
She approached the darkened carousel with a feeling of dread, but she was determined to protect her child from any possible harm. As she got nearer, she noticed that the old woman was waiting for her, standing with the aid of a gnarled wooden cane near the horse that her daughter had ridden earlier in the day.
"I'm surprised you showed up" said the gypsy from the shadows of the ride. "Get on the horse and prepare to die."
Sharon walked reluctantly over to the stallion and hoisted herself up onto its back. As if on cue, she heard the machinery engage and the hurdy-gurdy music starting with an off key hitch, before it settled into the familiar raucous melody. The lights of the carousel suddenly blazed into life, causing her to momentarily squint against the glare.
She looked out at the park, saw the landscape passing by and closed her eyes in anticipation of the horror she knew was awaiting her. The old woman stood at the next mount, holding on to the bridle and watching Sharon with a hateful expression on her face.
Sharon opened her eyes and looked down at her hands, recoiling in horror at what she saw. Wrinkles formed before her eyes, and age spots appeared on the skin of her hands. Her knuckles suddenly ached, and her fingers bent in arthritic contortions as she gripped the brass pole in desperation.
Searching for an escape, she looked toward the inner portion of the carousel where elongated mirrors reflected the lights and the rising and falling animals that normally carried laughing children. There in the surface of the nearest mirror she saw her reflection. Bent and grizzled, she looked forty years older already, and the carousel was still revolving.
Her breathing became labored and she could feel her heart pounding spasmodically in her chest. She wondered dimly how many more rotations she could survive. The pain in her chest seemed unbearable and she wished to herself that it would all be over soon.
"GRANDMA, STOP!" yelled a young voice.
Both Sharon and the old woman looked to where the voice had come from, and there on the bench where they had met that very morning, sat a small boy. It was Nicholai as he had been before he died, sitting on the bench and staring back at them with urgency written on his face.
As the carousel came to a gradual stop, and the music ended, Sharon's aging halted and began to reverse itself. By the time the ride came to a complete stop Sharon had magically regained her previous appearance.
In silence, the women stepped down from the surface of the ride and approached the bench where Nicholai waited, swinging his legs beneath the bench and smiling up at his grandmother.
"It wasn't her fault. She didn't do anything wrong grandma." he said with a serious look on his little face.
Tears of joy fell from the eyes of the old woman as she dropped to her knees and embraced the young boy.
"Oh Nicholai, I've missed you so much." she said as she ran her hands through his pitch black hair.
"I've missed you too grandma" Nicholai said with a grin, "but you shouldn't have done that to this nice lady, we have to set things right."
"And how do we do that Nicholai?" she asked him.
"A life for a life, grandma." he told her, "A life for a life."
Nicholai scooted forward and jumped down from the bench. He grabbed his grandmother's hand and looked up into her creased but loving face and said, "Come on grandma, I've got someplace great I want to show you!" He turned to Sharon and gave her a parting smile. "Good bye lady. Don't worry, I'm not mad, so don't worry about me anymore, ok?"
Sharon watched as they walked hand in hand from the park, talking excitedly to each other in the gathering mist.
She awoke in the park, lying on the grass up on the hill above the carousel, and wondered how she had gotten there. The last thing she remembered was watching Chrissy as she rode with her head back, laughing with the abandon that only a six year old could achieve.
For some reason Sharon felt better than she had in years. She got up and wiped the grass from her clothes, thinking to herself that she'd better get home to her husband and daughter before they got worried.
She looked back down the hill to the carousel as it lay shrouded in shadows. Somehow it didn't seem to be so scary to her anymore.