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Back The Lighthouse Save as PDF
Chapters (50)
  1. PART ONE
  2. 1
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. 4
  6. 5
  7. 6
  8. 8
  9. 9
  10. 10
  11. 11
  12. PART TWO
  13. 12
  14. 14
  15. 15
  16. 16
  17. 18
  18. 19
  19. 21
  20. 22
  21. 23
  22. 24
  23. 25
  24. 26
  25. 27
  26. 28
  27. 30
  28. 31
  29. 32
  30. 33
  31. 34
  32. 35
  33. 36
  34. 37
  35. 38
  36. 39
  37. 40
  38. 41
  39. 42
  40. 43
  41. PART THREE
  42. 44
  43. 45
  44. 46
  45. 47
  46. 49
  47. 50
  48. 51
  49. 52
  50. EPILOGUE

“I think I do. But it depends.”

“On what?”

He grinned. “Whether or not you like to fish.”

22

22

Very clever,” Amy said.

Ryan paid the operator of a carnival game a five-dollar bill and in exchange received two flimsy plastic rods, one of which he stuck in Amy’s hand.

“You didn’t really think I was going to take you to the beach and cast a line out into the ocean, did you?”

“I didn’t know what to think!” she replied, thinking that she didn’t expect to find herself standing in front of an inflatable pool, comically labeled The Lucky Lagoon, either.

“This is even better. At least here you know you’re gonna catch something.” He alerted her to the prize shelves, headed by a sign that said Guaranteed to Win! “Blue ducks win the top, green the middle, yellow the bottom.”

Amy had always prided herself on her competitive streak and quickly warmed to the challenge. Tempering the excitement, however, was the dearth of prizes on display. It was a rather sad-looking collection, with the winning shelf offering a choice between a plastic ukulele, a bag of marbles, or a cheap-looking teddy bear. Before she cast her line, she leaned over and suggested to Ryan that they up the ante.

“All right,” he said, “what do you have in mind?”

“Hmm, let’s see, how about the loser has to buy us something to eat?”

“Sounds like a win-win to me. I’ll take that bet.”

In no time at all, Amy was sporting a victorious grin. She had managed to reel in the proverbial big one, the sought-after blue duck, while Ryan’s efforts had earned him only a yellow one, securing him second place and the indignity of having to choose between a miniature water pistol and a pair of fluffy dice.

“Don’t suppose there’s any hope of redemption?” he asked as they handed their rods back.

“You bet there is.”

They crisscrossed the midway, visiting every game they could find. Keeping record of who was winning their wager was difficult, though, as the spoils were going back and forth. While Ryan proved adept at popping balloons with darts and throwing rings (which he joked must be residual skill from many hours of horseshoe throwing), Amy surprised even herself by her precision with the toy gun and rubber bullets in Tin Can Alley. There was plenty of friendly pushing and shoving in the Whack-a-Mole; Ryan prevailed easily there on account of his longer reach—but Amy pegged him back in Skee-Ball, making a succession of pinpoint rolls. After a number of prizes had been accumulated and donated to passing kids, they paused to tally up the scores. They were locked at four wins apiece. A tiebreaker was needed, and Amy found the perfect game: the Laughing Clowns.

“What’s this one all about?” Ryan asked.