Shelly's Arc

Chapter 12 of 12

The registration slip sat on Shelly's desk for a week before she stopped looking at it. The gate kept spinning. Families lined up at dawn for the cactus slide and the twisting sunset rides. The register drawer filled twice a day. By Friday she had a stack of envelopes ready, each one with a name on the front in black marker. She drove out to the dune camp first. Duke stood by his board when she pulled up. She handed him the envelope and thanked his crew for the amenities work. He counted the bills once, then folded them into his shorts. "Clean, boss," he said. "No debt between us now." He grinned. "Except that dinner still on the books." Shelly said she remembered. She got back in the truck before he could push it further. Fat Tony took his payment at the back booth of his shop, feet up, an old film reel spinning behind him. He thumbed the stack without looking down. "Ya paid me faster than I expected, sistren. Most people, they stretch it out." Shelly said she did not want him holding paper on her. Tony laughed and tipped his sandal at her. "Smart. Real smart. Come back when ya want the sequel." George was on a ladder at the ride tower when she found him. He climbed down wiping grease on his shorts, antennae bobbing. "Payday already? Oh, that's just lovely." He tucked the envelope in his tool belt without opening it. "You call me for the next build too, yeah? I've got ideas. I've got sketches. I've got a notebook that's basically ninety percent doodles but the other ten percent, Shelly, the other ten percent." She promised she would call. Amina met her at the council office steps. Shelly held out the envelope. Amina did not take it. "That was a favor, not an invoice," Amina said. "I told you I would collect later." Shelly said she wanted the money side clear anyway. Amina looked at the envelope, then at Shelly. "Keep it. I still get my favor." Her mouth tightened. "And you should drive around the block before you go home." Shelly did. The theater sat dark. The mini-golf gate was chained. The arcade windows were papered over from the inside. A fresh sign hung on each door, small and neat, the same three words on all of them. Sold. Sold. Sold. No new tenant name. No listing agent. Just sold. She parked across the street and sat with the engine off for a long time. She pulled the folded registration slip from the glove box. The shipping company name stared back at her. Malcolm had taken the offer she refused. The buildings around her park were not empty by accident. Someone two states away now owned every wall that touched her fence. Shelly started the truck and drove back to the gate.