The Change 2: New York by Guy Adams

Author:Guy Adams
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy
Publisher: Rebellion Publishing Ltd

Chapter Fourteen

GRACE HAD HALF-EXPECTED there would be some sort of fuss to usher them in, maybe an appearance from the Queen herself, a proclamation of their aims, a brief ceremony to get them over the threshold. In actuality there was just one of the guards, sat on the sidewalk with a clipboard. Next to him was a large, knotted sack.

‘Just to confirm your agreement,’ he said, not getting up, just handing the clipboard over. ‘You go in there, feed the babies and, should you return—which you probably won’t—the Queen of Coney Island guarantees that she will supply you with transport and authority to travel up the river as far as Rikers.’

‘Right,’ said Grace, staring at the hastily scribbled contract. ‘And I’m supposed to sign this am I?’

‘Yeah,’ said the guard, staring over the road towards a woman who was opening her tattooing parlour. Grace couldn’t swear whether it was the woman or the notion of a tattoo that had him looking dreamy but she had a fair idea.

‘You got a pen?’ she asked.

‘Nah,’ he replied.

‘Then I can’t sign it.’

‘Whatever,’ he took it back from her, continuing to watch the woman across the road as she unwound the awning above her store window. ‘Food’s in the sack.’

‘Paperwork is the creation of the devil,’ God said, ‘we’re better off without it.’

‘We’ll sign it when we get back,’ she said.

‘Absolutely,’ he agreed, hoisting the sack onto his shoulder, ‘give us half an hour and we’ll be demanding a boat. I’m God, I know this for a fact. Probably.’

The entrance to Dreamland was dominated by a towering edifice of white stone inset with hundreds of old electric bulbs. Even in the brightness of day those bulbs glowed with a liquid light that looked as if it might burn should it pour on you.

Bostock – The Animal King invited you to sample his zoological marvels. “Continuous lions, tigers, bears, panthers, wolves, elephants and hyenas” were promised according to the signs that stood either side of the ticket booth. On the wall a painting of Frank Bostock, a veritable vision of relaxed British tweed. The sort of moustache that had once conquered nations jutted either side of his lips.

For a fleeting moment, the ethereal ghost of a baby elephant pushed between them, its trunk curled skywards as it ran towards the road, then it was gone.

To the right of Bostock’s Animal Arena stood the main entrance to Dreamland. Entering, the park opened out before them. At the centre was the White Tower, rising up over a hundred metres into the sky, its Spanish-styled peak was said to offer a view of forty miles in each direction. Bristling with lights it pulsed at the heart of the midway, a beacon of ostentation writ large over the entire park. To the rear of it was the lagoon, surrounded by the tight loop of the racetrack. All around this central feature ran the rides and exhibition halls. Everything from the Canals of Venice gondola ride to the Midget City exhibition and the Fighting the Flames fire-fighting display.

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