2
It makes sense. A little bit, anyway. If you were trying to do something with a passed-out woman and you were dressed as a leprechaun where there were all kinds of performers.
I imagine, if I’ve judged Skye and Zach, they’ll be along at any minute now. ”
“Okay. Let’s see what the banshees are doing, how they’re haunting folks,” Angela agreed. “Skye just might recognize a leprechaun!”
It turned out that the haunted house experience was a ride, and the two of them quickly slid into a seat.
Angela laughed when their little car pulled into the darkness once they were seated and the ride was underway. The first thing to happen was an aerial illusion of gray, mean-faced “banshee” coming straight at them.
“It’s really, um dumb, in a way,” Angela murmured.
“Well, most such attractions are a little . . . over the edge, I guess?” Jackson suggested.
“It’s banshee overkill,” Angela said. “And weird, but . . . I feel that something is . . . I don’t know. Getting ready for St. Patrick’s Day. I guess we feel the need to investigate fake banshees.”
“I agree. We had to come here,” Jackson said. But he made a face and winced as he looked at Angela. People in the cars around them were yelping, gasping, and screaming as their ride cars moved over the winding rails.
“Creepy but stupid. And yes, I guess, but . . . well, maybe if we can find our leprechaun, we can find out why a pile of cheap gravestones—really well done, I will say—and other stuff can be so weird.”
As the ride progressed, they passed dozens of well-done Styrofoam tombstones and graveyard art with more and more of the wispy creatures sweeping by.
Then then their ride car drove over the tracks through pillars and into the “house” within the ride where, in the parlor, a funeral scene was staged with several coffins along with priests and family member mannequins looking over them.
One coffin held an elderly man; another held a handsome young soldier holding his army cap in his hand.
Yet another coffin held a cleric. And perhaps the most interesting mannequin in a coffin—because it appeared that the wispy aerial banshees had chosen to really pick on her—was that of a lovely young woman with a tremendous fall of black hair lay, hands folded in prayer, dressed in nineteenth century apparel, a trail of gray gauze over her as if it was unreal, just a sweep of the misty gray banshee above her.
As the ride continued through more of a graveyard.
A large gray, evil looking creature—banshee—appeared as the car was about to leave the attraction.
And in large letters over that final archway where the evil looking banshee stretched out her arms was written the warning, “Next . . . I’m coming for you! ”
Jackson helped Angela step out of the ride car. All around them people were screaming about both how “awesome” and “scary” the ride was, but definitely not for the little guys!
Well, those running the St. Paddy’s theme event at the park knew that—no one under eighteen was admitted, something Angela had noticed as they’d gotten into line for the ride.
Probably a good thing, though she assumed there were plenty of sixteen-year-olds borrowing IDs from their friends.
It was right up the alley for a teenager!
“So?” Jackson asked.
“Our poor Deidre would be appalled,” Angela said.
“As we learned before in Ireland!” he reminded her softly.
“But . . . I guess it’s a hell of a scary ride for some.
And theme parties everywhere like to go for the scare, especially when it’s around Halloween.
Gotta admit, I haven’t seen a lot of horror rides planned for St. Patrick’s Day, but then who knows who does what where if you’re not in the area. ”
“Too true . . . but . . .” Angela said thoughtfully.
“But?”
She smiled at him. “If I were planning a ride like this, I’d have the banshee greeting the young lady in the coffin gently, giving her love and comfort and telling her that she was going to be okay!”
Jackson laughed. “That’s because you know a few banshees!” he reminded her.
She groaned softly and looked toward the children’s playground. “Speaking of banshees, Deidre is here—with Zach and Skye! They must have found it, found the old tunnel and made their way here!”
“At the playground, watching the kids on the bouncy thingy; and of course, the leprechauns helping and making sure that the kids play well,” Jackson said. “Let’s go and join them—”
“No need. They saw us. They’re coming here.”
They were indeed. Zach and Skye, with Deirdre unbeknownst by the crowd, were coming toward them.
“You found the tunnel. Great work,” Jackson said as the group arrived.
“Great, icky work,” Skye said, grimacing.
“But she saw the leprechaun carrying the girl here!” Zach said. “The tunnel lets out in back of the haunted house things, whatever that is.”
“We just went in it,” Angela said quickly. “There’s no reason for us to do it again. If we’re looking for a leprechaun—”
“We checked the kids’ play area. None of the ‘leprechauns’ watching over the kids there is our leprechaun,” Skye assured them.
“Mini golf,” Jackson said. “I’ll get in line for our clubs and balls, and we can play and give you a chance to study the leprechauns there.”
“That looks fun. Wish I could play!” Deidre told them. “And . . . well, I’m not going to be much help. I wasn’t there. If only I had been! Well, I couldn’t have stopped what happened, but I’d be able to tell you how to move forward!”
“It’s okay. You are helping us,” Angela assured her. It was Skye, of course, who had helped them the most. Her talent was so unique. It was good to have “The Crows” on board with the Krewe. More than good; more than they had ever hoped.
“So, putt-putt with leprechauns,” Zach said as they followed Jackson who paid for their entry as they all picked out their clubs and different colored balls.
A leprechaun was selling tickets.
And a leprechaun was helping customers choose clubs and balls.
But Skye shook her head. Neither of them was the leprechaun who had taken off with Colleen Donegal.
And so they played mini golf. Leprechauns were running around here, there, and everywhere.
“Most of our leprechauns are women,” Angela noted.
“Because there just aren’t that many men who are five feet and under?” Zach suggested.
“True, though, I’ve noticed that it’s after school time; and I think some of our leprechauns may not even be old enough for the haunted house,” Skye observed. She shrugged.
Angela took a swing at her ball.
Horrible.
She just wasn’t good at this. She winced as the others took turns.
Jackson had just nailed a ball through one of the holes—a tunnel beneath a pixie cuddling a shamrock—when Skye suddenly gasped.
“Our leprechaun!” Skye told them.
“Where?” Jackson asked.
Skye pointed across the field. Jackson dropped his mallet and started in the direction, toward the “leprechaun” that Skye had pointed to.
But the leprechaun saw him and turned, starting to run. Run hard behind the haunted house.
Naturally, they all tore after the leprechaun.
There was a tangle of woods behind the haunted attraction.
It was while she headed out on the chase that Angela saw Deidre was looking at the haunted house.
“Deidre, don’t! Don’t go in there!” she called.
The banshee was still, but she turned to stare at Angela and smile.
Angela raced on. She made her way through a twist of trees and heard a sudden shout of warning. Bursting into a clearing, she saw Skye had come upon the leprechaun.
And the leprechaun was armed.
At the same time, she looked backwards quickly to see if Jackson and Zach were near.
Instead, she saw the banshee heading into the haunted house.
And she looked for Zach and Jackson again.
Because she knew that she should be heading after their banshee.
*