Page 91 of Ring Rust

“Can you take a break?” Ryan asked, snapping a bit of rosemary off and tossing it in the bowl.

“I think I could be convinced, if there’s something in it for me.”

Ryan grinned. “There is. Get your coat.”

Jasper had driventhis route about thirty thousand times in his life, so he knew where they were headed. Knowing that didn’t help him understand why, exactly, they were there. Last he’d seen, the park was looking great, and there was certainly no reason to go see it at eight in the evening in the middle of winter.

When they pulled into a parking spot, Ryan got out of the car, but Jasper stayed put. Ryan started talking as he walked towards the park, stopping when he noticed Jasper hadn’t moved.

“You coming?” Ryan asked.

Jasper crossed his arms. “You’re being very secretive. It’s making me nervous.”

“There’s nothing to be nervous about. You wanted to know what I was doing when I got hurt. I’m going to show you, I just think it deserves to be seen, not told.”

Jasper looked up at the park, hoping their destination would become immediately clear.

“I don’t like surprises,” Jasper said, catching up to Ryan’s long strides.

“I dunno if that’s true.”

“Well, I don’t like this surprise.”

“You will. Just trust me,” Ryan said, reaching his hand out. Jasper threaded their fingers together and let Ryan guide him, surrendering to his curiosity.

After Ryan pointed out a few things he and Logan had fixed since the last time Jasper was at the park, they headed towards the very far corner. The carousel came into view through the trees as they walked, surprising him, because it had been a long time since it caught his attention for any reason other than misery and shame. As much as he loved it, he preferred not to pay too much attention to it—the paint was chipped and the panels around the center were sun bleached, despite being in the middle of the woods. Algae and moss grew in the grooves of the roof, impossible to clean easily because of its shape. Worst of all, the carousel animals, the only part that still looked cared for, were juxtaposed against the rest of the ride, making its neglect even more obvious.

This time, something different caught his eye. But before he could get closer, a hand wrapped around Jasper’s face, covering his eyes. “Keep them closed.”

“Okay,” Jasper said. He squeezed his eyes shut, smiling as he felt Ryan breeze by him. He could feel Ryan’s energy, all restlessness and barely-contained excitement. It was infectious. “Hurry up, now I’m excited.”

There were sounds of a door closing and dry leaves rustling, then the smell of Ryan’s spearmint gum wafting by.

“Okay. You can look.”

Jasper opened his eyes and blinked a few times. It took him a few seconds to make sense of what he was looking at. Ryan was already twenty feet away, crouched with an extension cord in hand. Then the string lights came alive, winding through the trees around the carousel, and everything in Jasper’s vision narrowed to where Ryan was clearly hoping he’d look.

The carousel he knew was gone. In its place was the carousel from his youth—clean, bright, and magical, just like it was when his uncle let him ride the Pegasus all alone. Hundreds of soft, white lights wrapped the canopy in a warm glow, reflecting off polished mirrors. The whole thing was freshly painted, returning it to its original playful glory. The carved animals looked less like antiques, and more like a fairy tale come to life. Even the work Jasper did to spruce them up every year or two didn’t manage half of it.

It looked exactly like it did in his memories.

They caught each other’s eyes and Ryan smiled briefly, then cursed under his breath. “I forgot something. One sec.”

Jasper stayed put, taking in the beauty before him. A twinge of guilt tickled his throat from knowing Ryan had spent the last few months doing what amounted to putting lipstick on a pig—literally, if the wooden winged pig’s new makeup was his handiwork. Beautiful on the outside, still broken on the inside. Unless Ryan became a mechanical engineer in the last few months, there was no way he’d know how to approach a repair of this magnitude. But he was still grateful for the effort—the improvements to the exterior were gorgeous.

“Ready?” Ryan yelled from somewhere Jasper couldn’t see.

“I guess so!”

The carousel let out a loud groan, then started to turn, catching Jasper off guard. It moved slowly at first, eventually reaching a steady speed Jasper had forgotten it was capable of. Its cheerful song played clearly, unbroken by the usual scrape and shudder of failing parts. He stayed put, watching the animals make their full rotations, and the only catch Jasper felt was the tug in his chest as he looked towards Ryan.

He ran to the edge of the platform as the carousel continued spinning, hesitating for just a second before jumping, using the pole of the winged pig to pull himself up. He moved between acouple horses and ducked as he passed under a dragon’s chin, trying to get to where Ryan was. The inside of the platform was moving too quickly for him to safely jump down and he paused, rubbing his forehead and looking for a solution. Ryan’s smiling face passed in front of him a few times, both of them laughing at the absurdity of the moment, until the carousel finally came to a stop.

He stepped down and entered the operator control room inside the center of the carousel. It was a mostly empty, closed space, with soft lighting pouring in from outside. It would have been romantic, but it was cramped and dusty, and Jasper really wanted to see Ryan’s face.

Grabbing Ryan’s good hand, Jasper stepped onto the platform, dragging him to the bench seat, newly decorated with mermaids and starfish.

“Mermaids?” Jasper said, smiling. His heart was racing, and he didn’t even know why.