Page 129 of A World Apart
“Please.” He turned, presenting the broad expanse of his back to me where the wires of the lights were tangled in the fabric. I deftly untangled them before testing the battery pack for good measure. As the lines of his body lit up like a Christmas tree, he laughed in delight.
“This is so cool. Thank you for getting this.”
I smoothed my hands over his back. To straighten the fabric, obviously.
“You’re welcome. Shall we go now?” I looked down at my watch. “It might take us a while to get there in traffic.”
“Where is it?”
“In West Hollywood.”
“West Hollywood?” He turned around to face me and waggled his eyebrows at me. “I have very fond memories of that area.”
“Me too, so let’s go make some more.” I lightly shoved him towards the door, making sure to grab my backpack and his mask on the way out. Jihoon chuckled, the sound warming my heart.
Chapter 40
We decided on taking the bus, instead of an Uber as the app was showing wait times similar to the bus journey anyway. I'd asked Jihoon what he’d rather do, and I guessed that the mask made him brave, because the idea of taking a bus in LA in the middle of the day seemed somehow exciting to him.
We walked to the stop a few streets over just in time to get the next bus. We sat together and watched the city out of the window, laughing at each other’s silly jokes and pointing out the weird and wonderful things to be seen. Just two aliens in the city of Angels.
We weren’t the only people on the bus in full costume, so we didn’t stand out. I openly admired Conan the Barbarian sitting a few rows over, fully committed to his pelt game, until Jihoon grabbed my face and turned it away, saying, “if you want to stare at a man, stare at me.” I laughed and grabbed his hand in mine.
“I stare at you plenty,” I assured him. His eyes twinkled through the mask obscuring his face.
“As you should.” He squeezed my hand.
We began to hear and see signs of the carnival. The closer we got, it seemed to spill out into the entire surrounding area, so we got off at the next stop, contentto follow the crowd and the pulsing music until we were really in the thick of it. Everywhere we looked, people were dressed up, from the more basic costumes like ours, to one guy dressed as a man-tree-thing, with a sign around his neck/trunk that said, “Don’t forget to take a sip from your trusty Vault 13 canteen.” Obviously, some in-joke I couldn’t decipher, but the man’s makeup was scarily good.
There were bed-sheet ghosts, zombies, creepy dolls, furries, even a whole group of people dressed up a deck of cards, all holding hands as they walked down the street.
There were also costumed dogs everywhere; small dogs, big dogs, dogs in bags, dogs on leads, one dog on a bike.
It was a lot to take in, my eyes didn’t know where to look first. Stalls lined the street, boutique vendors selling everything from Halloween-themed jewellery, bags, clothes, food, to creepy paintings and even an entire stall selling nothing by gas masks.
But through all of the things assaulting my senses, what I was most aware of was the firm grip that Jihoon had on my hand as we walked down the street together, so different from the last time we’d been in public at the flea market. I still remembered how it felt when he’d moved his hand away from mine. I’d understood at the time, as I understood now − the whole ‘just in case’ of the situation, − but man, it had stung.
Now though, he held on to me like he was never letting go. It made my whole body light up brighter than the fluorescents of my costume.
We came upon a small stage − definitely wouldn’t pass a health and safety inspection − constructed mainly out of barrels and pallets, by the looks of it. A band was playing some kind of country-style music, but the kind of band you might have seen playing at a country wedding on the frontier. Four women were really going to town on a guitar, a violin, some kind of drum, and a flute, somehow managing to stomp their boots at the same time. Without giving myself a second pause, I grabbed Jihoon and pulled him into the crowd of people already spinning and dancing along. He didn’t even hesitate, just followed my lead, wound his arm around my waist and together we spun in circles until we were dizzy, laughing so hard I was breathless by the end of the song. As the women bowed, we clapped and yelled our appreciation, but moved on.
Afternoon was progressing as we meandered through the streets, stopping often to look in wonder or confusion. Everywhere we turned there were new and interesting spook-themed attractions, stalls, food and people. We’d eaten so many things, my stomach was fit to bursting. My favourite had been the ghost-shaped bubble waffle with purple ice cream and chocolate sauce. Jihoon and I had shared it whilst we watched a man on stilts dressed as Beetlejuice spit fire.
We’d gone into a scare-maze, just a small one, hastily constructed out of a handful of shipping crates, but it had been the kind with actors that jump out and try to scare you. Jihoon talked a big game, acting like my protector, but the second the Nun from The Conjuring jumped out and brandished her rosary at him, he’d collapsed into a heap of half-Korean-half-English expletives. I laughed so hard I thought I was going to puke that bubble waffle straight back up. Even the Nun had looked a little apologetic.
“No more spook houses,” he said weakly. I just laughed some more.
The sky was darkening to a pretty shade of pinky-orange when we came to a gated park. Signs on the gate announced, ‘Open-Air Horror Movie Screening, $5.’ By this time my feet were starting to ache from all the walking, so I suggested to Jihoon that we go catch a movie. He readily agreed and we headed on in. At the end of a wide-open lawn, a massive, white screen had been erected, alongside a tower of speakers, more of which were dotted back from the screen around the grass. There were already a couple hundred people sat down, talking and laughing while the screen silently displayed a slide-show of various stills from horror movies.
We headed to the nearby stall with a large ‘tickets’ sign above it and handed over our money to a bored looking teenager.
“Look,” Jihoon pointed, “they rent blankets.” A stack of rolled up picnic blankets sat in a big box next to the stall.
I shrugged, “seems like a good idea.” I handed over more notes to the teenager, who had cocked her head and was looking at Jihoon strangely, even though he had his mask pulled down over his entire face. He had alternated throughout the afternoon, lifting it higher up his head to expose his mouth and nose, or pulling it down to his neck to air his forehead, but now he was fully covered up. It was possiblethe teen was just questioning his choice to wear a full mask in in mid-20s sunny weather, but I was also cautious enough to not use his name right there.
“Come on, let’s go pick a space.” I took his hand and together we moved further into the crowd of sitting people until we found a decent spot about half-way in, a speaker pole not too far away. We spread out the blanket on the ground and sat down, the relief of getting off my feet was immediate, and I groaned. Jihoon opened his legs wide enough to pull me in towards him so I could lean back against his firm chest. I sighed contentedly as my senses adjusted to this slower, less overwhelming scene.
It was in this calm, relaxed manner that we passed the time in silence until the movie came on not too long later. The sky was starting to properly darken when the screen flickered to black, and the opening credits began to roll. The distinctive song, ‘Right Red Hand’ blared out across the park, met by a wave of cheers from those sat down, waiting in anticipation, then shushing suddenly as a young, blond Drew Barrymore picks up the ringing phone.
