Fred Aiken Writing

The Ferris wheel loomed like a giant sentinel against the dusk, its neon lights slicing through the twilight sky. The carnival was alive with a cacophony of sounds: the relentless chatter of families, the clanging of game bells, the shrill laughter of children. Sophie stood on the outskirts, her senses bombarded by the smell of deep-fried dough and the metallic tang of aging rides. She hadn’t been back to this town in a decade, not since the accident that had shattered her youth.

Now, she was here on a mission. As a fugitive recovery agent for a bail bonds agency, Sophie had seen all kinds of people running from their pasts. But this time, it was different. This time, the fugitive was Jake—a ghost from her own past.

Her eyes scanned the crowd, searching for the familiar face she hadn’t seen in years. She adjusted her jacket, feeling the comforting weight of her badge and gun. Tonight, she was here to bring someone in, not to reminisce.

The crowd’s noise grew louder near the old roller coaster, the one they used to call the “Bone Rattler.” A group of teenagers clustered around a makeshift boxing ring, where a bare-knuckle fight was underway. The crowd’s roars of approval and dismay filled the air, thick with anticipation and sweat.

Sophie pushed her way through the throng, her eyes locked on the ring. In the center, two fighters circled each other, fists up and eyes locked in a primal dance. One of them, a tall, lean figure, moved with a familiar fluidity. Her heart skipped a beat—it was Jake. He hadn’t changed much, just older, more hardened. The last person she expected to find here, but exactly the person she was looking for.

A fist connected with Jake’s jaw, snapping his head back. The crowd erupted, and Sophie moved closer, her hand instinctively going to her hip where her gun rested. Jake staggered but didn’t fall, his eyes fierce as he launched a counter-attack. The scene played out like a gritty drama, each punch a beat in a violent symphony.

The fight ended abruptly when Jake’s opponent hit the ground and didn’t get up. The referee, a burly man with a beer-stained shirt, called the match. Jake stood there, chest heaving, sweat glistening under the harsh lights. The crowd began to disperse, the thrill of the fight giving way to the next spectacle.

Sophie pushed her way to the front, her eyes locked on Jake. 

“Sophie,” he said, his voice rough from exertion. “What are you doing here?”

She didn’t waste any time. “Jake, you know why I’m here. You skipped bail.”

His eyes narrowed, a mix of surprise and defiance. “You’re here to take me in?”

“That’s the job,” she replied, her voice steady. “It doesn’t have to get ugly.”

Jake glanced around, the crowd thinning out, leaving them in a bubble of tension. “You think I’m just gonna go quietly?”

“Depends,” she said, her hand still resting on her gun. “Do you want to make a scene?”

He took a step back, eyes darting, calculating his chances. Sophie tensed, ready for him to bolt. But instead, he laughed, a bitter sound. “Always the tough one, huh, Soph?”

“Always,” she said, taking a step closer. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Your call.”

Jake’s eyes softened for a moment, the defiance fading. “I didn’t do it, you know. The robbery—they’re framing me.”

“Save it for the judge,” she replied, her tone hardening. “I’m not here to debate your innocence.”

He sighed, the fight going out of him. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

Sophie nodded, pulling out the handcuffs. She stepped forward, her movements quick and practiced. But just as she reached him, Jake moved. He grabbed her wrist, twisting it, and for a moment, they were locked in a struggle, their past clashing with the present.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” she grunted, trying to free herself.

Jake’s grip tightened, his eyes pleading. “Soph, listen to me. I didn’t do it. You know me.”

Sophie hesitated, the weight of their shared history pressing down on her. In that moment of hesitation, Jake broke free, shoving her back and running into the darkness of the carnival.

“Dammit!” she cursed, taking off after him.

The chase was a blur of flashing lights and dodging bodies. Jake weaved through the crowd with the ease of someone who had been running his whole life. Sophie followed, her determination fueling each step.

They reached the edge of the carnival, where the lights faded and the sounds grew softer. Jake stumbled, his pace slowing, and Sophie tackled him to the ground. They wrestled in the dirt, years of pent-up emotions spilling out in a flurry of fists and shouts.

Finally, Sophie managed to pin him, cuffing his hands behind his back. They both lay there, panting, the night sky stretching endlessly above them.

“Why’d you have to make it so damn difficult?” she muttered, hauling him to his feet.

Jake looked at her, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and resignation. “You wouldn’t have believed me anyway.”

“Maybe not,” she admitted, leading him back towards the carnival lights. “But running didn’t help your case.”

As they walked, the carnival continued its relentless march around them, oblivious to their drama. Sophie felt the weight of her badge and the years of history between them. It wasn’t the reunion she had expected, but it was the one she got.

And as they stepped into the light, Sophie knew that some things would never be the same, but at least they could finally face the future, whatever it might hold.