“Can we? Please?” I press my body against Henry’s arm as I plead.
His blue eyes stare down at me from behind his mask. “Only if you agree to make it interesting.”
“And what does that mean?”
“Highest points wins. Three points for the top basket.”
“Okay. But, fair warning, I’m a pro. I always beat Jed.” His girlfriend having better aim than him became a sore spot in our teenage years, in a small farming town where every boy played some form of ball. I had better aim than most of the other boys too.
“Anything involving Fuckface sets a low bar, but I’m game.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” I say in a singsong voice. “I still have this giant dog from when I was fourteen. It’s two feet …” My voice drifts as we get closer to the booth and I discover there aren’t any stuffed animals hanging on hooks above. Dangling in their place are an array of dildos, vibrators, plugs, and things I can’t identify.
My eyes are wide behind my mask.
“What was that you were saying about a two-foot dog?” Henry hums, pointing at an obscenely long dildo sitting on a display shelf.
“Where would anyone put that?” I exclaim, earning the game host’s soundless laughter.
She bows theatrically and then explains the basic process through a series of gestures, pointing to the triangle of wicker baskets, six in total.
“We’ve got a bet going. Top basket is three points, second row two points, bottom row is one point.” Henry taps his bracelet on a machine. “What does sinking all three balls win you?”
The mime points to the top row of elaborate toys.
“Perfect. Let’s make this really interesting. Winner gets to choose a prize for the loser, and the loser has to use it here, tonight. Sound fair?”
“Of course! I see a plug up there with your name on it,” I tease. That shot, coupled with drinks from earlier tonight, has given me some liquid courage.
“Which one?” he asks casually, unfazed.
“The little one with the silver end. I think that’ll look good in you.” Has Henry ever tried toys on himself? I should know that.
The mime makes a shocked Oh face as she sets out six balls on the counter.
Henry smirks but doesn’t answer. “Alternating shots?”
“Why not.”
He bows and waves his hand, and it’s all the more dramatic in his ringmaster costume. “Ladies first.”
Collecting a ball, I aim for the top, suddenly wishing I’d asked for a practice shot. It’s been a year since I last played. But it’s been fifteen for Henry.
The ball lands in the second row, right basket, circling once before settling.
“Two points for me,” I declare.
The mime jumps up and down, ringing her bell twice.
Henry collects his ball and drops it in top basket with a graceful throw.
Our game host chimes the bell three times with exaggerated glee.
“I think that’s three points to your two, right?” He says.
“Beginners’ luck.”
He smirks. “Your turn.”
I have no choice but to target for the top basket now. I collect my ball, aim, and release with a gentle hand. It swirls several times before settling inside. “Total of five points,” I call out as the bell rings. “Good luck getting the top one again.”
“Did I ever mention that my high school basketball team won the state championship two years in a row?” Henry tosses his ball, and it lands as lightly as the first one did. “And I was the lead scorer?”
I gasp. “You hustled me!”
“No, you assumed I would be terrible at a carnival game, and I didn’t correct you. Excuse me, is that the largest one you have?” he asks the mime, pointing to a strange rainbow-colored toy that reminds me of a unicorn horn.
I’m suddenly nervous. I could lose to Henry. Which of these toys will he make me use? Nothing I wouldn’t enjoy, I trust, but I don’t see how we could possibly use that anywhere here without attracting a lot of notice.
I get my third ball. “How did I not know you played basketball?”
“The same way I had no idea you’ve made an Olympic sport out of bucket ball,” he counters. “Seriously, have you always been this competitive?”
Gritting my teeth as I concentrate, I aim for the top basket again. It loops inside once before rolling out and dropping down into a first-row bucket. The bell rings once.
“Sorry, what’s the score now? I lost track,” Henry taunts.