My second year of college, about a month after I’d finished that second draft of Intrepid, my friends and I took a trip to Shreveport, to the Louisiana State Fair. I wrote about it in my journal, so I still have details I’d have otherwise forgotten. There was a haunted house, a ride called the Matterhorn, the Time Tunnel, the Tunnel of Fear, a double Ferris wheel, and a German Show. I’m not sure what the German Show was. They had booths where shooting air guns or tossing balls could win you a stuffed animal or a mirrored picture of a Def Leppard album cover. There were drink stands, cotton candy stands, and places that sold caramel apples. Then there was Dr. Blood’s Exhibition of Fear.
Dr. Anton Blood, aka Drew Hunter, was a local entertainer who was famous for his spooky thrills. He managed a group called the Gaslight Players which is still around in some form. I remember seeing him interviewed on a local news show called Kaleidoscope by a woman named Opal Wilcox. The Dr. Blood character resembled the Phantom of the Opera. I don’t think I ever saw Blood himself, but he had a cadre of ghouls in black opera capes and facepaint who roamed the grounds scaring the people who stood in line. They skulked around and stared at the guests without speaking. Children hid behind their parents as they drew near. Guides in faux British accents led us through dark mazes and into scenes that were like short acts in a play. They usually ended up with something jumping out at you just before the lights went down and the guide hurried you out of the room. That year, the theme was phobias: the fear of death, the fear of the dark, etc. In one room, we saw what looked like a real woman staring into a crystal ball. The guide told us she was trying to contact the dead. “But is it wise?” she asked. “Is it safe?” Then a monster came in and pulled the fortune teller’s head off. We went into a child’s room in the dark. The toys began to move, and the closet door creaked open. “But we know there is no real danger here,” the guide said. Then someone grabbed her through the window, and she hurried us into the closet. In another room, a chained lunatic broke loose and leaped into the audience. One last run through the maze, and we were back at the fair. Country music played from one stage, gospel from another, and it seemed like a good time for a caramel apple. Then it was off to look at some exotic snakes.
The first drafts of Intrepid Force didn’t include a carnival, but DeFalco’s futuristic expo plays a central role in the draft I published. A show in which two teams of stage superheroes with gadgets seemed like a great way to bring the team together for an origin story. There was more to it than that though. The Expo was a conglomeration of many great amusement experiences in my life. Miracle Strip Amusement Park in Panama City, Florida, was part of the mix. Mr. Dark’s Pandemonium Carnival from Ray Bradbury’s Something Wicked This Way Comes is in the DNA somewhere. Disney World and Six Flags are in there too. When this time of year rolls around, though, I think about the State Fair and old Dr. Blood’s famed exhibition. My bad guys in opera capes emerged, in part, from a bad dream my friend Ivan told me about, but there’s something of Dr. Blood’s minions in them too. They’re who I always pictured when I wrote about them.
(The link to the Amazon page where Intrepid Force is sold is https://www.amazon.com/Intrepid-Force-Timothy-D-Wise/dp/0972554904/ref=sr_1_5?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1509361367&sr=1-5. It’s available in both print and Kindle editions.)
