Lost Pup: The Fools' Circus, #1

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Lost Pup: The Fools' Circus, #1 Page 3

by Dani Rei


  Rex makes it sound like he expects Blake to slay a dragon or something. Of course, joining a circus won’t be easy. The rest of the cast is likely to brush him off until they see what he can do. Pranks and harsh words wouldn’t be much different from middle school. None of that could be worse than roaches, junk-food dinners, and minimum wage.

  A woman’s moan rings through his bedroom wall, muffled, and his roommate breathes some vulgar sweet talk he didn’t need to hear. Cringing, he rustles through his backpack, exchanging the clubs for a pair of earbuds. He sits at his desk, pretending he doesn’t see the wall moving from the corner of his eye, and grabs a pen from the drawer with music on full blast.

  No amount of childish bullying can be worse than that.

  Before he begins writing, his eyes scan the first page. It looks pretty standard. Name, birthdate, address, nothing out of the ordinary. He flips to the second.

  Rule #1 - Never stop improving. The fool gets nowhere by sitting comfortably.

  Rule #2 – Never reveal your location. This is a precaution for everyone, including yourself.

  Rule #3 - Never protest the Fools’ King. And never lose his favor.

  These are your rules for joining The Fools’ Circus. Failure to abide by these rules will lead to contract termination or worse. By signing, you agree to live under Rex’s command, at the mercy of the stage.

  Blake puffs out his cheeks as he fidgets with the pen in his hand, glaring at the page. Victor told him the rules would explain everything, but it doesn’t explain anything. Tell no one where you are? It sounds suspicious, but if everyone had been adopted as children, it might be safer that way after all.

  The song in his headphones ends abruptly just in time for Blake to hear the woman’s climax against the wall, and he growls to himself, scribbling his signature as quickly as possible. He flips back to the first page and proceeds with the boring part of any application.

  It’s a circus, after all. What could happen?

  

  HOW HAS IT ONLY BEEN TWO DAYS? I want to live at the mansion now!

  “I hate to see you go, Blake,” says his boss, a hefty man with a brown mustache and short matching hair. “But I think a road trip will be good for you. Call me when you get home, and I’ll see if I can squeeze you back in somehow.”

  “Great. Thanks, Terry.”

  Blake leaves the office and lets out a sigh of relief. It’s not that Terry is an intimidating boss, but this is Blake’s first time giving two weeks’ notice. That was much easier than he expected. The department store has kept him for a solid five years and was happy to switch him to full time when he dropped out of college.

  He slides his gaze around the store, at the clothes on the racks and signs that label the activewear, dresses, and other clothing categories. Memories of interesting customers and mocking the rude ones with his coworkers flood his mind. Leaving retail is a dream come true, but he never imagined he’d miss it so much, especially not at the very beginning of his last two weeks.

  “Hey, stranger!” calls a sweet voice as Blake takes his place at the register. “How was your weekend off?”

  “It was great,” Blake responds with a smile. Judy is a longtime friend and coworker, and it makes him feel a little guilty that he can’t tell her the good news. “I went to see the circus.”

  “You mean The Fools’ Circus?”

  “Yeah, and it inspired me to take a road trip with some friends of mine. I’d like to perform one day, so I should travel the country and see what I’m up against, don’t you think? I already put in my two weeks’ notice.”

  Judy’s eyes grow wide, and her lips frown. “Why would you go to see that circus?”

  Blake furrows his brow at her.

  “I’m guessing you didn’t know,” says Judy, glancing around for anyone within earshot. “There are rumors about that circus—terrible ones. They say the children were kidnapped and forced to perform for profit. Some say they service pedophiles, and that the owner works with politicians to keep it all quiet. I mean, why else would they hide so much information about themselves?”

  Blake shifts his lower jaw to process her words. “It’d be pretty stupid to put missing children on display like that, don’t you think?”

  “You don’t know what a person in power is capable of.”

  “Oh, I know. I was there for the 2016 election. Besides, you make it sound like I’m joining them. I’m just going on a road trip to check out other plays, circuses, and street performers. I just want to enjoy life for a little bit and see if I have a shot. You can relax. The circus is leaving town anyway.”

  Judy looks a little relieved, but an elderly customer interrupts before she can speak, looking for a dress. Judy leaps to her aid with her best customer-service smile, leaving Blake to clean out the fitting room.

  He knew of those rumors, of course, having been a longtime patron, but hearing them from Judy makes his mind race.

  Tell no one where you are.

  What if those rumors are based in truth, and that’s why Blake can’t tell anyone where he is? He shakes his head. No, that can’t be true, Victor said they were all adopted from nothing. He could’ve been lying. It could be a trap.

  Blake takes in a deep breath, trying to push out these terrifying thoughts to no avail. Those rumors came from somewhere. What exactly is he getting himself into?

  Maybe some dreams are better left unlived.

  Chapter 4

  “M

  Y PRECIOUS FOOLS! I’D like you all to welcome Blake to our home!”

  Rex’s voice booms over the cast and crew gathered in the lobby. Blake’s heart races in his chest. The thought of leaving this dream unlived was a genuine option, but not one he could follow through with. Sorry, Judy.

  “He’s a juggler with impressive skill,” Rex continues. “But he must learn our ways before we can let him on stage. So, who needs a partner? An extra? Who would like to help this lost pup find his way to the stage?”

  Eyes shift back and forth while whispers of confusion and rejection creep around the room. This is exactly what he expected. Even so, his stomach is still churning from it. He breathes slow to hide his trembling as his eyes scan the crowd, looking for some sign of friendliness or a hint of acceptance.

  “Ian,” Rex calls, “you juggle your knives. Why not take over this young man’s learning curve?”

  A bald man scoffs in response, sitting on the floor against the lobby wall with gray sweatpants. A tattoo of a red dragon tearing through his skin covers his left pec. He uses a pocketknife to clean dirt from under his nails.

  “To be honest, Rex, it’s a little upsetting that you would expect your own children to deal with someone like him. I will if I must, but it doesn’t make sense to me. He’s not one of yours, so why should we care?”

  Nods of agreement and shrugs of apathy scatter among the crowd. Blake huffs, no longer bothering to hide his discomfort.

  “It’s okay,” he says to Rex, projecting his voice so everyone can hear. “I’m sure I can figure things out on my own.”

  “Don’t be absurd,” Rex replies. “You have a lot to learn, and you should work with someone you can relate to. Where is Inez?”

  “She’s not here, sir.” Mishkin frowns from his spot on a bench. “You only called this meeting for your children.”

  “Right, how silly of me,” says Rex, patting Blake’s shoulder. “Well, Blake, it appears you’ll be working with our beloved Fire Goddess.”

  “I’ll introduce you,” Mishkin volunteers, lighting up with energy. He grabs Blake’s arm with a smile and pulls Blake away from Rex without another word.

  Blake barely keeps his footing as they rush up the stairs. Even after begging to slow down, Mishkin doesn’t give way.

  At the top of the staircase, Mishkin drops his grip, and Blake rests his hands on his knees to catch his breath before he takes in the view.

  The second floor is a wide hall with doors along either side. Each bears a name
or two on a gold plaque. At the far wall, there’s another staircase curving to a third floor above them. The ceilings are high, with paintings of circus animals emerging from open cages in scenes of inspired chaos. Gold trim wraps the tops of the pillars, bleeding onto the ceiling. Matching trim adorns the bottom, spreading the same patterns into the lower wall. Large windows light the corners, their curtains spread to allow the golden sunset to burst through.

  “There you are, Grump Face!” Mishkin calls to the young woman waiting for them with crossed arms just a few feet from the stairs. Her brown eyes narrow under her short, bottle-red hair, the shade of a strawberry.

  “I know you heard the announcement. Say hello to our newest fool!”

  Blake smiles at Inez, and another surge of excitement runs through him. “It’s nice to meet you! I loved your Fairy Godmother role in Cinderella! You were beautiful!”

  “I know you,” says Inez. “You’re that guy who juggles before the show. Just what are you trying to pull by coming here?”

  Blake’s smile disappears as quickly as it came, prompting him to scramble through his mind for words, any words, to explain himself. He looks around at the other members going to their rooms or hesitating on the stairs. All eyes are on the trio, filling the halls with giggles and whispers.

  “It was Hartman’s suggestion,” Mishkin says, taking a step in front of Blake. “He thinks Blake would be an excellent addition. And frankly, Miss Ice Queen, I agree with him.”

  Inez glares at Blake again before she takes a deep breath and gives Mishkin a soft smile. He isn’t sure why, but this is more discomfiting than her glare.

  “Mishkin, leave us alone for a second. If I’m going to mentor this guy, he should get to know me a little better.”

  Blake swallows thickly as he quietly begs Mishkin not to leave. He shudders when Mishkin walks off with a grin.

  “Go easy on him.”

  Blake can almost hear each second ticking by as Mishkin disappears down the stairs. Inez grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him closer. Her searing gaze has already burned itself into Blake’s nightmares, and though she’s about half a foot shorter than him, he can swear she grew at least three feet taller.

  “Listen, you spoiled little brat! I get enough bullshit without having some lost puppy following me around! You better learn quick, and then leave me the hell alone, got it? Don’t expect me to be your fucking mother!”

  “Okay! Okay, I get it! I’ll learn quick!”

  Inez shoves Blake away from her, and he struggles to keep his balance.

  “Look,” says Blake, fixing his shirt, “I don’t know what everyone’s problem is, but can you tell me yours? You don’t even know me, and you’re acting like I’m here to undermine you somehow. Do you even know my name?”

  The fire on Inez’s face cools as she looks away. “I know your name; it just doesn’t matter. We all know you’re here because you got on Hartman’s good side. You’re just a pampered pup who ran away from home. You aren’t family.”

  Blake’s heart drops in his chest. He expected to be an outcast until he earned everyone’s respect, but why would they despise him this much already?

  Inez groans, rolling her eyes as if she knows what he’s thinking. “Don’t take it personal, okay? It’s just...weird. Usually when people come here, it isn’t because they’re lucky. And,” Inez shuffles in her spot, growling as her cheeks turn pink and turning her head to hide it. “It’s not like we hate you or anything. So don’t get all weepy and shit, okay, Pup?”

  Blake bites his tongue to force back a smile as bodies hurry past them from their bedrooms.

  “Dinnertime,” says Inez, leading the way back downstairs, still hiding her face in her hair. “Come on.”

  “Wait, me too?” Blake asks, keeping close behind.

  “Yeah, stupid. You live here now.”

  “So, everyone here eats together?”

  “Mostly. Some eat in their rooms, and sometimes people go out. The point is, we have the option. I usually sit at the table with Mishkin and a few others.”

  Blake pauses, taking a second to reflect on the one person who had shown him any kindness since arriving—albeit unsettling kindness. “He’s an interesting character. I thought the cat stuff was just for the stage.”

  “Nope, he made himself catlike on purpose. That’s why his title is Stray Cat.”

  A warm smell fills Blake’s nose as they reach the bottom of the staircase, making his stomach growl.

  Two people walk by, and Blake catches his breath. A tall man with dark skin and dreadlocks that hang over muscled arms is walking beside a woman with skin as pale as porcelain. Her head barely reaches his shoulder, and their fingers are intertwined. A powder blue dress falls just over her knees in lacy frills, and long white waves hang to the center of her back. She smiles at Blake with lavender eyes and black framed glasses. They’re both attractive, and that almost makes him shocked they didn’t play the leads in the last show. Or any show, for that matter.

  A weight fills Blake’s chest. He’d seen this woman on stage as a child and didn’t notice when she disappeared. The man is a tightrope walker who played one of the prince’s soldiers in the last show. What was his title? It’s been years since Rex has announced anyone at the show.

  The thought slips away as Blake tosses his gaze around, and a giddy smile creeps onto his face. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, doing his best to keep his smile from getting too wide.

  All around him, he’s recognizing their faces from their roles in Cinderella, remembering the talents they had as kids and the magic they create now.

  He hasn’t learned their names yet, since Rex gave them all titles, but seeing the faces makes him feel like he landed in the center of Hollywood.

  “Hey, Pup,” Inez sighs, “do us both a favor, try not to gush over everyone you meet here, okay? You’re one of us now, and you’ll be joining us on stage next season.”

  “Right, sorry.”

  The two grab their plates, and the buffet table is making Blake’s mouth water. So many options for proteins and sides. Inez grabs a steak for herself and hands him the tongs. He pulls a thick steak under the label “medium rare” and plops it onto his plate, surprised by its size. He looks at Inez to make sure this is okay. She signals him to hurry, and he rushes to grab mashed potatoes, mixed vegetables, and a roll.

  They’re making their way to the table when Mishkin finds them. “Hey guys! I already put my plate down. Blake, come sit next to me! Did you meet my husband Vladik yet? He’s been right behind you the whole time!”

  “No, I didn’t realize.” Blake turns with a smile to where Mishkin is gesturing. “Hi, it’s nice to...meet... you.”

  Mishkin and Inez stifle their laughter while Blake takes a minute to process what he’s seeing. A rock wall trying to break through navy fabric? No, this is a person. He looks up to see a pale man with a golden beard and bald head smiling down at him.

  “Vladik here is our strong man,” Mishkin says.

  “You don’t say,” Blake responds with a tremble in his voice. He recognizes the man’s face, but the stage doesn’t do his size justice.

  “Dobroe vecher,” says Vladik. His voice is soft and friendly, but it carries so much strength that it startles Blake.

  “Ah! I’m sorry, I don’t understand!”

  “Good evening,” Vladik says in a thick Russian accent. “Do forgive. My English is no good.”

  Blake smiles with a sigh of relief. “That’s alright. I’m glad to meet you!”

  The group sets their plates down and settles into their seats. Blake watches the others dig into their food before he musters up the courage to cut a piece of his own. Is this really okay? He takes the first bite of his steak and chews slowly, his eyes closing to appreciate the flavor—real flavor. A smoky roasted garlic with a black pepper undertone and a hint of vinegar. The taste lingers on his tongue even after he finishes the bite. Delicious!

  He watches Inez intera
ct with Mishkin from across the table, and she doesn’t seem as scary anymore. Vladik isn’t saying much, but when Mishkin makes a vulgar joke, his face turns bright red, and Inez stifles her laughter to avoid choking on her food. Vladik’s eyes beg Mishkin to take things down a notch, and Blake laughs along as Mishkin loops him into the conversation. Inez’s mood has lightened, and she speaks to Blake as if they’d known each other for years.

  Good food, warm laughter, and not a single roach in sight. Blake hasn’t felt this at home since his birth mother was alive. Maybe the thought should make him sad, but he’s enjoying it too much.

  Can you see this, Mom? I’m one of them now.

  Chapter 5

  T

  he audience seems thrilled to have Blake on stage. The applause is deafening as he and the others whip and throw their bodies into beautiful dance poses, tossing clubs back and forth between each other while the acrobats whoosh through the air above them.

  Inez and Mishkin whirl around the floor, twirling staffs with flames on either end. Blake has never juggled so vigorously in his life, and his clubs seem to float through the air until he catches them. The patterns and shapes are like nothing he’s ever practiced, surprising even himself.

  As their routine ends and the clubs stop moving, the audience booms into a standing ovation. Triumphant music blasts through the speakers in the background as Inez grabs his hand and lifts it to take a bow with him. This is all too good to be true!

  Blake’s eyes blink open, and he gasps as he sits up, darting his gaze around the cream-colored walls and unfamiliar furniture, in a room much larger than his at home. What is this place?

  His eyes land on his unpacked suitcase, and he lets out a heavy sigh of relief as the events of the day before return to his memory.

 

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