by Tess Oliver
“Enchantress!” Bodhi called from the porch.
I got up, walked to the screen door and looked out. Charli backed off the throttle, and the bike sputtered out. She pulled off her helmet and goggles and climbed off the motorcycle. She was wearing strange looking pants and black boots, like something wealthy women wore while riding their expensive horses. She glimpsed me behind the screen. A smile brightened her face, and I was quickly reminded why my willpower had crumbled so easily.
I stepped onto the porch. “Bodhi, Noah, go on. Get out of here.”
“Christ almighty, Jacks, if we’re inside you tell us to go out, and if we’re outside, you tell us to go in.”
“I don’t care which direction you go, just get the hell off this porch.”
With grunting protests, they got up and walked inside.
Charli hung her helmet on the motorcycle and pushed the goggles down to her neck. “Just came by to apologize.”
I shook my head. “No need. I deserved it. It was none of my business.”
She stepped closer. All I could think about was pulling her into my arms.
“I’m glad you were making it your business. You were worried about me. I guess I’m not used to that. No one has really worried about me since my mother died.” She stared down at the ground and kicked at a small rock with her black boot. “You were right,” she said so quietly the sound was nearly lost by the leaves rustling in the trees. She lifted her face to me. The concern in her expression assured me she knew what was going on. “Buck’s got himself in a real mess.” She drew in a breath as if she was holding back a sob. “Emma’s missing. We can’t find her anywhere.” Tears pooled in her eyes. “I think Buck knows something but he’s not saying.”
I walked down the steps and stopped in front of her.
“I think everything, Emma’s fate and the entire fate of the carnival is on the edge of a steep cliff,” she sobbed.
I pulled her into my arms. She pressed her face against my shirt.
“Everything will be fine,” I said confidently, even though I wasn’t sure if anything would turn out well. “Gideon will fight Hector, and Buck will get the money he needs to pay off Griggs.”
She wiped at her tears and took a steadying breath. “I’m sorry I crumpled. It’s just been such an awful day, what with Emma missing and having to fend off Griggs.”
I took hold of her shoulders. “What do you mean fend off Griggs?” Blood pounded in my ears. “Did he come after you? Did he touch—”
“No, it’s fine. Griggs didn’t get near me. My long, scaly friend saw to that. He was conveniently draped around my shoulders when Griggs found me. But what you said was true. I can’t believe that Buck would have used me as collateral in his gambling debt. Stepfather or not, I will never forgive him.”
Chapter 18
Charli
With Emma still missing, Rose had been far too distraught to perform. The burlesque show had been cancelled, causing an almost irate tantrum with some of the carnival attendees. But the promise of a well-matched fight between two iron-fisted giants helped smooth their anger.
One thing I was certain of— Buck knew something about Emma’s disappearance. My theory was that Griggs was holding Emma as collateral, a ransom of sorts. She was his until Buck paid off his debt. The sad thing about it was, Buck could probably have cared less. Money was far more important to him than any one of his many performers. Even me. Once realized, that hideous truth had made me sick to my stomach. All this time, I’d been telling myself that Buck occasionally made unpopular decisions, but that they were all for the good of the carnival. He wanted to keep us all with tents over our heads and food in our bellies. But it hadn’t been about his carnival troupe at all. He didn’t care about the Starfield Traveling Show. He cared about filling his pockets and his oversized gut. The only real concern in his circle of greed was satisfying his own needs.
“Are you ready?” I called in between the tent flaps. “If we don’t go now, we won’t be able to get inside. The line is around the tent and halfway up the midway.” I stepped into the tent. Rose was sitting on her cot looking nearly sick with worry. All morning, she had wavered between wanting to see the fight and not wanting to even hear the sounds coming from inside.
“Maybe you shouldn’t go, Rose. You look awful.”
She shook her head. “Nope, I’ll be fine. I want to be there for Gideon. And poor Emma.” She covered her face. I sat next to her and put my arm around her shoulder. Rose and Emma spent a good portion of the day arguing about things, but they loved each other like sisters.
“Rose, I’m sure she’s fine.” I gave a short laugh. “We both know Emma was sweet on one of those stern looking men who are always standing around Griggs. She’s probably having way more fun than us right now.” My words and tone weren’t the least bit convincing. Even though men were Emma’s top priority, something deep down, a cold feeling of dread, kept taking hold of me when I thought about what might be happening to her.
The sky above was a crisp blue, but at the moment, it felt like black clouds had drifted in and cast a cold shadow over the carnival. Nothing felt right. Even the calliope sounded out of tune. My own performance was a good three hours away. I didn’t look forward to it. With everything that was going on, the notion of putting on a thrilling stunt show was daunting.
Rose and I slid past the long line of spectators waiting to get into the tent. The workers had opened the flaps, and people, mostly men, streamed inside, hurrying to get the best seats on the risers. The way the fight ring was positioned, the best views were along the bottom row of seats, situated directly around the ring, and the very top row of risers, where if you were tall enough you could see over the heads. Of course, if the fight was exciting enough, everyone would eventually be on their feet. Then visibility was impossible unless you were over six feet tall. I glanced quickly around for my six foot plus friend but didn’t see him. I could only assume he was in the back helping his brother get ready.
Rose and I knew the spot where we had the best chance of a view and the least chance of getting trampled or crushed if things got wild. With this fight, and with all the money attached to it, we could easily expect things to get out of control. She held tightly to my hand like a small child not wanting to get swept away by the crowd. I held just as tightly to hers. Rose and I were completely out of place amongst the loud, somewhat smelly, crush of spectators. Everyone seemed to be lit on moonshine and excited about the prospect of winning money. The words strongman and crusher were being smacked back and forth like the ball at a tennis match. Sloppy slaps on shoulders and plenty of cuss words made their way around the ring. People were asked to extinguish smokes outside because of fire hazard, but tobacco still lingered in the air, whether it wafted off clothing or from secret puffs on cigarettes, it made the air that much more stifling.
The long benches wobbled and rattled as heavy work boots and big bellied men climbed to the top to get a good view.
“Do you know who people are betting on?” I asked as Rose and I squished close enough to take up only one space on the riser.
Rose wrapped her arm around mine and rested her head against my shoulder. “I hear the bets are leaning toward Hector. He’s undefeated, after all. I know Buck expects Gideon to win, so that must be where his money is.” She made a sound that was halfway between a sigh and a groan. “My stomach is swirling like butter in a churn. It would be different if this was something Gideon had chosen to do. Oh, Charli, what will happen to Emma if Gideon loses? What will happen to all of us? I will never talk to Buck again. Never. If he gets an unfriendly grunt from me on pay day then that will be too much.” She lifted her head. “If something happens to Gideon—”
I patted her leg. “Don’t worry about that. You’ve seen the man fight. Besides, poor Hector is tired. He’s been fighting for days. I just hope Gideon goes easy on him.”
Joey, our tent builder, had also become the referee for the fights. He looked tense with his mouth
drawn tight beneath his golden moustache as he climbed into the ring. Just like the rest of the carnival workers, Joey knew that this was no ordinary fight. News, especially bad news, traveled fast in a close community where we all traveled together, slept in neighboring tents and met for dinner under the stars. Word, and dark moods, had spread quickly that Buck had gambled himself into a hole . . . again. It wasn’t the first time, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. But this time he owed someone who seemed to have no conscience when it came to collecting debt. Emma’s abrupt disappearance was proof of that. The problem was none of us knew exactly how ruthless Griggs really was. In our hearts, we hoped that all this would end, the man would collect what Buck owed him and sweet, dreamy-minded Emma would be delivered back to us, unharmed and hopefully not heartbroken over a gangster.
On the opposite side of the tent, Jackson’s head emerged from behind the canvas. My heart immediately skipped ahead of its usual pace. His blue eyes scanned the crowd and landed on me. I lifted a hand and gave a short wave. He temporarily erased my grim mood with that perfect crooked smile, then he disappeared again.
I sighed and tightened my hold on Rose. “Do you ever think about what it would be like to plant your feet solidly in one place again? You know, have a home with a husband.” As soon as the word husband left my mouth, I wanted to pull it back in. Rose sensed it.
“It’s all right, Charli. You can stop tiptoeing around the subject. It hasn’t been easy, and my heart still has a lot of mending to do. Paul will always be a part of me. But I’m still alive. And he’s not. I need to think about a future. That’s my long answer to your question. I think about it every day, Charli. Every darn day.” She lifted her neck and looked over the bobbing heads. “That cream is turning to butter again. There’s that gangster and his men. It must be time for the fight to start.”
Buck’s round face appeared in the crowd. Spectators parted to let the big man through. He looked somehow older than he had just the morning before, as if the stress of this had aged him overnight. With some difficulty, he climbed between the ropes of the ring. He took a stumbling step toward the center.
“My god, the man is pickled,” Rose said. “How dare he walk into that ring bleary-eyed and with so much at stake.”
Rose’s words circled round my head as I stared at the man who had been my only parent since my mother’s death. There was no question he was drunk, but beneath the liquor-coated veneer, I saw a crestfallen man. He’d gone too far this time. His lust for the gaming tables had pushed him to the cliff’s edge, and he was hanging on by just his fingertips.
Chapter 19
Jackson
The carnival strongman with his short white hair and equally bleached moustache looked almost like a caricature in a book. He was massive and powerful. The man could plow his own fields without an ox or a horse. Even Gideon, the biggest man in Harper’s Cross, looked small and insignificant next to Hector.
I stood near the corner of the ring to tend to Gideon in between bells. There was plenty of spit and some puddles of blood on the canvas tarp below their feet, but the two raging behemoths were putting on a damn good show. Aside from Bodhi and Noah, I knew only a few faces in the crowd, people Gideon and I had grown up with. I was sure they’d placed money on the Crusher. But the rest were out-of-towners, from across the bridges mostly, college kids on summer break and businessmen from the Hill. They’d come to see the undefeated champion, Hector, knock out the tough local boy. I had to hand it to Griggs, in less than a day, he’d managed to stir up huge publicity about the fight. Rumor had it the bookies couldn’t keep up with the bets.
The bell clanged and both men staggered to their corners. Gideon landed on the stool like a bag of sand. I grabbed a cup of water from the bucket. He lifted his swollen hand to bring it to his mouth. He winced as the cup hit the gash on the side of his mouth. He leaned his head back and poured in the water to let it cascade down his throat, draining the cup before handing it back to me for a refill. Even in between rounds, the roar in the tent was deafening. I had to lean closer to hear Gideon speak.
“Fuck. Now I know why he’s the goddamn strongman. Maybe I need one of those fucking leopard print outfits. What was that movie we saw in Arlington? Tarzan. I want to be fucking Tarzan.” He was rambling, something my brother did when he was tense or when he’d taken too many blows to the head. This time, I was sure it was both. He swallowed some of the water and then turned to spit most of it back out, spraying several of the spectators.
“Hey, watch that, you losing pig” one of them sneered.
Gideon stood so fast the stool flew out of the ring. The man who’d called him a pig, blanched white beneath Gideon’s glare. I climbed through the ropes and put my hand on Gideon’s shoulder to calm him. It didn’t work. He waved his big arm in a half circle. “This is the fucking spit zone, so beware.” He spun back around so fast, he swayed back into the rope. The tension in the rope bounced him back to his feet.
“You ready for more, Crusher?” I asked enthusiastically.
He pounded his gloves together. From beneath swollen lids, he stared at his opponent across the mat. “Fuck, that man is big. But I’m ready.”
“Hey, brother, let’s end this, huh? I think you’ve had enough.”
He nodded and swayed forward enough that I had to stretch my arm out to stop him from falling on his face.
“You’re right. I’ve had enough.” His shoulders straightened. He drew in a steadying breath before stepping back into the center.
The bell clanged, and the roars went from deafening to explosive. I glanced across to the risers where Charli and Rose clung to each other like two bunnies in the middle of a pack of hungry dogs. Rose looked pale and nearly sick. Charli didn’t look much better.
It seemed that my little pep talk had bolstered Gideon some. He went at the white haired giant with fists swinging. A good solid hook to the chin sent the strongman stumbling backward. The ropes nearly snapped beneath his weight.
A group of spectators pooled their strength and shoved him back upright. He shook his head, and a tooth came flying from his mouth. Gideon lunged at him, not giving him enough time to recover. He pummeled the man until Hector dropped to his knees. The crowd grew angry. The bulk of the bets fell on the strongman’s side. That was the way Griggs had planned it. One thing Griggs hadn’t counted on was Hector refusing to take a dive, even if it meant the carnival was on the line. I’d been wrapping Gideon’s hands in back of the tent when we overheard Griggs telling Buck that his ‘carnival sideshow freak better cooperate or he’d burn the whole fucking place to the ground’. Hector was probably the closest match my brother had ever had in a fight, but I still had faith that Gideon would eventually lay him flat. I just hoped, for Gideon’s sake, eventually was sooner rather than later.
A deep, guttural roar rolled across the ring, and Hector pushed to his feet. He was disoriented and bloodied, but he came at Gideon like an angry bull with his ass on fire. My brother took a step back. I’d never seen him move away from anyone. But this wasn’t just anyone. This was a beast. He nailed Gideon once. Even through the thunderous cheers of the crowd, I heard Gideon’s solid grunt of pain. He stumbled back but managed somehow to stay upright. The muscles in his back and arms tightened into long hard ridges, and he flew at Hector. Now it was the beast’s turn to step back. Gideon shot a left and a right and a left again. The posts holding the ropes around the arena bent down like thin trees in a wind storm as Hector’s body bounced off the ropes. He managed to get his giant feet beneath him, but it seemed he was seeing stars.
Fists were in the air. Everyone was yelling for their man to take the other down.
One solid punch would send the giant to the mat. “Now’s your chance, Gideon,” I yelled. “Knock him out.” But Gideon’s attention had been drawn outside the ring. I followed the direction he was looking. Even though the clamor and enthusiasm in the tent hadn’t subsided, an unnatural clearing had formed around the outside of the ropes. In
stead of spectators pushing forward, crushing each other in an attempt to get near the ropes, an open path circled the ring. It was the snake charmer, the petite little woman who Charli had mentioned was Hector’s girlfriend. Her partner, Rusty the snake, was draped around her shoulders.
My eyes shot back to the ring. Hector had shaken off the haze in his head.
“Gideon, watch out!” I yelled, but it was useless. His attention was on the snake. From the angle I sat, I saw the massive fist plowing right toward my brother’s face. A giant, simultaneous gasp, strong enough to temporarily suck in the canvas walls of the tent, silenced the room. Gideon went down like a sack of potatoes. Rose screamed. I climbed into the ring and raced to Gideon’s side as the referee declared victory for Hector.
Just as the collective gasp had drawn in the sides of the tent, the loud, discordant cheers of the money winners billowed the striped canvas out like a balloon.
I tapped my brother’s face. “Gideon, it’s me.” I patted his cheek. It was swollen and a large cut started at his brow and ended at his cheek. “Giddy, talk to me. It’s Jackson.”
His eyes fluttered open. It took him a second to focus on my face.
There was a frenzy of activity going on around us. “Hey, you all right?” I held up some fingers. “How many?”
“Three,” he muttered.
I dropped the breath I’d been holding and patted his face again. “Yeah, you’re all right.”
“Jacks,” he said weakly.
“Yeah?”
“I hate that fucking snake.”
Chapter 20
Charli
I pulled a sobbing Rose through the sea of flying elbows to the nearest edge of canvas. I yanked it up and prodded Rose to slide through the narrow opening. I followed. It seemed a large crowd of curious carnival goers had gathered outside to see what all the excitement was about.