Little Blackbird

by Jennifer Moorman

Kate shook her head and smiled. “Sent to rescue me?”

  Matthias chuckled. “I wasn’t aware you needed saving.”

  She watched their reflections turn round and round and then watched her reflections smile. “Even if I did, I wouldn’t admit it.”

  Matthias laughed again and tugged her toward a doorway. “Geoffrey can’t stay in this section too long. It makes him motion sick. He sent me to find you.”

  They wove their way through the moving mirrored walls until they stepped through one final opening into a room full of a different sort of mirrors. There was a mirror that reflected a tall, paper-thin Charlotte, and a mirror that made Sally’s head swell to the size of a beach ball. There was a mirror that made Kate look as though she had been flattened and crafted into an accordion and one that widened Martha’s girth so much that she squealed and scurried off. Geoffrey stood in front of a mirror that shaped him like an hourglass, and he laughed, filling the room with the sound. He motioned for Kate to come over. They alternated between squatting and rising up on their tiptoes, distorting their bodies.

  One set of mirrors made Betsy appear thin and long in the face, and she hovered in front of that mirror long after everyone else had moved on. Kate stopped just inside the tunnel that led out of the room of mirrors and called out to her. Betsy stared at her thinner reflection. Her shoulders lifted in a heavy sigh, and she walked away from the illusion.

  In the next section, Geoffrey waited at the bottom of a spiral staircase that disappeared into the ceiling. Red and blue strobe lights pulsed in the room, and as Betsy and Kate moved across the floor, sections of tile lifted and tilted, causing them to laugh and stumble their way toward the staircase.

  Betsy pitched forward and tumbled into Geoffrey, causing him to fall backward with her on top of him. With the tilting floor, Kate moved toward them looking like a drunken sailor. She helped Betsy to her feet before grabbing Geoffrey’s hands, and the three of them giggled. Betsy’s face was redder than a Red Moss rose, and she hurried up the staircase.

  Geoffrey made a sweeping motion with his arm. “After you, mademoiselle.”

  Kate leaped onto the bottom stair and turned to face him. The laughter warmed her cheeks and made her bold. She was nearly his exact height, so she put her hands on his cheeks and kissed him. Geoffrey’s amused expression excited her. She giggled and climbed the stairs.

  The stairs rose into a small room with no way out except for a red slide that slipped through the floor and emptied into a pit of colorful plastic balls. Kate saw the others jumping around and throwing balls at each other. She glanced over her shoulder at Geoffrey before gripping the edges of the slide and launching herself forward. The wind whooshed past her cheeks, and she held her breath as she landed and her body dispersed a wave of balls in every direction. As soon as Kate stood, Charlotte pelted her with an armful of balls. Geoffrey landed behind her and joined in the fray. Kate lurched through the pit and tossed balls at anyone she saw as she slogged toward the door.

  The final room contained a bridge connecting the last platform to an enormous spinning barrel that would return them to the carnival. Kate watched the group bumble through the rotating barrel and recognized that the faster she moved, the less likely she would be to fall and flounder on the bottom like John and Ted. She waited for everyone to pass through, and once Geoffrey stood on the outside and waved to her, she ran as fast as she could. She plowed through the barrel, barely losing her step, and nearly knocked Geoffrey off the exit platform. He wrapped his arms around her to stop them from falling down the stairs, and they burst into laughter. The group waited for them at the bottom, and Kate’s chest swelled with happiness at the sight of their smiling faces.

  GEOFFREY MARKED OFF Kiss Kate on Ferris wheel from their imaginary list. Then he marked off kissing her behind the Tilt-A-Whirl, kissing her on the bumper cars, kissing her as the Caterpillar zoomed, and kissing her in the photo booth. Geoffrey pocketed the eight black and white photos, but promised to give her half of them before they went home.

  Kate’s tickets were dwindling, but Geoffrey told her he had a pocket full of money. He grinned when he whispered they had more rides to mark off their list. As the evening grew later, the carnival-goers shifted from young children and their parents to older youth and adults. The conversations were louder, bawdier, and whispered in dark corners. The colors in the air were shadowed at the edges, midnight blues and indigo with bursts of crimson. Even the carnival workers seemed to have changed shifts. The jovial, rounded faces had been replaced with thinner, hungrier smiles.

  Charlotte linked her arm through Kate’s. “Isn’t this the best?” Charlotte squeezed their arms together and smiled, showing nearly all her teeth.

  Kate nodded. Charlotte’s cheeks were bright pink, and her glassy eyes shined. Kate smelled the hint of sweetness left behind by the small bottle of red wine Charlotte had hidden in her purse. Matthias, Geoffrey, and Mikey stopped at the fried dough and corndog concession and waited in line so they could buy enough servings for everyone.

  Charlotte leaned toward Kate, coming so close their noses almost touched. “Geoffrey seems like he really likes you.”

  Kate shifted and her eyes located Geoffrey. He laughed with his brother and Mikey. “I really like him.” A flush crept across her cheeks like a sunrise.

  Martha bounced over. Her words slurred thick and syrupy when she spoke. “Ted heard there was someone selling alcohol to minors behind Madame Daphne’s tent, so we’re going for refills. I already told them.” She motioned toward the concession stand with her head. “Coming?”

  As they weaved their way toward the fortune teller’s tent, Kate’s parents stepped through an opening in the crowd. Her mama waved at her, jangling an armful of colorful bracelets, and her daddy lifted his striped bag of popcorn as a form of hello.

  “There you are,” her mama said, scanning the faces around Kate. “Hello.”

  The girls said hello, but Ted and John kept walking. Martha and Sally lingered behind Betsy and Charlotte. Kate shifted on her feet. “Hey, Mama.”

  “We’ve been looking all over for you,” her mama said. “We have to ride the carousel.”

  Martha snickered. “I haven’t ridden the carousel since I was eleven.”

  Kate narrowed her eyes at Martha. Then she grabbed her mama’s forearm and pulled her parents away from the group. “I’ll meet up with you at the tent,” she said to the group, and Charlotte nodded before she herded the girls away. “Mama, I’m hanging out with friends.”

  Her mama waited for Kate to say more. Kate glanced at her daddy, but he kept shoving handfuls of popcorn into his mouth. A group of teenagers sitting on potato sacks raced down the Alpine Slide, whooping as they slid.

  “Nobody else’s parents are trying to get her to ride kiddie rides.”

  Her mama frowned. “Kiddie rides? We ride the carousel every year. You love it. The horse with the rainbow mane? He’s waiting for you. What is it you call him?” She looked up at Kate’s daddy.

  “Sparkle, right?” Kate’s daddy asked.

  Kate groaned and tried to spot the rest of the group. The crowds of people thickened, and her friends were already gone. Kate saw the flag emblazoned with an eye waving above Madame Daphne’s tent marking where she’d find them. “Mama, not this year, okay? I’m hanging out with friends. I can’t be seen riding the kiddie ride. We’re doing other stuff.”

  “Other stuff?” Her mama’s chin lifted. “So you’re forfeiting something you love because of what others think? Fine.” She raised her hands in resignation. Her bracelets sparkled like jewels. “We’ll see you at home.” She grabbed onto Kate’s daddy and led him away.

  Guilt pooled in Kate’s stomach like hot turpentine. “Mama.” Her mama turned. “Don’t be mad.”

  Her mama shook her head and smiled, but the smile was a poor representation of the ones that lifted her cheeks and framed her lips with curved lines. “I’m not mad. Have fun, Little Blackbird.”

  Her parents wa
lked away, leaving Kate standing alone in a sea of people parting around her.

  VOICES CARRIED FROM behind Madame Daphne’s tent, and Kate slipped alongside the thick purple canvas, sliding one hand against the rough fabric. She stopped short of rounding the corner and joining her friends when she heard her name.

  “What’s Geoffrey’s deal with Kate?” Ted asked. “He can’t be serious. Her brother was okay, but her? No. Kiss the Indian and get it out of your system, but tell me they aren’t really dating.”

  No one spoke for a few beats. Screams erupted from the Cliffhanger. The nearby arcade spit tickets and whirled an alarm as someone became the best sharp shooter around.

  Betsy cleared her throat. “I think they are dating. At least that’s the way she described it to us, didn’t she?”

  “Who cares if they’re dating?” Charlotte asked. “There’s nothing wrong with her.”

  “I think she’s nice,” John said.

  Ted laughed. “Nice isn’t going to cut it with his mom. I bet she doesn’t even know he’s been running around with the witch’s daughter.”

  Kate’s throat closed. She fisted her dress in her hands and swayed as though she’d just climbed off the Hurricane, still spinning, still unsure of her footing.

  “Don’t be stupid, Ted,” Charlotte argued. “Her mama’s not a witch.”

  More of Ted’s laughter snaked around the tent and curled around Kate’s feet. “You sure about that?”

  Clinking bottles disrupted the conversation. “You want all these filled?” a stranger’s voice asked.

  Ted grunted. “Yeah, I can pay for it.”

  Kate stepped forward far enough so she could peak around the edge of the canvas tent and remain hidden. A young man, probably in his late twenties, knelt over a cardboard box filled with an assortment of alcohol contained in unlabeled glass bottles. He filled the flasks for the group.

  Martha twirled a piece of her blonde hair around her finger. “You know Geoffrey. He has the attention span of a toddler. One second he’s into you and the next he wants something new. Kate is just weird enough that he wanted to try her out. He’ll get tired of her the way he gets tired of everyone.”

  Ted lit a cigarette and pulled in a long drag. He blew warped smoke rings into the night sky. “You mean the way he got tired of you last summer?”

  Martha’s face pinched. “He didn’t get tired of me. We decided we were better off friends, that’s all.”

  Ted scoffed. “Friends who snuck around all last school year making out in closets and empty classrooms?”

  Sally gasped. “You were doing that all year with him?”

  Martha shrugged. “Who cares?”

  I do. Kate pressed her hands against her stomach. Kate’s imagination created scenes of Martha and her blood-red lips kissing Geoffrey, holding onto him the way Kate did. She pictured Geoffrey’s arms wrapped around Martha’s waist and his hands on her curves. Geoffrey had never once mentioned that he and Martha had been together. Was Kate his newest shiny plaything, something he would toss aside in less than two weeks when he left for college? She glanced down at the dwindling pen lines on her palm—nine marks—indicating when Geoffrey would leave.

  Ted pointed his burning cigarette at Martha. “Obviously you care. You’re the one dressing her up like a baby doll parading her around.”

  Martha tossed her hands into the air. “If Geoffrey is going to insist on dragging her around town, the least I can do is make her look decent.”

  Sally snickered.

  Charlotte shook her head. “Martha–”

  “What?” Martha snapped, whirling around to face Charlotte. “Tell me she doesn’t look like a somewhat normal person now. Tell me you wouldn’t have been ashamed to be seen around town with her looking like an Indian throwaway.”

  Kate’s stomach lurched. Wasn’t Martha supposed to be her friend? Kate splintered, starting in her gut and cracking all the way up her chest. She couldn’t breathe. She pressed her hand to her chest just so she could feel her heartbeat, but she felt nothing. Had Geoffrey already stolen it? Or had she given it to him as though it was free, as though giving her heart away was easy?

  “Where is everybody?”

  Kate reeled around as Geoffrey, Matthias, and Mikey, laden down with paper plates, popcorn bags, and cardboard containers packed with food, stepped over ropes and cables on their way to her. Kate lifted her arm and pointed. She couldn’t speak. Geoffrey smiled at her and kept walking.

  “Dinner’s served,” he barked at the group as he rounded the tent.

  “About time,” Ted said. “I’m starving.”

  Mikey passed by, but Matthias stopped.

  “You okay? You look kinda…seasick.”

  Kate’s bottom lip trembled, so she pressed her lips together. She feared if she opened her mouth and said anything she’d blurt, “I want to go home” and sound like a child. But she did want to go home and lock the window tight, hide beneath the covers, and not come out of her room again until she had forgotten about all of them. She stared as Geoffrey handed out plates of food.

  The flag above Madame Daphne’s tent whipped and snapped in a gust of wind that stormed through the carnival. Balloons were snatched from hands, tent openings flapped against their ropes, and dust lifted into tornadoes that raced across the fairgrounds. Martha squealed as her dress lifted, and she pressed it against her legs, but her flirtatious laughter betrayed her. She glanced around to see who’d noticed the creamy skin on her thighs. Ted winked at Martha.

  Matthias pressed his elbow into Kate’s arm, and she turned her face to him.

  “I thought…” She shook her head. I thought we were friends. She stepped around the side of the tent to join the others.

  Powdered sugar smudged Martha’s lipstick as she poked a piece of fried dough into her mouth. Ted made a joke, and Martha laughed louder than necessary, leaning against his arm, spilling sugar from her plate like a snowstorm. Sally joined in with the laughter, bulleting the night with her nasal, staccato laughs.

  Charlotte walked over and took a bag of popcorn from Matthias’ hands. Betsy stared at a fried cake hidden beneath a mound of snow-white sugar. She dipped one finger into the powder and licked it hesitantly. Then she scanned the group to see who might be watching before breaking off large chunks of cake and eating them as quickly as possible. Sally and John tapped their flasks together before testing the new drink. Ted handed a five-dollar bill to the young man who then shoved the bill into a cookie tin. Geoffrey squirted mustard on his corndog while Mikey smeared his corndog through a blob of ketchup. They talked about riding the Scrambler.

  Kate stood among them, but on the outside edge of their circle. All she’d ever wanted was to fit in, to be a part of a group of friends, to laugh with other girls, to be noticed by the boys. Now, having been allowed inside their group—if only for a brief few weeks—she felt more alone than when she’d had no one to call friend. A voice whispered in her head, They never accepted you. You could never win them over like Evan did. You’re nothing like him. Her gaze drifted to Geoffrey. He looked away from Mikey and smiled at her. In two long strides, he stood by her side.

  He offered her a plate of french fries. “Hungry?”

  Kate shook her head. She wanted to smile, but she felt so broken apart inside that none of her functions appeared to be working. Her cheek twitched.

  Geoffrey leaned down toward her. “You okay? Did the last ride get to you?”

  Kate exhaled. She still had Geoffrey, didn’t she? It didn’t matter what Martha said. Martha was wrong. Martha didn’t know how Geoffrey looked at Kate or how he held her close. Martha had never seen them laughing together or sitting by the river counting fireflies.

  “The last few minutes I’ve really felt it,” Kate said.

  Geoffrey nodded. “Give it a few minutes. We can ride something easy. Maybe the Tunnel of Love?” He grinned.

  Kate leaned toward his smile, pulled in by the need for affirmation, the need to know he di
dn’t reject her the way the others did. She pressed her face against his arm. His body warmth spread through her cheek, down her neck, and trickled into her chest. She inhaled slowly and exhaled. “Maybe just the two of us?” She didn’t care if she and Geoffrey lost the group in the carnival. They could lose them forever.

  Geoffrey kissed the top of her head. “Just the way I like it.”

  Martha stumbled forward, and she dropped her empty paper plate onto the ground. “Ted thinks he’s the best at the milk bottle game. Anyone up for the challenge?”

  Ted looped his arm around Martha’s shoulders. “It’s wager time. John? Matt?”

  John stepped forward. “Count me in. I have an arm for these sorts of games.”

  Ted laughed. “And that’s about all you have an arm for.”

  John shoved Ted, and the two of them walked around the tent. The rest of the group followed. Geoffrey slipped his hand into Kate’s and he pulled her along behind the others.

  As Kate and Geoffrey followed, he leaned toward her. “We’ll play this one game, and then we can wander off.”

  “Would you do that for me?” she asked. Looking at Martha twisted her stomach. Kate felt the separation between herself and the group widen with each step they took through the carnival. Fitting in with them now felt like pushing through a thicket of thorns, each movement slicing into her skin and causing her breath to catch in her throat.

  Geoffrey squeezed her hand. “Losing this bunch to spend time with you? That’s easy.”

  Kate held onto him, grabbing his words and shoving them deep into her chest where they pacified the ache, where they reassured her that Geoffrey wanted to be with her. She wasn’t just some girl who was weird enough to catch Geoffrey’s attention for a while like Martha claimed. Geoffrey cared about her.

  They gathered around the Milk Bottle Toss. Ted and John stepped up to hurl the first balls at the wooden bottles. Ted knocked the top bottle from the stack, and two of John’s bottles shot from their platform like missiles. Their next two throws missed the targets. The booth operator stacked the bottles again, and Ted asked for a new competitor. Geoffrey winked at Kate and volunteered.