Cirque De Slay

by CeeCee James

  Zings, like ant bites, pinched up and down my brows. She then worked in the space between them like she was digging at something burrowed under the skin.

  When she finished, she leaned back with a satisfied look. “Good. I’ve been itching to do that since we met. Now you’re down to just two eyebrows.”

  I felt for the sore spot and rubbed. I tried to peek into the mirror when she admonished me.

  “Ah! Ah! No looking just yet. Let me finish. You know what they say.” She reached for a colored pot of eyeshadow.

  “What?” I asked. I wrinkled my nose, feeling like I’d just smelled pepper.

  “Beauty hurts, baby.”

  The next steps didn’t hurt. She softly patted a brush across my eyelids and swept a fluffy one up my cheeks.

  “Not so pale now,” she whispered. “Much better.” She paused between brushing. “How old are you, Trixie?”

  “I—I’m not sure.”

  She frowned and the funny wrinkle between her brows puckered. “How can you not be sure?”

  I froze, suddenly afraid I’d say the wrong thing. “I think I’m nineteen. Maybe twenty-one.”

  “Nineteen or maybe twenty-one. That’s kind of an age gap,” She said, drawing her brush through pink powder. She glided it across my face. “How come you don’t know closer than that?”

  I held my breath as she worked, not wanting to do something that would mess her up. When she pressed with a “hmm?” I answered quickly. “I never had a birthday.”

  “What? Well, we need to fix that one of these days. Now what does your birth certificate say?” She heated an eye pencil with a lighter. Then she pinned my head as she concentrated on applying the liner to the corner of my eye.

  The pencil felt so weird on my lid. “I don’t have one. Or if I do, I don’t know where it is.”

  “How’d you get into school then?” She started in on the other lid.

  I shrugged, making her cluck her tongue to remind me to be still. “I don’t know. Momma slept with the principal. He was her boyfriend. I guess that’s all that mattered.”

  “Did you graduate?” She moved the pencil away and watched me.

  I shook my head.

  “You ran away.” Sally clarified.

  I bit my lip and nodded.

  “Well, I get that. I ran away too. Years ago. Maybe before you were even born. You could have been my daughter, you know.”

  Her words, said so many times before, still brought tears to my eyes. She was being kind. So kind.

  I sniffed, “I would have loved to have you as a mother.”

  “Aww, honey.” She bent down and gave me a quick hug. My eyes squished tight in emotion.

  She squeezed me again, and then continued, “Now you mentioned something about a ribbon. Do you have one? Is that why you’re asking?”

  I hesitated. Do I bring out the one I found by Claudette’s body? I glanced at her, and she smiled as if she knew what I was thinking.

  Sally nodded. “You have one, don’t you? Well, go get it. Might as well do the whole shebang and fix your hair as well. But no peeking in the mirror when you get up!”

  I stood up, making a big show of averting my face from my reflection as I climbed up in my bunk. Where was it? I don’t know why I asked, I knew exactly where I’d left it last night—rolled up inside my pillowcase.

  I pulled it out and held the ribbon toward Sally.

  She glanced at it, and her eyebrows flickered. “Well, now. That’s a nice piece of silk. Is that really yours?”

  “I found it,” I mumbled.

  “Did you, now?” She took it from my hand. Slowly, she spun it around her hand and studied it. Then she flashed me a tight smile. “Pink is a little light for your hair. Let me get something that’s better suited to you.” She wound it tightly around her finger. Helplessly I watched, my mouth open, as she dropped it into her jewelry box.

  Humming to herself, she reached for her basket where she kept her hair supplies. Curlers, hairdryers, hairsprays, it was all in there. After rumbling around a moment, she came out with a blue jeweled clip.

  I gasped at the sight of it. The barrette was metal with blue forget-me-not flowers glued to the back.

  “Here, let’s trade that ribbon for this. What do you think?” She held it in the light so the jewels sparkled. I naturally knew they were fake jewels, but I’d never owned anything so nice.

  “It’s beautiful,” I whispered.

  She beckoned me and pointed back to the bench. I climbed down and she spun me so my back was to the mirror. Humming softly, she drew the brush through my hair.

  “My goodness. It’s like a living curtain! So thick!” she exclaimed. The brush felt amazing, and my eyes stung again. I was so unused to soft touches that they affected me more than they should have.

  Again, she ignored my reaction, which I appreciated. She twisted the sides and drew them together, and then fastened them with the clip. She studied me for a second, and then pulled a few wisps down around my face. Nodding with satisfaction, she turned me back toward the mirror.

  “What do you think?” she whispered.

  My mouth dropped in shock. I’d never seen myself look like this before. The makeup had done amazing things. My eyes appeared huge, finally not overpowered by my nose for the first time. I had cheekbones. I turned this way and that, studying my reflection.

  “Pretty, right?” she said, hugging my shoulders. “And you can keep the clip. I can’t get it to stay in my thin hair anyway.”

  “Thank you,” I said, the words barely making it out over the lump in my throat.

  She laughed. “You can thank me by seeing yourself the way I see you. This girl was inside there the whole time. Treat yourself as good enough, even if no one else does.”

  I didn’t even know how to answer that. I nodded.

  She rose her eyebrows in alarm. “Now don’t you go crying! You’re going to ruin that eye makeup!”

  10

  I wish I could say the confidence stayed with me as I left my cabin. But each step away from my safe place knocked it down until I felt more self-conscious than I had in a long time.

  Now that I was all dolled up, I didn’t feel invisible anymore. I sure didn’t like that too much. I ran into the costume tent and stood in front of the mirror to see if it was as bad as I thought.

  Wow! I look like I want attention. I hate attention, I hate it so much! I grabbed a tissue and leaned in to scrub it off.

  But then I froze. Wait a minute. Who always teases me that I’m a mouse?

  I stood there with my hand in the air, staring at my reflection so long that my hand started trembling.

  Who calls me a mouse?

  I could ask that question a thousand times. I knew it wasn’t me that called myself that. Others did.

  I crumpled the tissue and tossed it down. If I want to be a mouse, then I will be a mouse. But it’s me who’s going to be in control of that.

  I grabbed my costume and slung it around my neck. Then, I walked out with my head held high. But I avoided looking into the mirror again so I didn’t have another set-back.

  As I was leaving, I saw Tiffany Roxbury. She walked ahead of me. What caught my attention was that she slowed and looked around, like she didn’t want anyone to see her.

  Interesting. I followed her quietly. She scanned behind her again, but she couldn’t see me, not with the way I drifted from hiding behind the scarecrow, to the stacked pumpkins, to the bales of hay. She seemed distracted enough to only give a cursory glance before hurrying forward.

  Walking swiftly, she left the main path and headed for the private cabins. I followed, slower this time. I let her get quite a bit ahead of me, but still remained close enough that I could see her climb the stairs to the Ringmaster’s cabin.

  She tapped softly and then entered, shutting the door firmly behind her.

  I blinked hard. Seriously? Wow. I guess Claudette had been substituted. Apparently, everyone was replaceable.

  Une
xpectedly, the door flew open with a crash. Tiffany stumbled down the stairs. She landed on her hip in the dirt with her blonde hair falling over her face.

  The Ringmaster appeared in the doorway, his face dark and cold. “I told you last week to leave. Nothing you say will change that. Now get out of here!” A pair of shoes were chucked after her. The door slammed shut.

  Tiffany tucked her hair behind her ear. Then she stood and brushed herself off. Slowly, she limped over to her shoes and gathered one, then the other up. She looked around to see if anyone saw. I leaned back into the shadows of the outhouse, at once thankful for my small size.

  “You will pay for that,” she mumbled. “Your money’s gone, and you’re not getting it back.” Her middle finger flew up, and she waved it at the Ringmaster’s house. A satisfied smirk spread across her face. She yanked down her shirt and nodded. “You didn’t listen when it was happening.”

  Her words were so soft-spoken that I leaned forward to the point that I might be seen if she turned in the right direction. I bit my thumbnail and listened.

  She continued to talk. “You think you own me? Well, I’ll show you. I don’t need this place.”

  Tiffany turned in my direction.

  I nearly fainted as a wave of cold fear washed over me. She had to have seen me. I dropped to a crouch and scurried from the outhouse and around a cabin. From there I dashed to hide behind another cabin up ahead.

  I heard crunching of her shoes in the dirt. Was she coming after me?

  The side of the cabin was rough. I leaned against it and tried to breath. The cabin’s window was open, and I could hear talking inside. Someone was joking about a card hand.

  Slowly, I peeked around the side to see where Tiffany had gone.

  She was coming! I jerked back, my heart in my throat. Where do I go? Where do I hide? I held my breath to listen. More laughter echoed in the cabin.

  “There you are!” Tiffany hissed. “What do you think you’re doing, you little rat?” She grabbed me by the hair. White-hot pain erupted from my scalp. I squirmed to get away.

  “Eh? What’s that?” A male voice came to the window. “Tiffany? Is that you?”

  “Yes. And guess what I found skulking outside your window.” She yanked me up to my toes. I moaned and tip-toed about to keep my balancing.

  “Is that Trixie? What’s going on out there?”

  A second face joined the first. I recognized Larry, the animal caretaker.

  “What’s she doing out there?” he asked.

  “How would I know? I just found her here.” She shook me by the roots of my hair and then set me free. I fell to my bottom with a hard thump.

  “Eh, now,” Larry said. “You be nice to her. Girl’s not half your size.”

  “Not half my size, but following me all the time!” Tiffany yelled. Her normally pretty blonde hair hung across her flushed face.

  “Following you? And why would that bother you? You doing something you don’t want to be found out? Eh? I expect Vincent knows a secret or two about you.” Larry laughed while his roommate made a crude gesture.

  “I wouldn’t laugh so hard, Larry. You know there’s things you don’t want found out,” she hissed, tossing her hair back from her face.

  Immediately, his laughter stopped. “You watch your tongue, Tiffany. You aren’t so innocent yourself.”

  She stared him down, her chest heaving. I used the distraction to crab-scrabble away on my hands and feet.

  My movement caught her attention. She walked over to me. “You follow me again, and I’ll give you something to see.” With that, she drew her hand back and cracked me across the face.

  Larry shouted from the window. The cabin shook with thundering footsteps. Tiffany turned a scared face toward it and then lifted her skirts and ran.

  I watched her run away. She was out of sight before the men made it out of their cabin, having disappeared in the maze of bunk houses.

  “Did she hurt you?” Larry gave me his hand to help me up. I shook my head. Her slap was nothing compared to some I’d received.

  “Dirty twit. She ought not to have touched you. I’m sorry.”

  His roommate looked me over. “You got gussied up, I guess. You ain’t half-bad looking with your eyes done.”

  I’d forgotten the makeup Sally had put on me. I wiped at my eye and stared at the dark smudge.

  “Hey now. Don’t go doing that. You’ll ruin it.” Larry’s roommate reached into his pocket. “You need a handkerchief?”

  I shook my head. The blow hurt my pride, even more that it had been on my face. That felt so personal and unjustified. I scooped up my costume from where it had fallen and then ran so they wouldn’t see me cry.

  Finally, around the corner and out of sight, I leaned against another bunk house and tried to calm myself.

  She’s mean and awful and has a secret. So what secret does Tiffany have? She looked scared when Larry brought it up.

  I heaved a sigh and started forward, meaning to go back to my bunk. I was jerked to a stop by a hand clawing into my arm.

  11

  It was Tiffany. Her mascara had run into a raccoon eyes. “I know you saw me. Outside the Ringmaster’s cabin.”

  Her fingernails bit into my skin in fiery crescents. I didn’t know what to do or how to answer. Shrinking down wasn’t going to help me. Not now. I decided to do something new. It was my only hope.

  I puffed my chest up and straightened as tall as I could. “Let go of me,” I said, imitating the Ringmaster’s cold and deadly tone. I didn’t dare jerk my arm away. She was much stronger than me, and this was a battle I couldn’t lose.

  Her lipstick-smeared mouth dropped open. I could tell I’d taken her by surprise. She started to speak again when I cut her off.

  “You let go of me right now, or I’ll tell everyone everything I know.” I knew nothing other than her being tossed from the Ringmaster’s cabin like a bag of laundry, but I would bluff. Oh boy, would I bluff.

  “You don’t know anything,” she whispered back.

  I stared her straight in the eye. “I will. I’ll shout it from the rooftops. And what I don’t know, I’ll make up. People will believe me.”

  I didn’t know if they would, but it was more important that she did. Her mouth pressed together, and she threw my arm down. I took a few steps away.

  “You leave me alone, and I’ll leave you alone,” I said, holding my hands up.

  She nodded, just one dip of her head. It was enough for me. My bravado drained away like sudsy water down a bathtub, and I turned and ran as fast as I could.

  This time, I headed for the stable. My costume was sweaty and dirty in my hand. I shook it to free it of wrinkles, but it was too late. They branched out from where I’d been carrying it like cat whiskers. I slung it back around my neck and slowly walked down to Prancer’s stall.

  I froze when I reached there. Vincent, the sword swallower, was standing in the stall with Prancer.

  Now, there were specific protocols we all followed. And one of them was we don’t mess with each other’s stage animals. I didn’t go into the inside of the dog kennels, I didn’t mess with the wild animals, and I didn’t saunter into the other horse stalls. Not even to give the horses a treat.

  So seeing him in the stall with Prancer stopped me cold.

  “What are you doing here?” I managed to get out.

  Vincent’s hand jerked from where he’d been resting it on Prancer’s neck. “I, uh, I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t be here.” He blushed and stepped away from the horse.

  Prancer’s jaws were moving. He nickered at the sight of me.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked again, a little more firmly this time.

  “I saw Tiffany hit you. I thought you might come in this direction. Are you okay?” He moved closer to me, and his eyes softened with concern.

  I stepped back in surprise. He’d seen that? His gentle tone was throwing me. “Did you just feed my horse?”

  “Uh, yeah. I j
ust had an apple core I was eating. He brought back a memory of when I was a kid. I used to own a paint like him.”

  Prancer moseyed over to the stall door. His big sides heaved with a nasally exhale. I rubbed his nose. “You had horses?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Years ago. Years and years.” He patted Prancer on the back and then moved toward the door. It took him a bit of coaxing to get Prancer out of the way. Finally, Vincent was able to leave. He shut the stall door behind him.

  He turned with a smile and reached his hand toward me.

  What was he doing? I stepped back.

  “Sorry,” he said, his hand dropping to his side. “I just wanted to see if you were okay. You know, from where Tiffany hit you.”

  “Larry said you had some big secrets about Tiffany. What are they?” I shocked myself as the words blurted from my mouth.

  His nose wrinkled and he snickered. “You always have your ear to the ground, don’t you?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, suddenly feeling very unsure. It had been a mistake to ask him that. I knew it.

  “I think you know a lot more than you let on.” He plucked a hay strand from the feed box and stuck it in his mouth.

  I shifted uncomfortably. A horse nickered two stalls down and bumped hard into its wall. We both glanced in that direction. I shivered as the ghostly black shadow came to my mind.

  “You okay?” Vincent asked.

  I nodded.

  “All right. It seems everyone’s up in arms tonight, I think. Even the horses.” Vincent crossed his arms and stared me down. “So tell me why you want to know what secrets I have?”

  Go on the defense. He’ll respect that. “She’s so mean. She hit me, you know. She acts so high and mighty all the time. Tell me if you really have something on her.”

  His eyes narrowed as he considered my words. His lip quirked up on one side, taking the hay-straw with it. “A little revenge gossip, is it? I get that. Nothing like hearing your enemies are rolling with the pigs.”

  My heart thumped in relief. He believed me. “Yeah, that’s it. Revenge. A little smackdown for a smackdown.”

  “Well, I’ll tell you, little Miss Perfect ain’t so perfect. She’s got a thing for the Ringmaster.”