Star

by Erin Lee

  Star

  INTERNATIONAL BESTSELLING AUTHOR

  ERIN LEE

  CIRCUS FREAK SERIES BOOK 5

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  “Reach high, for stars lie hidden in you. | Dream deep, for every dream precedes | the goal.” | Rabindranath Tagore

  Dedication: | For those who gaze at the stars in wonderment. | The show goes on... | Star | Chapter One

  Star | Chapter Two

  Star | Chapter Three

  Star | Chapter Four

  Star | Chapter Five

  Star | Chapter Six

  Star | Chapter Seven

  Star | Chapter Eight

  Acknowledgements | Special thanks...

  MEET THE FREAKS THAT ARE BABY GIRL AND DADDY! | Daddy’s Girl excerpt:

  Erin Lee’s Released & | Upcoming Titles

  “Reach high, for stars lie hidden in you.

  Dream deep, for every dream precedes

  the goal.”

  Rabindranath Tagore

  Copyright © 2018 by Erin Lee

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental

  Dedication:

  For those who gaze at the stars in wonderment.

  The show goes on...

  Star

  Chapter One

  Neptune Star

  Before the destiny was clear

  Okay. So my story’s not exactly typical. Even in a place filled with freaks, I’m probably the strangest of all. I mean, how many non-human alien activists do you know roaming around a carnival? But that’s nothing. And, while this story is supposed to be about me, it really isn’t. This show and everything about it is intended to be about our new boss, Leslie. I guess some things just have a way of taking on a direction of their own. Think of it like a wayward comet forging its way through space to its own fate.

  I’d like to say my former friend Leslie the Contortionist was a good Boss Lady. But truth be told, it quickly became a little difficult working under the ever-watchful eyes of the newly married kleptomaniac Mrs. Wormy. Frankly, it became nearly impossible. For the clumsiest earthling I know, Madame Leslie sure doesn’t seem to realize how her ridiculous rules about the cash box and pension for theft are throwing off the show. God, I miss Scarlet.

  But here on Earth, they say the show goes on. And so, as the finale act of the Flying Moons, I guess the only thing I can do for now is what I was born to do – fly through the air and try to keep my four ears tucked behind my hair. When I’m not in the ring, I can do the best I can to make things right for the animals and the rest of the freaks in the show. Like it or not, change needs to happen here. I guess that’s what I’m destined to do. I’m just glad Jizz isn’t here to see it. He’d never let me hear the end of it.

  I sigh, waving at the animal activists lined up along the road exactly 200 Earth feet away and across the street as I walk toward Madame Leslie’s mobile office. If I can only convince her we don’t need animals to put on a good show, at least that would be one thing I could do right on this silly planet.

  It’s not like the animals have anyone left to take care of them. Leslie fired Ian before Madame Scarlet was even out of town. She told me Ian was rude, could not be trusted, and would be a distraction with her new plans for the show. In truth, it was that he was sucking the life out of payroll and she saw no need for his organic Big Cat food supplements that cost more than the cotton candy and fried dough combined. For her, it was all about the bottom line. She didn’t seem to care here or there what happened to the big bull Simba or even the Big Cats who have been around double the years of her. I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not like Cat didn’t warn me. No. Cat, the little person with the big mouth, gets around. She tells me everything.

  I consider turning around and marching off to find Cat instead of Leslie. Enamored with her new pet, Peaches 2.0, I doubt she’d have time for me now. Lately she’s been distracted. Please Goddess, don’t let her collect another head. Still, when it comes to the animals—the closest thing I know to aliens—it might work. Cat is an animal lover herself; taking in one stray after the other all in a quest to replace her dead true love Moe. If I could get to Cat and find out who to call... Or I could call Frank. I mean, it’d be a good excuse...

  That’s when everything changes. I just don’t quite know...

  Boom.

  Crash.

  Using my elbows, I rub my eyes to get a better look at the oddest of things in front of me. For a moment, I feel as dumb as a human being. In truth, it’s hard to make sense of it: The strangest of things has happened. I’ve bumped into – a hat? Using my elbows again—things we aliens use the way humans do hands—I do my best to feel the invisible figure in front of me. It’s dense. Warm too. But not like the earthlings. Not like Frank or his family.

  Shuffle left.

  Then right.

  The hat moves up, then down. A voice says, “Pardon me, Ma’am.”

  It has to be the show’s invisible man, Albert Blender. Apparently neither of us were watching where we were going and wound up smack together like star dust on the coldest of black hole rims.

  I try not to stare at the wiggly hat. I mean, it’s not like I don’t know how horrible it feels to be stared at. Just because I can’t see him, it doesn’t mean he can’t see me. I feel my face turn tangerine orange—something a Volusia girl just knows—as I step first to my left, then to my right, wondering how to get around what I cannot see. Why, why can’t I have my PC chip here? That thing can see everything.

  Shuffle, shuffle.

  Crash.

  Great. Epic extraterrestrial abilities. Nice one, Neptune.

  “Al? Watch what you’re doing! Get out of her way,” a female voice barks.

  Mrs. Blender. It has to be her. The tone. The grumble. The exasperation. She’s just like Little Anus’ mother. Gross. Screw this. Es says Mrs. Blender’s mean. She’ll scream at him all day. It’ll be just that waving bracelet and her creepy voice pissing and moaning up a ruckus loud enough to wake the Big Cats. No thanks. I’m out of here. Time to fly away.

  Instead of crashing into the entire Blender family, I bend flush to the ground, extending my back and leaping into the air in a burst that would make my sisters proud, flying entirely over them. It’s not like the Blenders can say much. Who cares if they see my abilities? They are freaks too. I’ve wondered more than once what planet it is that they hail from. Catulumpa? Hammoon? Like it or not, the Goddess knows what she’s doing. The travelling carnival was the perfect place on planet Earth for a space girl like me to crash into. The only thing better will be teaching the earthlings how to live in a way that isn’t so, well, vicious.

  Or strange?

  Yes. Strange. I mean, the madness of it – a one-armed little person living with a decaying skull in a desperate attempt to hang on to her one true love? A four-fingered ring leader who literally stole the show from its rightful owner? Dozens of missing, dead carnies who no one is looking for? Animals trapped in cages with no chance at grazing without chains?

  No. Just no. Madame Leslie is right about one thing: The show will go on. She just won’t approve of exactly how things will go. She was right about another thing too. I will steal the show. And it won’t be for attention. It will be for the simple purpose of setting things straight again in this misaligned universe. I’ll do it for the animals. They are more important than
love.

  Star

  Chapter Two

  “And? I don’t remember asking for your advice. Does it not appear that I can handle myself just fine?” Madame Leslie glares at me.

  I pull at my bottom row of ears, glad that at least I don’t have to hide them here and that the microphones Frank recommended seem to be holding up. Goddess, I miss the PC chip. Stupid gravity makes it impossible here. In the circus, diversity is not only encouraged but rewarded with payday bonuses. At least, it was before Madame Leslie took over. These days, I’m not so sure. There have been rumors of pay cuts. I should talk to Cat about that too. She always knows what’s up. Cat is the one person who will know if the rumors are true or not for sure.

  “No. It’s just that with Ian gone, the cats look so sad. I found a more suitable habitat. A forever home, if you will. Do you remember the town of Escape? There, there’s a conservatory. It might be a great place for Leo and the others to live out the rest of their years. I think that’s the place Madame ran off to. She’d make sure they got attention. It would take a load off your back and be so much easier for travel. It’s not like people come out to see the cats—”

  Leslie sighs so dramatically it cuts me right off. Then, “They don’t? Cats are classic. Lions, cheetahs, and tigers are expected.”

  Now she chuckles, reminding me that I’ve only been around for a few months. She gives me a ten minute lecture on the circus coming to town nearly a century ago and informs me that it was the cats who always stole the show. Boss Lady informs me that I clearly need a lesson in travelling show histories. She tells me I could not possibly know what is best for the travelling crew and finally asks me if I’ve forgotten my bronzer.

  “You don’t look as, I don’t know, Orange.”

  “No. Nothing’s changed.” I don’t care to tell her that my skin reflects my mood. Clearly, the historically superior ass has never worn a moon ring. Duh. Where do earthlings think that term comes from?

  Every day, I’m more and more amazed at how naïve earthlings can be. Even Frank. It’s good he doesn’t fully know. He can remain oblivious—like the rest of them—on the slopes until I figure out what to do. Interspecies dating is harder than it looks.

  You don’t need a man, Neptune. It’s too complicated. He doesn’t need it and neither do you. Your entire destiny is to help these animals in this world. At home, it’s equal rights. Here, it’s getting the animals off the road. Stay focused, Neptune. You are an advocate no matter where you roam.

  Home. It’s a place I don’t like to think about much these days. But I can’t say I wouldn’t like to go back to Escape, Colorado either – the childhood home of my true, earthling love no matter how many lies I tell myself. There, there’d at least be a chance for something remotely resembling what earthlings call happiness. Maybe he’d understand, I tell myself, if I went slowly. But in truth, for as much as I find myself these days judging the humans, it’s hard not to be honest about it. In reality, I’m a coward too. Why should Frank be any different?

  Stop thinking about it. Don’t be so hard on yourself. What would Little Anus do? No. Who cares? He was an ass. Be glad you’re out of there. ...Besides. You know better than to trust a human. Remember how they treated you on the mother planet at the diner? What’s wrong with you? It’s like humanity is contagious. Cut it out! There’s no way he loves you too. Not the real way. Not enough to accept you for the true you. You can’t expect an earthling to be okay with it. It just can’t happen. Stick with the aliens.

  “Well. Get some.”

  “Get some? Get what?”

  Leslie thumbs through a large metal safe at the back of her office. She frowns. “Bronzer. You know, for the star of the show, you sure aren’t bringing much in. Get the kind with glitter. You need to be, I don’t know, more magical. Your act is getting stale and I don’t like it. Do something about it. Fix it. I’m not getting any younger and, frankly, Neptune, neither are you. Don’t make me consider a pay cut.”

  I don’t age here, idiot. I can’t help it. I have no poker face like the riggers. Instead, with my elbow, I salute. She has no more interest in putting on a good show than I do. She’s here for the money – plain and true. You can cut my pay too. Soon, it won’t matter. Things are about to change.

  “How’s Worm?” I ask, glad she knows nothing about fifth universe body language and hoping a subject change for the newlywed will do the trick. I’ll find a way to get back to the animals soon. I’m good at that. Humans don’t have the ability to track multiple lines of logic like aliens do. Using parallel lines of reasoning is likely my best bet. Simplify, Neptune.

  “He’s fine,” she mumbles. “Have you seen him around? He was supposed to be here an hour ago to make a bank run.”

  “Last time I saw him, he was coming out of the fortune teller’s trailer.”

  “God. What an idiot. I swear, he gets fixated. Remind me, will ya?”

  “Remind you of what?”

  “To talk to Es.”

  Esmeralda, the carnie psychic and card reader for the menagerie tent, is probably the biggest money maker the circus has below me. As much as Leslie dislikes her, she’ll never let her go. I consider, for the first time ever, seeing her myself for reasons other than socializing. She’d know what to do about Frank. God, I wish he’d call.

  “To talk to Es about what, exactly?”

  “None of your business. Now, get out of here. You have to practice for the show.”

  Madame Leslie turns back to the safe, bending her back as she pulls her leg up to the middle of it to stretch her quad, I assume. A former and recent contortionist, I guess it’s just what the bendy types like me do. Es is right. If she and Worm, who reminds me of Gumby, ever had kids, they might even be cute. Flexible anyway.

  “I still want to talk about the animals. The costumes too. I mean, the women in the show are being objectified. I was hoping—”

  Leslie spins around on one leg, dropping the other one somewhere between facing the full-bellied safe and full-on staring at me. “No!”

  Just when I think it’s the final word on the matter, she begins a lecture that might never end. “You know, Neptune. You are a nag. You really are. Stop coming in here with all these silly requests for God knows what reason. It’s annoying as fuck. You wonder why Frank dumped you! ...Now listen to me and listen good: There will be no getting rid of the animals. There will be no getting bigger cages or throwing the show girls in burlap bags. Mermaids wear shells on their tits and no one has a problem with that. The circus is known for skin,” she glares. “Big Cats too. So don’t go there either. You and the other performers will wear what I tell you to or you can go. Do you understand me, Neptune? Everyone, even that worm, is replaceable. And maybe even sooner than later.”

  I try to answer but she talks right though me, like a dying star from a top layer galaxy just cruising past to an unknown world below. In this moment, I am sure I hate Earth and consider my old job at the diner. It wasn’t so bad...

  “And remember, everyone is replaceable, Neptune. I don’t understand exactly where you came from and I don’t really care. There are other show stars and no one alone can steal the show. If you can’t respect the things I’m doing with the carnival, you can go. I mean, go back to Escape. Go hang out with dead Martha—she doesn’t even bother to cover up that she knows about the show’s decaying werewolf—and Madame what’s-her-face. The show will go on, with or without you. That’s the only guarantee I have. Got it?”

  “Yep.” With that and a purple face, I fly right the hell out of Boss Lady’s double-wide trailer. Screw her too. She got that right: Everyone is replaceable. Earthlings, anyway. Aliens? Not quite.

  Star

  Chapter Three

  How in the Sector 666 can she know about Martha? How does everyone know everything? Human beings don’t have these intellectual capabilities. Cat, the serial killer. Joe and Moe and that stupid skull. Andre the clown. Rusty. Are all earthlings this screwy? They have to be: Ever
yone knows the secrets, but the show still goes on. Leslie and her criminal activities. Why do they get away with it? Is the entire Earth and the people on it evil? ...Goddess. This is worse than Sector 666.

  Questions race through my head faster than any shooting star through the brightest of galaxies. It’s hard enough on Earth to make sense of the little things—like gravity—let alone the complicated emotions and motivations of intellectually-challenged human beings. How they can think it’s okay to cage the animals is something I’ll never understand. Animals, aliens. Don’t they get it? We’re all created equally and, frankly, they are the inferior species if anyone is.

  I’ve considered changing things myself. I could, of course, let the Big Cats out. I could just walk over, open the cage, and set them free. The only problem with that is that they are blood-thirsty now – thanks to Cat and her extracurricular body disposal activities.

  I wish I didn’t know. With a clear conscience, I could set them free and let fate have her way with the ending. But I do know. The Goddess has not spared me the alien—I hate that I think of myself that way now; earthlings are the true aliens—ability to pick up on backstories quickly. With the processing capabilities of ten human men, my brain works differently. It’s something I’ve promised myself I’d try to keep in mind when fitting in with the humans, but it’s hardly working.

  Determined to mind my own business for now, I bend to the floor, touching my toes with my elbows. Tonight’s show is something to look forward to. I must admit, like Madame Leslie’s mother in the Mer-shows, there’s something addictive about performing. The wide-eyed expressions on children of all ages are something a girl can get used to quick. It’s the part of humanity that helps keep me patient with them, their fascination with things not of their planet. Humans, it seems, crave magic.