Vagabond Circus Series

by Sarah Noffke

  “I don’t just want you to stand in the face of danger, I want you to leave Vagabond Circus commanding it!” Knight said. And then two giant lions that were Oliver’s illusions appeared on the far side of the ring. The crowd gasped at their sudden appearance. Knight stood between the two large rings and turned to face the two lions, who both growled angrily at the ringmaster. “Silence,” Knight said and the lions both cowered. “Now give these good people a show,” Knight sang to the beasts.

  The lions raised their large heads.

  “NOW!” Knight boomed and the lions lurched into a sprint aimed straight in his direction. The crowd gasped in unison. But Knight didn’t flinch. Then in perfect chorography the lions sprung off the ground and jumped through the metal rings. They landed two feet from the crowd, making the front row jump back, fearing they were about to be mauled.

  “Good boys,” Knight said and the lions nonchalantly turned and sauntered until they stood on either side of the ringmaster, like guard dogs. “Ladies and gentlemen, you came here to restore your hope in magic, to be inspired. And I do want to spark something in you.” Knight crouched down low and jumped up and spun around, kicking up the tails of his jacket as he did. “Your bad side!” Knight said and winked, making the flames on his face appear even more sinister. Loud music and smoke filled the air as Knight pulled his top hat off his head. “Welcome to Vagabond Circus.” And the lights blossomed into a sinister red before burning out completely, leaving the crowd in black.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Finley grabbed a plate of eggs and polenta filled with spinach and cheese from the food truck with a swift but sincere “thank you” to Bill the circus chef. He looked a bit overwhelmed and Finley was positive that Knight had made certain demands on the chef to prepare extra food for his kids. Not something delicious like what was on Finley’s plate presently. Knight usually fed his kids things that didn’t require chewing—oatmeal, soups, and protein shakes. Inexpensive and filling options.

  Finley found an empty table at the back of the food area and sat. The slice of polenta looked like an impossibility to eat, but he knew he had to. After last night’s performance he had to fill his reserves, but still the idea of ingesting anything was met with nausea. The crowd at Vagabond Circus had stood with applause no less than half a dozen times. Knight had sprinkled nuances into the show that kept the crowd gasping, usually in fear, but then sighing with relief. And the new ringmaster had strongly encouraged Sunshine to cast her fire act closer to the audience, to ensure the front row felt the heat. During rehearsal Sunshine had declined the suggestion and then she’d mysteriously been assaulted by the same headache that Zuma had when she met Knight. The circus owner then stated he thought the remedy to get rid of headaches would be compliance. When Sunshine finally agreed to the idea regarding her act, her headache magically disappeared.

  Finley hated watching the manipulation on Vagabond Circus members that he feared would only worsen, but more than that he despised that the show Knight led had actually been a success. People loved horror movies, but it didn’t mean they were good for them. Drugs ran the world and yet they weren’t always healthy for young or old minds and bodies. And that’s how Finley felt about the show and the way it affected its patrons.

  When the performance was over, boys ran for the exit, knocking into each other and wrestling fiercely once in the parking lot. The bickering of little girls could be heard from the practice tent. In less than two hours the young girls had turned socially aggressive, making catty remarks to the best friend with whom they’d entered the big top while holding hands. Men and women didn’t leave the big top with a renewed belief in magic, but rather with the inclination to entertain naughty ideas they hadn’t allowed themselves to give that much consideration to in the past. Knight had, like Dave, changed the people who watched his show, but not for the better. He’d planted a seed that would grow into a noxious weed and kill every healthy idea in that community. The only consolation for Finley was that at least they were leaving Medford later that afternoon, once the big top was packed up.

  That job of dissembling the big top was supposed to be done the night before, as it always was, but Knight had presented the crew with a keg at the after-party. The crew was now all sleeping off hangovers and therefore the whole schedule was off. They’d have to work double time to transport the caravan down to Redding, California, and be ready for tomorrow night’s show.

  Finley was still staring at his food when he felt a presence slide into the picnic table beside him. He looked up to find Sunshine’s always melancholy face staring back at him. Now there was a new expression. Her black arched eyebrows were nearly touching. Her eyes red. Regret and frustration written on every part of her face.

  “Don’t sit with me,” Finley said, putting his eyes back on his untouched food.

  “Nope,” she said, popping her lips together with the one word.

  “Association with me is a bad idea,” Finley said. “Don’t press your luck.”

  “I singed the hairs off a four-year-old girl’s arm last night. I think I got the market cornered on bad luck.”

  “You’ve been warned,” Finley said with a defeated sigh.

  Sunshine turned so she was facing Finley. “I knew something was up with you since the beginning. Now we learn you were transferred from this school to a circus.”

  Finley didn’t nod in agreement. He just stayed focused on the now cold eggs.

  “But you know, Fin, I’m not buying that bullshit so how about you pony up with the truth?”

  “I’m not answering any questions. Burn off my hair. Rifle through my emotions. Just stop with the questions,” Finley said.

  “Here’s how this will work. I’m pretty brilliant, if I say so myself. I think I’ve figured out what’s going on here. But you can confirm. I’m going to ask yes or no questions. Tap once on the table for yes and two for no. Then you’ve told me nothing. How does that sound?”

  Silence met Sunshine’s ears, but she didn’t adorn a defeated expression. “Here, this will help,” she said, handing Finley a fork. “Now eat and tap.”

  “Thanks,” he said, taking it.

  “Knight can create headaches in people, can’t he?” Sunshine said in a whisper. “That’s what he did to me yesterday, wasn’t it?” She then paused and stared not at Finley but at the hand holding the fork just over his plate.

  He looked at the girl for a long moment. Since the beginning he had trusted Sunshine but now he was torn if more information would help or harm her. Finley recognized the pain in her longing gaze. It was the same detail he spied in his own eyes. So quickly Knight had brought that grief upon her. And he sensed it would worsen. He tapped the twines of the fork once against the plate before lifting it back and sliding the fork under the food. The bite tasted cold and chewy in his mouth. Sunshine looked back at him with a confident knowing.

  “Next question,” she said. “There’s no school, is there?”

  Finley set the fork down. Eating just wasn’t in his near future. He then tapped his finger once on the wooden table.

  Sunshine’s eyes widened.

  “They’re slaves then,” she said, no question in her tone. Then she looked out at the crowd filing to tables. Some were sluggish crew members who had none of their usual cheer in their eyes. “That means you weren’t transferred,” she stated again and turned to face Finley. “You escaped from Knight, didn’t you?”

  Finley pressed his lips together. He too had noticed the abused bodies grabbing food and sliding into tables. The crew were now a danger to themselves, working after a night of binge drinking which had been highly encouraged by Knight.

  Finley turned back to Sunshine and then slid his gaze to his hand on the table. With one finger he tapped again.

  “Oh shit. This is as dark as I feared then, which means we are in trouble,” Sunshine said.

  “You can leave,” Finley said. “Go join another circus. Go to college. Go live your life. Go save yourself fr
om this.”

  “Screw that. And allow that madman to take over Dave’s circus? Also, Ian says that if we stay and do what Knight says that soon something will happen that will run the man away.”

  “He said that?” Finley said, his chin down, mouth hardly parting for those words.

  “Yeah, he’s been talking way more than usual. He was whispering that to the performers last night during the after-party, while his crew was getting drunk.”

  “Hmmm…” Finley said, not making sense of the idea that anything could run Knight away. “Ian said you should do what Knight said?”

  “Yeah,” she said, nodding. “He told us that otherwise things will get worse faster.”

  “I can’t argue with that statement.”

  Sunshine then noticed “the freaks” headed in their direction, Nabhi in the lead and Oliver looking less than happy to be bringing up the rear behind Padmal. “One more question,” she said, scooting in closer to Finley, her voice low. “Is Knight responsible for Dave’s death?”

  Finley straightened, unprepared for the direct question. Nabhi and Haady slid onto the bench opposite of them, forced smiles on their always pleasant faces. Everyone at the table reeked with a negative emotion. Sunshine knew this using her empathesis and Finley knew from plain observation. This was Knight’s doing. In less than a day.

  Finley looked straight at Sunshine and then balled his hand on the table and knocked once.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Sunshine’s green eyes widened, showing too much white as the triplets and Oliver took their seats at the table. Knight was responsible for Dave’s death. Finley had confirmed it.

  “But that means—” she said, but Finley knocked on the surface of the table twice sharply indicating “no.”

  “That means we have to be careful,” he said in a low voice that only she could hear.

  Oliver arched one of his black eyebrows at Sunshine and then Finley. “Well, you all are keeping up with the status quo of the rest of the circus members.” He indicated over his shoulder at the carefully moving crew members, two of whom were actually arguing at the food truck. “Chuck and Corey are fighting over line order and you two look like you haven’t yet resolved an argument. Everyone seems to have woken up on the wrong side of the circus,” Ian said.

  “Well, everyone but Paddy,” Sunshine said, shoving the repulsion of learning Knight, and probably Sebastian, murdered Dave to the corner of her being. The girl was used to hiding things, being privy to everyone’s emotions. “What’s with the wide grin on your usually sour face? You look like a freaking jack-o’-lantern, Paddy.”

  Padmal didn’t answer, just gave a snobbish grimace to the other girl.

  “We just had a meeting with Knight and he’s okayed for us to replace the knives in our juggling act with real icicles,” Haady said, his usually cheerful voice subdued.

  “That’s not accurate. He demanded that we up the danger aspect of our act,” Nabhi said, not hiding his usual frustration. “He said it wasn’t enough. That’s when Padmal supplied our earlier idea of using icicles.”

  “I don’t see what the big deal is,” the middle triplet said. “I was just giving a suggestion we’d already considered.”

  Nabhi spun to his sister on his left. “The problem,” he said through clenched teeth, “is that Dave wouldn’t approve using the icicles because they’re too dangerous. And it blurs the line of what is believable, and you know that. People are going to think the icicles are fake. Doing something like this puts us at risk, as well as the reputation of the circus.”

  “Well, the old ringmaster is dead and I’m just trying to be helpful to the new one,” Padmal said.

  “Since when were you ever helpful?” Nabhi said, pulling the rubber band off his wrist and absentmindedly tying his brown shoulder-length hair into a bun. He did it with a practiced finesse. Now he matched his brother, Haady, who had his hair the same. They could usually pass for identical twins but they weren’t since they were triplets with a girl.

  “I think that Knight actually has some bold ideas and therefore I’m willing to be helpful to him,” Padmal said, looking to Oliver for support. “Don’t you think he’s going to take Vagabond Circus to better places?”

  “More dangerous places,” Sunshine said, spite heavy in her voice.

  “I’m not sure of anything,” Oliver said, his voice slow due to exhaustion. And what made him feel worse was having Padmal’s cinnamon-colored eyes still pinned on him, a certain expectation in them. “He had me double my illusion output last night. That lion opening act nearly wiped me out for the rest of the show.”

  “You’ll just have to be stronger,” Padmal said, no sympathy in her tone.

  Finley watched this interaction with a stone expression. He had seen all this coming. This was how Knight worked. He created divides because friendships could turn into alliances and that would be dangerous to the new ringmaster’s rule. And he worked people past the point of exhaustion, encouraged bad habits, and made people go against the direction of their moral compass. Over time, it forced individuals who were strong into a position to follow blindly. In six months the members of Vagabond Circus wouldn’t even recognize themselves. Finley knew he had to stop this but he was powerless. He couldn’t leave, and watching was torture.

  “We will try practicing with the icicles, but if they don’t work we aren’t using them,” Haady offered, always the voice of reason.

  “They will work,” Padmal said. She was even more intimidating since she’d learned that her mother had died. She wasn’t silent about her hate for Dave anymore. And she’d spoken of it so much recently that Oliver was truly questioning his choices. He didn’t want to leave Vagabond Circus, but he was the one person truly considering the idea. It seemed like the ideal solution to all his problems. He looked up right then to find the one person he’d been looking for. The one person who could help him decide what to do next.

  “I’ll be right back,” Oliver said, rising from the table.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Ian, for as bulky as he was, moved quite swiftly. He had almost jostled out of the food area by the time Oliver caught up with him. The illusionist called out to the clairvoyant but his voice couldn’t be heard over the bickering of the crew members. Oliver reached out for Ian’s arm when he was close enough. The large man paused but didn’t turn immediately. One way his divination gift worked was that he could sense things and futures by touching someone. It was one reason he’d never had a romantic relationship. Seeing a lover’s ending, even if decades into the future, spoiled any intimacy.

  Finally, Ian swiveled his head, which was angled down since he knew he was going to turn to find Oliver, who was a foot shorter than him. He looked into the boy’s eyes, one brown and the other green. “Are you quite certain you want to know?” Ian said.

  The question hung mysteriously in the air, but Oliver didn’t have to wonder long. Ian would have sensed that Oliver wanted to have his future read. And if Ian was reluctant to share it then it meant his future included tragedy. “I think so,” Oliver said, suddenly feeling small looking up at the overburdened eyes of the man in front of him.

  “You need to be certain, because you can’t unknow your future. And if you think you can do something to avoid it, then that will surely be the act that causes it.” With a humorless laugh Ian then said, “The universe plays games, but not by the rules.”

  Oliver wanted to shiver from the look in Ian’s eyes. The man had always been strange to him. He was burly in his features, but had the demeanor of a koala bear. However, now he seemed brimming with a craziness, like it was scratching to escape him.

  “How about you not tell me my future. Really what I need to know…the thing is… I need to make a decision…” Oliver ran his hand over his Mohawk, making it go flatter.

  “And you want me to tell you what decision to make?” Ian said, that hint of sensitivity always in his voice, just partnered with madness now. “To stay or leave?
Is that right? The answer to that is easy, Oliver. You must stay. Everyone must. But let’s talk about what sparked the idea in the first place. You want to leave because you don’t know how to exist at the circus with her.”

  The her was obviously Padmal. Oliver had tried to break up with her, but she’d sensed it. Made threats about how she’d make his life hell if he abandoned her after everything she’d been through. He wasn’t sure if he could believe the threats but something told him that Padmal was crazy enough to do a lot of unthinkable things. And now she had someone like Knight to encourage her bad behavior. There would be no repercussions. So Oliver had played with the idea of leaving Vagabond Circus to rid himself of her. But this had been the only place he’d ever called home. He consoled himself by thinking he could find a job as a magician at another circus. Not as successful as Vagabond Circus, but still he’d be free.

  “My advice to you is to break things off with her, but not quite yet,” Ian said. “You’ll have to endure her a little longer. And when you do break things off, you have to break her spirits in order to stay safe.”

  “And then she won’t retaliate?” Oliver said.

  “Oh, she will, but it will backfire on her,” Ian said, and his eyes lost focus, like he was studying something in his mind. It was almost the look of a blind person.