Vagabond Circus Series

by Sarah Noffke

  “No, you’re a monster because that’s who you chose to be,” Finley said and then for the first time in all his life he turned, putting his back to Knight, and then he left without being dismissed.

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Finley heard the steps behind him, felt her approach. It wasn’t just that her energy registered in him in the most primal way. He also knew the way she thought. She’d know he was a second away from exploding. An inch from the fuse inside him detonating. Zuma was the girl who would want to be there for that. She would endure the shrapnel if she could just be there to hold him up when he finally let it all out and then collapsed. Finley slowed but didn’t turn. The other thing about Zuma was she was careless and kept putting herself so close to death because she’d quit caring. Why should the girl who couldn’t be happy care if she died? She was diabolical.

  “Leave me alone, Zuma,” he said just loud enough for her to hear over the wind kicking up leaves and making branches clamber together.

  She came to stand in front of him but he kept his eyes high. Off the girl he loved and couldn’t have, especially now. “I know you, Finley. You don’t want me to comfort you right now. You want to be left alone. I get it. And against everything I want I’m going to give you space. I’ll keep giving you space. I’ll keep not talking to you. Forever and ever I’ll allow you to burn the bridges between us if that’s what you want.”

  “Then what are you doing here?” he said, his eyes on the gray sky behind her.

  “The keys to my car are in the glove box. Take it. You probably want to get as far from this place as possible,” she said.

  Finley nodded. She did know what he needed. Knew he couldn’t be on Vagabond Circus grounds right then. He was so close to tearing it apart, to destroying everything that belonged to the man he now knew was his father.

  Finley expected Zuma to say one more thing. But as she’d done for all these months, she did the one thing he asked for. The one thing that was also little by little turning his heart brittle. She turned and walked away.

  “Zuma,” he called out.

  She paused and hesitated before turning to face Finley, almost like she didn’t want to. Like looking at him without the freedom to love him had taken her brittle heart and flaked it until almost nothing remained. When Zuma faced him he finally brought his eyes down to look at her. She was more beautiful than he remembered since he hadn’t allowed himself to really focus on her in a long few months. It was easier if they didn’t speak, if he moved beside her without really looking at her.

  “Do I resemble him? In any way? Am I a monster?” Finley asked.

  “You resemble the soldier he created, but that’s all. You are no monster. I’ve been in your head and I would know.” A sliver of a smile made her pink lips spread slightly. “Actually, you think like your uncle, with concern for others. You have his eyes too. Maybe that’s what first drew me to you.”

  Finley then found his feet had brought him to Zuma without his consent. He stood inches from her. His hands felt like magnets drawn to her but he found that closing his eyes overrode that instinct. His hands remained by his side. His eyes pressed closed. Inside his head he opened a telepathic link to Zuma.

  Thank you, he said and then he opened his eyes, careful to keep them low. Finley stepped back twice before turning and leaving Zuma standing alone.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  All night Finley drove through the Santa Ynez Valley, hoping with each mile he’d think a thought that didn’t make him feel at a loss for ever having a satisfying life. After two hundred miles he found himself back at the grounds of Vagabond Circus. His round trip had only brought him exhaustion. Yes, he could have kept driving. Never returned. Taken the Audi as far as it would drive him and forget he was born to a murderer. But Finley could never live a real life knowing he’d abandoned the people of Vagabond Circus and left them to suffer under Knight’s cruelty. His father would hunt for him. He knew that. And the longer Knight went without finding him, the angrier he’d become. Finley would never be able to stay gone for good. His conscience would drag him back, maybe in a month or a year, but then he’d learn that too many had died as a punishment for his leaving.

  And Ian…Ian had said he held the key. That’s the reason he couldn’t step in to save Zuma from the bullying. Finley was supposed to die that day, but now he was alive and had returned to the once-doomed circus. Would things change now that Finley hadn’t died?

  He returned to his trailer well after midnight. The next performance would suffer if he didn’t dream travel or go to sleep right then. The acrobat flipped on the light beside the door and would have startled but caught himself before he allowed the reaction to slip out of him. There, sitting on Finley’s couch, his long arms resting on his spider-like legs, was Charles Knight. His bald head was slumped down low, in a way Finley had never seen the man before. Defeat was strong in his demeanor, like a cologne he’d bathed in.

  Ever so slowly Knight pulled his head up until his eyes were resting firmly on Finley. Automatically Finley switched his gaze to the carpet. So automatic was the response he didn’t even realize he did it anymore. Looked away. Cowered at the presence of the man in front of him. The man who he’d known his entire life and yet had never truly seen. From his peripheral yes, he’d seen Knight. In dream travels he’d seen him. And yet, Finley didn’t truly know the man who spent the majority of his life training him with a strange pride.

  “Look at me, Finley,” Knight said.

  “No,” Finley said. And it wasn’t because he was afraid it was a trap but rather because he didn’t want to. He was angry. Irate. Unable to deal completely with the events that had been unveiled.

  “You think I’m bad. You despise me. You always have, even when the other kids worshipped me. Do you know I wasn’t always this way? She fell in love with me, your mother, Cynthia. Could she have really done that if I was pure evil?”

  “I saw the past,” Finley said, using a confident voice he never dared to direct at Knight.

  “What does that mean?”

  “I saw you suffocate that baby. It was wrong before, but now it’s personal, now that I know that baby was me,” Finley said. “And I saw that crazy look in your eyes. I saw you go to my mother after you thought you’d murdered me. I saw you tell her she was free because you’d lifted her of her obligation to Dave. You’d gotten rid of his child. And I saw that she loved you in the heartbreak that crossed her face, but not until then did she realize she loved a demon.”

  “That’s NOT true. Losing her. Losing you. Losing the circus broke me. That’s why I’ve become who you know. And I’ll be the first to admit that my ways are unorthodox, but—”

  “You created an army of Dream Traveler children to steal,” Finley dared to say.

  “Don’t you forget your place, boy,” Knight said.

  “Why? What if I do? Will you have Sebastian kill me? Will you curse me? Take more from me? You stole my life. Imprisoned me. Enslaved me. What worse can you do?” Finley said, his voice bold, startling him.

  “I did what I did because I’d lost you. I’d lost my child. And decided all others would be born to be great and serve. That I’d teach them and do what Dave never did. I would make them flawless.”

  “Are you listening to yourself?” Finley said. Who was this guy standing up to Knight? It didn’t feel like him anymore.

  “Are you not incredible, Finley? You move like the winds blows. You are more intelligent than those with a dozen collegiate degrees. I did that for you. I did that for all my kids. Yes, I made you steal but only so I could continue to help you to thrive. And now there’s forty prodigies making waves out there. They may hate me. You may hate me, but you can’t discount that I made you a super human. Can’t you see what Gwendolyn and Sebastian see? That I break away your weaknesses and make you great.”

  Finley couldn’t argue with Knight. He did discipline children until they had superior skills, but he did it in the worst ways. Since he couldn�
�t argue against this he said, “And what are you doing to Vagabond Circus? Slowly killing it like you did to me when I was an hour old.” And just then, for the first time ever, Finley pulled his gaze up and looked his father in the eyes. “You’re suffocating this circus. You should leave it. Let us be free of you.”

  Knight shook his head. “That’s never going to happen. Here is the only place I feel close to her. And look, it brought you back to me. This place is my destiny.”

  “Then if you are going to stay, lift the curse,” Finley said.

  Knight narrowed his small eyes. “Why?”

  “Because your child didn’t die. I’m right here. Don’t steal the happiness of others anymore.”

  “You mean Zuma’s?” Knight said, sounding satisfied. He had in fact found his son’s weakness.

  Finley only stared at his father with a vengeance he couldn’t so blatantly show before.

  “No, Finley. There’s some curses that need to remain. My child was still stolen from me through lies and deceit.” And then a laugh that sounded more like tools rattling in a toolbox echoed from Knight’s chest. “To think the child that was my star student all these years is actually my son. I should have known.” Finley, who hadn’t watched his father speak before, never realized how strange the man looked. Knight had traits that mirrored an extraterrestrial being, or so Finley thought. The ones with the long narrow heads, willowy builds, and white, almost transparent skin. He was so similar to the aliens that were reported to have crashed at Area 51. This Martian-looking man was Finley’s father and this made him feel more like a freak than ever before.

  “And to think you could have killed me a second time. You did kill the other kids I was raised with,” Finley said.

  “They killed themselves. The weak don’t survive. You did because you’re my son. You were my first named kid. My most valued kid. I should have seen before now that my blood runs in your veins.”

  “The very same blood of mine you’ve spilled so many times,” Finley said, thinking of the long scars that ran the length of his back.

  “Finley, I only ever sought to make you stronger.”

  “Yes, I realize that, Master,” Finley said, a cold irony in his words.

  Knight stood and when he did he was taller than Finley but not by as much as he was with other people since Finley was well over six feet tall. “You cannot hate me. I have worked too hard to rectify your death. Now that I know you’re alive—”

  “Are you finally going to give me my freedom? Not punish me if I leave?”

  Knight stepped forward. “I have only just found you. My punishments will be far worse if you leave me now.”

  “I wish you weren’t my father,” was all Finley said.

  “Finley, you realize that I’m forcing you to stay because I know you and I belong together. That’s why I found you at that orphanage. Don’t leave. Don’t make me do things I don’t want to do. Don’t make me punish the ones you chose to love instead of me.”

  Regarding the man in front of him, Finley stood for a long silent moment. He knew what Knight was capable of. He knew that he would find ways to punish him that would scar his soul. And Finley knew he couldn’t withstand living with those scars. As he was since birth, Finley was cursed, cursed by the father he never wanted.

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Unable to focus enough to dream travel and too overwhelmed to sleep, Finley was exhausted when he walked into the big top the next morning. Word had spread and now everyone knew he was the spawn of the evil circus owner. Almost all of the performers and crew were in the big top getting ready for the show that afternoon. It would be the last one in Santa Barbara and then Vagabond Circus would load up and caravan south to the next city on the tour, Oxnard, California.

  Most looked up when Finley walked into the big top. Those who didn’t were elbowed by their neighbor and before too long every single eye in the tent was focused on the acrobat. Some whispered. Some pretended not to be staring at him as they tried to pinpoint exactly the resemblance he shared with his father. Knight’s features were too sharp, his jaw looking to be cut from stone. And Finley, although angular, had a softness to the curves of his face. Where Knight was too tall, too thin, and too pale, Finley was perfect. The acrobat was the perfect height, had a healthy build and an olive tone to his skin. And unlike Knight, he had a full head of dark brown hair.

  Finley paused and regarded the people around him with a cold stare. Then he sighed and trudged passed all the polite people who had a hundred questions for him and none of the gall to ask them. The lack of sleep made Finley feel on the brink of insanity. He wanted to laugh hysterically at the elephant in the room and then also throw a fit. He wished he could stomp around the big top and tell everyone off. Instead he only muttered under his breath on his way to the practice tent at the back.

  “Finley.” It was Knight’s voice, and it made the chatter around him pause.

  Finley halted too, taking several seconds before he turned around to face his father. The owner of the circus sat in his usual place in the front row, Sebastian on his right, Gwendolyn on his left.

  “Get over here,” Knight said, his scratchy voice low but easy to hear from the far side of the big top due to the silent crowd.

  Finley, as he had done last night, looked directly at the ringmaster. The sight of his father made his stomach churn with unease. “I have to go warm up,” he said, his voice flat.

  Around the tent there were several startled gasps from performers and crew members. Sebastian narrowed his eyes at Finley.

  Finley had only stated a fact, but he had in essence told Knight no. And no one knew that Knight had given Finley permission to look at him, had asked him to, so to everyone in the big top he looked like a guy who wanted to die. And what no one knew was Finley didn’t really care if he did.

  “You can warm up later,” Knight said. “You and Zuma don’t need to practice for a couple more hours because firstly, you look like shit. And secondly, I told her to stay in her trailer since her headaches seem to keep getting worse.”

  Finley narrowed his eyes at his father. He desperately wanted to go check on Zuma. The headaches would be his fault. Knight was going to keep punishing Finley until he fully complied with everything he wanted. And Finley was afraid the list of demands would grow now that he was his son. It had been what Knight wanted most and the reason he’d bred children. To find the perfect heir. To replace the son he thought he killed. And this fate wasn’t ironic, Finley thought, it was downright morbid.

  “Sebastian, get up,” Knight said.

  The boy didn’t hesitate, so engrained in him was his training. Each of his movements was precise as he stood and then froze in front of Knight.

  “Now move,” Knight said.

  “Where, Master?” Sebastian said.

  “I don’t care,” Knight said with a frustrated growl. “Patrol the big top. Just get out of that seat. Now Finley, take the seat on my right. I want you beside me while we review the horrid acts for tonight’s show.”

  “I’m fine,” Finley said, staring straight at his father.

  Knight’s almost nonexistent lip curled into a half smile, half snarl. “That’s cute,” he said. And in the tent people moved but everyone’s attention was on the father and son exchange. “You think that your blood connection relieves you of your obligations to me.” A laugh that sounded more like scissors cutting cardboard flew out of Knight’s mouth. “Don’t you see you are more obligated to me than ever before? Believe me when I tell you that you can’t sever the ties to your parents or family. Even when they’re dead.”

  “I’m not interested in being your right-hand soldier. Sebastian, take your place,” Finley said, switching his gaze to the boy still standing beside Knight.

  “How dare you defy him? How dare you give me orders?” Sebastian said and stepped three times until he was right in front of Finley. “I should put my hands on you right now.”

  “We both know you can’t catch me
,” Finley said and in a blur of movement he relocated so he was behind Sebastian, speaking over his shoulder. The boy turned, murder written on his face. With his hand outstretched, he stepped forward as Finley took quick super speed steps backwards, a cruel smile on his face.

  “Stop this,” Knight said.

  Sebastian brought his gaze down, but Finley simply crossed his arms and regarded his father with the contempt he deserved.

  “Sebastian, get away from my son. And if I ever find you close to him then your head will explode. Do I make myself CLEAR?” Knight said.

  Sebastian’s eyes grew into slits but he nodded. “Yes, Master.”

  “Now, go patrol, boy,” Knight said. “And Finley, take the seat next to me or you will be performing solo tonight.”

  The threat was so clear in his words that Finley’s throat froze mid-swallow. In his mind he was screaming, furious and cursed and frantic with worry for the girl he couldn’t save no matter how hard he tried. However, he didn’t show any of this emotion, only turned and took the seat on the other side of Knight. He hadn’t been seated for more than a second when the smell of something acidic, like a cleaning chemical, knocked into his nostrils. A shadow fell down on Finley from overhead as Knight leaned over him, blocking the bright lights of the big top.

  “You are my son,” Knight said, his breath colliding into the side of Finley’s head. “You already perform as he should. But now you need to start acting like him. I’ll be patient training you, but just know your stubbornness will mean others suffer. If I make myself clear then answer in a way that proves it.”