by Karin Shah
He was being an ass. Lu had been his rock for more than five years. He didn’t even want to think about how desperately lonely he’d been before Lu’d burst into his life. Always alone in the crowd.
Her friendship hadn’t fixed everything, but it helped.
He rolled his head back to peek at the ceiling to make sure it hadn’t creeped closer and tried not to imagine the shiny bumps on his head and spine—that way led to madness—then released a resigned breath. “Okay, okay. I’ll tell you what I remember, but it’s not much.”
Lu rested her arms on the table and propped her chin on her hands.
He grimaced, trying to find a place to start. “I was abducted.”
She opened her mouth, probably with questions.
Before she could ask, he continued, “As I mentioned, I can’t say how old I was, where I was when they took me, or where I was kept. I do remember I looked normal. I think I was pretty tall for my age, but I wasn’t seven feet.”
He fingered a strand of hair pooling on his shoulder. Only the ends were wet now. “My hair was short. Almost a buzz cut. I think I was a foster kid, but it’s hazy, so I can’t say for sure. I guess I must have been held for a long time because my hair was down past my shoulders when I came to and found myself on the street, and of course, we all figured that this . . . work.” He glanced at his arms. “Would have taken a considerable amount of time.
“Without my memory, I don’t know where I was born or who my parents were. I have no way of getting documents.”
Lu’s brow furrowed. “But you drive. You have a loan for the truck.”
“Señora Flores went to the DMV with me. At that time, if you were under eighteen, an adult’s word was good enough for a driver’s permit. After that an expired license is enough for renewal. As for my loan, la jefa took it out in her name. I pay her every month and she takes a small cut and uses the rest to pay the loan.”
Lu bobbed her head. “Wow! I knew you had problems . . .”
He batted at her shoulder, grateful for her slip back into joking. He desperately needed some levity to extinguish his lingering panic.
She scratched the back of her head, her nails making a dry scraping sound. “Now, I really need a cigarette.”
Maybe if he aimed for flippancy he wouldn’t succumb to his fears and run screaming from the trailer. “If I’ve got some kind of disease, I might as well take up smoking after I pay off the trailer.”
He must have missed his target, because her face screwed up. “Don’t go nuts. I don’t think it’s cancer, in any case.”
He was too afraid she was wrong to take that at face value. “Thanks, Doctor Mirayeva.”
She punched his bicep. “Hey, I was an army medic.”
The reminder soothed him, but he couldn’t help needling her. “I’ll be sure to come to you if I ever get shot.”
She scowled at him. “I had to know what skin cancer looked like. It’s bumpy and irregular. Your bumps are symmetrical, and perfectly round. They look more like . . .”
She was silent for a minute.
“Like what?” He probed the ridges of his cheekbones with his fingers. “Like what the elephant man had?” Since the elephant man had travelled in a sideshow, Roan had always felt a kinship with him, but thinking he might have the same disease opened a hole in his chest.
She pressed her lips together. “No. Joseph Merrick had uncontrollable bone growth. It wasn’t regular like yours is. Your growths look like . . . Shit. I don’t know, like . . . horns.”
“Horns? How the hell?”
She lifted her shoulders. “That’s what they look like.” She sighed and shook her head. “I don’t think whoever took you did body mods on you at all.”
Roan swallowed. The hole in his chest was big enough to put a fist through now and the ceiling refused to stay where it belonged. “What do you think they did? How else would I have gotten scales?” He gestured to his eyes. “Or these implants? Or this height.”
She steepled her hands in front of her mouth and nose, then lowered them. “I think you were kidnapped because someone had a breakthrough in gene therapy and wanted to do illegal human trials.”
She licked her lips and fixed solemn eyes on his face. “And I think whatever they did to your genes, it’s not done.”
Chapter 4
A burst of fire heated Sofia’s face outside the tent housing the sideshow.
Lu, the fire eater, controlled the flame, leaning down so the young boy in front of her could see as she put the flame out in her mouth. The triad of patrons watching, an older snowy-haired woman, a younger woman who looked to be the boy’s mother and a man, likely the father, clapped and oohed. Lu bowed with a flourish, clearly at the end of her routine.
The family entered the sideshow tent, leaving Sofia alone with Lu, or as alone as you could be when crowds of patrons strolled the fairgrounds.
Sofia clapped too. They’d met earlier in the day when Tia had been introducing her around. “That was great.”
Lu curtsied playfully. “Thanks!”
Having your boss come by while you worked could be off-putting, so Sofia grinned and canted her head. “Sorry to interrupt. I figured trying out the attractions would be a good way to learn the ropes, and get to know everyone.”
Lu waved away the explanation. “No problem. I wouldn’t have lasted in the army if I couldn’t perform under pressure.”
The tone of the words was a bit flirtatious and Sofia’s cheeks warmed. “I guess not.” She scuffed the dirt with her sneaker. “So the carnival must be a big change from the regimentation of the army.”
“You’re telling me.” Lu rolled her eyes. “Truth is, I expected to come out of the service and become an EMT, but the certification hoops were so numerous, I joined the carnival while I waited, and just stayed.”
“I’m glad you did.”
“If you’re going to go in and see Roan’s routine be sure to tell him that.”
“You guys are pretty close, huh?”
Lu nodded and moved a hair closer, lowering her voice confidentially. “To tell you the truth, he’s a pain in the ass, but I love the big guy.”
For some reason the statement constricted Sofia’s muscles. “Uh-huh.”
Lu held up her palms. “Purely platonically, of course.”
“Of course.” Sofia agreed, though she didn’t think it a given at all, until she noticed Lu trace an appreciative gaze down the backside of a passing blonde. The realization that Lu wasn’t interested in men made Sofia’s joints feel oddly loose. All the tension in her body sapped away.
Oblivious to Sofia’s feelings, Lu continued. “I saw some gnarly shit in the army. For a while, it was hard to get close to normal people.” She shrugged. “I could tell Roan had seen some shit. I guess birds of a feather flock together.”
They chatted about this and that for several more minutes, but another group of customers approached, and Sofia ducked into the sideshow tent, Lu’s words still occupying her mind. He did give off the watchful mien of someone who hadn’t had an easy life. What serious shit had Roan seen?
Canvas divided the sideshow tent into individual rooms. Sofia meandered through the maze of set pieces, making notes of things that needed to be repaired and speaking briefly with each performer, until she came to Roan’s set.
His area resembled a cage. Thick, solid-looking bars separated him from the customer. For some reason, the idea made her skin crawl. She discarded the feeling with a shake of her head. The bars were just props, no matter how realistic they appeared.
Though she couldn’t see him, the rumblings of a ticking growl started as she neared his enclosure, as if he were about to begin his act, but he stopped abruptly.
He wore a stylized loincloth and that was all. Her mouth dry, she approached
the bars, trying not to stare at the plentiful expanse of exposed skin. She halted in front of the faux cage.
He folded his arms and regarded her from under lowered brows. “Oh, it’s you.”
She overlooked the brusque delivery. “It’s me. I’m just familiarizing myself with the workings of the carnival.”
She inclined her chin toward the tablet she clutched like a shield, extending it away from her body and withdrew a stylus. She hadn’t been so formal with the other performers, but she needed something to do with her hands.
She opened her notes and poised the stylus over the form. He watched her without speaking, his scrutiny palpable. The warm air in the tent felt dense and resistant. Her fingers trembled a little. God, she hoped he didn’t notice. “Is there anything we can do to make your routine more effective?”
“Not really.”
Okay.
She tried again. “Is there anything you need? Anything that needs replacing?”
“No.”
Her prepared questions exhausted, she twirled the stylus in her fingers, but under his electric gaze such dexterity was beyond her and it fell, rolling in the dirt to the edge of the bars at his bare feet.
Face burning, she dove to scoop it up at the same moment he did.
The bars were far enough apart that their skulls collided through the gap. At the impact, black and white splotches exploded behind her eyes. Shit! Without thinking, she threw up her hand to rub the location of the blow and her wrist snagged on something.
Unable to move her arm, she stood and eyed the culprit. Her bracelet had snarled in the hair on top of Roan’s head.
“Ouch! Fuck!” he swore when he tried to straighten, apparently not realizing the situation. Her arm couldn’t reach that high, and he must have yanked his hair pretty good in the effort.
Mortified, she resisted the urge to cover her face with her free hand. “I’m so sorry!”
He grunted. “Well, that doesn’t solve our problem.”
Though the rebuke stung, she passed over the slight. No doubt the scalp adjacent the snared strands smarted like hell. “I can’t reach you. You’ll have to kneel.”
He hesitated for a second, then complied.
A tingle flared in her at the sight of him going to his knees in front of her. His head was now even with her breasts. His breath dusted her breastbone and cleavage. Her rebellious body contracted. Damn, now her cheeks glowed red for an entirely different reason.
Concentrate on freeing him, idiota! If she stayed on task, maybe her heart would stop pounding. She parsed through the silky strands of his hair to the place where the clasp was caught.
“Anytime now,” he said.
Really? If the whole thing weren’t her fault, she’d slap him. His rudeness cleared enough of the spell his proximity had cast to steady her fingers. She organized her thoughts and unhooked the clasp. With her wrist unfettered, she hastily slid the bracelet from his hair.
“Thanks,” he said, but somehow the grateful word seemed to drag the unspoken words, “you clumsy idiot,” after them. He stood, towering over her and folded his arms again, surveying her with narrowed eyes. “We done?”
Later, she couldn’t have said whether she’d answered or simply squeaked, and raced out of there.
~ ~ ~
“Sofia!”
She waved to the speaker, a rangy, blond carnie at the nearby balloon pop booth. He waved back, swiped at his sweat-darkened hairline, then turned his attention to a small child balanced on his toes, pointing at the stuffed toys dangling from the walls. She shrugged as she realized Carl had just been saying hello and strolled down the fairway toward her domain, the cash office, waving at the barkers and game operators who called out to her. She’d been here almost a week and the carnies had welcomed her with open arms.
If only the sideshow cast were as friendly. Damnit! She was thinking about Roan again. Ugh! Their encounter in the tent had paraded through her mind off and on far too many times since then.
Sofia ducked her head to peer into the rectangular cash office window, catching the eye of Carlita, Carl’s teenaged daughter who’d covered for her while she’d interviewed a new hire named Tara.
Carlita nodded, making her blond Afro quiver and stood. Carl’s wife was African-American and their daughter was a lovely blend of her parents. She stretched, gathered up her school books, yanked open the door and came out.
Grabbing the door before it could slam, Sofia patted the passing teenager on the back. “How’s school?” Not unexpectedly, Carlita shrugged. Sofia hid a grin. “Well, let me know if you need any help. I aced Algebra.”
The willowy teenager’s eyes widened. “Really? Even before e-school?”
Sofia sighed and squeezed the girl’s shoulder. There was no need to go into the begging it had required for Tia to allow her to attend a high school that allowed boarding. “Yep.”
Carlita bit her lip. “Thanks!” She turned to walk away, then wheeled back and tilted her chin, lifting perfectly arched eyebrows. “Ah, next dark day?”
Their next dark—or off day—was Monday. Sofia dipped a shoulder. “You got it!”
Carlita smiled and jiggled a little in place, hugging her books to her chest, then spun and trotted off to her parents’ battered tent.
Sofia shook her head at the teenager’s speed. She was a hard worker and deserved a chance to make her own choices in life, whatever her parents did to make ends meet.
I’m lucky to have such a great group of people to work with.
Sure, like any co-workers, they had their disagreements, her tia was always full of stories when they spoke on the phone, but for the most part they were like a family.
Sofia had missed this. Since she’d had to work in the summers to make up the shortfall between her scholarships, school fees, and housing costs, Tia had visited her at her school.
Traveling with the carnival as an elementary and middle school student had had its trials, but the camaraderie of the carnies and excitement of a new town every week made up for a lot.
She closed the door behind her, sighing as the click of the latch moved the walls a fraction. The plywood structure seemed solid, but collapsed for transportation. If sometimes she felt as foundationless and temporary as her workspace, well, others had a lot more to complain about.
She sighed again. So much for hoping taking her place in the carnival would dispel the feeling. Ugh! She ran a hand through her curls. Loneliness was just a state of mind. She had everything and everyone she needed right here.
She dropped into the folding chair in front of the laminate counter she used as a desk and lifted the hair at her nape to let her damp skin catch the uneven gusts from the rusty, squeaky fan bolted high in the corner. Sometimes when she was really tired, the ancient fan seemed to chant wheezy words, like Florida, Florida, Florida or January, January, but today the noise just lanced through her temples to give her a headache.
“Knock, knock!” The man outside at the fly-specked window sing-songed the phase, as well as knocked on the plywood side of the booth. The sound of his voice made her flinch a little. She lowered the hand that had automatically risen to massage her aching forehead, but mustered a weak smile. “Guy! How are you?” She carefully pronounced his name “Gee” in the French way.
The carnies came from all over the world, and she always made sure to call people as they preferred to be called. Why his preference annoyed her she couldn’t say. Maybe it was because everything about him irritated her?
He took her perfunctory greeting as an invitation, leaning in and crossing his brawny forearms on the counter. A gleaming white smile creased his handsome features under his ironic, lumberjack-inspired beard. She was not a long beard fan, but even she had to admit he carried it off with flare. He wore a lightweight beige suit, but had rolled
the sleeves of his jacket up. It should have looked tacky, too bad he carried that off, as well.
Every single (and some not so single) woman in the carnival had thrown themselves at his feet since he’d become their new backer, but despite his fancy haircut, tall, muscular frame and handsome face, something about him left her cold.
Unfortunately, no matter the wealth of female attention tossed in his lap, he’d glommed on to her like a leech since the first day she’d been back and she couldn’t seem to shake him off.
Lord knew why. She’d battled her weight her entire life and men had been only too eager to tell her she’d be pretty—if only she lost a few pounds. Maybe he thought he could get something out of dating her?
“How is the queen of the carnival today?”
God, he was smarmy. Too bad they needed his money.
She tried not to laugh and opened the cash box to check the receipts that had come in while she’d been away. “I’m fine, Guy. What can I help you with?”
He made a pouty face. She pressed her lips together to snuff out a groan. He’d probably practiced that expression in the mirror. “How about joining me for dinner in town?”
She struggled to find an excuse she hadn’t already used and settled for, “No can do. I’ll have to close things up, so I won’t be free until after midnight.”
He had the gall to reach into the tiny office and snatch up her hand. His clammy grip brought her long-ago lunch up to burn her throat. “We don’t open until four p.m. I’m sure we can find an all-night diner.”
Sofia swallowed the roiling in her gut. Why couldn’t he take a hint? How many times had she said “no?” Why did he persist in thinking she was playing hard to get?
She extricated her hand from Guy’s grip, smiling to soften the refusal even though she felt like smacking the asshole. “I’m sorry.”