The closer she got to the carousel, the cooler Caroline thought it was.
Most carousels were ornate candy confections of a ride, and Caroline had enjoyed them almost all her life. When she’d been much younger and half the height she was now, she’d walk round and round the carousels to find just the right horse, one with roses around its saddle or a pink mane or a unicorn horn, something special that spoke to her at that moment.
At first glance, this carousel seemed a darker version of the carousels of her youth. Literally darker—with a base palette of rich crimson, aged brass and the deeper jewel tones of the mounts.
At second glance, though, Caroline quickly realized this wasn’t one of her childhood carousels.
Some of the former carousels had carried a few non-traditional mounts. She remembered roosters, zebras, giraffes, a sea horse, even a bear.
This carousel also had some variety beyond the albeit gothic collection of regular horses—including a zombie horse, a horse that was little more than a saddled skeleton, a Lovecraftian octopus, a giant spider and two half-naked men strapped up in horseplay gear, including bits in their mouths.
“Oh my God, is this even legal?” Caroline asked, more fascinated than horrified.
“As long as nothing obscene shows,” Madoc answered. “Do you like it?”
“I think my babysitting clients would fire me if I brought their kids here, but yeah, this is sick.”
She said that, but there were younger teens and even a boy who looked no older than ten on the ride.
There was a big sign at the ticket booth detailing the strict age rules—children must be accompanied by a parent and so on. Right next to it, a more stylized sign read— Adults Only after 8 p.m. Wayward children will be fed to clowns. She’d seen that sign other places in the circus as well. Liability issues could be a bitch, but this way no one could reasonably claim that they hadn’t known little Billy wasn’t allowed to wander the circus alone at night.
Although why anyone would bring little Billy to this kind of circus in the first place, even in broad daylight, was beyond her. It wasn’t the freak show that was the problem—it was the leather.
Caroline wasn’t a parent, but she could still silently judge.
“I’m glad you think so. I had it specially commissioned myself,” Madoc said. “Let’s wait until the ride ends. Then you can inspect the machine before the next ride begins. It’s fairly straightforward. The control board is labeled, and you’ll have tomorrow morning to practice anything more complicated than the autopilot program. I think you’ll find your experience with light and sound boards will be useful.”
“Okay, seriously, how did you know about that?” Caroline asked. She was certain she hadn’t said anything out loud about her theater background.
Madoc dialed his smile up to enigmatic. It suited him.
Caroline felt like a kid again as she waited for the ride to end so she could get a closer look at the mounts. The detail was exquisite, not the color-outside-the-lines of cheaper models. The colors were rich, unfaded, the wood carvings somehow both stylized and lifelike at the same time. Madoc gazed up at his carousel as though it was a piece of art. And he clearly treated it like one, ensuring that it stayed this nice in spite of the wear and tear that came from constant travel, use and patrons that had no respect for its value.
Once the ride ended, Madoc jumped right on instead of following the progression of the line and beckoned her up. He was the boss. He could skip the line. Caroline, however, quickly checked that she would have made it onto the carousel anyway if she’d stayed in line. Then she climbed on.
“You’ll have plenty of time to look at the mounts more closely, but go ahead and have a walk around the circuit. Then take a ride with me,” Madoc said.
With a cheeky grin, he sat on the back of one of the saddled men. The mount looked almost gruesome with the spiral pole through his stocky back, like the hapless victim of cenobites. It was so S and M, Caroline couldn’t believe it had gotten past the censors.
Close up, it was that much easier to see how this wasn’t some shoddy, back-lot carousel, like the ones in the low-rent carnivals that sometimes set up shop in this field or in outlet mall parking lots.
This carousel was quite large, three rows deep. She couldn’t stop and examine every little detail now, but she fully intended to at her first opportunity. Caroline guessed that there were things about these carved animals that even the cast and crew hadn’t noticed yet.
But during only a quick walk-through of the ride, she could tell that the detail wasn’t just exquisite. It was the work of a greatly underappreciated artist.
There were a few things she hadn’t been able to see from where she and Madoc had been standing—like the bloody human arm that the zombie horse held in its mouth, the whip marks on the side of the more slender mounted man, the red eyes on the sparkly unicorn and a horse whose legs and tail had turned into squid tentacles that reached across the aisle to wrap around the pole of the relatively normal horse next to it.
With every step she took, she knew she’d sign any contract that Madoc or the Ringmaster put in front of her. It didn’t matter if the repetitive music drove her batshit crazy. This was awesome.
The black-clad man in the clockwork center of the carousel who ran the machine, however, had the same blank expression as many of the other members of the staff. His bored, deadened eyes stared straight in front of him at the buttons on the control board.
Really, it was as though people of Arcanium had three modes—the overly expressive, the complete lack of expression and the mysterious. Maybe he’d just been doing this too long. Even so, Caroline didn’t think that being surrounded by giant clock gears, filigree and amazing works of art would ever suck for her.
“I saved you a seat,” Madoc said when she made it all the way around back to him.
He nodded to the engineer, who started the ride as Caroline pulled herself onto a hippocampus so realistic that it appeared about five minutes away from dragging everyone on the carousel down into a watery grave. She traced the fine carving that made up the detail of its seaweed-like mane.
“As you can see, it practically runs itself, unless you want to make specialized changes. But the autopilot program simply requires a push of a button,” Madoc explained.
Caroline forced herself to look at Madoc’s face when she wasn’t looking in on the control board. She was proud that she was mostly able to succeed.
He was easy on the eyes, no getting around that. It wasn’t that she wanted a night of passionate love-making with the boss—especially a boss that was clearly already taken—but there was nothing wrong with enjoying the pretty, most of the time. Anyway, he was the one who had chosen to go around without a shirt while wearing very fitted leather trousers. He had to feel other people’s eyes on him, especially the way he sat on that damn horse.
“How do you like my carousel?” Madoc asked, smiling as though he already knew the answer.
“It’s fantastic,” Caroline replied. She didn’t think he’d oppose to some sincere, non-sycophantic gushing. “And you want me to run it?”
“I do so like when someone shows appreciation for true craftsmanship. Add to that a willingness to sacrifice and fondness for the strange and macabre… Well, let’s just say that I’m glad you built up the courage to approach me,” Madoc said. “It’s been a while since we’ve had a staff change around here. Arcanium’s repertoire could use something new.”
“I’m not sure how much new I can offer,” Caroline said, “but I’ll do my best.”
“I’m sure you will.”
Caroline didn’t know what to make of his response, so she just held onto her pole and enjoyed the ride. It was faster than she was used to a carousel moving, closer to a gallop than a canter, which only made it more exciting.
When the carousel came to a halt once again, Madoc slid off his horse and helped Caroline dismount.
“Leave,” he said to the present engineer. �
�The big cats need some tending.”
It surprised her to hear such a cold, imperious tone come from him when he had otherwise been a gentleman with her.
The engineer didn’t react, however, simply got up from the controls, opened the scrolled clockwork gate then walked off the carousel without looking back. Caroline watched him leave, furrowing her brow. There was jaded, and then there was dead inside.
“Not enough coffee?” Caroline asked.
“He’s just a trained zombie without it,” Madoc replied. “Don’t concern yourself with him. Go ahead, Caroline. Try it. Revel in the seat of power.”
Caroline giggled as she opened the gate and stepped in. It was bigger than it looked from the outside. She actually had room to stretch her legs.
Madoc leaned against the clockwork cage while she inspected the board. “The carousel holds many secrets, but hopefully not too many here,” he said.
He was right. It was mostly self-explanatory and well-labeled. The speed levels had a taped marker for recommended speed. There were even lighting ambience levels marked with Exciting, Foreboding, Haunting, Electric and Sepia. Caroline could already tell she was going to have fun figuring this out, the way she’d had fun learning the light board in high school. There was also the aptly named Auto Program button.
Caroline waited for about half the ride to fill up. When she gauged that no one else was coming on this turn, she pressed the button. Madoc stepped away from the brass scrolls and gears and held onto one of the stationary poles as she watched the ride progress for the riders and observed how the levels rose on the board. If she was reading it right, there were ways to pre-program up to ten different sequences, a button for each program, although the Auto Program button was worn enough that Caroline questioned whether the previous engineer had ever used anything else.
Checking under the board, Caroline found a small cubbyhole with a notebook, a few pens and a faded paperback.
“There will be times that are not as busy as others. You’re permitted to use your phone or computer or read a book to satisfy your boredom…as long as a customer never suffers,” Madoc said.
“Even if it means only entertaining one customer,” Caroline said.
“Any confirmed complaint that you weren’t paying attention will have serious consequences.”
“I understand, sir.”
“If you need to use the facilities, tell the staff member managing the line that you’ll be right back. He’ll assure the customers of your return. If you need food or water, let him know and he’ll retrieve it for you,” Madoc explained.
“My own personal slave. Never had one of those before.”
Madoc smiled. “He is here to secure the carousel, so yes, part of his job is to serve you.”
“What’s his name?” Caroline asked. “If I’m going to be ordering someone to fetch and carry, I should probably know his name.”
“Your faithful servant’s name is Geoff,” Madoc replied. “Do you think you can manage the carousel until seven-thirty? At that point, you may request something to eat and drink from the booths while the rest of the circus shuts down in preparation for the evening performance. You haven’t seen it yet, so you should take the opportunity to see who you’ll be sharing your life with for the next year.”
“You’re doing that thing again,” Caroline said as the carousel began to slow. Slower was good, because all this spinning in the swivel chair to meet his eyes while he was talking to her was making her dizzy. She was glad she wasn’t prone to motion sickness, because things going around and around her all afternoon and evening would get gross really fast. “How do you know I haven’t been to a performance yet? How do you know I didn’t scope this place out before asking for a job?”
“I do that thing often,” Madoc said.
“I think I can manage to push a button many times in succession for the time being. I’ll figure out how to program this baby by next week, I’m sure,” Caroline said.
“Excellent, Miss Barrett.”
“Now you’re just showing off.”
“When I’m showing off, it’ll be far more remarkable than simply divining your name,” Madoc said. “Before I return to my work so you can begin yours…your new home is under your feet. It’s not the largest cabin, but it has air conditioning and heat and provides a bed as well as storage for your things. I hope you’re not claustrophobic.”
“Wouldn’t you know?” Caroline challenged.
“Then I don’t have to worry,” Madoc replied, not missing a beat. “During the hours when the circus isn’t open, I don’t want you to feel like you have to use the portable toilets we have when public bathrooms are not available for us. Our caravan is just on the other side of the big top, across from the animal compound. Follow the Christmas lights. Many of our cast members sleep in motorhomes almost as small as your cabin, or they share space with each other.”
“I get it. Circuses are no place for privacy,” Caroline said. It turned out circuses had a lot in common with theater. She could live with that. Her freshman dorm had been the size of a postage stamp too, so she wasn’t worried about living in cramped quarters. Yet. That this carousel was not only her job site but her home was…weird, but oddly practical.
“What about the guy that just left? Where will he sleep?” Caroline asked.
“Many of our non-cast staff rough it outdoors, or under the tents in inclement weather. Don’t worry about them.”
“Why do I get preferential treatment?” Caroline asked, narrowing her eyes.
“Because I’ve been intending to make the carousel engineer a part of the costumed cast, more representative of our circus,” Madoc said. “I think you would be excellent as cast, though not a formal member of the performing circus. It is my fortune more than yours, Caroline, that you happened by our humble circus and asked me for this job just when I had resolved to make the change.”
“Why?” Caroline asked. “I’m not special. I mean, I’m not different.”
“Wait until Kitty gets through with you,” Madoc said. “You might not even recognize yourself. But I think you’ll like it. As I was saying, if you do not wish to use the more fragrant public facilities afterhours, you may visit my RV for our toilet and shower. It’s the brown and much larger vehicle in the caravan. The Ringmaster’s is cream-colored. He won’t appreciate the intrusion. If my home is…shall we say busily occupied? Then try Valorie’s RV. It’s white with black stripes and accents. If hers is just as occupied, talk to Kitty. She lives in her exhibition tent and rarely takes residence in her trailer. She’ll likely grant you admission to her facilities. None of us lock our doors, so just walk in.”
“As long as the RV isn’t rocking?” Caroline asked. She was only blushing because the wind had died down and the engineer cage was warm in spite of a working fan. She’d take that excuse to her grave.
“We understand each other,” Madoc said. “You rightfully said that there isn’t much room for privacy in a circus. You shouldn’t feel too embarrassed if you do stumble upon a private moment.”
“I don’t think I’ll have much choice on how embarrassed I’ll feel, sir, to be honest,” Caroline said. She ran the back of her hand over her upper lip, which had begun to sweat. Her throat felt dry.
Although, if she were still being honest with herself, working in theater hadn’t been much different in that respect either. Prop closets, dressing rooms, bathrooms, even right on stage… And she’d been a part of such a clandestine, forbidden meeting once. Okay, twice. It was part and parcel of the drama department.
“Fair enough. I’ll have to let Maya know that the carousel is no longer available as well,” Madoc said, still playing the slightly wicked gentleman as Caroline flushed even hotter. “And before you ask or think of asking, our crew cleans the carousel every morning. I demand that they be exceedingly thorough. You needn’t worry about safety or cleanliness here.”
“Um…”
“Merely offering you a little peace of mind.” Ma
doc leaned in against the aged brass and met her eyes. “So I have given you instruction and suggestion. You know what it is I require of you. Do you still wish to take the job as Arcanium’s carousel engineer—and all that entails—for at least a year, after which time we can assess your future?”
“Absolutely. I’m actually looking forward to it.”
Madoc smiled. For a moment, the rest of the world fell away, and there was only the fortune teller, his hazel eyes almost incandescent. It must have been the heat and her euphoria from being employed at last—and at such a cool place—because the moment passed as quickly as it had weighed upon her.
“Excellent,” Madoc said, almost a purr. “I hope you enjoy your stay, Caroline. I really do. Come to the performance tonight. I’m sure you’ll find it quite enlightening. And if the accommodations below are too tight for you, I can arrange for the purchase of a small motorhome. It’s well within our budget.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Caroline said.
“As am I,” Madoc replied.
Well, he would know.
Chapter Three
The carousel should have prepared her for the circus ring.
The moveable feast of Arcanium as well as its caravan of mostly old and small RVs and beat-up trailer trucks might easily convince a person that the talent was as tawdry as the first impression of the circus—plain canvas tents, quickly erected booths made of low-cost wood, everything crafted so that it could be put up and taken down at a moment’s notice.
An unobservant or indifferent person might never notice that the costumes were spare in the sense of not covering a lot of skin, but excellently fitted, of quality material and in some cases quite lavish. In addition, the big top tent was air conditioned for the comfort of the guests, the hum of the machines low—which suggested expense.
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