Miraculum

by Steph Post

  “I work here and live here, too. Ruby Pontilliar.”

  Ruby sat up straight, as if she’d been stung.

  “Chole. It’s Ruby Chole.”

  Daniel cocked his head.

  “Are you not the carnival master’s daughter? Is Randolph Pontilliar not your father?”

  Ruby flicked the ash off her cigarette and slouched again.

  “How do you know that?”

  “I know lots of things. And people talk. That’s one thing I’ve noticed about this place. Everyone is talking, all of the time. They never stop.”

  Ruby seemed to consider this for a moment.

  “All right, fine. You know things. You live here, too, I suppose. That doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want.”

  Daniel glanced at her cigarette.

  “Maybe.”

  Ruby blew another stream of smoke toward him and then picked up the package of cigarettes next to the candle. She slid it toward him. He pulled one out and fit it between his lips as he glanced around the table. Ruby sighed.

  “That was my last match. Here.”

  She picked up the candle and held it out to him. Daniel leaned forward to light his cigarette, making sure to look her in the eyes. This close, he could see that they were gray. Unusual. She didn’t look away. He leaned back, relaxing into the cigarette.

  “I didn’t answer your question, though, did I? About what I’m doing?”

  “No.”

  “So then, what are you really asking?”

  He watched Ruby collect her thoughts. When she finally spoke, her words came out forceful, but uncertain.

  “January. She’s my friend. She’s everybody’s friend. We all care about her.”

  Daniel nodded slowly.

  “All right.”

  “And for better or worse, she’s Tom’s girl. He makes her happy. Or something. But she’s happy with him, at any rate. So what the hell are you doing?”

  “With January?”

  “With January.”

  Daniel edged back on the bench so he could cross his leg over his knee. He took a long drag on the cigarette, making her wait.

  “Nothing.”

  “Liar.”

  Daniel smiled.

  “No, I mean it.”

  Daniel wiped at the tiny bits of ash collecting on the table.

  “She’s not really, how would you say it? She’s not really my type.”

  “You’re lying again. I saw you two together. I saw the way she looked at you.”

  “Through all those shadows?”

  He puffed on the cigarette, enjoying the shock on Ruby’s face.

  “You must have very good eyes. From where you were standing behind that tent, I’d doubt you could have seen much more than silhouettes. Heard much more than whispers.”

  Ruby ground out her cigarette on the edge of the table and dropped it into the dirt.

  “So you know I was watching.”

  Daniel nodded and grinned at her.

  “I told you. I know lots of things.”

  Ruby stood up and put her fists on the table. She leaned on her knuckles, getting close to him. From this angle, Daniel could see the tattoos running underneath her chin and down her neck. He followed the lines of symbols intersecting in the hollow of her throat and disappearing down the open collar of her shirt. He lazily looked back up toward her face and into her eyes. They were blazing.

  “Stay away from her.”

  Daniel smirked, but said nothing. Ruby smacked her palms on the table and then pointed her finger at Daniel.

  “I don’t know what you’re doing, but just stay away from her. She’s a good kid. She’s got a good thing going. Don’t screw that up for her.”

  Daniel slowly twisted his cigarette on the top of the table, crushing it out. He kept his eyes on Ruby’s.

  “My dear. Who exactly do you think I am?”

  Ruby pushed away from the table and stepped over the bench. Her body was stiff and Daniel noticed that her fists were clenched, nails cutting into her palms, no doubt. She suddenly leaned in close to him and her words came out low. Dangerous, but tinged with a hint of desperation.

  “I don’t know. And I don’t care.”

  Daniel turned to watch her disappear into the night.

  “Oh, but you should. You really should.”

  And then he frowned, as a new thought flitted through his mind, and he murmured into the darkness.

  “I wonder…”

  Ruby took another swig from the bottle and handed it back to January.

  “This tastes like dog piss.”

  January hooked her arm around the horse’s brass carousel pole before reaching across the space between them and grabbing the bottle back. She smirked and then giggled.

  “You would know, I guess.”

  “Shut up.”

  Ruby cracked half a smile as she fumbled in her pocket for a cigarette.

  “Well, you’re the one who got it.”

  January squinted one eye and looked down into the bottle. The sickeningly sweet rum sloshed around as she started to slip off the horse’s back. She pulled herself upright and hiked up her dress so she could hold the bottle between her legs.

  “That fella came up out of Florida got it. I got it off him in Sulphur. Said it came straight from Cuba. He tried to trade for the bottle, but I said nothing doing.”

  “For a bottle? Just one bottle?”

  January laughed.

  “That’s what I said. Even if it was back in the day, I would’ve held out for at least a crate. I mean, look at me.”

  January gestured up and down the length of her body. Ruby nodded, still digging into her pockets.

  “Look at you. At least a crate.”

  “I made like I was all hurt at his suggestion. All pouty. And so he just gave me the bottle for free and took off. I need to start using that trick more often.”

  “Well, at least one of us is good for something. Even if it is just bringing in coffin varnish.”

  Ruby pulled out a package of cigarettes and held it up to her ear. She shook the paper box and frowned. She held it up, peered through the ripped top and then crumpled it in her fist before tossing it over her shoulder to the ground. January watched her and laughed.

  “That preacher man was good for something. What’d you say his name was? Preacher Tin?”

  Ruby gripped the brass pole of her own horse and leaned back, looking up at the gears in the roof of the carousel.

  “The esteemed Reverend George H. Tindall. Samuel said he’s some big cheese around here. Wouldn’t let the mayor give Pontilliar a permit to set up unless we agreed to go dark on Sunday. Some carrying on about corrupting souls. You know he just wants to make sure the good folks put their coin in his basket and not ours.”

  “Well, I, for one, am thankful for the good Reverend. I needed a day off. Christ. Six, eight shows a night. Then you got all the lot lice just being damn lookie-loos. Watching the bally all day, but not forking over a dime. I know we’re all trying to make the nut here, but it’s just too much.”

  Ruby rolled her eyes and shrugged, causing January to laugh at her again. In the mirrored panels, behind January’s head, Ruby could see the reflection of the carnival at dusk. It was quiet, the midway deserted. It was an eerie sight, silent and haunting. Ruby liked the carnival when it was like this. Empty and dead. As if it were her own. Being one of the freaks, she couldn’t just walk the midway when it was full of people like everyone else could. She couldn’t just throw on a robe between shows and walk down to Willie’s grab joint and get a cone of cotton candy or a bag of peanuts. She couldn’t lean across the booths and flirt with the gamesmen. She couldn’t saunter through the crowd, keeping an eye out for rich gentlemen she could slip her arm around and pinch a few coins from. She wasn’t January. She wasn’t one of the other girls. Just showing her face was giving it away for free.

  Ruby watched January swing her bare legs as they dangled over the side of the horse. The white
horse for January, like snow, and the red for Ruby. It was always the same and had been since Ruby had come back to the carnival at nineteen and January had sat next to her on the edge of the carousel, no longer a child dreaming of becoming an acrobat, but a sixteen-year-old dancing the cootch. They had been drinking that night, too. Some awful whiskey Ruby had stolen from one of the talkers. It was January, of course, who had earnestly picked out the horses for them. Like in a fairy tale. That night they had laughed and drank and in the early morning hours, when Ruby held January’s hair back so she could puke off the side of the carousel, their friendship had been cemented. The carnival was a man’s world, and Ruby and January had just then been on the edge of discovering their place in the grand scheme of the show, but at least they had found each other.

  “Hey.”

  January snapped her fingers at Ruby to get her attention. She held the bottle out and Ruby took it.

  “What are you thinking about, all deep in your thoughts there?”

  Ruby raised the bottle to her lips and took a long drink. She handed it back.

  “Nothing.”

  “Come on.”

  Ruby wiped her mouth with the side of her hand.

  “I was just thinking about you and Tom.”

  January frowned.

  “Me and Tom? What the hell for?”

  Ruby slipped her hands into her pockets and shrugged slightly.

  “I don’t know. I just wondered if things were good. If you were happy.”

  January arched an eyebrow.

  “Oh really?”

  “Yeah. You know. What’s wrong with that? Why can’t I ask if you’re happy?”

  January pursed her lips and tilted her head.

  “Because that’s not the kind of thing you ask. Not you. I know you, Ruby Chole. You don’t care about Tom. I’m surprised you even remembered his name.”

  “But I care about you.”

  January shook her head.

  “That’s not the same. What are you driving at?”

  Ruby reached for the bottle again. She wouldn’t look at January.

  “You and the geek. The new one. You two just seem kind of close.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  There was an edge to January’s voice. Ruby took a swig and then looked up, straight into January’s eyes.

  “Just what I said. I’m talking about you and that new geek. Daniel. I’ve seen you together. It’s none of my business what goes on between you and Tom—”

  “You’re damn right it isn’t.”

  “But there’s something not right about Daniel. The way he looks, the way he talks.”

  “You’re judging him on the way he looks? You? Really?”

  Ruby gritted her teeth.

  “I don’t think you can see it. I don’t think you can see what he really is.”

  “And what’s that?”

  Ruby looked down at the scratched wooden baseboards beneath the horses. Her voice was quiet.

  “I don’t know.”

  January narrowed her eyes and her mouth turned ugly. She leaned toward Ruby.

  “Now you listen to me. There is nothing going on between me and Daniel that doesn’t go on with half the men in this place. Sure, I talk to him. I talk to everybody, unlike you. I mean, what do you think I am? You think I’m screwing the geek?”

  “That’s not what I’m saying.”

  “I got a man. I’m with Tom now. Everybody knows that. Everybody respects that. Everybody but you.”

  Ruby shook her head.

  “I’m not saying you’re screwing him.”

  “Then what?”

  Ruby bit her bottom lip, trying to figure out how to say what she needed to say. The alcohol buzz wasn’t helping.

  “I’m just saying that you should stay away from Daniel.”

  January slid off the horse.

  “So now you’re telling me what to do. Perfect.”

  Ruby jumped off her horse and stood eye to eye with January.

  “Okay. Sorry. How about I think, then, if you’ve got any sense in that empty head of yours, you should stay away from Daniel.”

  January put her hands on her hips.

  “And I think that you’re just jealous.”

  “Jealous? Of some creepy guy in a suit trying to get with you?”

  “Of any guy trying to get with me. Because no one is trying to get with you.”

  Ruby stepped back and steadied herself against one of the horses, but January kept going.

  “You ran Hayden off. Probably one of the nicest fellas to ever come around here. Nice and good looking and absolutely crackers for you. Crackers. I had to hear it from him all the time. Never mind that I’m right in front of him, standing right there, but he’s only got eyes for you.”

  Ruby shook her head, confused. Her face was beginning to burn from the rum and she couldn’t understand where the conversation was going.

  “This isn’t about Hayden. This is about Daniel.”

  January swayed and caught herself. She pointed her finger at Ruby.

  “No, this is about Hayden. He was crazy about you and you ran him off. Like you do everyone. Because you’re too proud or too stubborn or I don’t know what. And now he’s back and let me guess, you haven’t even spoken to him. He’s been hanging around like some kind of lost dog and I bet you haven’t even given him the time of day. You don’t deserve him. You really don’t.”

  Ruby closed her eyes and ground her teeth together. Everything was rising up inside her and she held her breath to push it back down. She forced herself to stay calm and remember where the conversation had started.

  “You can say that and think that all you like about me. But stay away from Daniel, okay?”

  Ruby opened her eyes, but January was already stepping down off the carousel, walking away, stumbling every few steps. Ruby yelled at her.

  “Okay?!”

  Ruby watched January’s back as she disappeared around the Ferris Wheel. She gripped one of the carousel poles, trying to clear her head, and then stepped down into the dirt. The sky had bled from a burnt orange into a dark blue and a few stars had already broken through on the horizon. Ruby took another drink from the bottle still in her hand and then hurled it across the midway. She wanted to hear the glass smash, but it only landed and rolled unsatisfyingly. Ruby clenched her fists. She had tried with January. Now it was time for Hayden.

  Ruby pushed aside the tent flap and peered inside. The smell of new sweat, old sweat and the rush of winning and losing hit her immediately. She ducked inside and stood in the fog of layered smoke, the dim light from the two oil lamps hanging from the side poles barely cutting through the murk. Technically, this was a communal tent for the rousties and gamesmen who didn’t own their own private sleeping tents, but everyone knew its real purpose: it was the place where what little money the men had shifted from hand to hand, night to night, in an endless circle of elation and dejection. Ruby squinted her eyes against the smoke and glanced around the tent. Five of the men were sitting around a large overturned wooden spool with greasy, limp cards held close to their chests or flattened against the makeshift table. More men hung back in the shadows, making bets of their own, some whispering, some laughing loudly. Most were drunk already. Ruby watched Tom swigging from a ceramic jug of hooch before passing it over to the roustie next to him. She narrowed her eyes at him, but he only returned the look with a smirk.

  “He ain’t in the G-top.”

  Ruby jumped and turned to the voice at her shoulder. Franklin was at her elbow, holding out a badly rolled cigarette. Ruby shook her head at the offer.

  “Who?”

  Franklin grinned and leered at her slightly, but Ruby didn’t step back. She had known Franklin since she was nineteen years old and she could handle him. She could handle any man in the show and they all knew that. They all knew better than to mess with her, and not just because she was Pontilliar’s daughter. Franklin took a long drag off his cigarette, but ble
w the smoke away from Ruby’s face.

  “You’re looking for Hayden, right?”

  Ruby’s eyes scanned the tent again.

  “Maybe.”

  Franklin laughed and the sound caught like thick phlegm in his throat.

  “Well, he’s out looking for you.”

  Ruby turned back to Franklin.

  “What?”

  Franklin hacked and spit along the side of the tent wall. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then wiped his hand down the front of his shirt.

  “Sure. Tried getting him in a game, but he wasn’t having none. Hasn’t played yet since he’s been back. Used to pull a good hand, too. I don’t know if he’s smart or just turned chicken. Lucky bastard though.”

  Franklin leaned in toward Ruby again, his mouth twisted in a sneer around the limp cigarette. His breath caught Ruby in the face and she grabbed him by the front of his shirt. She jerked him back firmly and the jolt made his eyes widen slightly. Ruby didn’t let go of him.

  “Where did he go?”

  Franklin mumbled something and Ruby grabbed him by the shoulders. Franklin didn’t have a height advantage, but he did have about eighty extra pounds of muscle on her. Still, in the smoky darkness, with her tattoos and that savage look in her wild eyes, Franklin would never have laid a hand back on her. Ruby knew this, knew the uneasiness she could cause in people, and wasn’t afraid to use this to her advantage. She brought her face in close and leveled her eyes with his. Franklin raised his hands in front of him.

  “I told you. He said something about ponying up and going to talk to you. He was half in the bag, just said something about needing to find you right away and he ducked out. Just took off.”

  “When?”

  Franklin shook his head.

  “I don’t know, an hour ago? What, he already find you and piss you off that bad? That what this is about?”

  Ruby let him go. Franklin stepped back and dramatically brushed off the front of his shirt, as if Ruby could have gotten it anymore dirty than it already was.

  “Thank you.”

  Ruby opened the tent flap behind her and was turning to leave when she saw him. As far back in the shadows as a man could get, in the opposite corner of the tent. He was still in his suit, though the air was stifling and most of the men had their collars open and sleeves rolled up or had already stripped down to their undershirts. He stood leaning against one of the tent poles with a cigarette raised to his lips. His black eyes were locked on hers and she couldn’t read his expression at all. No one in the tent seemed to notice him. Or how out of place he appeared in the midst of all the squalor.