A Charmed Life

by Jenny B. Jones

“Luisa asked me not to. But I can’t get that out of my mind. Christina is bad news, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it—the sooner the better.”

  “I had a date last night.”

  All heads swivel to Lindy.

  “What?” My voice scares off a nearby bird. “With who? And why didn’t you call me?”

  She laughs, her skin turning a light shade of pink. “It was very last-minute. After church, Bo Blades called me and took me out for pizza and ice cream.”

  Ruthie sits up. “And you spent the rest of the evening staring into each other’s eyes and were so caught up, you couldn’t so much as text us.” Her voice is a sigh.

  “Um, no.” Lindy’s grin is as big as an Oklahoma cornfield. “But after he drove me back home, I called him. And then we just talked for hours.”

  “About what?” Matt scowls. “What could you possibly have to talk about after hanging out?”

  Fire dances in Lindy’s eyes. “Lots of things. I could talk to Bo for days and never get bored. Some guys know how to have a conversation with a girl.”

  Matt snorts. “Whatever. He probably just wanted your homework answers.”

  “Bo finds me interesting, for your information, Matt Sparks.”

  Lindy gives her best friend her shoulder. “Not that it’s any of your business.” She turns her excited face back to me. “We’re going to run together tonight.”

  “How romantic.” Running. That’s right up there with watching documentaries or double-dating with your parents. All definite dating no’s in my book.

  “I don’t know about him, Lindy,” Matt says. “You should really be on your guard.”

  “Why?” Lindy barks. “He’s on the honor roll. He took us to state in track last year. He plays the guitar in his church. Um, which part of that do you find so shady? Because I must be too caught up in it all to see it.”

  I watch in fascination as Matt sputters for an answer. He is so jealous. I wonder if he even realizes it. This is perfect.

  “Forget it. Have a nice run.” Matt grabs his backpack and storms toward the double doors.

  “Is anyone thinking what I’m thinking?” Ruthie asks, her voice giddy.

  My eyes dart to Lindy. “That Matt Sparks is jealous?”

  Ruthie frowns. “No, dudes. It’s meatloaf day in the caf.”

  Luke completely ignores me in journalism. Which would be just fine except instead of harassing me, he’s giving all his attention to Ashley Timmons.

  The man stealer leans over his computer and laughs. “Oh, Luke. You’re so funny!”

  Behind my monitor, I mimic her girly giggles.

  The girl tosses her angelic blonde hair and moves in closer. “You’re so smart. That’s exactly what my article needed. Thank you!”

  Thank you! You’re so smart! Ughhh. It’s like I need to start taking antinausea medicine before I come to class now.

  “Ashley, you’re a great writer,” Luke says. “You just have a few skills that need some polishing.”

  “Ohhh.” I swear I see her bat her lashes. “Would you work with me? I’d love to get some tips for improving. Your articles are always so perfect.”

  Luke laughs. “Well, not perfect.”

  “No.” Her hand lands on his bicep. “They totally are.”

  I’m out of my seat before my brain has time to register that my legs have moved. “For the good of the rest of the staff, could you guys please keep it down?”

  Ashley sits up straighter. “We’re just working here.”

  “Really?” I throw her a pert smile. “Is that what you call it?”

  “Luke and I were simply talking. He was about to help me with some weak areas.”

  It’s everything I can do not to blast her with a retort on her weak areas. “I need Luke to look over my article, so maybe this one-on-one tutoring could happen later?”

  Ashley opens her glossy mouth, but Luke stops her. “It’s okay, Ashley. I’ll check your copy and prioritize the areas you need to focus on.”

  I don’t miss her look of venom as she saunters back to her work station.

  Luke turns the full force of his stormy gaze on me. “Don’t you ever do that again.”

  “What? Stop you before you drooled in front of your entire staff?”

  He takes a step closer. “Don’t ever disrespect me when I’m working with a staff member.”

  “Since when does flirting fall under the category of work?”

  Luke breathes out his nose. “I’m the editor, Bella. And helping my staff improve their writing is what I do. I was not flirting.”

  I can’t stop my laugh. “Whatever.”

  “Why don’t we take this outside?”

  “Let’s.”

  I follow him out into the hall where he takes off his glasses and looks down his nose. “I don’t bring our personal life into the paper, so I expect you to be professional enough to do the same.”

  I point between us. “We have no personal life, if you remember.”

  “How could I forget?”

  “You’re hanging out with her.” The words sound pitiful to my ears. Too late to take them back.

  “I’m hanging out with her and her brother.” Hard eyes stare back at me. “Ashley hasn’t had time to get reacquainted with anyone yet. I’m strictly being a friend.”

  “Her methods of getting reacquainted are quite original.

  Aggressive even.” I have got to let this go. I’m annoying myself.

  “Obviously you don’t have enough to do on the paper, so why don’t you copyedit everyone’s work for the next week?”

  “So I hit a nerve, and to punish me, you’re going to put me on grammar duty?”

  He shrugs. “One of the joys of being in charge.”

  “That and flirting with your reporters?”

  His head dips low as he plants one hand on the wall over my head. “You are so jealous.”

  “Nuh-uh.” That sounded more mature in my head.

  “You know what I think this is all about?”

  “That Barbie doll three computers away from me?”

  He slowly shakes his head. “It’s about the fact that you miss me.”

  I gaze into his clear blue eyes. “You’re right. I do miss you, Luke.” I watch his arrogant mouth curve. “Like cramps.”

  “Still running scared.” He pushes off the wall. “That’s too bad.”

  “Or maybe I’m just completely over you.” I pat his chest. “It’s a bitter pill to swallow. I understand.”

  Luke’s eyes drop to my mouth, then slowly trail back up. “Whatever you need to tell yourself to keep it safe, Bella. You do that.” He reaches for the doorknob and glances over his shoulder. “But keep your insecurities out of my paper and don’t ever attack one of my staff members again.” He winks. “Oh, and better brush up on your commas.”

  “I don’t know if I can do this.” I stare into a mirror at my clown garb. I can hear cars pulling up outside the big top.

  “It’s too late now.” Ruthie straightens my big red nose. “The circus is going to start in twenty minutes.”

  “This might’ve been my dumbest idea ever.”

  She fluffs her rainbow wig. “My dumbest idea was when I tried to ride my bicycle down the slide in my backyard.”

  I laugh. “How long ago was that?”

  Ruthie rubs her rear. “Yesterday.”

  Cherry Fritz pops her head in the door. “You guys ready?”

  She looks so beautiful in her makeup and glitzy leotard. And here I am in clown paint, shoes made for a giant, and a wig that looks like it suffered a bad encounter with a lightning bolt.

  “All you have to do is go into the crowd and meet and greet the little kids.” She hands each one of us a bucket of suckers. “And Ruthie, don’t throw them like you did when we practiced earlier. We don’t want anyone losing an eye.”

  “Personally I think that would be kinda cool.”

  At Cherry’s worried look, I try to reassure her. “She’ll be ca
reful. I’ll watch her.”

  “Your cue to come out of the crowd is when the clown car starts honking. Remember, all you have to do is run down to the center and open the door.”

  “And we act like we’re gonna shut it, but more of those clowns keep coming out.” Ruthie acts like it’s painful to recall her few instructions.

  “Right. And that’s it. You’ll be great.” Cherry gives each of us a brief hug. “Dolly’s coming tonight and taking me for a burger afterward. Maybe you guys could come with us.”

  Raw hope brims in her eyes. How could I possibly say no?

  “Sounds fun.” If I live through tonight and don’t kill myself in these shoes. Or die of mortification.

  Ten minutes later I’m on the top bleacher talking to a little boy who doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry at my hair. “Here you go. Have fun!” I hand him a sucker and make my way down to the bottom row.

  My eyes scan the arena, looking for anything unusual or suspicious. Two midgets and a pig in a tutu walk by. I probably need to narrow my definition of suspicious.

  “Nice outfit.”

  I follow the voice to the ground. Luke.

  “Though the makeup’s a little heavy.”

  “What do you want, Luke? Or let me guess—you’re here to work on my story and just stopped by to gloat.” I stomp my giant foot. It tangles with the other shoe, and suddenly I’m airborne, headed for the ground. “Whoa!”

  Luke steps up, and I land with an oomph in his arms.

  Face redder than my bulbous nose, I pull my eyes up to his. “Um . . . thanks.”

  His arms stay locked around me as he lifts me off the bleacher and sets me on the ground.

  “Glad to help.”

  “Hey, hands off the clown.” Stewart Fritz stops, just as his dad takes the center of the ring. “You’re needed in the sound booth.” His eyes leer.

  “Me?” I ask.

  “No.” He jerks his head toward Luke. “This guy.” His eyes linger over my form for a moment too long before he walks away, snapping out commands into his headset.

  “So I guess he’s kind of like the producer?” Luke asks.

  “Um . . . you’re working here? Since when?”

  “Same day you got hired.” He shrugs. “I needed something else to fill my time.”

  “You work for the local paper.”

  “And now I work here.”

  I smell a rat. “Yeah, well, just stay out of my way.”

  He laughs. “Isn’t that what the police are always saying to you?”

  chapter nine

  The work of a circus clown is never done.

  During intermission, I rush backstage, careful not to trip over my giant shoes. Ruthie and I grab water bottles for those just finishing and pass out props for the next round of performers.

  “Serena, I think your hair would look really good with a few strips of magenta,” Ruthie tells the lady who does horse tricks.

  “Maybe tease it up another six inches or so. I have some hairspray that will shellac that stuff right in place. It’s like cement.”

  I brush off her partner’s jacket with a lint roller. “So, um . . . anyone heard from Alfredo?”

  The man’s laugh is a mean staccato. “Yeah, right. Like we’d want to talk to the guy who killed Betty.”

  “But what if he didn’t do it?”

  He waves my idea away. “Look, kid, his prints are on the sword.”

  “The forensic results came back?”

  “Yeah.” He smirks. “Alfredo may be the master of magic, but even he can’t make scientific evidence disappear.”

  “Besides,” Serena says with a southern twang. “Alfredo was a dirty crook. He didn’t really love Betty. Everyone saw right through him.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  Serena runs her hand over her tight updo. “Betty and Alfredo were the weirdest couple ever. And I’m telling you . . . something wasn’t right from the beginning. At first he didn’t even act like he liked her. It was like he was forcing himself to date her.”

  “Life does get lonely out here on the road. And it’s not as if there’re lots of options for chicks.”

  Serena smacks her partner. “You got something to say to me?”

  He shakes his head. “Nah.”

  “Maybe you wouldn’t get lonely if you’d clean up your messes in the trailer. If I didn’t have to follow you around like I was your mother instead of your wife, then I’d have more time to spend with you. Eh?”

  “But back to Alfredo and Betty—”

  “Ladies and gentlemen!” Red Fritz announces the second half, and Serena and her husband run toward the center of the ring, still arguing over housekeeping.

  I glance at Ruthie. “That was strange.”

  “Nah. Men are slobs. Nothing weird about that. She shouldn’t have to put up with socks and tightie-whities on the floor.”

  “I meant what Serena said about Alfredo not acting as if he liked Betty.”

  “Not everyone is as kind and sensitive as my Budge.”

  I think of my stepbrother, who just this morning burped the entire Star Wars theme song at the breakfast table. “Yeah, he’s just a dream of perfection.”

  “Did you ever get the flashlight you lost in Alfredo’s trailer?”

  I inwardly cringe. “No. Someone’s always in there.” But I’ve got to get it. Soon.

  “Yeah, well, don’t cut me out of that. I have a few ideas on how to get inside.” Ruthie’s eyes glisten. “It involves rope, WD-40, and some mace.”

  “You forgot one thing in that list.”

  “What?”

  “A warrant for our arrest.”

  Fifteen minutes later I’m working the crowd and passing out a few balloons as Cherry and two others take to the trapeze. Just looking up there makes my stomach flop.

  Feeling prickles of awareness, I look across the arena and find Luke watching me from the control booth. And Stewart Fritz. The two are talking, but both have their eyes trained in my direction. It’s not every day a girl gets the attention of two boys. But in this case, one makes me so mad I want to throw him in the middle of one of Jake’s wrestling matches. And the other . . . makes me want to douse myself in hand sanitizer.

  Red Fritz announces his niece and the trapeze act, and a hush falls over the crowd as they watch them fly through the air.

  In his usual garb of top hat and tuxedo jacket, Red walks off the floor and over to the control booth, his large stomach leading the way. He pulls his son aside and whispers near his ear. Luke keeps his eyes on the trapeze, adjusting the lighting and sound controls, but I know that boy. And I know he’s doing everything he can to listen in to the father and son’s conversation.

  Red walks away, exiting out the main entrance. I’m passing out my last balloon when I see Stewart leave the same way.

  “Hey, I want my balloon in the shape of a dog.”

  I pull my eyes from the door and down to the kid below me.

  “Sorry. That’s all I have.”

  “I want a dog!” he yells.

  I yank his balloon back, give it a few twists, and hand it to him again. “There you go.” I have to follow Stewart and his dad.

  Something could be up.

  “No!” the kid shrieks. “That looks like a four-leaf clover!”

  “Well, then give it to your mom.” I pat the little brat on the head.

  “She obviously needs the luck.”

  I maneuver my way back down the bleachers. Easier said than done in a wig that keeps drooping in my eyes and shoes that could knock out an entire row.

  The carnival rides flash their rainbow of lights as I step outside. Screams pierce the night as one of the roller coasters swings everyone upside down.

  “Two tries for a dollar!” a guy calls out from the basketball toss.

  Following a distance behind Stewart, I pass a row of food trailers and inhale the smell of hamburgers.

  He hangs a left, disappearing for a moment from view. I
keep a nonchalant look about me, as if I’m just taking in the sights and sounds of the carnival. Like it’s every day I walk about the carnival grounds in full clown makeup.

  When I hear Red Fritz’s voice, I stop. The two guys stand talking by the Ferris wheel.

  “What do you want?” Red asks. “I gotta close out the show.”

  I take a step back and hide behind the edge of another game trailer.

  “Did you talk to Alfredo?”

  “Yeah, I talked to him. Do you think I can’t handle him, Stewart? I’ve got his situation under control. Has anyone seen Betty’s stupid dog?”

  “She’s long gone.”

  “Well, if you find her, put her to work, then take care of her— permanently. Son, you do your job right, and this could all be yours.” Red’s voice is barely audible over the rising carnival noise.

  I lean out a bit to get a better view.

  Stewart laughs, a menacing sound that lifts the hair on the back of my neck. “Whatever it takes. This is a family business, after all. Our business.”

  Red spits on the ground and nods. “Gotta get back. I need to keep my eye on Cherry. She’s been acting weird, and I don’t trust her.”

  I gotta go! Move, clown feet. I lift the left, only to be jerked back by the right. I’m stuck! Omigosh. God, help me!

  Their voices get nearer as I bend over, jerking on my shoe. It’s snagged on some sort of canopy pin.

  “Maybe I should have a talk with little cousin Cherry.”

  Oh no, I cannot explain my way out of this one, Jesus. How about a Harry Potter cloak of invisibility right now? Please help me.

  I take a giant breath and pull with all my might. Aughhh!

  Too late. Two sets of feet appear.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Red Fritz demands.

  From my stooped position, I lift my eyes. “Um . . . I was just—”

  “Waiting for me.”

  I jerk upright as Luke appears at my back. He sends me a warm smile and curls an arm around my shoulder. “Our first date was at the county fair. And it was on a Ferris wheel just like this that I knew I had found someone special. I thought we’d take a ride tonight and celebrate old times.” Luke rushes on before Red can interrupt. “It’s my break time.”

  Oh, he is so full of bull.

  And I couldn’t be more grateful.