Perfectly Timed

by Jamie Campbell

  Someone grabs me on the shoulder and my head shoots up. I wrap my arms around Noah as I realize it’s him that has a grip on me. He pulls me close, holding me so tightly I don’t know if he’ll ever let me go. I hope not, it feels wonderful in his arms.

  Finally, we let go of each other and he takes my hand. I grip him tightly and follow, there is no way I’m letting him out of my sight again.

  We slowly make our way out of the circus and outside. Noah doesn’t stop until we have left the park all together and are standing by ourselves between two buildings. There is nobody around to see us dressed strangely. Judging by Noah’s clothes, I would guess he came from the past. His loose pants and brown shirt remind me of a bad western movie set in the desert.

  There are a million questions I want to ask him but he gets in first. “I can be seen now, can you? I’m not invisible anymore.”

  “Neither am I. What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know but something is changing,” Noah says, his face full of concern. “It’s never been like this before, I’m being pulled everywhere. I never stay anywhere very long.”

  “Me either.” There is so much I want to say to him but one look into his blue eyes and all the words are completely lost. All I can think of is that he’s still holding my hand even though it’s not necessary anymore. I don’t know if he realizes or whether he’s doing it on purpose.

  I try really hard to focus on what he’s saying. “Ella, something is going on. I doubt we have much time together. Have you noticed? Does it feel different to you?”

  I concentrate on his question, does it feel different? I know being consumed by thoughts of him are new but I guess other things are too. But it’s only been ever since he told me about his theory. “Your theory about where we go, it’s right. I never noticed it before but when I go somewhere, I help someone and then I’m pulled away. I didn’t get that before.”

  “It’s the connection, not the helping. We need to connect with people before we can move on. What I don’t understand is why now? Why’s this all happening now?”

  I don’t have any answers. “Noah, I don’t—”

  “I’m going, Ella. I’m leaving.”

  “You can’t.” I grip his hand like that will keep him here. I’m kidding myself.

  “Ella, be careful—”

  I start crying, wishing I could stop. I want him to stay here with me, I want answers, and I want to stay in one place more than a few days. I just want to rest and have it all done with. But even as I’m wishing, Noah disappears before my eyes and I’m left empty-handed.

  I’m so frustrated I want to hit something. I settle for stomping my feet on the ground instead. If I was a two year old I would thrust myself on the floor and throw the biggest tantrum anyone has ever seen. I’m sure only that would make me feel better—even if only temporarily.

  Instead, I settle for sitting on the ground and letting my tears flow freely. I haven’t had a good cry for a few days, it’s overdue.

  I feel so empty when Noah is not here. I don’t know how to explain it, but he feels like a part of me now. It’s like I’ve lived my entire life without an arm and he’s my missing limb. As cheesy as it sounds, he completes me. He, and only he, can make me whole again.

  And no matter what we do, we can’t stay together. I don’t even question how he feels because every fiber of my being tells me he feels exactly the same as me. We have something special, even if we can’t be together. At least we’re always together in my dreams.

  Chapter 12

  “Miss, are you okay?” The voice makes me jump. My head snaps up to see a man peeking his head around the wall. I’m still slumped in my position in the alley, refusing to make myself move. He’s dressed in the outrageous costume of the circus performers. He doesn’t move from his position, probably for fear of startling me.

  “I’m fine,” I moan, not even convincing myself. He takes a step closer.

  “Oh, good then. But if you don’t mind me saying, a pretty girl like you doesn’t cry like that because you’re fine.” He makes me smile, I can’t help it. His words are so kind, he didn’t have to say that.

  He comes closer and sits on the ground beside me. Up close, I can see why he’s in the circus. He’s not in the big top but in the side alley, he’s part of the freak show. His skin is covered in what I can only call scales. His flaky skin covers his face, his arms, and probably everywhere I can’t see as well. It looks sore, and itchy. The poor guy, my heart goes out for him.

  “Mind if I hang out here?” he asks.

  “You sure you want to be seen with a blubbering weirdo like me?” I shoot back at him, letting my head rest on the brick wall.

  “Have you seen some of the weirdos I hang out with? Trust me, you’re like a pretty little flower in comparison,” he jokes. “My name’s William but my friends call me Bill, in case you were wondering.”

  “Ella. It’s nice to meet you. So do you go around finding crying girls often?” I tease back. I kind of want to stay angry and frustrated, hoping it will achieve something. But I know it won’t. The only way I’m going to find my way back to Noah is to keep going. To do that, I need to cheer up.

  “Only the pretty ones. Have you been to the circus? I’m kind of a big deal there, you know.”

  “I snuck a peek inside the big top. I don’t like clowns very much.”

  “I hear you, they’re creepy.”

  “I know, right?” I lean forward to look at him, he’s returning my grin. The skin on his lips is dry and cracked, probably painful too. There’s probably something a doctor could use on him, like a cream or something. It would make him far more comfortable. I wonder if that kind of medicine exists in this time. Surely they had skin cream in the twenties?

  “I know what you’re thinking.” Bill rolls his eyes. “How did I get so handsome?”

  “Actually, I was thinking that your skin must be painful. But now you mention it…”

  His face lights up and I realize he actually is quite handsome. Even with the skin condition, his brown eyes are piercing and dance with amusement. He shifts on the ground, for the first time being serious. “It’s painful some of the time, but I can handle it. I’ve been doing it my entire life.”

  “Have you seen a doctor about it? There’s probably a cream to fix it.”

  “I know. There are a number of lotions and potions they can try. But if I did that, how would I earn a living?”

  “You put up with it just to make money?” I ask, unable to comprehend why. Who would choose to have a medical condition when you didn’t have to? It makes no sense to me.

  “It’s difficult to find a job,” Bill continues, shrugging like it’s not a big deal. “If I didn’t do this then I wouldn’t be able to eat. And I like to eat.” He rubs his belly to make his point.

  “Do you like everyone looking at you?”

  “Like I said, it’s a living. If they want to pay, then I’ll stand there and look grumpy to give them a thrill.”

  I still don’t understand but I don’t want to insult him by calling him crazy. I hold my tongue so I don’t say something wrong. I suddenly have a new appreciation for my own time—at least differences are accepted instead of being gawked at. Well, mostly at least.

  Bill stands, holding out his hand for me. “You want to come meet some more freaks? The show should be over by now.”

  How could I refuse? I grip his hand as he helps me to stand. We return to the big top and skirt around it, heading for the back area where their mobile homes are circled.

  Lanterns are strung between the trailers, chairs are dotted around the place. Someone has started cooking somewhere, the aroma of food floats in the air mixed with the sweet scent of orange blossoms. The trees are in the nearby park, proudly displaying their blooms.

  “Hey, this is Ella, everyone,” Bill shouts over the music. Those immediately around us return a warm welcome. Those too far away just nod their heads in acknowledgement. I do the same back, trying not t
o stare.

  The people mingling around aren’t as scary as they were when I first bounced here, but they are still confronting. One woman to my left has a thick beard, it’s hard to reconcile the facial hair with her womanly curves. Beside her is a man with no arms, his shirt is pinned to his sides. On my left beside Bill is a man with more tattoos than I have ever seen in my life. They cover his entire body, shown off by the fact he’s only wearing barely more than a loincloth.

  The unique qualities are all around me. Everyone here is different in their own way. If many of them lived in my own time, they wouldn’t even have their conditions. Some aren’t medical related but most are. Some are just real freaks like the man who is a human pin cushion, silver rings lined up across his skin. I think he freaks me out the most, he’s difficult to look at.

  Food is soon passed around as the music becomes more lively. Bill makes sure I’m fed and not left alone. He’s sweet, one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.

  “Care to dance?” The voice comes from beside me, completely taking me by surprise. I look up to see a tall man, one far taller than what is normal. It almost makes my neck hurt just looking up at him.

  “Sure,” I reply. He leads me into the center of the circle, right where all the lantern strings overlap. He only just clears underneath them. If he jumped he would be tangled in an instant.

  I only reach halfway up his chest, it makes dancing difficult but he doesn’t seem to care. He twirls me around, keeping me at a safe and appropriate distance. We both laugh when my feet get tangled up and he has to grab my arm to stabilize me.

  I find myself relaxing in the company of these people. None of them care that I’m dressed oddly or where I have come from. They just accept me for who I am, regardless of anything else. It’s extremely nice for a change. I had initially thought they were the odd ones for exploiting their conditions, but perhaps I am the odd one for thinking they should fit in.

  The song ends and I thank the tall man for his dance. I leave him as he finds another willing partner. I seek out Bill, needing to thank him for rescuing me from the alleyway. He sits on the stairs of his trailer, smoking a small cigar.

  “Having fun out there?” he asks, exhaling tendrils of smoke. I try not to cough.

  I nod. “Everyone is really nice. I wanted to thank you for bringing me here, it’s been a pleasure meeting you and your friends.”

  “The pleasure was all ours, I’m sure. Are you feeling better?”

  “For now.” I smile, unwilling to lie. I know when I’m alone again I’ll only be thinking about Noah. For now though, I am okay and that’s all that matters.

  “You are welcome to stick around. We’re leaving tomorrow but there is always tonight.”

  “Thanks, but I think I’ll find a hotel or something.”

  “The offer stays open.” Bill tips his hat at me, his skin straining with the effort. It just looks so painful, I want to smother him in cream.

  We say our goodbyes and I leave the lights and sounds of the party. I’m so tired I can barely put one foot in front of the other. I’m going to have to find somewhere to stay for the night. Considering I haven’t helped anyone, I’d say I’m going to be here until morning. The thought is daunting, it’s not like I have any money or anything. It looks like sneaking in to a vacant hotel room might be my best option.

  I wonder if hotels look the same in this time as in the future? I doubt there would be any Holiday Inns or other chains, but hopefully they’ll still be heavily signposted. I don’t want to accidently wander into a home, I would probably be arrested for trespassing.

  I walk around for close to an hour before I see a sign for a hotel. The buildings are mostly joined together in terrace style. The hotel is no exception. I’m not going to be able to sneak around and enter through a back way. My only option is to walk right through the front door and hopefully make it to the hotel area where I can knock on random doors. But then how am I going to pick the lock? I didn’t even think about that. If I’m going to get in anywhere, I’ll have to steal a key first. All while being completely visible in my weird clothes.

  Simple, right?

  I summon my courage, telling myself to just fake it until I make it. You can get away with nearly anything if you look like you’re supposed to be doing something. I take a deep breath, hold my head up high, and then stop.

  I don’t need to go into the hotel after all, I’m being pulled away. I close my eyes and give into the tugging, knowing I can’t fight it. I wish I could have slept before going somewhere else but I’m also kind of relieved not to have to break into the hotel.

  I wait for the light to subside and open my eyes, taking stock of my new surroundings. I guess it was too much to hope I would be bounced to a hotel room somewhere. Instead, I’m facing at least a dozen people. They stop to stare at me, their mouths agape.

  “What on earth?” the man closest to me declares in a thick British accent. At least I know where I am.

  I don’t stick around to explain my presence, I wouldn’t be able to with my brain so foggy from fatigue. I gather all my remaining strength and hightail it out of there. I run through the field as fast as I can, fearing their pursuit. But they don’t try to chase me. Sneaking a glance over my shoulder, where they still stand watching. Either they’re lazy or they don’t feel threatened by me. Perhaps they’re still too stunned by my sudden appearance.

  I continue running anyway, just slowing my pace. Just because they’re not bothered by me now doesn’t mean they won’t be soon. I only slow down to a walk when I reach the edge of a row of trees. They lead into a forest, for once not freezing cold. The air is quite warm actually, it’s nice for a change.

  My feet scream they can’t go on for much longer. I doubt I’m going to find a comfortable place to sleep now. Instead, I settle on a bare patch of grass amongst the trees. There are probably all kinds of wild animals all around me, bugs too, but I can’t see any of them right now so it will do. I curl up, using my backpack as a pillow and close my eyes.

  I try and switch my mind off, but it’s still thinking back to my last place. I was pulled away from there without helping anyone. I never expected to leave without doing anything. Perhaps Noah’s theory isn’t as sound as I first thought? Maybe everything is just random now, with no rhyme or reason. I wish I could make sense of it all. It’s my last thought before I drift off, giving in to my exhaustion.

  I either sleep for only a few hours, or for over ten hours because when I awaken, it’s daylight. Judging by the crick in my neck, I would guess it’s the latter.

  Stretching my limbs, they’re all stiff from sleeping on the hard ground all night. I tell myself I have to stand and my stomach says I need to eat. I rifle through my backpack but there is nothing left. I didn’t think to refill it yesterday when there was actually food around at the circus. My past self has stuffed my present self.

  The realization that I’m going to have to find food is daunting. But there is no getting around it. If I want to survive, I have to eat, my stomach keeps reminding me of that fact.

  I continue walking through the forest, trying to walk in a straight line so I’m not going around in circles. A compass would be nice right about now, so would a keen sense of direction. Noah would know which way to go, I’m sure of it. I wonder where he is right now? Hopefully somewhere safe.

  I have to walk seemingly forever before I find the edge of the trees. I carefully look out, making sure there is nobody around to see me. I never thought I would wish to be invisible again but it would come in handy at times.

  There is a small house made out of large stones across the field. Further down are more just like it. It’s a village or small town of sorts. I approach the house, thinking invisible thoughts. Perhaps if I just believe I am, it will happen?

  At the back of the house is a row of washing lines. Unfortunately, they are empty. If I want to take some clothes, then I’m going to have to go inside. My ears strain to hear any noise, anything that mi
ght tell me people are around. It’s all quiet but that doesn’t mean the house is empty.

  Looking through the window, everything appears still and quiet. I try the door, it’s open. I don’t know if that means the owners are home or whether they are trusting here. When did people start locking their doors? I remember my mother telling me once that when she was young, they never locked anything. Could that be the case here? I hope so.

  Creeping inside, the small home appears empty. I hurry through, tiptoeing as I go. The bedroom is tiny with just a bed and a closet. I cross my fingers hoping a woman lives here. The bed is a double so perhaps they are a married couple?

  Rifling through their clothes, I find a dress. It’s plain and simple, a dull gray color. It will definitely do. I take it quickly and leave the house, looking around once more to make sure I can’t be seen. I cross the field and stand behind the first tree I come upon.

  The dress is too long but it will have to do, I’m going to have to just hold it up when I walk. It’s tight around my waist too, but not because of my size but the boned corset built into the dress. It pushes up my chest and cinches in my waist. It probably makes my curves look fabulous but it’s as uncomfortable as sitting on an anthill.

  I’ve seen these kinds of dresses before, I’ve even admired them in the past. But never have I had to wear one. They are like the ones in every Jane Austen movie, long and conservative, very feminine. I try to think of how nice those women always looked and hope I can pull it off too.

  I start walking, skirting the field just inside the forest. There is a dirt road in front of the houses, I head for it. I didn’t think to change my shoes so I’m still wearing my sneakers. At least the dress hides them.

  The road leads into a village, hopefully I won’t run into the owner of the dress. It’s probably not like at home where Target sells fifty of the same dresses so you don’t automatically assume someone stole your clothes when you see them on someone else. It would be awkward to say the least.