Gifted, A Donovan Circus Novel

by Liz Long

  “Why?”

  “It’s going to sound stupid to someone who won’t understand.”

  “Try me, Gabriel.”

  “I’m an addict—an emotional addict. I allow myself to connect with other people’s emotions and I abuse that power. I’ve done some bad things in the past, to weak people who had no idea of what I could do.”

  “Like what?”

  “I’ve preyed on others’ weaknesses or fears to get a lot of things. You know, the usual: money, sex, power. Because I can sense emotion, I can play on those vulnerabilities.”

  “I don’t understand. I mean, sure, it doesn’t exactly make you a nice guy, but in what circus are there not people who do all those things, without your gift I might add?”

  “It’s a personal choice. I don’t like the person I was in the past, so I refuse to let that happen again.”

  “Just because you say that doesn’t mean it’ll happen. It takes work, more than flat out avoiding all emotion whatsoever. You can still use your gift as long as you understand control and willpower.”

  “I know it sounds like nothing, but it’s like being on drugs. You thrive on the high, the power that it gives you. For years, the only way I could get through the day was to feed on other people’s emotions. I got turned so around I had no idea what I was feeling on my own. And when I sat still long enough to find out how guilty I felt, I’d hate myself, so I’d go back to others’ happiness, fear, excitement.”

  “I still don’t think I understand why that makes you such a bad person. Sometimes I wish I didn’t feel any emotion. That might be easier, ya know?”

  “It’s not like that, though. You never get it back. You won’t know anger or sadness but you’ll never feel happiness again, either. If I do it too often or too much on one person, it’s like sucking their energy away. Eventually they don’t feel anything at all. They’re dull, immune to know how to feel, how to be…human. And once the damage is done, I can’t reverse it.”

  “Like you rob them of a human trait,” I said slowly.

  “When I knew I had gone too far, I could see it. It was like…like I had rendered them soulless. It’s worse than death—to be alive with no happiness, no anger…no passion.” He looked at me on the last word and I hesitated.

  “So you’ve done that on people? Hurt them, tricked them?”

  “That’s why we left the circus. I kept doing that to the public when I got bored or wanted money. I’d trick them into it after confusing their emotions. My mother was humiliated I wouldn’t control it. I got too good at it while I was a teenager. I got better at it once I left home at eighteen.”

  “But the other night, you fought and still managed to stay calm with me…” I trailed off.

  “You have no idea how difficult that situation was for me. I had to resist all that rage, both my own and everyone else’s, very hard. And it took every ounce of willpower I had not to absolutely kill that man who hurt you. I could’ve changed him, made him want to kill himself even, but I focused on getting you away from there. I wanted him to suffer. I can’t even begin to explain to you…”

  Gabriel went silent. He looked very uncomfortable. My brain, whirring from all the information, finally begged a question.

  “And after all our talk about honesty and now this, why should I believe you aren’t trying to fool me the same way?”

  “You shouldn’t. I’m being honest with you, but I understand why you wouldn’t believe me. I’m glad you don’t. I don’t want anyone to trust me, to give me an opportunity to fall off the wagon, so to speak. I don’t trust myself,” he said.

  “So why me? Why tell me all of this when you clearly didn’t want to, or have to?”

  “I dunno. You’re pushy. I guess I caved.”

  “I’m pushy? That’s why you told me your deep, dark secret? Surely you’re joking.” I began to stomp off. We were only another minute from the campers and I was ready to go into hiding for a while. Delia could find me face first in her bag of cookies.

  As expected, Gabriel followed me. “Lucy, I really don’t know. I guess I feel I can trust you with it. You’re strong, not as emotional as everyone else. You seem to keep everything locked up pretty well, so I don’t have to try as hard to avoid emotion around you. You make a decent brick wall.” He gave me a small smile.

  I said nothing, but felt slightly better. Until:

  “Part of it is still because you’re annoyingly relentless. Plus you’re easy to read with your facial expressions and high pitched insistencies,” he added.

  “Gabriel, hate to break it to you, but I’m officially done with this conversation.”

  “Oh, come on, I was only kidding…sort of. You know you’re bossy. You’re a Firestarter, for god’s sake! You were born aggressive.”

  We stopped in front of camper 238 and I turned to face him.

  “My gift does not define me. I’m not annoyed with you because I’m a Firestarter; I’m annoyed with you because you are plain aggravating,” I replied.

  “You know I’m right. I can feel it,” he said. When I gave him a withering glare, he backpedaled, his hands palm up in peace. “Not because I’m trying, I swear. Your attitude clearly gives you away. But despite what I said, it’s hard to ignore the emotion radiating off your body right now.”

  “I do not want you referencing my body in any way,” I snapped.

  A grin flashed on his face as I turned to open the door. Delia bolted out from the tents and skidded to a halt in front of us.

  “Bianca told me you were a suspect. Ridiculous! Oh, hi Gabriel. Um, what are you doing here? I thought you were on schedule with the animals,” Delia said to us with wide, dark eyes. She quirked her head at me and I could practically see the wheels turn in her head.

  “Leaving,” I answered for him. “Delia, did you need me or did you want to talk about how we’re going to save my reputation?”

  “Ooh, the last one!” She bounced past Gabriel and into our camper.

  “Goodbye, Gabriel. Talk to you later,” I said.

  “But I was—” he started, but I cut him off by going inside the camper and closing the door. I turned and walked straight to the bag of Oreos and grabbed four from the sleeve. I plopped on my bed while Delia looked at me with wide eyes.

  “That bad, huh?” she asked me.

  I nodded grimly and stuffed a whole cookie in my mouth.

  “What did he want?”

  I rolled my eyes as nonchalantly as I could. He trusted me not to tell his secret and I planned to keep it to myself. Rather than using my words, I finished off the first Oreo and stuffed another cookie my mouth.

  Delia sighed and did the work for me. “What do you plan to do about protecting yourself from accusations about Marty’s murder? The rumors are spreading fast.”

  “I don’t have a plan,” I said as I brushed cookie crumbs off my face. “I didn’t do it, obviously, but I know how impossible it is to fight circus talk. The best I can do is let it roll off my back and hope that Sheffield finds the real bad guy.”

  She shook her head. “It is not going to be that easy, Lucy. You think everyday gossip is bad? Just wait until this goes around. This is bad news for you. You will not be able to let it roll off your back because they are not going to let you stand a chance. They will refuse your help, turn their own backs, and wait ‘til you quit.”

  “I don’t have any other choice, Delia! I have no other defense against it. I won’t quit; I can’t. I have nowhere else to go.”

  “You cannot tell people you did not do it and let that be your explanation.”

  “I mean, what else can I say? It’s all I got. I really don’t see why anyone thinks it could possibly be me in the first place.”

  “You already have strikes against you, being new and all. Outsiders cannot be trusted until they have earned it. Marty was charbroiled and you are a Firestarter, a new person to our group. They have no reason to believe you did not kill Marty.”

  I said nothing and instead st
uffed the last cookie in my mouth. Delia was quiet for a long moment before saying: “I think you should go talk to Sheffield.”

  I almost choked. After a moment:

  “Are you crazy? What would I say? “Um, Sheffield, I really think you need to handle those mean circus people that won’t stop talking about me behind my back?” He’ll laugh in my face. I need to be an adult about this and ignore it, or if confronted, stand up for myself.”

  “He needs to know what is going on and I know he would understand. I am worried for you. They will tear you apart.” She looked so distraught I wanted to reassure her, even if I didn’t feel too confident.

  “Hey,” I said, “it’s not going to be that bad. I mean, it’s going to be super uncomfortable and yeah, everyone will give me a hard time, but it will eventually pass. And I’m hoping with all the fire in my body that Sheffield finds the murderer before we move to the next city.”

  “What if he does not?”

  “Then I guess I take it one day at a time. I can’t answer that for sure.”

  “So what are you going to say if someone tries to talk to you about it or accuse you?”

  “I’ll ignore it. Or tell them flat out it wasn’t me. I’ll tell them at least some parts about the fight with the townies the other night. Leaving out the more gruesome bits, of course.”

  “That might work with some people. Half of them already know that something happened the other night.”

  I wanted to ask a question that had bothered me. “Delia, Sheffield is gifted, right?”

  “I believe so.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “You have known him longer than I have, with your dad being friends with him. You do not know, either?” Her pretty face registered surprise.

  “Nope. My dad never volunteered anything and Sheffield’s never mentioned it, either.”

  “We’ve never really discussed it before; I just assumed,” she admitted. “If I were you, I would not go around asking everyone their opinions. For one, it is rude. Secondly, if no one here knows it after all these years, you are not going to find out after a week.”

  “And thirdly, hardly anyone is speaking to me,” I added dryly.

  “There is that. But we are going to work on it. Besides, it looks like Gabriel is talking to you.” I caught a smirk on her face.

  “Shut it.” I could feel the blush creep up on my face.

  “What is his deal anyway?” She flipped through a magazine nonchalantly, but I knew better. She was gauging my reaction.

  Just as casually, I replied, “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, c’mon! You were eating your irritation away in cookie form.”

  I shrugged. “There’s not much to say. He’s annoying.”

  “Jade says he does not really speak to anybody else besides you. And he would not stop staring at you at the bar and even followed you up there when you got drinks before that big fight. Maybe he has a thing for you.”

  A bark of laughter slipped from my mouth. “Ha! A thing for me? Please. He doesn’t even know me. Besides, you know I like Keegan.”

  “Yes, I know. I think it is funny that Gabriel has such an interest in you, though.”

  “He’s making it his current goal to aggravate me because he has nothing better to do. He’s a twit.”

  “I am pretty sure that is a sign of adoration coming from boys. At least that is how it starts on the playgrounds.”

  “Delia, he does not like me. I think he talks to me because we’re both new. I mean, his main reason for talking to me by our camper was to ask what my defense was for not being Marty’s killer,” I explained.

  “Oh. Well, maybe I am wrong then. In that case, at least someone is talking to you,” she cheerfully replied.

  “I wouldn’t really mind if he hopped on the bandwagon and decided not to speak to me,” I grumbled.

  Chapter 13

  I thought the next two days would be the worst. Several people elbowed me, shoved a shoulder into me as I walked by. When I gave them shocked looks, they just shrugged and kept walking. Others turned their backs on me, even giving me the middle finger if I didn’t get the first hint and lingered too long.

  I gave a final try to help out an acrobat. She was beautiful, with dark hair pulled back into a bun. Her glittery tights had an obvious run and she looked distraught.

  “Can I help you in any way?” I asked as I approached her.

  She looked up from her tights to me, her face growing whiter underneath the bright makeup. Even as she paled, however, her eyes narrowed and she gave me a venomous look.

  “You cannot help me,” she said with a Russian accent.

  “I can go get you more tights or…” I trailed off as her eyebrows drew together in anger, giving her pretty face a birdlike expression.

  “You cannot help me,” she repeated. “You killed Marty.”

  She spat in the dirt at my feet and put her nose in the air. My jaw dropped and I merely watched her turn on her heel and storm away. I had no retort, no sarcastic zinger to throw back. Did she just spit at me? That was now number one on the top five of rudest things ever said to me. That list didn’t really stop at five, either.

  After that, it got worse. They turned me invisible. The circus group didn’t get in my face or curse me; they did the exact opposite. It was as if I didn’t exist, the way they ignored my every move or offer. They talked around me, whispered behind my back. Delia and the others did their best to comfort me. Keegan walked with me almost everywhere he could, while they defended me to anyone who said a bad word about me. I held my head high and did my best to ignore it. There was nothing else I could do.

  I guessed everyone was too afraid of me to confront me directly. Or maybe they didn’t care enough, which gave me hope that no one really believed I could be capable of such things. People still wouldn’t let me help them, but they weren’t outright rude to my face. I only heard passing comments about how they wouldn’t let “that Firestarter girl” help them with any props. There were a few snide remarks about how they didn’t want to be set on fire or to watch out for my temper, but mostly overlooked me. I decided it was better that way.

  Sheffield took notice. He decided to put me between acts inside the Big Top to help get props off the center stage, help run sets or cages out for the performers who were running behind, or keep an eye out on any fire-related acts. Basically, it was a job that no one could deny or refuse my help because they had no choice. Smart man, that Sheffield. Clearly, he wasn’t paying me to hide in my camper.

  It was a bad day. Jonah’s Luck (a show term Delia taught me that meant when everything could go wrong, it would) struck us. No matter how hard Mabel and Lucinda tried, the weather sucked. Drizzling rain depleted our ticket sales, strong winds made the workers nervous about their tents, and thunderclaps made the animals grumble anxiously in their cages. On top of that, we ran about eight minutes behind, which led to complete disaster; it set everyone back and created chaos when artists attempted to go out of turn. Sheffield worked doubly hard to keep the audience happy and get us back on track. Everyone got defensive and snapped with each other.

  The clowns were sent out to distract the crowd while we waited for the horses to get lined up outside for the next act. We were trying the new slapstick comedy routine of a house fire and rescue. Having only done this gag twice before, the routine was still fairly new to everyone. The band began to play silly-sounding music. They were so loud that no one in the audience could hear the clowns talk; sometimes this led to some very dirty phrases that, because the band and speakers were in the seats above us, could be heard from the sidelines where we stood by.

  Keegan and Nikolas had finished their act and rejoined us in the tent. All five Firestarters were required to be present to control and contain the fire, since the house was literally set ablaze. This was one of the few skits that could quickly go wrong. Nikolas, Keegan, and I stayed in the wings to keep an eye on the audience and the clowns, while Antonio and Bobby, t
he other Firestarters, got dressed up in clown gear and became part of the gag. Bobby was a carrier but only impervious to fire, he couldn’t actually control it. Antonio, a carrier like Nikolas, needed a light to get started. Bobby could grab anyone who may have caught fire while Antonio could keep the flames big enough to seem impressive, but low enough not to scare anyone in the audience.

  While Sheffield cried in falsetto tones for help on his microphone, the other clowns piled themselves into an impossibly small fire truck to rush out to the house. They drove around the ring twice before spinning donuts beside the house, and when the clowns fell out to save the day, they stumbled around as though dizzy (or in some actual cases, drunk).

  Gary, a dwarf, waddled around to save the dog attached to a leash near the house. Henry, Bianca’s extremely well trained Jack Russell terrier, was taught to stay until Gary came near, then “bite” his ankle (really just the pant leg cloth), and hang on as Gary shook him off. Once Henry let go he broke loose from his collar and ran away and Gary waddled frantically after him. He jumped through a few hoops, where Gary immediately followed. This got huge laughs from the children in the audience as they watch a little person chasing a littler dog around the ring.

  Next up came Eli’s bit; once he rolled out of the clown car, he ran into the burning house, threw on a giant wig and strategically placed a fireproof vest in the chest of his costume, along with two ridiculously large rubber balls for breasts, to become a frantic woman about to jump from the second story window. This was where the Firestarters were most important. Antonio’s job was to light a flame out from behind Eli to “blow” him out of the window, where Bobby would catch Eli and land in a heap on the ground and ensure Eli had not caught fire. The key to this was Jade, who would float Eli down using her gift so that no one broke any bones. I wondered why they didn’t have Bobby play the woman and cut the middleman, but this wasn’t my show and no way was I about to insult anyone.

  I grabbed the water hose and handed it to Jarvis since he needed to run out as Eli screamed out the window for help. Jarvis grabbed several feet of it and ran out to greet the group. He lassoed it around his head to throw it at Joe, but wound up getting himself tangled in it, falling over. Physical humor was always the best way to get the crowd to laugh and tonight’s audience, while slim, was no exception.