The Wild in her Eyes

by Karina Giörtz

  A wave of nods moved through their small assembly, and then they began to disperse, some in pairs and some solo, until Annis and Sequoyah were the only two remaining.

  “You know what you’re going to do?” he asked. His own Christmas treat was stowed carefully in a leather satchel over his shoulder, much like a true Santa Clause would carry.

  “I have an idea,” Annis whispered, though it wasn’t nearly as clear or prepared as she’d have liked. She was relying a great deal on inspiration to strike in the moment.

  He leaned in and softly kissed her cheek. “Remember, it’s supposed to be fun.” Then, facing her, he backed away until the shadows swallowed him. She was on her own.

  “Right, Annis,” she muttered to herself to keep from feeling as alone as she was. “You’re going to love this.” Nerves swirled at the pit of her stomach and, though the sensation still made her nauseated, she’d learned to welcome the feeling because it eventually led to brilliant results, as she’d learned from Bess.

  “Come on,” she whispered to Fin, though he never needed prompting. “Let’s go find our Christmas mark.”

  Moving swiftly through the dark, Annis walked along the main street until she felt pulled to turn right, into a dreary alley that was made more ominous in the pitch of night. Annis wasn’t scared. Instead, she felt determined in her mission, convinced she’d found the path to the recipient destined for her Christmas cheer.

  Her steps slowed until she came to a stop near the end of the alley.

  “What do you think?” she asked Fin. He sat back on his haunches as though to let her know he also felt they’d arrived.

  The brick building was four stories tall, and several of its windows were patched with boards. From where she stood Annis could see clotheslines filled with laundry that flapped gently in the evening breeze.

  “I think I’ve an idea,” she muttered, approaching the building. Scanning the walls, she searched for a way to scale them. The drainpipe would have to do, she decided.

  “Wait here,” Annis told Fin, who accepted the order and lowered himself to the ground to wait for her. She took a deep breath, reached both hands as high as she could, and clasped the pipe to pull herself up. The bricks provided reasonable traction under her shoes. By the time she’d reached the first floor, she’d established a comfortable rhythm in her movements. When she reached the rooftop, she swung her legs over the ledge one at a time. There was no time to catch her breath or appreciate the success of her climb. She went straight to work. She took down the clothes, folded them neatly, and placed them in the baskets sitting at the center of the roof. When she finished, she placed on each stack of laundry a small bundle of Christmas cookies she’d baked with Momma after supper.

  Taking a step back to assess her work, she let out a satisfied sigh. Not bad for her first time. She glanced at the clock tower in the center of town. Only three minutes to spare.

  Annis wasted not a second getting back to the drainpipe. Rather than grip it with her bare hands, she looped around it the sling she’d used to carry her Christmas cookies and slid all the way down. As soon as her feet touched the ground, she began running, with Finian right on her heels.

  Exhilaration spurred her on as she raced through the alley, heading back the way she came. There was no time to check the clock, so she kept her eyes forward and ran faster and faster until she reached their meeting point, where she crumpled over at the waist and gasped for air. “Did I...make it?” she stammered in between breaths while trying to count the shadowed figures in her midst.

  “Not even the last one back,” Caroline told Annis, patting her back.

  “There they are,” Sawyer said, pointing to the left. Even in the dark, there was no mistaking the twins. Their shape, the way they moved, and the constant bickering always made them easy to recognize.

  “Would you hurry up?” Annis could hear Maude even from several feet away. “I told you not to wear those shoes!”

  “You’re just mad because they make me look taller than you,” Mabel huffed, clearly struggling for breath and speed.

  “You’re ridiculous. You can’t walk in those heels, and even if you could, it’s throwing off the entire balance between us. I feel like I’m being yanked up with every step you take. Worse, it’s pulling me backwards, because all you can manage is a speedy hobble when what we need to do is run!”

  “Are you mad? I’m not running in heels!” Mabel’s indignant tone was enough to make Maude snort in exasperation. When they realized they’d been within earshot of the others for quite some time, neither said any more on the matter.

  “Perhaps wardrobe issues can be discussed prior to leaving next time?” Sawyer said, and then smirked. The group seamlessly moved forward as though the twins were the missing link they’d needed to be set into motion.

  “I don’t want to hear anything about my wardrobe from you, Smalls. You haven’t managed to pair up a proper set of socks in weeks,” Maude said in his direction.

  Sawyer said nothing in response, which Annis took as a silent truce. He’d never accept defeat, but there was little for him to retort with for the moment.

  The group carried on, leaving town faster than they’d entered it. They grew increasingly louder as they moved, sensing safety in their isolation.

  “You’re being awfully quiet,” Annis said, noticing Goldilocks glance in her direction for the fourth time in the last few minutes. “Have a hard time with your task?”

  “No,” he said curtly. He stared down at the ground, a grim expression taking over his face so that he looked nothing like the lighthearted boy they all knew him to be.

  “What’s wrong?” Sequoyah asked, apparently noticing as well.

  Goldilocks came to an abrupt stop, prompting everyone around him to do the same. “The problem is I found this when I was in town.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket, unfolding it before he held it out for everyone to see. “I don’t know what to make of it. Maybe you could help, Emmeline.” He glared at Annis. “It is you, isn’t it?” he demanded, thrusting the wanted poster directly at her.

  “Don’t be stupid,” Mabel sniped. “Of course it’s not her. That says wanted for murder. You think Annis would kill someone? Look at her.”

  Annis could feel all eyes cast in her direction, burning through her with a curiosity she couldn’t bear the weight of. She had no answer for them. She had no words at all. Her throat had closed up the second she’d seen the empty stare of her own eyes cast back at her. She remembered the day the photo was taken. It had been a portrait ordered by her mother as a present for her father’s birthday. Annis’s mother had nagged the entire time, complaining about everything from her hair to the way her fingers couldn’t help but fidget from the nerves of being picked apart.

  Her feet felt cold and tingly. Her knees were certain to give out at any moment. Her head felt dizzy, as though a fog had seeped into her brain that made it hard to think, hard to see clearly, and harder still to hear.

  Voices were blending together in a whir of sounds, none of which she could understand before they were drowned out by the thunderous beating of her own heart exploding in her ears and obliterating the world around her.

  “Annis!” Sequoyah’s voice reached her through all the chaos, and she blinked several times, trying to focus on him. “Annis, answer me,” he pleaded with her.

  “I’m sorry,” she wheezed through clenched teeth, stumbling backwards. Her knees buckled. Her hands clasped at dirt and grass as she hit the ground, landing hard on her left hip. She was sure it would hurt later but she felt nothing now, too stunned by the unexpected turn of events to feel anything.

  Sequoyah was down in the dirt beside her, holding her hand. His hand was clammy and cold. No. That was hers. Cold beads of sweat ran down her back.

  “Annis,” he said, ever the calm eye of her unfolding storm. “Talk to me. I don’t care what you say, but I need to hear your voice. I need to know you’re still there.”

  “Emme
line,” she breathed, the name washing over her the way the cold of the river had the night she’d let her die.

  “Is that your name?” he asked softly.

  “No,” Annis shook her head. “I’m not her.” Tears stung her eyes and a wicked lump forced its way into her clenched throat, causing an agonizing pressure she couldn’t release. “She’s...gone.”

  Annis felt Mabel take her other hand as she and Maude knelt on the other side of her. “Annis,” Maude said quietly. “We need to get you back to camp, alright?” She looked to Sequoyah, who nodded. Gently, he reached both arms around Annis, one under her legs and the other around her torso. Then, ever so tenderly, he lifted her out of the dirt and carried her the remainder of the way back.

  Annis closed her eyes to keep the world from spinning.

  Murder.

  Wanted.

  Months had passed. The miles she’d traveled, and still, here she was, closer to being caught in the deadly fangs of her past than ever.

  Annis remembered little of their walk home. Upon arriving back in camp, she was whisked straight to their car and told repeatedly not to leave by several people, though the only voice that stood out was Sequoyah’s.

  As soon as the door shut behind everyone, Annis was on her feet, pacing. Back and forth from one door to the other, stopping at each end just short of turning the handle and making a run for it every time. She couldn’t stay, couldn’t risk anyone else getting hurt. But then she considered their efforts to bring her back here, to keep her safe. Maybe they could help her. Maybe this didn’t have to be the end of it all. But maybe someone else would be asked to pay the same price others had already paid in an attempt to save her.

  No. She couldn’t risk it.

  Her hand twisted the handle before she could have another bout of doubts. She stepped outside and slammed the door shut before Fin could follow. She wouldn’t make him live the life of uncertainty and sacrifice that lay ahead for her. Making a sharp left, she cut through to the other side of the tracks, running as fast as she could without looking back, without thinking at all.

  Tears ran down her cheeks as she relived the night that she thought she’d put behind her for good. How often would this cycle repeat? How could she prevent this madness from consuming the rest of her life?

  Keeping north of town, she watched the stars, relying on them once more to guide the way the farther she got from the train. The terrain was already changing. The thicket of woods made it harder to run. Still, she pushed onward, seeking the shelter of the trees, knowing they would keep her hidden as they had before. The pounding in her ears grew louder as she ran. Maybe her heart would burst right in her chest and put an end to her story all at once—a beautiful, tragic mess tidied up in one swift move.

  Then, she felt the familiar motion of another falling into step beside her, merging with her movements seamlessly. Annis didn’t have to see to know that it was Finian. Nor could she continue to deny the true source of the endless pounding getting louder every second. She knew what she heard were hooves marking the earth with each thunderous step that Catori took toward her.

  “Annis!” Her heart stopped beating all together at the sound of his voice. Her feet followed suit.

  “Go back,” she yelled, turning to watch as he drew nearer.

  “No!” The mare’s legs stretched out in front of her, bringing her to a dramatic sliding stop only feet from where Annis stood. Sequoyah leapt from her back and rushed to Annis’s side. “What are you doing?” he demanded, shaking her by the shoulders. “We told you to stay in the train car. We told you we would take care of things. Why would you run?” He sounded as helpless as she felt. “What is really going on here, Annis? Is it true? Did you really kill someone?"

  “No.” She couldn’t even believe herself when she said it. How would she ever convince anyone else. “Not directly.”

  “What does that mean?” He shook his head, frustration and fear twisting his face up in agony.

  “It means I knew she would die if I left, I knew he would kill her for helping me escape. We both did...” Annis cried, screaming out into the night and reeling her breath back in with a chest-shattering sob. “But I left anyway.” Her knees gave out and she fell into his chest. He caught her and held her tight as she fell apart in the safe confines of his strong arms.

  “Please come back with me,” he whispered, his mouth pressed to the side of her head to place desperate kisses over her hair. “Please come home. Let us help you.”

  “No,” she blubbered. “You’ll all be in danger. I can’t let you risk your lives for me. I’ve already lost one family. I won’t lose another.”

  “That’s not a reason, Annis,” he refused her. “We can all protect ourselves. Hell, most of us have been hunted ourselves at one point or another. That’s why we’re all here. And why you belong with us, where we can keep you safe!”

  “I’ll never be safe,” Annis whispered, dreading the sound of her own words and the truth they bore. “Even if I thought you could keep me safe, it’s not just one person who’s after me anymore. I’m wanted, Sequoyah. Every second I stay is a second that I put everyone at risk. I’d be asking everyone to break the law to let me stay.”

  “We already do that, Annis,” he reminded her. “Or did you forget about our friendly circus fugitives, Francis and Will? Or even Sawyer, for that matter.”

  “Goldilocks didn’t seem too keen on adding another when he found my wanted poster though, did he?” Annis was grasping at straws to keep him from winning this debate. If she lost, she’d give in and go home. From there, the deadly consequences were anybody’s guess.

  “Goldilocks doesn’t care that you’re wanted any more than I do. It was lying about who you are that set him off. You should trust us by now, Annis. You should have told us yourself.” Unlike Goldilocks, Sequoyah wasn’t angry. He was hurt. She understood. He had every reason to be. She’d owed them the truth, but she’d been selfish. Keeping everything in had been easier than sharing it, and choosing easy over right was a mistake that she knew, even as she was making it, would come back to reap its due payment.

  “I know,” she said, feeling herself crumble internally, her physical body slowly folding in on itself and threatening to surrender. “I just...couldn’t.” It was a weak answer, but she was weak. She felt broken from all she’d been running from and was now no longer certain she would ever recover, not when he was coming back for her a second time—this time from both sides of the law.

  “Please,” Sequoyah tried again. “Come back with me. Get on the train. Get cleaned up. We’ll make tea. We’ll all be there. And you can tell us then. And together we can figure this out.”

  “There’s nothing to figure out.” Annis’s frustration created tension that reached from her clenched jaws to her back. A dull pounding started inside her head. “I’m wanted for murder, Sequoyah. Not petty theft.”

  “But you’re not guilty!” His voice raised louder than she’d ever heard it.

  “It doesn’t matter!” Her lungs burned.

  “Why not?” he shouted. They were both caught in the chaos of emotion.

  “Because he’s the law! He killed them, and he’ll never get caught because he’s the law. He decides who’s guilty. And he’s decided it’s me. This will never go away. I’ll never be able to prove my innocence because no one will ever question my guilt. Don’t you see? He’s cornered me. It was bad enough when I thought it was just him and his men, but now he’s gone public. His reach is limitless. It’s only a matter of time before he finds me. And I don’t want any of you anywhere near me when he does.”

  “Too bad.” Maude’s voice startled Annis.

  “Because we’re in this with you,” Mabel continued.

  “Where you go,” Caroline said.

  “We all go,” Sawyer, of all people, concluded.

  Annis could hardly believe it. They’d all come after her. Even Homer, who must have struggled across the terrain, even being led by his wife. She wou
ld have been nearly as blind as he was in this dark. Goldilocks was there, too, along with August, Momma T, and Bess, and they all nodded in agreement with what the others had said aloud.

  “But I never gave you a choice,” Annis said, guilt swelling in her throat as the words spilled out. “I never told you what you were really opening your lives to when you let me in. It’s not right. And dragging you in deeper, it wouldn’t be fair to any of you.” A lone tear trickled down her already soaked cheeks.

  “We’re choosing now, Annis,” Homer said, stepping forward. “And we’re choosing you.”

  Annis had no words, though a million different thoughts raced inside her head. Questions, mostly. She wondered why they saw such value in her when she’d yet to contribute anything to the circus or the crew she deemed worthy, and why they were so willing to risk their own lives to save hers.

  She turned to face the man beside her in search of answers. “Why?”

  “Always have.” Sequoyah’s arm nestled her tight to his side.

  “Thank you,” she breathed, her throat too swollen to pass much more than air. “You’ll never know what this means to me. What you all mean to me.”

  “I do believe that feeling is mutual,” Maude teased with a smirk.

  “Now, then, if we’ve settled the all-of-us-or-none-of-us debate,” Sawyer interrupted with a tone gruffer and more characteristic of him, “can we get on with the all of us heading back to the train bit? Because I see no real reason to miss it and be stuck here indefinitely, yeah?”

  There was a resounding yes all around, and they began the trek back to the train.

  Annis hadn’t realized how far she’d run until the time came to walk back. She found herself apologizing repeatedly for putting everyone through the extra hike given the long day they’d all had already. The bulk of her apologies were met with dismissive laughter and obscene gestures, the latter coming primarily from Sawyer.

  It wasn’t until they all were settled back on the train, chugging peacefully along toward their next stop, did a deeper conversation begin among the group. “Let’s have it then,” Maude said. They all cradled in their hands fresh cups of chamomile tea, served by Momma T. “The whole story,” Maude continued. “I don’t care how long, or how far back you have to go. We want the beginning.”