by ML Michaels
Ragul stopped as he noticed there was no moon to be found in between the trees. He welcomed the pearly light and stared up at its mystical presence. The troupe had been here on the outskirts of Lancaster for nearly two weeks. Sighing, he wondered how much longer they would stay. If the circumstances had been normal, they’d be packing up any day now, and moving on to the next town. With the tragedy of Winifred’s murder, they were staying indefinitely. Homer refused to leave until the murderer was found out. Ragul had his own suspicions but couldn’t be sure. The legend he knew of the purple ladies was slightly different than the one Ronan had told. It still claimed that if one were to pick a dark lady, they would die that same night, but rather than being found dead, strung up by their feet, they would be found drowned in shallow water. The grotesque phenomenon occurred often when Ragul was a boy; to this day he was wary of the purple and red flower. It became known, however, that the legend was a cover-up for men who murdered their adulterous wives. He suspected the same thing was happening here. It was doubtful that a member of the circus troupe would have committed such a heinous crime. Winifred was well loved. It was most likely that there was something darker brewing about the village than met the eye. Ragul promised himself he would look out for Ronan, for the boy’s own sake as well as the safety of the troupe.
“Ronan? Are you serious?” Jana scoffed. “He couldn’t harm a fly, even if he tried.”
Homer stood in front of her with his arms folded across his chest. The large man’s belly hung over the top of his pants, and his face appeared ghoulish in the red light of the fire. “Trust me, you can never know. Someone’s deepest capabilities are not always apparent in their personality.”
“It could have been someone else from the village,” Jana pointed out.
“True. Even if it was, what were you doing bringing a villager to camp.”
“I told you. He has wanted to join the circus since he was a boy. I was trying to help him.”
“Jana, he’s an oogle,” Celeste reiterated. “We don’t take in oogles.”
“What was I then?”
“You were a young girl with exceptional talent, in need of help.”
Jana put her head down. She knew she shouldn’t have brought Ronan here, but she couldn’t resist him. She realized he seemed younger than he actually was. It was obvious that he was running away from something, and that he wanted out of the life he was born into. She hadn’t had a choice. She barely remembered her parents and the life she had before the circus; she’d been but a little girl when they abandoned her. Suddenly she felt tears beginning to burn behind her eyes. She felt exposed and put on the spot. Firelight flickered on the face of her companions, the night sounds from the forest mixed with the crackle of the fire, and the moon was nowhere to be seen. Tomas asked her a question, but she couldn’t hear him. Homer clasped a hand on her shoulder and looked at her anticipatorily. Nothing was making sense. Fight or flight overtook her, and she realized her feet were racing towards the cover of shadow before she knew what she was doing. Leaves brushed her cheeks as she sprinted through the darkness, attempting to find some sense of relief, unable to sink her feet into anything solid. The trees got larger and the foliage more and more dense the farther away from camp she got. Her lungs expanded, gulping in more oxygen to feed her system as she slowed, and finally stopped. What am I doing? she thought to herself. She had no destination; she was just trying to get away, from the circus troupe, from the drama, and most of all, from something inside of herself that was painfully trying to show its face.
Tearing through the dark forest got her nowhere except lost. The sound of crickets and the rustling of leaves were both spooky and familiar at the same time. But there was something more that she couldn’t ignore. A chill crept up her spine. She felt watched. It was as if something were breathing down her neck, but every time she turned around there was nothing there. For a moment she thought perhaps Ragul was tracking her, but then she remembered that she had seen him run off in the other direction to follow Ronan. There was no way he could have made it back in time to follow her. She crouched down, leaned against a tree, and strained her eyes to make out some of the menacing shapes around her. Feeling small and frightened, unable to see or think, she closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around her knees. She stayed like that for a long time, trying to become invisible.
Darby saw Jana run from camp and decided to follow her. He had watched the scene with Ronan, and was not surprised by how it unfolded. Winifred had told him how unfriendly and judgmental the circus troupe was of outsiders.
“Am I an oogle then?” he had asked her.
“No, because you don’t want to be one of us.”
Sometimes he regretted connecting with Winifred that night. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t be here now on a godforsaken mission that seemed destined for failure. He raced after Jana. She was running fast. A couple of times he had to pause, listen, and make sure he was running in the right direction. She finally stopped, and Darby could tell something was wrong with her. His eyes had become accustomed to darkness from his years of tracking. He was completely comfortable being in the woods at night, but it was obvious that she was very frightened. She sat down at the base of a tree and didn’t move for a very long time. After more than an hour had passed, Darby realized she had fallen asleep, and he decided to spend the night watching over her. Winifred had told him about Jana, and that she was special. Darby intended to find out in what ways; he intended to keep her safe.
He crept close enough to hear her breathing. She was wearing nothing but leggings and an off-the-shoulder shirt, exposing her arms and back. Concerned, he removed his jacket, and slowly placed it over her. A grumbled came from her little figure, but then she tucked it up under her chin, still asleep. He found a tree a couple of paces away, and slid down, sitting with his legs out straight. Here, he would keep watch. The night was still young. The moon wasn’t even up yet. Her breathing seemed magnified in the quiet forest, louder than the crickets, louder than the trees. To pass the time, he matched his breathing with hers. He dropped into a meditative state. Time felt irrelevant. The forest fell away. He existed in an indefinable space, breathing, thriving, and dancing with Jana’s breath. He began to sense what she was dreaming. Winifred’s red curls bobbed on his periphery, Homer’s grotesque belly appeared right in front of his face, and then there it was. Every way he turned, sounds, images and feelings blocked his way. A high-pitched scream. Winifred’s mutilated body. An uncanny feeling of not belonging, of having no home to go back to, of sand in his mouth, of shame. He felt his body shaking, someone kicking his boot. He leaned into the sensations, and then he heard a woman’s voice.
“Hello!”
Darby opened his eyes and shot up on to his feet. The sun was shining through the trees in orange rays. The night sounds had been over taken by morning sounds. Birds chirped their morning melodies, and Jana stood in front of him, holding his jacket in her arms.
“Who are you?” she demanded.
Sleep still lingered in Darby’s mouth and mind and eyes. He couldn’t seem to put together a sentence. “I—I…”
“You what? Who are you?” she demanded again. Her long hair was disheveled, and her eyes were slightly puffy. She was adorable. Darby gazed down at her groggily. Just tall enough to come up to his chest, she looked back up at him indomitably. He realized she may have been scared last night, but she didn’t need his protection. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself.
Finally, he managed to talk, “My name is Darby Bunker.”
“And why are you here, Darby Bunker?”
“I followed you.”
“Why?”
Darby rubbed his eyes and stretched his arms above his head. “I’ve been looking out for you,” he said, yawning.
“For how long?”
“Since Winifred died.”
Jana tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and looked to the side. Suddenly, she looked small like she did in fa
ct need guarding. He felt good about his decision to stay with her all night, to stay this past week or so, and watch over her. And then she opened her mouth.
“You’ve been following me? Who do you think you are? Who are you to decide that I need protecting? Who are you to invade my privacy and my life? I’ve felt you watching me, in the forest, in the field when I’m practicing my contortions. I could feel somebody watching. I don’t even know you.”
She said the last word with such contempt that Darby tried to take a step backwards, but the tree was behind him, and he ended up just scooting up against it. It felt like Jana was looming over him, even though she was a good foot and a half smaller than him.
“Look,” he said, preparing to defend himself, “I promised Winifred to look out for you.”
“How did you know Winifred?” she inquired, taking a step away from him, as if his answer had somehow satisfied her enough to calm down slightly.
“Two towns ago. I met her when the troupe was in Sheridan. It’s on the coast.
“Yeah, I remember.”
“Well, that’s where I live. I met Winifred one night after a show, and we got to talking. We got to more than talking. She knew some things about the circus that she wasn’t supposed to know, and I believe, that’s ultimately what got her killed.”
“You don’t think it was one of the villagers?”
“Ronan is a strange fellow, but I don’t think he’s a killer. There are some people in Lancaster who are really against the circus, but I don’t think they’d go as far as murdering a beautiful, young woman.”
“So who do you think it was?”
“I don’t know yet, but I intend to find out.”
Jana looked at him skeptically out of the corner of her eye. She held him frozen with her intense gaze, until she finally relaxed, stepped back even farther, giving Darby the opportunity to move away from the tree, and took a deep breath.
“I knew something was up with her. A couple of days before she died, she said she had something important to tell me, but the timing wasn’t right yet. She was murdered before I ever found out what it was.” Jana wrung her hands and tilted her head back. A patch of sunlight illuminated her face, and Darby’ heart skipped a beat. This was the closest he’d ever been to her. He’d been watching her for weeks, but from a distance. Up close she was a beautiful creature. Her neck was long and elegant, and her skin was almost golden in the sunlight. “Will you tell me everything she told you?”
Darby looked down at his feet. He didn’t want to put her in any danger, but then again she already was in danger. It’s better that she is informed, he decided. “Yes,” he agreed. “I’ll tell you everything.”
“Good,” Jana said and handed Darby back his jacket.
Homer and Josef sat by the fire, passing a bottle back and forth. Everyone else had long since gone to bed. Josef rested on a cushion someone had left behind, and Homer sat on a tree stump that was arguably too small for his large backside. The conversation between the two men had gone from exchanging jest and gossip to talking business. Both were undeniably drunk but neither would admit it, being the proud men they were.
“But Homer, how long are we going to stay here? Lancaster is not a very profitable or friendly town,” Josef inquired, keen to possess information before the rest of camp.
“Honestly, I don’t know for sure. It’ll have to be until we’ve broken even. We barely have enough money to make it to the next town,” Homer replied, and then took a big swill of liquor.
“How can that be? We’ve been here nearly two weeks. We never stay in one place this long. Plus, you’ve been pushing everyone so hard. We’ve done double the shows we usually do. There has to be enough.”
“Finances are…complicated right now.” Homer licked his lips and took another sip before handing the bottle to Josef.
“More complicated than usual?”
“You could say that,” Homer muttered, unwilling to provide any more information on the subject.
“Nobody has been paid their weekly salary in a month, Homer. People are beginning to get restless.” Josef leaned back, opened his throat and poured the liquor down. The bottle was more than half empty.
“I know, I know. People need to get paid, and we need to get going to the next town, but we can’t leave until we discover Winifred’s killer. If we don’t, I’ll lose face.”
“True,” Josef agreed. He put a hand to his chin, twirling his dark beard between pointer finger and thumb. “Very true.”
“I’ve had a terrible idea, but it may come down to it.”
“What is it?”
“We set someone up. We convince the troupe it was that person, and then get out of here.” Homer’s eyes bulged in his round face. He looked down at Josef with anticipation, sweating slightly from the booze and the heat of the fire.
“That Ronan boy. He’s already done a good job of getting himself disliked around camp. It wouldn’t be too difficult to get the rest of camp on board.”
“Exactly what I was thinking.”
“But then we never find out who the real murderer was.”
“Do we need to?” Homer asked.
“Depends if it was one of us our not.”
Homer went silent for a few moments, pondering Josef’s last words.
“I don’t think it matters,” he said. “The most important thing is keeping the troupe unified. Even if it was one of us, it wouldn’t be good for everyone to know.”
“Unless they kill again.”
“That won’t happen.”
“How do you know for sure?”
“I just do.”
Homer stood up and took the bottle from Josef. It was nearly dawn, and the two men had worn themselves out. Homer said his goodnights and staggered off to his tent. Josef sat by the fire, curious about what Homer had just said. How could he be certain that the murderer wouldn’t kill again? Whatever the reason, he knew that they had to get out of Lancaster as soon as possible, and was willing to do whatever it took to make that happen. He leaned back on the cushion, and gazed up at the stars contained by the tops of trees until he fell asleep next to the crackling fire.
Ronan flipped over in his bed after not having slept at all that night. What more can I do? he asked himself. He scratched his neck and stared out the small window above his desk. He was desperate, his dreams of joining the circus torn out of his grasp in just a couple of moments. How could the circus troupe reject him so quickly? They didn’t even know him, weren’t familiar with his passion, his determination. He would have given anything in the world to juggle with them, to walk on his hands, to ride the unicycle with a spinning plate balancing on his head. Anything! He flipped over and screamed into his pillow at the thought of having to stay in Lancaster one more day. His grandfather would never understand. The old man wanted him to become a priest or a teacher, but Ronan needed to work with his hands, be inspired, and be free.
The sky outside began to soften, and Ronan sat up in bed, realizing he could no longer lie there. Perhaps today something would happen, something would change his mind, or their mind, or fate would intervene. He decided he had to give his mind a break somehow, or he would go crazy. He would lose his mind, and therefore, never have a chance of joining the circus. If nothing happened today, then he would march back into the forest and demand a tryout, a chance. They couldn’t deny his resolve. They just couldn’t.
Darby wanted to sit somewhere comfortable while he explained everything he knew about Winifred and the secrets she had told him. He took Jana to a beautiful spot with a fallen tree that made a bridge over the stream, wide enough to walk across or sit in the middle of. The sun gushed down through the trees in golden patches of light and warmed the little waterhole. Jana realized she’d never been there before and stood with her head tilted up, gazing around at the tall pine trees. Darby came up behind her, and placing a hand on her lower back, said, “Care to join me on the log?”
“Sure,”
Jana said as she did a cartwheel onto the log, ending gracefully in a sitting position.
“You sure are talented.”
“So was Winifred.”
“I can’t deny that.”
“So what happened?”
Darby came and sat down on the log next to her. He sat just a little bit closer than he should have, and Jana scooted over to the side just a little bit. Darby glanced at her, and said, “Jana, I hope you don’t feel too uncomfortable around me. I didn’t mean to startle you earlier. I really was just looking out for you.”
“I believe you. I guess I’ve just been on edge since Winifred’s death.”
“That’s perfectly understandable.” He reached a hand out, and she lifted hers to meet his. When their skin touched, an electric shot ran up Jana’s arm and down the other. She blinked and looked into Darby’s eyes in astonishment.
“Did you feel that?” she exclaimed.
“I sure did.”
Jana felt something inside her shift or crack and open up like the blossoming of a flower or the unfolding of her closed heart. She hadn’t felt stirrings for another human like this in a long time. When Ronan had kissed her, it had been stiff and unexpected. She suddenly wondered what it would be like to kiss Darby’s soft lips, have his strong hands gripping the sides of her face. Darby was a handsome man, she now realized as they began to relax into each other’s company. He tossed his oversized coat onto the moss on the bank of the stream, and settled down on the log again with his hands on his knees.
