by Trudi Jaye
Garth led the way out of the office and back to their battered Jeep. Rilla and Jack followed in silence. No one said a word as Jack backed out of the parking space and turned the four-wheel drive toward the Compound. Garth watched them both from the backseat, unsure where to start the required conversation. Somehow in the half hour it would take them to get back home, he had to get them ready to face the rest of the Nine.
“We’ll figure out a way to make the payment,” said Rilla in a whisper. “I don’t know how, but we will.”
Garth clenched his hand into a fist at the fear in her voice. She’d survived the death of her father, attempts at sabotage from her father’s oldest friend, and almost being killed in a high-wire accident. But it seemed dealing with the local bank manager was going to be what stopped her in her tracks.
But he needn’t have worried.
“We’re going to be fine,” said Jack before Garth could open his mouth. “That smaller first payment is manageable. We maybe sell a couple of Viktor’s inventions, get Missy to do an event or two. And I know Tami always has her ear to the ground for catering opportunities. We’ll be fine. Then we’ll all sit down and work out how to make the next two payments.”
Garth’s mouth quirked at the corner. That was what was so great about Jack. He had such a clear vision of things, and he saw it all through a completely different lens than the rest of them. Insurmountable problems seemed a little more manageable with him around. “He’s right, Rilla. We can come up with something to make money from our skills. It’s what we do.”
Jack nodded, glancing over at Rilla and then back to the road. “The Carnival isn’t going to be beaten by a bank, Rilla. We’ve got the help of generations of family on our side.” The confidence in Jack’s voice was contagious, just what they all needed.
“So how are we going to break it to the rest of the Nine?” Rilla turned to look at Garth in the back. “I mean, we have to tell them, right?”
Garth frowned, glancing between Rilla and Jack. “We’re a family, Rilla. And we’re the kind of family that pulls together in times of hardship. If everyone knows how fragile this is, they’ll work even harder and longer to make sure we find a way out.”
Rilla nodded. “You’re right. I’m just trying to protect them.”
“Your job isn’t to protect us. It’s to lead us.”
***
“What are we going to do?” Tami asked, her eyes flicking from Rilla to Jack where they stood at the front of the room. “How are we going to find the money?”
Rilla smiled, her confidence almost glowing from her very pores. “We have a plan,” she said.
Garth fought back a grin. No one could lead a show like Rilla, and running the Nine was just another form of showmanship. He was glad for her sake that she’d finally learned that lesson. He was keeping to the back of the room, letting them lead as they needed to. They were still consolidating their position, and he didn’t want to confuse things. He’d only gone to the bank because he’d known Baxter would listen to him, where he might have been able to ignore Rilla and Jack.
“The first payment is due next week, and we have some short-term ideas for that. We’ll talk to those individuals who will be affected, but essentially, we’ll be raising the funds in a few different ways.” She took a deep breath. “But the big idea, that’s something different. We’ll need everyone’s help on that one.”
Viktor looked up from where he’d been staring into his warm coffee mug. “We’re not going to help you sell the Compound, lass. It just ain’t gonna happen.” His voice was rough with emotion.
Rilla shook her head. “We’re not selling any of the land. We’re not there yet.”
Jack stepped toward Viktor. “But we will need a patent from you, Viktor, for the first payment. Something you’re not worried about selling on.”
Viktor raised his eyebrows. “You selling my ideas?”
“Just one, maybe two. For the good of the Carnival.”
“What makes you think you can get a decent amount for it?” Viktor’s voice suggested he didn’t think they would fetch ten dollars, let alone the tens of thousands they would need.
Jack shook his head. “Are you kidding? You’re a freaking genius, Viktor. I could get a bundle for any one of your ideas. But all we need at the moment is one small invention that I can put on the open market.”
Viktor nodded slowly. “I’ll have a think. Figure out which one is best.”
Garth watched the Thrillmaster carefully. It was a new thing, having someone like Jack around. Jack had lived all his life outside the Carnival, and he thought differently than the rest of them. He saw value in things they saw as ordinary. Viktor’s inventions were everyday to most people in the Carnival. Viktor’s whole family liked to invent things and tinker with machines. They were always making changes to the rides, which had earned them a reputation for being the best thrill ride carnival on the circuit.
“So what’s this idea you have, then?” The challenging voice belonged to Missy. Small and lithe with dark eyes and black hair, she was like a mini version of her father, Christoph. Garth felt a burst of pain in his chest. Missy had opted to stay with the Carnival when her parents left. Christoph had been thrown out for crimes against the Carnival, and Barbarina had chosen to go with him, unable to let him endure life on his own in the outside world.
Garth wondered how she was doing. Missy was hard to read, with eyes that held in all her secrets and long hair that hid her face when she wanted it to. But despite her evasiveness—or perhaps because of it—there was something about Missy that always attracted attention. She could hold her own in almost any environment and never lost her cool. She was young, not yet twenty-five, but no one had questioned that she would take over for her father on the Nine.
Her act was what was most important to her, and she was one hundred percent committed to it. The Carnival had more of her soul than her family. If it had been any other way, she would have gone with them.
And deep in his heart, Garth knew what that felt like. His heart and soul belonged with the Carnival. When he’d realized what happened to Jack’s father, Blago—he’d been thrown out—it made him feel physically sick. It had been a generation before his time, and the old hands never talked about that kind of thing. But it was a shock to learn the Carnival would really eject one of them to protect itself.
Garth’s heart beat a little faster, and his hands started shaking. The thought of trying to make some kind of life for himself outside the Carnival made his brain start to blur. The air around him became thick and he started to huff in his breath. He couldn’t even begin to think about living outside.
He forced himself to calm down. This kind of reaction was part of his ability at the Carnival. He was connected to the emotions of other people so often that he had to work hard to keep his own dampened down and under control. He blinked a few times and looked up to the front of the room, focusing his attention back on Rilla and Jack. He wasn’t leaving the Carnival. It was fine. They would all find a way through this.
“We needed an idea. Something so big, so brash that it can’t go wrong.” Rilla paused and looked around the room, her grin expectant. “We’ve decided to put on a Winter Spectacular.”
There were mumblings from around the room. Viktor and Alfie gave each other a look, and Missy groaned.
Tami frowned at Jack and Rilla. “How is that possible? You just finished telling us we’ve got no money and we need to make it from selling off Viktor’s inventions. How are we going to fund an extra show?”
Rilla glanced at Jack, then back at the room. “Jack and Frankie have been doing some tests. Frankie can leave the caravan as long as he has Jack with him as a kind of buffer.”
“So?” Tami’s face remained scrunched up.
“Frankie and Jack think they can get to Las Vegas, and between them, win some money. Money we can then use in the setup of a new show.”
“Why don’t they just win enough for the payments?” Missy as
ked.
“Frankie’s known in Vegas, so he can’t stay long in each casino. Jack is going to have to do the playing where he can. Frankie thinks they’ll be able to put together enough for a show, but it will come in gradually, in drips and drabs, not in the kind of bulk we’d need for the payments. We need something more dramatic, a large lump sum we can take to the bank, preferably covering the last two repayments all at once. We can get that from one full house, if we manage it right. We could maybe leverage it in other ways, like an online subscription or merchandise around the Winter Spectacular idea.”
“Isn’t it dangerous? Frankie’s face is up everywhere in Vegas.” Alfie’s expression showed his concern for the young gambler.
Rilla nodded. “If they get caught, it won’t be the police who get to them. It will be casino security. And we all know how they’ll treat someone they think has been cheating.”
“They won’t be able to prove a thing,” said Tami indignantly.
“They don’t need to. They’re a law unto themselves out there.” She glanced at Jack again. “So they’ll just have to be careful and not take too many risks.”
Jack nodded. “Frankie knows his way around, and we’ll take it slowly.”
“So we’re doing a winter show?” Missy’s voice interrupted impatiently. “We don’t get a break?”
“Not just any show.” Rilla scanned the room, her eyes shining. “A show on the ice lake.”
Garth grinned, loving the beat of anticipation that hung in the space.
Then there was an audible intake of breath from several people. Garth glanced around, trying to watch as many of the faces as he could. Missy looked intrigued, Tami horrified. Viktor was shaking his head. Alfie frowned. He wouldn’t want the animals on the ice; that much was certain.
“But…”
Rilla held up her hand. “Before you think of too many objections, let me tell you more about it. Then we can discuss the issues. I’ll give you all time to think about it, and we can meet again tomorrow to discuss it further.”
“My animals won’t go on that lake. It’s too thin.” Alfie crossed his arms.
“If you really think that, then we’ll do a show without the animals. But I think it’s worth working with some of them to see what they will and won’t do, Alfie. At least give it a go?” Rilla’s voice was soft and persuasive. She would talk Alfie into it. It would just be a matter of time.
Garth glanced around the room. In fact, he thought they would be able to talk everyone around.
They had no choice. They were desperate.
“What about our other problem?” said Viktor.
Garth scowled at the Thrillmaster. Sticking his nose in where it didn’t belong.
Rilla flicked a glance at Garth before turning to Viktor. “You mean the boy? Simon?”
“I don’t know why you lot snuck him out of that hospital, and I sure as hellfire don’t know why we’re still harboring him. His father tried to destroy us.”
Garth stood up. “Hugo left him. He nearly destroyed that poor boy as well, and then he left him,” he said, gesturing with his hand. “Now that broken boy has nowhere to go and no one to look after him. His family might have been thrown out all those years ago, but Simon’s just a kid, and we shouldn’t do the same to him, not without cause.”
Viktor looked at Garth, his expression bland. “He doesn’t remember what his father did to him, right? And we ain’t told him?”
Garth nodded reluctantly.
“Then how do we know he’s not going to lead his father straight here?”
“He won’t. He thinks his father is overseas, and Hugo can’t find us even if he wanted to because of the ban. If Simon leaves the Compound, I don’t think he’ll be able to see it again either. And just in case we’re completely wrong, we’re keeping a close eye on him to make sure Hugo doesn’t make contact.”
“Have you considered that maybe he’s already secretly helping out his papa by being here? How do we know this isn’t some kind of elaborate trick?”
“It’s not a trick, Viktor. Come and meet Simon. He’s a good kid. And the Carnival obviously thinks so too, or we wouldn’t have been able to bring him here. Simon believes Hugo had to leave unexpectedly, and he doesn’t remember anything from the last year. Hugo kept his vendetta to himself. At least until recently.”
“And you believe this memory loss bullshit?” Viktor leaned forward, his hairy arms on the table in front of him.
“According to the doctor, his memory loss is a localized amnesia. Apparently it’s a common defense mechanism when a parent hurts a child.” Garth leaned forward, looking everyone in the eye, one after the other. “We couldn’t just leave him there, scared and alone.”
Viktor harrumphed, then leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “I’m just saying we need to make sure we’re not being played. We’re hanging on by a hair’s breadth at the moment. We need all the blessings we can get.”
Garth nodded. “We’ve taken all the precautions we can think of. But he’s a good kid, who happens to have a very bad man for a father.”
***
Garth took a deep breath and forced himself to walk up the short path toward the large suburban house in Madison. He’d rather be back at the Compound, in yet another planning session with the Nine. They’d had several over the last few days, determining exactly how much money they needed by each of the three dates the bank had given them, who could earn it, what they were going to do to earn it. Garth found the meetings long and tedious, but it was still better than walking up the steps into this house. Something in his chest shriveled a little more every time he came here. It was like a glimpse into his future that he didn’t need to be reminded about. But he had no choice.
He smiled at the matronly woman at reception. “Hi, Linda. How are you today?”
Linda smiled up at him. “Garth! Lovely to see you. He’s doing well today. Just go on through.” She waved him toward to the communal lounge shared by the patients at Sunnyvale Rest Home.
Garth walked along the corridor, trying to shake the feeling that it was crowding in on him, and emerged into the large lounge area. Big windows let in the light, and there were groups of older men and women sitting in various positions around the room. Some sat looking out the window, some watched the television on the wall, and others sat sipping tea and talking amongst themselves.
Looking around the room for one particular face, Garth finally saw his father at a table, flicking through a deck of cards. He had an audience of two other men, both with lined faces and blank eyes that watched his father’s hands. Garth watched for a moment as his father worked the cards with a precision at odds with his presence in this room. A much younger woman sat next to the three men, scribbling on a notepad and frowning through her glasses. She had long, straight brown hair tied back off her face in a severe bun and a smattering of freckles across her nose.
“Dad.” Garth walked up to his father and put a hand on his shoulder.
His father looked up at him and frowned. “Do I know you, lad?”
Garth felt the familiar sharp pain in his chest. His only family, and Garth was as good as dead to him. He smiled through the pain. “Dad, it’s me, Garth. Your son.”
A clouded look came over his father’s face. He glanced up at Garth. “You’re my son?”
“Yes, Dad. We just arrived back off the circuit. I came in to see you a couple days ago.”
“I don’t… I don’t remember.” He glanced over at the woman taking notes. “Do you know him, Maddy?” he asked her.
The woman looked up from her notes, a soft expression on her face. “No, Milton, I don’t know him. But I only just arrived yesterday.”
“Oh.” Milton nodded and then went back to dealing the cards.
He’d already lost track of the conversation.
It felt like a little part of him died every time Milton denied knowing him. Garth forced himself to smile at the woman who’d just witnessed yet another of his death
s at the hands of his father. “I’m Garth. Milton’s son,” he said grimly.
She stood and held out a hand, her face serious. “Dr. Madelaine Annandale. I’ll be here for a couple of months, studying the patients at Sunnyvale.”
Studying? Like they were insects? Garth felt his blood heat. He hated coming here, and his father didn’t remember him, but Milton was still his dad. “Don’t you need permission for that?” he said, matching the ice in his voice with a narrow stare.
Dr. Annandale swallowed but otherwise showed no visible reaction. “I was waiting for your visit today to talk with you about signing a release form.” She glanced around at the patients. “Perhaps we could talk about this in private?”
“No need,” said Garth. “I’m not signing anything. My father isn’t a lab rat. The last thing he would want is to be studied like he was an insect under a microscope.”
The doctor stepped out from the table, smiling at the three men. “Excuse me, gentlemen,” she said. “Thank you for a lovely card game.” All three men smiled back at her as if they’d really been playing cards.
She walked a little bit away from the table, and after a small hesitation, Garth followed. When she stopped and turned around, he was able to get a proper look at this upstart doctor. She was wearing plain black trousers, small heels, and a sensible cream shirt. A tiny silver locket glinted from around her neck, the only part of her that seemed to shine with life in this dark place. Garth felt his frown lower even farther.
She was the complete opposite of all the women he knew in the Carnival. She’d be like a sparrow amongst peacocks if she ever showed her face at the Compound. Not that she’d ever get a chance.
He folded his arms and waited in silence.
The doctor looked at his face and swallowed again. But she kept going. “Look, Garth, just hear me out. Let me talk to you about it, explain what I’ll be doing. It’s not invasive. They won’t even know I’m there half the time.”
I’ll bet, thought Garth. You’ll fade into the background. Flit from table to table like a little brown bird. “What’s the use of watching a bunch of old people sitting around? There’s nothing to see,” he said with an edge to his voice. He’d spent enough time here watching his father and making one-sided conversation to know.
