by CeeCee James
“What’s it to you?” he asked, defensively.
“Well, I know she just bought herself that new pair of shoes. Versace, weren’t they? And then there’s the diamond necklace. Quite expensive.”
He snorted. “Her boyfriend bought them for her.”
“Well, she got the money somehow.” Footsteps approached the wardrobe where I was. I squeezed even smaller and held my breath. I wasn’t sure what would happen if they discovered me here.
The wardrobe door opened past the crack that I’d left it. I froze. Above me came the sound of metal clanging from the hangers being slid along the metal pole.
I’m invisible. You can’t see me.
Time stood still.
Thump. Thump. Thump. I prayed hard, certain my body reverberated from the harsh beating of my heart.
“And you think it was her boyfriend, huh?” There was a rattle overhead as an outfit was pulled off the rack. Then footsteps walking away.
Hot tears of relief burned my eyes. I wiped my eyes against my knees and eased out a breath.
“Yeah, boyfriend. You know about him.” Vincent said. I could hear he was still polishing the sword.
“Oh, come one! He’s a cheapskate. I highly doubt he bought her jewelry and shoes. No, she definitely received the money from someone else,” Tiffany retorted.
“Shhh, let him catch you saying that and he’ll be wearing your tongue for jewelry. Honestly. You’d think you had cotton balls for brains.”
“I’m not afraid of him.” Tiffany sounded fake. “And I’d think you’d be more interested since you’re out the money she owed you. Which, in turn, you owed the brothers. Serves you right for lending money just because someone asked you real pretty-like.”
“I’m not out the money,” he growled.
“Really? That’s not what I hear.”
“You talking to people about me? Because I warn you…”
“Warn me? I’d like to see you try. I’ll have Jason have a talk with you,” she answered hotly.
I knew Jason. He was the strong man of the circus, and his lead trick was pulling a semi-truck. Was he the one she’d been talking to earlier?
Vincent snorted in disgust. “You think what you want, Tiffany. Only keep my name out of your mouth.”
“I’m just saying, her death is pretty convenient.” Tiffany’s voice rose in a sing-song.
“How did it help me? Tell me how?” he asked.
“Some say she was skimming off the top of the circus sales. That she collected quite a share of the money. That would be pretty tempting to someone who had the brothers on his back.”
“I told you, I squared away with them already. Now, I’m done with this conversation,” he said, his words dropping like a barbell.
“You don’t have to be rude. I’m just repeating the gossip I heard.”
Her voice moved even farther away from me. I chanced a peek out. The two of them were standing just a foot a part, staring each other down.
Tiffany flipped her hair off her shoulder. “Like I said, it’s awfully convenient she died when she owed you money. Especially since all that money she supposedly skimmed has disappeared. And, oddly, so have your problems with the brothers.”
Vincent laughed. “Tiffany, you should know me better than that.” He took a step towards her with a maniacal smile.
Her bravado seemed to drain away along with the blood in her cheeks. Suddenly, she looked half-the-size, though she hadn’t moved at all.
“You know, you’re an awful brave girl to come waltzing in here like that, accusing me.” His finger traced along her collarbone and then up her neck.
Her eyes were as large as a fawn’s as she watched him.
Unexpectedly, he gripped her neck. She cried out loud. My hand went to my mouth, and I bit hard.
“Awfully brave.” He tipped her head as though examining her features. Then his gaze dropped down to her eyes. He smiled and patted her cheek. “You know if I had to take care of anything, I’d do it. But I had nothing to do with Claudette’s death.”
He stepped away. Tiffany took a shuddering breath in, and I did the same. My skin was cold as ice. I could only imagine how she felt. The way he stared her so dead in the eye….Her life must have passed before her. Why would she poke a bear like that?
Because she trusted in her good looks. She wore her lipstick and her corset like armor, believing that it would stop any man in his tracks from thinking or treating her in any way but to earn her favor.
It worked on some. But it didn’t work on those with nothing to lose.
“Okay, I believe you,” she said. She cleared her throat. I could see she was trying to get her dignity back.
Vincent didn’t seem to care. He sat back down and worked on the sword some more. Ching, ching, ching. She ran out, tottering on her high heels.
8
The air was muggy in the wardrobe, but I didn’t dare move. I was going to have to wait for Vincent to leave. It was quiet out there, so it sounded like it was going to be a while. Than I heard him stand and kick a chair. It rattled on thin legs across the floor. A stream of cuss words came out of his mouth that would make a soldier blush. The words grew quieter as he stormed out of the tent.
I waited another ten or so minutes before I climbed out. My legs were so stiff. I stretched a bit, feeling like a newborn colt trying to walk. Shaking them, I hurried out of the costume tent.
The sky was turning gray, and the scent in the air was pumpkins and straw, mixed with evening dew. I could see the main circus tent was already filling up for the main acts of the show. I still had to get dressed, so I hurried to my cabin. After slipping on my costume, I ran back to where Bill had Prancer ready. Since Claudette’s death, I felt like I was in auto-drive. I was so grateful for my horse. He never let me down.
When the show was over and everything cleaned up, I visited the stable for an apple and then climbed up into my hay cave. This apple was tart and made my mouth water. I stared out at the circus grounds. My thoughts tumbled with the events of the last couple days.
It wasn’t shocking that Claudette had people who didn’t like her. That could be said about anyone. But I never thought of a person like her with any real enemies. She’d seemed like she had it all. Beauty, a man of power, prestige.
It was interesting that the friends she had were so two-faced, giving sweet words in a cloud of covetousness.
That was one problem I’d never faced. No one had ever been jealous of me.
To live in a world where people said one thing and meant another, that was new to me. People had always said exactly what they thought of me straight to my face.
How would you ever know who your friends were, your true friends? Who could you really trust? It was a chilling thought.
I bit my apple and my mouth puckered. I decided that I’d rather have everyone as an enemy than find out a friend was really an enemy.
The kiss of Judas. Was that how she died?
Even Sally hadn’t seemed all that upset. I thought of Sally’s mysterious visitor that had come into our cabin in the night. He hadn’t spoken like he’d been all that fond of Claudette either.
But why did I even care? Claudette hadn’t been especially kind to me. She’d once told Tiffany, “You know what they do to chickens who are born deformed?”
Tiffany had shaken her head, her mouth crinkling like she was preparing for a joke.
Claudette had answered. “They leave them out in the cold to die.” She glanced at me and turned away but not before I heard her say, “And that’s one ugly chick.”
“Oh Claudette, you’re terrible!” Tiffany had exclaimed. They’d gone off together, giggling.
Friends. They’d been friends that day. Was that all a ruse?
I chewed my apple some more, enjoying the sensation of my teeth breaking the tough skin. I might not have much, but my teeth were good and strong. They’d never caused me a day of trouble. Which was more than I could say for Claudette. I’d seen her win
ce when she bit into a bite of chicken. And I’d never seen her eat a fruit-ice or corn-on-the-cob. Her teeth had always bothered her.
They say you don’t know who someone is behind closed doors. I was starting to wonder if those closed doors weren’t the figurative description for a person’s soul. Because Claudette’s reality of her life did not match up with the reality I was hearing about now.
So, again, why did I care who killed her?
Was it because I was a truth seeker who didn’t want some monster to get away with murder?
Or was it because I was scared of the monster himself. I wanted to find him before he found me.
I knew my heart, who I was behind closed doors. I wasn’t anyone noble. I was scared. I was self-protective. And I knew I wanted to find out that the monster was real and not some ghostly-ghoul, despite what I’d seen that night. I wanted the monster to be locked up where he couldn’t hurt anyone ever again.
The circus yard was quiet at this time of the night. The overhead lights that illuminated the public walk-way shut off, string by string. The Ringmaster was a stickler about money and kept an eye on even the smallest expenses. In the distance, I heard the barking of dogs. It must be feeding time.
I climbed out of my hiding place to go watch. My foot slipped as I reached for the bale below me and I slid hard. Straw scraped my face before I caught myself with a grunt.
Did anyone see? I glanced around. There was no one nearby.
I needed to be more careful. What if someone discovered my special place? I shivered at the thought and hurried the rest of the way to the ground.
The moment the sole of my shoe hit the dirt with a crunch, I sighed in relief. My hiding place was safe. I needed that refuge. My secret.
I walked to the animal tent, keeping to the edge of the path like I always did. There were several groups of men gathered, either outside tent openings or along one of the tent sides. Cigarette smoke floated in the air, along with other smoke. Bawdy laughter rang up around me.
“Hey, Miss Trixie,” one voice yelled. It was Stanley, one of the clowns and my friend.
“Hi, Stanley,” I called back.
“You did great on your show tonight,” he hollered.
“Thanks. You did, too.”
He laughed and walked closer. “Did you hear what happened tonight?”
I shook my head.
Stanley slapped his knee. “This is a good one. Tonight I played a clown wrestler, Strong Stamboni. This little boy ran out and asked if he could wrestle me. I said, ‘You think you can take me on?’ The boy said, ‘Sure! Now where are the chairs I get to throw!’ The boy wanted to get me into a roped wrestling ring!”
I giggled back.
“So where you off too? Want to join us for cards?” He stuck his cigarette in his mouth and the tip glowed red.
I shook my head. “Just going to the animal tent.”
“Ahh!” He raised his eyebrows, which was funny-looking to me now that they weren’t painted. “Gotta make sure those dogs are okay.” He leered at me.
My cheeks filled with liquid heat. I’m sure I looked like a tomato. I knew he was thinking of Jerry. Was I that obvious?
“See ya,” I said as an answer, which made him laugh harder.
The animal tent was to the left of the horse stables. It was here that the petting zoo animals and the dogs were kept. They even had a cage of peacocks that the Ringmaster occasionally let run lose on the circus grounds in hopes that the birds would strut around with tails in full display. It never failed to please the customers, who’d ahh and oohh and snap pictures. But then, it seemed every time, one of the kids would try to pluck a tail feather and the birds would run in stress. So it was a limited experience.
The dogs barked the moment I entered, but I wasn’t special. They barked at everything.
I ran my hand along the gate fronts and received welcomes of wet, lapping tongues. “Hi! Hey, good boy! Hi!”
A few of the stable hands slept here among the kennels, preferring to stay with the dogs rather than in their bunks. Jerry did as well. I was a little disappointed to see that he was already in bed for the night. His blanket was a mound of dogs who slept on top and around him. I paused for a second, liking his contented smile.
Then I walked past the kennels and down to the other end. I peeked over one of the feed boxes.
Larry was feeding the goats and sheep. The animals were bleating up a storm. Larry also worked with the lions. He had raised both of the cats from nearly birth. Larry’s relationship with the giant animals always fascinated me. The lions would pad over and act like kittens whenever Larry came in. I’d seen them actually stick their head’s under the trainer’s hand for a scratch.
One of the goats lightly butted Larry now. He smiled, one of those smiles where he thought no one was watching. “Protecting your young, are you? You old thing. You act tough, don’t you?” He patted the animal on the back.
I watched for a few more minutes before creeping out. As usual, no one knew I’d been there.
9
When I searched into my basket of clothes for my nightgown, my fingers tangled in the pink ribbon. I’d forgotten about it and wished desperately that I’d never grabbed it off the ground that night. Why had I done that?
Sighing, I wound it around my finger. I tried to remember Claudette’s dress. It had been too dark to see the color. Maybe it had been pink.
Or was it in her hair? Some girls like to wear bows in their hair, I supposed.
I looked at it now, thinking of how Claudette was gone and buried. It made me sad, like I needed to treasure this bit of ribbon to somehow honor her.
But what if it hadn’t come from her? I ran the silky edge against my finger like a delicate flower stem. I wasn’t sure I would ever know. I bit my lip and tucked it away again.
The next morning, I finally worked up the courage to involve Sally. I didn’t dare show her the ribbon yet, but maybe I could get some information about it.
I leaned out of my bunk and softly cleared my throat to get her attention. She was sitting at her table next to a big pile of clothes in a laundry basket.
She looked up as she folded a pair of socks. “You awake, Trixie? Sleep good?”
“Yeah, I sure did.” I did an exaggerated stretch and smiled.
“And what about those bed bugs?”
“Slapped them down with my shoe,” I answered stoutly.
She laughed. “Good. I thought I heard some thumping.” She flicked out a shirt and began folding.
“Sally, I have a funny question. Did Claudette like to wear ribbons in her hair?”
Sally stared at me in the mirror. Her eyes were rounder than usual. “Why are you asking?”
Her reaction caught me off guard. Did I say something wrong? I tried to cover my curiousness by acting casual. I glanced at my nails and pushed at one of the cuticles.
“Oh, no reason.” I shrugged. “Someone mentioned ribbons, and it made me wonder if it was something she did. I don’t remember her wearing them, but you’ve known her longer.”
“Who mentioned this?” She paused with a t-shirt in her lap.
Oh great. No matter what, it seemed like I was digging myself into a hole. Why was Sally so set off? She studied me like her eyes were truth detectors.
“Thelma,” I mumbled one of the acrobatic women’s names. I was miserable, knowing that I was lying.
“Thelma asked you if Claudette wore ribbons?” Sally’s face was white.
“No, she—uh—” I swallowed as I struggled to make up a story. “She mentioned that maybe I’d like to wear one. And she said other performers did. I thought she meant Claudette, so I wanted to ask you. I feel like you and Claudette were such good friends, you would know.” The words came out in a rush.
Sally relaxed and went back to folding her t-shirt. Each article of clothing was rolled into a tiny shape before being placed in a basket that served as a dresser. When the basket was filled she slid it under her bunk and pulled
out the next.
She snapped out a pair of pants and straightened the legs. “I don’t know that Claudette ever wore ribbons. I can agree with Thelma though. They might be an improvement for you. Although, you do have lovely hair.” She smiled, and it reached her eyes in the way that I knew it was real.
“You think so?” I asked and then blushed that I was fishing for compliments. I grabbed a hank of it and pulled it over my face.
“I do. It’s lovely and shiny and thick. Any girl would be jealous.”
My eyes popped open at her words.
“After all, look at mine.” She set the pants down on the table and untwisted the coiled braid from the top of her head.
It was thin. Thin like a rat’s tail. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she undid the braid. When the braid was out, she grabbed a brush and ran it through, using long strokes.
“One hundred times a day I do this. I use argan oil, coconut oil and eat almonds every day. My hair will never be like yours. You should be grateful.”
I sank back into my bed as tears stung my eyes. Grateful? Me? I’d never heard these words applied to me before. I smiled.
“But, a ribbon would never hurt,” she added. “And makeup. Have you ever thought to wear makeup?”
I shook my head, suddenly feeling shy again.
“Well, come down here. There’s no time like the present.” She pushed the laundry basket to one side and scooted over. Nodding at me, she patted the space on the bench next to her. “Let’s see what we’ve got to work with here.”
Slowly, I climbed down. Sally sat me down and began to apply different creams. I have to admit, much to my shame I flinched the first few times she touched my face. She acted like she didn’t notice and smiled. Her eyes softened like I’d seen them do when a little kid ran up to her for her autograph.
The smile went away as her thumb swept over my eyebrow. “These things are monsters,” she muttered. A moment later, the tweezers came out. She gripped the top of my head, her hand feeling like a vice. “Now stop squirming. This won’t hurt much.”
