Jamie recalled all this, done with his own hands. He remembered Gonko’s pipe work on the apprentice. Nausea flushed through him. He got up from the bed and collapsed. His sheets were drenched in blood; he’d slept in it all night.
Now that’s a wet dream, his mind babbled sickly. He threw up and retched on his knees, saliva running from his mouth in long strings.
And there was more. JJ had left him a message, painting it in blood with a perfectly calm hand. Up on the cupboard door:
its coming jamie
It was coming; yes, Jamie remembered now. JJ owed him one. Last night he’d just been tying up loose ends. The party wasn’t even started yet.
He forced his head to go blank.
I’m a killer.
But only for a moment.
Time passed and the shaking fits and vomiting stopped. Gonko poked his head in to announce a rehearsal at two. He took a look at the blood-soaked sheets, smiled, said ‘Hot date, JJ?’, then left.
Jamie stood up, the fourth time he’d attempted it this morning, but now there was enough strength in his legs. His head was spinning like he’d smoked too much pot. These thoughts kept repeating: I killed someone. But it wasn’t me in control. But I put the face paint on knowing it wouldn’t be me in control. I never asked to be here. Round and round they went, cutting to images of the kill and that single grunt as the gypsy died. In dizzy shambling steps he made his way to Winston’s room and knocked on the door. ‘What?’ came the muffled answer. Jamie went in. The blood was still on his hands.
‘What the hell happened?’ said Winston, sitting up and taking him by the shoulders.
He tried to say it, swallowed, then tried again: ‘I killed someone.’
Winston’s voice was sharp. ‘What? Who? Who did you kill?’
‘I don’t know. A gypsy. The one who lives — Jesus, lived — next to the freak show.’
Winston sat back and sighed. ‘You had me worried there.’
Jamie gaped at him; he felt like the old guy had sucker- punched him. ‘Didn’t you hear me? I killed someone.’
Winston regarded him gravely but his voice was gentle. ‘Jamie, there’s plenty worse going on here than killing one lone carnie. That’s nothing. The Pilos won’t even notice one dead carnie. And it wasn’t you, was it? It was JJ, am I right?’
‘Yes, but I was —’
‘No but. You are two different people. Understand? Completely different people. Now I want no more talk about that, you got me? Do you know why JJ did it? He have a reason, or was it his idea of a good time?’
‘Yeah, I think … remember yesterday, the freak show …’
‘I know damn it, don’t say it out loud.’
‘Sorry. JJ thought the gypsy might have seen me. A witness.’
‘Funny,’ Winston said after a moment. ‘If he did see you, JJ probably did us a favour.’ Winston ran a hand over his face. ‘Look, Jamie, I don’t know how much I can tell you. I got JJ under wraps, he’ll keep his mouth shut if he knows what’s good for him. But what I got to tell you … I don’t know. I want to help you, son. And I want your help too. But I don’t know if I can take the chance. It’s not just the Pilos I’m worried about. It’s the other clowns. Gonko likes being here. He’s the king here, you see? He does not want any mutiny from any of us. You know what he’d do if he thought we were tryin’ to pull the rug from under his feet?’
‘What am I meant to do, Winston? Last night I — JJ — killed someone. And he’s mad at me. He’s mad as hell. He’s going to get even and he’s going to make it hurt. He doesn’t know what to do to me yet. He can see everything I do. I can see everything he does. It’s like trying to play yourself in a game of chess.’ Jamie wiped sweat from his brow then pulled his bloody hand away in disgust. Winston reached for a rag and handed it to him. ‘Last night wasn’t even the square up,’ said Jamie. ‘He’s going to get me, Winston. He’s serious.’
‘You sure about that?’ said Winston. ‘Seems strange he’d do anything to really hurt you. You’n him are renting the same space. Worst he could do is scare you or make you feel bad.’
‘But he’s insane. He’s getting more insane every day. Last night, you saw how he was when we burned down that house. He was crazy. He felt like he was … I don’t know, possessed by a demon. And he was glad about it, on top of the world. Killing a baby … Jesus, Winston, what did we do last night?’
Winston stood and went to his mouse cage as though he didn’t want his face seen. He broke off a small stick of biscuit and poked it between the bars. There was a catch in his voice when he spoke. ‘We did what we were told by our bosses. And they do what their bosses tell ’em. No one cares. Everyone does their job, takes their powder … Oh, the hell with it, Jamie! I want you to come with me tonight. Try and get through the day if you can, without the face paint. It’ll be rough and you might get hurt, but try it. Tonight I’ll come get you when it’s time. Got something important to show you.’
Winston went to the door, got down on his knees and held his face to the crack between the door and the floor. Satisfied no one was out there, he spoke in a voice barely audible and refused to look at Jamie, as though he had grave reservations about speaking at all. ‘There’s more of us,’ he said. ‘We’ve waited for a long time to do something about the show, but waited long enough. You come meet ’em. Tonight, only if you stay off the paint, just for today. You’ll see what freedom means … Who freedom is.’
Jamie found he was speechless for a moment or two; the thought of organised resistance thrilled him as much as it scared him. ‘One more thing,’ said Winston, now looking him in the eye, ‘really important you keep the crystal ball secret.’
Jamie raised his eyebrows. ‘How did you …’
‘Saw it a few days ago in your room. Whatever you do, don’t return it to the Pilos or let anyone know you got it. Do you think JJ would hand it in?’
‘Not a chance. He likes it too much, it’s his favourite toy.’
Winston still looked troubled. ‘All right,’ he said, ‘only if you’re certain.’
Chapter 18
Freedom Meet
JAMIE was still hiding out in his room, waiting for the moment to make an appearance in the parlour. Tensions seemed high out there at the moment — Doopy and Rufshod could still be heard squabbling over their card game. It had been going on all morning; at some stage Rufshod had gotten on Goshy’s bad side and there’d been an outbreak of high-pitched squawking, followed by Rufshod’s enraged screams and Doopy’s whiny pleas for Gonko to come save little Gosh-Gosh. Eventually Jamie went out there, played cards with the others, kept his mouth shut. The clowns paid him no special attention. Rehearsal came and went, and though it racked every nerve he had, he got through it. Goshy was already riled up, thanks to Rufshod, and the rolling pin rebounded at Jamie with murderous speed; he’d stood as far back for the throws as Gonko had let him. Gonko told Jamie that during a show he was to let the pin collide with his face or, if he could arrange it, his crotch. When they finished up Goshy followed Jamie at close range as he walked off the gym mat; Jamie screamed. Doopy rushed over to restrain his brother, saying something that chilled Jamie’s blood: ‘No, not yet Goshy, not yet!’
Jamie fled to his room and sat there taking deep breaths. Not yet? What the hell was that supposed to mean? He hoped it was just the clowns sensing a ‘straight’ in their midst — they seemed to have a knack for that. Maybe JJ would defend them both if the need arose. It was strange that they were comrades in arms as much as enemies. All he could do for now was try to get by in five-minute chunks … Still ticking? Fine, on to the next five, try not to count how many hours still remained in the day. Sweet Jesus, it was going to be a long day.
At around six Gonko called the clowns into the parlour. He was laughing his head off. They took their places at the card table. ‘You guys gotta hear this,’ said Gonko, wiping his eye as if a tear of mirth had sprung there, though his face was dry as sandpaper. ‘First off, no odd jobs tonig
ht. George is too mad.’
‘What happened, Gonko?’ said Doopy. ‘Goshy wants to know, you just gotta tell him, Gonko, you just gotta!’
‘Never seen George so steamed up,’ said Gonko. ‘He actually took a swing at me, can you believe that? Goddamn! Short people. What can you do?’
‘What’s his problem?’ said Winston. His voice was casual, but Jamie had the impression that none of Winston’s remarks were casual, and that he was taking careful note of all he heard.
‘Kurt got his own back,’ Gonko said gleefully. ‘He took a shot at George, but the way he did it … Ah, fantastic. He rigged up George’s bed with electric wires, hooked up to a generator he put on the roof of George’s trailer. At the flick of a switch, a thousand volts go through George’s bed. He waits for George to go to sleep, then knocks out a support block from under his trailer, so the whole thing gives a lurch.
George gets out of bed, and he thinks he’s pissed off now, but he needs about twenty seconds more to know what pissed off is. He opens his door, screams at whoever’s out there, then goes back to his bed ready to snooze. This is the thing — he’s been in bed two hours, and Kurt could’ve flicked the switch any time. But the beauty part is, he let George live. He waits till George gets near the bed, then pulls the switch: BOOM! Fucking bed lights up. George runs screaming into the night, and when he’s got time to think it over, realises Kurt was playing with him. Could’ve knocked him off with the touch of a button, but he let him live, just to fuck with him!’
Rufshod fell off his chair, seized up with laughter.
Gonko said, ‘Kurt even went to the trouble of leaving a Bible open on George’s desk, with Thou shalt not kill highlighted. Ah, sibling rivalry.’
‘What’s sibling ribaldry, Gonko? Goshy wants to know, and you just gotta —’
‘What’s on tonight, then, Gonks?’ said Winston.
‘Tonight we’re birthday shopping for Kurt, that’s what. Who wants in?’
‘Me,’ said Rufshod.
‘No one else? Fine. Two of us should be plenty.’
‘What’re you getting him?’ said Winston.
‘You’ll see,’ said Gonko, smiling. ‘This might just get us our act back, boys. Kurt is just gonna love us to death.’
Gonko and Rufshod departed on their private mission soon after. Gonko was in high spirits now that he’d settled on a gift idea, and there was something ominous about that. Jamie just hoped none of his friends or relatives crossed the clown leader’s path out there.
The other clowns went about their business. Goshy was having a romantic night in with the missus-to-be. Doopy was playing solitaire, cheating, and telling anyone who walked past he wasn’t cheating, nuh-uh, no way, honest, just ask Goshy. Around nine the parlour was quiet. Winston came in and motioned for Jamie to follow. The pair of them headed through the dark paths towards Sideshow Alley, and Jamie had the distinct feeling of eyes, peering from dark places and missing nothing. Shalice came up the path towards them and Winston grabbed Jamie by the shoulder, dragging him behind a small caravan and pulling him to the ground. They waited for her to pass. She bristled as she came level with them, glanced back over her shoulder, tightened her hood and was soon gone. ‘You want to be careful of her,’ Winston whispered. ‘She’s probably more dangerous than any other performer.’
‘More than Gonko?’ said Jamie.
‘Oh yes. She’s got more tricks up her sleeve than him. A lot more.’
Winston led him through another of Sideshow Alley’s seemingly endless nooks. Around them were the night-time sounds of gypsy life, conversations in Spanish, strange music, old women cackling like crones and the slightly noxious smell of food cooking. They came to a place where the tall wooden perimeter fence appeared at the end of a dead-end lane, behind a broken wagon. Winston pressed his hands against the fence, pushing on it with all his weight, his shoulders trembling with effort. With a small creak the plank moved, falling back but not hitting the ground, caught instead by a loop of rope rigged on the other side. ‘Took us a long time to find a way through the fence,’ Winston said, panting slightly. ‘Thing was stuck tighter’n all hell.’ He glanced behind them up the alley, frowned, then climbed through the gap in the fence, sucking in his belly to make himself fit. Once on the other side he motioned Jamie to follow. ‘Watch your step,’ said Winston, ‘and I mean really watch it.’
Before destruction of the freak show, when Jamie held his ear to the fence he’d heard the faint hiss of the ocean. The sound was magnified now, but all he could see through the fence was night, a giant black canvas without a cloud or star visible. When he stepped through the gap, underfoot was only a thin shelf of ground hugging the fence, and beyond that … oblivion. It was as though the showgrounds were on a small island floating in its own dark cellar of the universe — only where were the stars? Before he’d stepped through the fence, there had been a moon in the sky. Out here the sightless void above and at his feet was absolute beyond the narrow shelf of turf. Jamie’s knees buckled at the sight. Winston gripped his shoulder hard, pinching it and calling his name sharply. The pain brought him back, but by God he’d come close to fainting and falling off the edge. Down, forever, dropping until he starved. ‘Hurry up and get used to it,’ Winston said. ‘I’ve got to fix the fence. Never know who might wander past.’
‘Okay,’ Jamie said, swallowing. ‘I’m okay.’
‘Take my hand,’ Winston said after shoving the board back in place with his shoulder. ‘Path gets thicker a little further around.’ They had about two feet of walking room. Jamie closed his eyes and kept his body against the wood, scraping him as he went. Though it didn’t feel like it, it must have been only a minute before Winston said, ‘Okay, going’s easier now.’
The shelf jutted out twenty feet or so; bare, dusty sand- coloured turf. ‘Where is this place?’ said Jamie.
‘No need to whisper,’ said Winston. ‘They can’t hear us. Or see us, or know about us. That’s why we come out here. As for where we are — right next to hell. In a little pocket of the world reserved just for the show. Leased, I guess you’d say. Kurt’s bosses arranged this strange real estate. He probably forgets he has bosses, but he does. His daddy made lots of friends. Masters, of course, is the truth of it. As for what they are, I do not rightly know.’
Jamie felt dizzy; with an ocean of black infinity ten paces away, this talk was unnerving. They walked abreast as they circled the outer side of the perimeter fence. ‘Scary, first time out here,’ said Winston. ‘There just ain’t another place where we can all meet up and be sure we ain’t heard. Others should be out here by now.’
Sure enough they could soon hear voices in conversation just ahead. They rounded a bend in the fence where the ground stretched out to a thicker platform the size of a basketball court. The side of the cliff, a slab of amber rock, stretched down beyond sight. There were people gathered on the platform, and Jamie recognised many of them. He saw Randolph of the acrobats; Fishboy of the freaks, and the rest of the freak show minus only Nugget; Stu the lion tamer; a handful of dwarfs; a dozen dirty-faced gypsies, including the one who operated the ‘test your strength’ bell. When he saw Jamie coming his face curdled into a look of menace and exasperation.
That look was mirrored on every other face, too, and Jamie understood his invitation tonight had come as a surprise to most. The group fell silent and watched the clowns approach.
‘Well, I think some of you know Jamie,’ said Winston. ‘And I think all of you know JJ.’
‘How’s it going?’ Jamie mumbled to the cold silence.
‘Jamie, this is the freedom movement,’ said Winston.
Randolph broke the silence. ‘Winston, what were you thinking? This one cannot be trusted. He is clown, through and through.’
‘He’s Gonko, only dumber and more of a coward,’ said one of the carnies. Jamie recognised him as one JJ had often singled out for special attention in Sideshow Alley.
‘I got reason to trust him,’ said Wi
nston. ‘You can trust Jamie. Maybe not when he puts the face paint on. But even then, I don’t expect trouble from JJ either.’
‘He’s right,’ said Fishboy, though there was still dislike on his face, and on Fishboy’s face dislike was a particularly unpleasant thing. ‘JJ won’t be telling. We have evidence it was JJ who attacked the freak show. And hung the freedom banner.’
‘What evidence?’ Randolph demanded.
Winston reached into his pocket and took out the photograph. In it Jamie stood on the ladder, tying an end of the banner to the rafters. Randolph took a close look with the help of a lit match then passed it around. The group seemed to relax, just a notch. ‘Ah, tha’ss more like it,’ said Randolph. ‘I trust there’s more copies of this picture?’
‘There are,’ said Winston. ‘Safely hidden. A few others here know about it too, in case JJ gets any ideas about bumping me off. Now, let’s welcome Jamie aboard. God knows an extra pair of hands won’t go astray. And who knows, even JJ may come in useful. He’s the one who took the crystal ball.’
‘You’d better keep it hidden,’ Randolph said to Jamie. ‘If they get it back …’
‘It’s over, yup,’ said Winston, looking pointedly at Jamie. ‘Never know when the fortune-teller will be looking over our shoulders. She’s dangerous enough without the ball. Bloody miracle the Pilos haven’t done anything much to get it back. If we’d known they’d sit on their hands, we would have taken it a long time ago.’
The Pilo Family Circus Page 21
