Sideshow

by Amy Stilgenbauer

  “I wanted to do it, but he sounds like the kind of guy who would get all chivalric about fighting a girl,” Suprema said.

  Abby was about to contradict this by saying that he’d fought a girl before, but she shook her head. “I don’t know that it would help.”

  Suprema slipped her arm around Abby’s waist and whispered, “Let me try to protect you.”

  “No,” Abby whispered in return. She didn’t like it. There were too many things that could go wrong. “This is my battle.”

  “Abby …”

  Abby looked at Suprema and tried to say with her eyes what she couldn’t say with her voice: “I love you. I’ve seen him hurt too many people. I can’t let him hurt you.” Suprema looked back at her. Though her eyes seemed to say she understood, there also didn’t seem to be any moving her. “I need to think about it,” she said.

  “From what Suprema told me, we don’t know how much time we have,” Gregor began.

  “Time for what?” Della asked, coming up to the group. Natale’s coat was draped around her shoulders, and their hands were interlaced. Natale’s eyes were trained on Della. He didn’t even notice Gregor. They looked like many a couple Abby had seen at the diner, and despite everything it made her smile.

  “Did you find the baby?” Annette asked, very businesslike.

  Della’s eyes flew open. “You told them?!”

  “No,” Natale said. “What are you talking about, Annette?”

  “Joseph and I found your letter.”

  “And you read it?”

  “Yes.” Her lack of shame sent a giggle through the sideshow performers.

  “It’s not funny,” Della protested.

  Abby shook her head. She would let Natale deal with Annette and Joseph’s transgressions. “Is that what had you so… upset?” she asked of Della.

  Della smiled. “I had a lot of thinking to do about what I wanted, that’s all. I had expected our conversation to go much differently, and well…”

  “I don’t mind if she keeps up the aerial act,” Natale said, lifting Della’s hand to his lips. “Maybe with some precautions—”

  “No triples,” Della said with a roll of her eyes.

  “This calls for a celebration, yes?” Ruth said. Della and Natale nodded, beaming at each other, and Abby was glad for the shift in attention, away from her.

  “Is the haunted train a celebration?” Annette asked.

  “I don’t know if we should reward her,” Natale began.

  “Pleeeaase?”

  “Oh, come on, Natale,” Abby said, glancing at Suprema with a sly smile. She wouldn’t mind going on the ride with her. Suprema’s nose was wrinkled, and she did not look quite as pleased to have the subject changed as Abby was, but after a moment she nodded indulgently.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  THE GROUP SET OFF AS one. Abby felt a strange sensation grip her. A small voice at the back of her mind was telling her to take it all in, because she might not have another chance. She examined the caravan around her. Just two months ago, she didn’t know any of these people. Now, she recognized them. She knew that the woman unfurling the flags that read “French Fries!” and “Funnel Cakes!” was named Mimi, and she had three children to support. It was strange how much had changed.

  They paced through the midway, past the games and rides and vendors, until they reached the haunted train. The trailer had been uncovered, and the cars had been detached. They sat on the grass in front. A sign with a painted ghost also lay in the dirt nearby. Abby felt a gnawing deep in her stomach. “Back again?” Jimmy teased.

  “What’s going on, Jimmy?” Ruth asked, reaching out toward him with genuine concern. “Are you in some sort of trouble?”

  “I had a long night.”

  “Why’s it torn down?” Annette asked in a plaintive voice, as though someone had just told her there was no such thing as unicorns.

  Abby felt ill when she looked at Jimmy. He looked the same as ever, top hat and all, but for the first time, she didn’t see the resemblance to Sal or Roman. She saw Frank. “No. Not you. Anyone but you.” The whole group looked at Abby. Most of them looked confused, but on the faces of Suprema and Della, understanding dawned.

  Behind her, a familiar voice spoke. “Hey, Abby.”

  She froze. She knew that voice, and had never wanted to hear that voice again. She didn’t turn to look at him. She didn’t have to. She knew exactly what he looked like, standing there in the middle of the midway. He would look out of place: too-nice slacks, paired with a too-new leather jacket and hat, like someone trying too hard to cut an imposing figure. His brown hair would be swept into a ducktail in his best effort to look like James Dean, but it would only serve to further the impression that he was trying too hard. His shoes would be freshly polished, but now a little scuffed thanks to the dusty midway. He wouldn’t be happy with that. And if he wasn’t flanked by a few friends or flunkies, they would be nearby.

  “Go away, Frank,” she said, still not turning.

  “You all ready to go?”

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Natale snarled. Della rested her arm on his. He didn’t move any closer to Frank, but still clenched his fist.

  “Abby invited me.”

  “I most certainly did not.”

  “We know, Abby,” Suprema whispered.

  Frank grinned like a comic book villain. “Look who’s here! We’ve got to get you to safety, lickety split, Abs. That crazy strongwoman and her buddy Gregory could snap you in half. You need someone like me to protect you.”

  “You know that was stupid the first time you said it, right?” Abby said with a roll of her eyes.

  Frank stared; his eyes bored into her. “You’re really going to talk to me like that? That is, certainly, not an appropriate tone of voice for my wife to take with me.”

  “I’m not your wife. You are delusional.”

  “These carnies have ruined you. What happened to your manners?”

  Abby flinched. Every nerve in her body was firing, fast and furious. Frank’s tone was too familiar. She knew exactly what was about to happen and squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for it.

  It never came. When she opened her eyes, Frank had stumbled to the ground and was rubbing at his eye. “I thought you were supposed to fight by the rules,” he growled.

  “Like you did?” Suprema asked, a confident smirk dancing across her face. She wrapped her arm around Abby’s waist, and Abby felt her nerves relax one by one. She was safe and loved.

  “This is pointless; we don’t have to fight.” He stood again, still holding his hand over his eye.

  “Yeah, Suprema, this doesn’t need to involve us,” Jimmy added, stepping out from his ticket booth and entering the fray. “I mean, unless you want your uncle branded a communist.”

  “Jimmy …” There was a warning note in her voice that could not be ignored. He was, as far as Suprema was concerned, one of them; she didn’t want to have to fight him, but Abby could tell that she would if she had to.

  Abby shook her head. “Suprema, don’t,” she said quietly. “There’s a way to resolve this without anyone getting hurt.” She didn’t want a fight, not in front of her siblings.

  Suprema sighed, sounding disappointed but resigned. “I’m sure I can handle the two of them.” Abby had no doubt that she could. They stood, not moving, staring her down, and Abby could see the fear in Jimmy’s eyes, despite his clear effort to hide it. He didn’t want to have to fight either.

  “And besides, you’re outnumbered!” Natale called.

  “Yeah!” Leon added.

  “Oh yes, I can see that,” Frank mused. “But you either back down or my insurance takes care of it.”

  “I don’t care about your insurance or whatever you’re up to,” Suprema said, cutting him off. She looked at Abby; her face was soft, reassuring, full of love and faith. It made Abby feel strong. “He’s not coming anywhere near you. Not ever again.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

&nbs
p; SHOUTS OF “HEY, RUBE!” ECHOED throughout the carnival. Every soul who had ever had their monthly pay come from Mr. or Mrs. McClure came running when they heard the call. Concessions and games closed. Rides stopped. The cavalry was on the way.

  Frank was splayed on his back, struggling to get to his feet and screaming obscenities. Suprema stood over him with a fierce expression. “Don’t you go anywhere near her.”

  “I’ll do what I damn well please,” Frank shouted, finally scrambling to his feet. As he did so, Jimmy ducked behind Suprema and grabbed Abby by the arm. She tried hard to pull away, but did not have the strength.

  “Let her go,” Suprema growled.

  “Why would she want you? I mean, look at you!” Frank shouted, moving toward Suprema. He smirked, looking her over as if trying to appraise an antique. “You’re some kind of mutant. Were you built in some Russian lab, like Frankenstein?”

  “Frank, shut the hell up!” Abby screamed, trying hard to step on Jimmy’s feet.

  Frank lunged forward to grab Suprema by the arms, and that is when chaos erupted. The carnival workers moved forward to intervene. There were easily enough of them to overpower the two men. Frank smirked broadly. His confidence made Abby sick. She assumed it was only because he still somehow believed that he could take on the entire carnival. Then, he whistled. Was this the “insurance plan” Frank was rambling on about? A large group of people she had never seen before moved forward. Whether they were locals or hired thugs, Abby could not say. But before she knew what was happening, they were in the fray, and an all-out brawl had ensued.

  “Suprema!” Abby called out, still trying to pull away from Jimmy. But he held tight, trying to make his way through the crowd and away from the fight.

  “Abby! Where are you?” Della shouted from somewhere in the fray.

  Abby swung her free arm as hard as she could, hitting Jimmy in the stomach. He shoved her away from him and that was all she needed. She ducked away, escaping into the crowd and disappearing.

  “Abby!” a voice called from somewhere on the edge of the chaos. Then another. Abby moved toward the voices and saw that it was Ruth and Vivian. They had gathered Della and the younger Amaros. Leon kept trying to wrench away from Ruth, who was holding him back with a surprising show of strength.

  “This way!” Vivian hissed, pressing her hand into the small of Abby’s back and hurrying her along.

  “What about Suprema? Natale?” Abby asked, frantically, looking back at the fight. The groups of carnies and locals all seemed to have blended into one mass. Abby couldn’t see Suprema or Frank or Natale or Constance or anyone that she knew. “Where is she?”

  “She’ll be fine. She can handle herself,” Vivian said snappishly. They hurried through the caravan which, for the first time since Abby had arrived, appeared to be completely deserted. Abby didn’t want to think about what that meant.

  “Come on,” Vivian urged.

  They all made their way to the Lambrinos’s trailer, outside of which a frightened looking Phebe waited with Alejo, who was holding a vicious-looking knife.

  “Are you all right?” Ruth asked. Her eyes were wild, full of a barely concealed panic as she rushed forward and clung to Phebe.

  “I don’t know anything,” Vivian said, gently touching the top of Phebe’s head. “Let’s just all get inside.”

  Alejo nodded, not saying a word. His eyes were directed toward the fight, where he knew as well as anyone that his daughter was in the fray.

  “I can do more than blow smoke rings, Miss Amaro. No one’s coming anywhere near you.”

  “It’s not me I’m worried about,” Abby whispered. Ruth squeezed her hand before they slipped inside.

  Abby could hear her heart pounding in her ears. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered to Ruth, to herself, to no one in particular.

  Ruth nodded. She stroked Phebe’s hair, perhaps to comfort herself as much as Phebe. “We protect our own,” she said. “No matter what anyone says. We. Protect. Our. Own.” There was a fierceness in her voice, and Abby knew that even though she was scared, she truly believed what she was saying. Over and over, the people of the carnival had reminded her that she was a part of their world. She finally, in that instant, believed it.

  “That’s what I should be doing,” Abby said, glancing toward the window.

  Annette was crying, which had distracted Leon enough to keep him from rushing to the fight. He was holding her so close, it broke Abby’s heart. She remembered him holding baby Annette at their mother’s funeral and hoped that they wouldn’t have to experience another for a long time.

  Della wasn’t speaking. She stared numbly at the wall, holding both Carla’s and Joseph’s hands. Neither of them had let go, but from the way that they both kept nervously looking at her face, she was definitely crushing their fingers.

  “Help me make cocoa. It’ll keep your mind busy,” Ruth said, finally letting go of Phebe.

  “It’s not that. I mean, sure, I’d fight if I could, but it’s not that…”

  Ruth watched her. Her eyes held none of Constance’s ever-present patience, but it was clear that she was trying to replicate the expression for Abby’s sake.

  “I’m not one of you, Ruth. I’m just a girl who went on an adventure, and now it’s time to go home before anyone gets hurt or goes to jail.”

  “With all due respect, that is absolutely absurd.” All attempts at faked patience had vanished from Ruth’s eyes. “I didn’t think I fit in here at first either,” she began. “Carnies, they’re distrustful of outsiders. It comes with the trade. Abby, you can deny it all you want, but you’re part of the troupe now. And this troupe has your back. Do you think that many people would have come to your aid otherwise?”

  “I still don’t—” She stopped speaking when Phebe climbed into her lap.

  “I’d have your back if I were allowed,” she said in a calm and determined voice.

  Abby had to grin. “Well, I know which of your madres you get that tone of voice from.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that,” Ruth began, but before she could finish, they heard a loud thwack not far from the trailer.

  “Don’t come any closer,” Alejo said just outside the door. “That was on purpose.”

  Abby and Ruth both looked at each other with wide eyes and nodded. Without exchanging words, Abby gave Phebe to Ruth and slipped toward the door.

  “I just want to talk to Abby,” Frank said, arms outstretched, looking pleadingly at Alejo. His leather jacket was torn, his hair was disheveled, and a small bruise under his eye was beginning to darken.

  “How did he get away?” Abby hissed. “I swear, if he hurt her, or anyone else for that matter—”

  “Abby!” he called out, catching sight of her.

  “Stay behind me,” Alejo cautioned.

  “No.” Abby moved around Alejo and took a few steps toward Frank. “Why are you doing this? Is—am I … really worth all this?”

  “Abby …” Frank tone was apologetic. She’d heard it before. He always knew when he’d gone too far, but this time, this time was much, much too far. There was no coming back from it.

  “No, Frank. This is too much, and I think you know it too.”

  He stared at her, not speaking or even blinking. She knew that he was still capable of causing plenty of harm to the people she loved and cared about. He could hurt her family. He could spread rumors about Suprema and Boleslaw. He could hurt or even kill her. She knew all of that, but she didn’t know how else to end it. She wasn’t a fighter. She didn’t have strength behind her fist. She couldn’t throw knives or pass her hand through fire without feeling the pain. This last-ditch effort was the best she had, and the only thing she knew how to do.

  “I’m staying with the carnival, Frank. This is what I need to do for me to be happy, and I love Suprema … and I don’t love you.”

  She saw fury flash in Frank’s eyes, but then, miraculously, she saw it waver and fade into doubt. “But—”

  Countl
ess moments flashed before her. The dance, when he had pushed her for dancing with another boy. The lakeshore, when he tried to explain that he was going to mess around with other girls, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be his girlfriend because who else would want her, after all? The diner, when he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Clear, now, she shook her head. “No, Frank. No. For once in your life, for once in our entire time knowing one another, can you respect my decision?”

  Frank was quiet, quieter than Abby had ever seen him. He seemed to be completely out of witty, proud retorts and sarcastic comments. He stared hard for a long time, but Abby did not look away. She met his eyes, stared into their hazel fog, and he stared back into hers. They would never understand one another, but she tried. With her eyes, she tried to say exactly what she had said with words. That she loved Suprema. That she needed to stay. In that instant, Frank’s eyes changed. She could have sworn she saw the shift take place, and that she witnessed the second he let go.

  He nodded. “I maintain that you’ve made a mistake, but, you know what, you’re right. Plenty of fish in the sea. Plenty of better fish than you.”

  He turned and was gone. Abby couldn’t find it in her heart to be offended.

  ~July, 1956~

  ABBY LOOKS OUT ACROSS THE lake and tries to pretend that it’s the ocean. The lake itself is vast, and it doesn’t take much imagination to achieve her goal. She focuses hard on the waves lapping at the horizon. If she didn’t know better, she’d say that the water went on forever.

  “Look at me! I’m a mermaid!” Carla shouts, splashing both legs in the water at the same time.

  “Me too!” Annette cries, doing the same.