The Kissing Booth Girl and Other Stories

by A. C. Wise

  Akers seemed to have forgotten about her for the moment. If she could keep avoiding him, she could probably avoid any extra work as well. As long as she didn’t let her regular workload slip. She wrapped the gears and copper in a spare bit of canvas, and tucked the bundle in the corner behind a collection of unused tent poles. As Beni pulled the door shut behind her, she nearly collided with Mr. Akers.

  “Sh—” She almost swore, but Beni managed to clamp down on the word at the last second.

  “Abeni.” Mr. Akers’s voice was honey, taking pleasure in drawing out her full name. “Working late?”

  “Just tidying up.” Beni bit the inside of her cheek hard, and added, “sir,” remembering to look down as she said it, even though it made her skin crawl.

  Mr. Akers snorted. When it seemed he wasn’t going to say anything else, Beni risked looking up.

  “Enjoy your night, sir.” Beni’s attempt at sincerity slid around in her mouth, and she cursed herself inwardly, hoping Akers didn’t hear the edge in her tone.

  Akers let her get two steps before he spoke again, his voice casual.

  “Abeni? Mr. Seeds was having some trouble with the Gyro Wheel earlier.” Akers’ eyes held an unpleasant light. “Stop by and see if you can give him a hand before attending to your other duties.”

  “Yes, sir.” Beni kept her head down, her hands stiff and straight at her side. Her fingers wanted to curl into fists. Akers continued to stare at her; Beni could feel herself being weighed in his gaze and she forced herself to look up and meet his eyes.

  “Is there anything else, sir?” This time she didn’t bother to keep the edge out of her voice, biting off her words.

  Mr. Akers caught her arm, his grip reminding her again of his performing days. He leaned close, letting Beni smell the night’s first drink on his breath.

  “You’d do well to remember, girl, if I catch you doing anything wrong, it’s not just on your head, it’s on Lotts’s, too. Understand?”

  “Yes, sir.” This time Beni didn’t have to fake looking down. Genuine panic flooded her, and her throat hurt when she swallowed.

  Akers released her, stalking away. Beni waited until she couldn’t hear his footsteps anymore before looking up. When she was sure there was no chance he would hear her, she said, “Asshole.”

  The stars were just coming to full above the Last Steam Circus and Wondrous Mechanical Traveling Show. Beni emerged from her trailer, carrying the prototype arm wrapped in canvas. It had taken her twice as long to assemble as she’d hoped. Akers kept finding extra tasks that needed her attention right away, even though most of them turned out to be like him ordering her to go see Jimmie Seeds.

  “The Gyro Wheel?” Jimmie had tilted his straw boater at an angle so he could scratch his hair. “It’s working perfectly. Don’t know why Akers would tell you otherwise.”

  Beni had seethed. Akers wanted her to waste her time. It didn’t make a bit of difference that he knew nothing about the arm, or what he was keeping her from doing with her free time. All that mattered to him was proving he could make her dance like a puppet, and there was nothing Beni could do about it.

  Now the arm was complete, but she could barely remember the last time she’d slept. Between building the arm, her regular work, and Mr. Akers’ extra tasks, she was exhausted.

  Glancing over her shoulder to make sure the way was clear, Beni hurried between darkened trailers, making for the bright midway. Gertie, now fully repaired thanks to Beni and the rest of the crew, trumpeted a brass horn blare. With a hiss of steam, she rose on sturdy hind legs, waving her articulated trunk to thunderous applause.

  Despite herself, Beni grinned. When she was in good working order, Gertie really was a marvel. Most people only saw the bright fittings and the faux-gems worked into Gertie’s hide, giving the illusion she was covered in rubies, sapphires, and pearls. Beni saw beneath all that to the gears. She’d never seen a real live elephant, but she couldn’t imagine any flesh and blood creature more wonderful than Gertie.

  Caught up in the Menagerie’s performance, Beni didn’t see Akers until he was right in front of her. The carnival owner melted out of the shadows, blocking her path, and Beni’s stomach dropped.

  “Abeni.” Colored glass lanterns painted the Akers red and gold. “I believe you have something that belongs to me.”

  Akers pointed to the canvas-wrapped bundle, and Beni tightened her grip. “Sir?”

  “I don’t think I have to tell you, Abeni, all materials in the workshop, scrap or otherwise, are the property of the Steam Circus. Which means they are my property.”

  Beni’s mouth went dry. She hugged the bundle closer, the arm’s metal rods digging into her chest through the canvas. She wouldn’t give it up. Let Akers have her arrested. Akers’ next words struck her like a physical blow.

  “I wonder what your mentor will have to say about this, hmm? I imagine he’ll be disappointed to learn he staked his reputation, and his future with the Steam Circus, on a petty thief.”

  “Lotts has nothing to do with this!” Beni took a step toward Akers before she realized what she was doing. A hand caught her shoulder, pulling her back. Startled, Beni almost dropped the mechanical arm.

  “Lotts is perfectly capable of speaking for himself, thank you very much, and he is not disappointed in the least.”

  Beni heard the faint catch in Lotts’s breath, the evidence of exhaustion, but his shoulders were squared back and his gaze firm.

  “Beni has been working on a special project for me. If you’d care to check the books, I think you’ll find all the supplies paid for in full.”

  The hand resting on her shoulder betrayed a faint tremor, but Lotts’s expression didn’t waver. When he trained his blue eyes on Akers, the Steam Circus’s owner flinched.

  Akers opened his mouth, and shut it again, the edges curving in a frown. Beni saw him search for words, and find none. He turned on his heel and strode away.

  She let out a breath she hadn’t been aware of holding. The tremor was worse now, and she caught Lotts’s hand, helping him to a nearby bench. He so rarely left his trailer these days. Had he come looking for her?

  “Just felt like taking in the sights.” There was a faint wheeze in Lotts’s voice, even as he grinned. Beni gaped at him. Could he read her mind now, too? Maybe it was like Mattie said, the Steam Circus was magic, and maybe Lotts was a little bit magic, too.

  “I thought he was going to fire you,” Beni said.

  Lotts waved a hand. “He needs me, and he knows it. This whole damn place would fall apart without me. Besides, I knew him back when he was a young pup, and that includes an awareness of certain facts, deeds, and indiscretions he’d rather I didn’t know, and certainly would rather I didn’t share.”

  Beni’s eyes widened again.

  “A story for another day.” The blue of Lotts’s eyes was bright with mischief now.

  “I haven’t even thanked you,” Beni said, suddenly remembering herself.

  Lotts waved her off. “You’ll pay me back one day, Beni-girl.” A smile quirked the corner of his mouth. “Who do you think will be supporting me in my old age?”

  Beni grinned relief. The copper rods of her mechanical arm poked her in the chest through the canvas, and she realized just how hard she was hugging the bundle.

  “Well, let’s see it.” Lotts gestured.

  Dutifully, Beni unwrapped the arm; it gleamed, catching glints of sapphire, emerald, ruby, and amber from the midway lights. Lotts’s fingers shook as they traced the air above the copper, leather, and wire, almost but not quite touching.

  Lotts let his hand fall back to his lap, where the shaking stilled.

  “Just like your design.” A wistful smile tugged at the corner of Lotts’s mouth, one touched with sadness that Beni couldn’t fathom. “It’s good work, Beni-girl.”

  “Good enough to impress the Kissing Booth Girl?”

  “Good enough to win you your heart’s desire without the luck of a fallen star, I wo
uld think.”

  “Oh.” Beni didn’t know what else to say.

  Sudden fear gripped her, leaving her skin clammy and cold. She wanted to believe Lotts, but what if he was wrong? She tucked the cloth around the arm, and Lotts reached out to rest his hand on the back of hers. His skin was hot, his hand light, as though filled with hollow bones.

  “Just something to think about, Beni-girl.”

  Beni hugged the arm to her chest again. “I promise.” The words came out husked, and Beni was surprised to find tears prickling the back of her eyes. Half ashamed, and half panicked, Beni turned and fled down the midway.

  It wasn’t until she’d almost reached the far end, where Celeste’s booth stood, that she stopped. A line snaked away from the Kissing Booth. From the open front, Beni could see Celeste’s glow.

  She ducked to the side, hiding herself behind the tent that housed Madame Osprey’s Aerial Aviary. Doubt made her stomach clench. It had all been so clear just an hour ago, and now? Beni sat, folding her knees against her chest, trapping the arm between her body and her bent legs.

  How much of her life had been running, making excuses for herself to settle, not to try in case she failed? Katarina hadn’t asked her to go to New York, and Beni hadn’t asked Katarina to stay. She’d bought a bottle of rotgut, drank half of it trying to work up the courage, but in the end she’d chickened out. She’d thrown the rest of the bottle in the river, and she hadn’t even gone to the train station to say goodbye, even though she’d promised Katarina she would.

  Beni had convinced herself she was doing the right thing. It was better to let her dreams go than chase after them and watch them crumble. A girl like Katarina couldn’t possibly fall in love with someone like Beni. Just like the Academies couldn’t possibly admit someone like her, no matter how good she was at building things and making designs.

  Lotts was wrong. This was her one shot. Win Celeste’s favor, win her heart’s desire.

  Beni stood, brushing the dust off her clothes. She joined the end of the queue, heart pounding. She stared at the narrow back of the man ahead of her to distract herself. His shirt stuck to his skin. He held his hat in his hands, kneading the brim and shifting from foot to foot.

  The line shuffled forward, agonizingly slowly. Then all at once, the man ahead of Beni was approaching Celeste, and Beni’s heart leapt into her throat. She willed herself to be more like Mattie, living in the moment, letting go of doubts and fears.

  The man with the narrow back showed Celeste something cupped in his palms. Beni couldn’t see if from where she stood, but the Kissing Booth Girl shook her head. Had anyone succeeded in winning their heart’s desire? She’d been so busy building the arm, she hadn’t even thought to ask. Surely Mattie would have told her. What if it was all a glitzy lie, a way to make money, and Beni had been taken in just like any other rube?

  The man ahead of her bowed his head, slinking away. Beni stepped forward, her legs stiff. Up close, Celeste’s gaze was like the heart of a flame in a gas lantern, shivering blue, gold, and violet. It raised goose-bumps on Beni’s skin.

  “Hello.” Celeste smiled; Beni blinked away the afterimage of her chin slicked with blood.

  “Hi.” Beni’s voice cracked.

  Up close, Celeste didn’t even look human. Beni gripped the copper and clockwork arm so tight her fingers ached.

  “Have you come to win your heart’s desire?” Celeste asked. Something about her voice reminded Beni of ringing glass.

  Even if she managed to impress Celeste with her mechanical arm, what then? If Celeste really could grant her heart’s desire, then Beni would never know if she was good enough to get into the Academy on her own. If she tried and failed, at least she would know where she stood. And she could work harder the next time, or straight out barge into the Academy and dare all those white men to kick her out again.

  “I’m more interested in what you want than what I want.” The words came out in a rush.

  “Oh?” Celeste arched a perfect white eyebrow, her lips quirked in a smile.

  Panic gripped Beni. What had she done? One chance to win the Kissing Booth Girl’s favor, that’s all anyone got.

  Beni’s gaze traveled over Celeste’s sculpted features, her marble skin, the knotted crown of her hair, and the perfect, rounded ends of her arms. She was the loveliest thing Beni had ever seen. She’d fallen from the sky. What would a star want with a clockwork arm? What would she want with any of the trinkets any of the people here could offer her?

  “Not many people ask me that,” Celeste said. “Maybe I want what you’re holding in that cloth bundle.”

  The flash of that dangerous smile—the one that reminded Beni of the half-mechanical shark—ghosted with blood. She wanted to step back, but Beni found herself moving forward. Somehow, the wrapping had come undone from the arm, and Beni held it out toward the fallen star. Light from the multi-colored lanterns strung around Celeste’s booth caught the copper joints, the tiny gears that would move the arm in fluid dance when it was joined to Beni’s clockwork woman.

  Beni fought to stay focused. She had to keep the arm, build the rest of the woman. Then the Academy couldn’t possibly turn her away.

  Her head ached. The air around her seemed to hum. This close to Celeste, it was hard to think straight.

  “Is that for me?” Celeste’s gaze picked at Beni, tugging, willing her to say yes.

  A fallen star might not need trinkets, but she needed something. Maybe she needed people to wish on her, to hold out their desires like a handful of coins. Beni forced herself to look at Celeste, really look this time. Behind the shivering flame of her eyes, Beni saw the dark between the stars.

  Celeste wasn’t lost, she hadn’t fallen. She had come here on purpose, and she was hunting.

  “No.” The word quivered at first, Celeste still trying to exert her will. The star’s gaze flickered, troubled. She wasn’t used to being refused.

  “No.” Beni repeated the word louder, and this time she put the force of her body behind it as well.

  She thought about Akers, every sneer, every useless task. She thought about Katarina leaving her behind. She thought about Lotts, and how she wanted to make him proud. She thought about the mechanical woman she would build one day, and how the arm was just the beginning.

  Beni dropped her shoulder and bulled into the side of the Kissing Booth. The plywood tipped and she kept pushing until the whole thing tumbled down. Screams erupted on the midway around her, and Beni ran.

  Beni paced to the edge of the track and peered down its length, checking for the train for the hundredth time. Any moment now a meaty hand would land on her shoulder, the cops come to drag her to jail. Or maybe Akers would come himself. Maybe he wouldn’t bother with jail. Maybe he’d have one of his goons push her onto the tracks just as the train arrived.

  “When you get to the World’s Fair, you send me a postcard, Beni-girl.”

  Beni whirled. Lotts stood behind her, gripping a cane. She nearly swung the sack she held, carrying all of her belongings, few as they were. After the debacle on the midway, she’d grabbed what she could and run.

  “You scared the shit out of me.” Beni’s shoulders slumped.

  “You were going to leave without saying goodbye.”

  “After what I did, I couldn’t exactly stick around.”

  “The way I heard it, a particularly vicious gust of wind knocked over one of the midway booths.” Lotts eyes shone, despite his hunched stance.

  Beni’s mouth dropped open. Behind her, the train finally chugged into the station, hissing steam.

  “What makes you so sure I’ll make it to the World’s Fair?” Beni gathered herself, shouting to be heard over the train.

  “Because I know you, Beni-girl. So I’ll be waiting for that postcard.”

  Beni let her sack drop, wrapping her arms around Lotts and squeezing him hard. She could see the appeal for Celeste, of having someone believe in you. Beni hadn’t even needed to wish for it. She’d
earned it, just like Lotts had earned her respect. The back of her eyes prickled again, but this time, Beni wasn’t ashamed. She stepped back, grinning, and retrieved her sack.

  “I promise. And I’ll send you a postcard from every place I go after.”

  “Oh? Where?” Lotts’ eyes twinkled—a young man’s gaze in an old man’s skin.

  “Everywhere.” Beni grinned. “Cairo, London, Mexico City. There are lots of Fairs, lots of Exhibitions, lots of Academies around the world. I’m going to see them all.”

  Lotts stuck out his hand. After the hug, it seemed strangely formal, but Beni understood. He was welcoming her as a colleague, an equal, a future graduate of an Academy, just like him.

  She shook his hand, then climbed onto the train. Inside, she paused in the doorway. Lotts raised one hand, keeping the other on his cane. His eyes were damp, too, but he smiled, and she could just hear him over the hiss of the train.

  “I just bet you will, Beni-girl. I just bet you will.”

  Everyone knows the opening sequence of Kaleidoscope. Even if they’ve never seen any other part of the movie (and they have, even if they won’t admit it), they know the opening scene. No matter what anyone tells you, it is the most famous two and a half minutes ever put on film.

  The camera is focused on a man’s hand. He’s holding a small shard of green glass, no bigger than his fingernail. He tilts it, catching the light, which darts like a crazed firefly. Then, so very carefully and with loving slowness, he presses the glass into something soft and white.

  The camera is so tight the viewer can’t see what he’s pushing the glass into (but they suspect). Can you imagine that moment of realization for someone who doesn’t know? Watch the opening sequence with a Kaleidoscope virgin sometime, you’ll understand. The man pushes the glass into the soft white, and moves his hand away. A bead of bright red blood appears.