Vagabond Circus Series

by Sarah Noffke

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  The scene that came to life in front of Finley, Titus, and Zuma emptied each of them of all words. Dave lay on the ground, face down in his usual jacket and slacks. Finley watched Zuma, who was cradling her arms.

  Titus scratched his head. Finally he said, “What happened here?”

  “He was poisoned,” Finley said, feeling irritated. “I told you.”

  “But how? How was he poisoned?”

  Finley scanned the figure and the surroundings illuminated by the strange orb in Titus’s hand that glowed like a fluorescent bulb. “Why is he wearing his top hat?” Finley asked. The ringmaster usually had it with him, working his gloved hands across the brim dispelling his nervous tension, but he rarely wore it unless it was during a show.

  “Oh, he just got it back,” Titus said, his voice removed, like he was speaking from a script. “He had a rip in it for the longest time, but he was superstitious about getting it repaired. Fanny finally convinced him and did the repair and she had…” Titus’s words stopped abruptly as his face fell slack.

  “Fanny had Sebastian deliver it, didn’t she?” Finley said.

  “Yes, he dropped it off at the office this evening,” Titus said with a small shiver. “And Sebastian didn’t say a word, just laid the hat on the table top and smiled.”

  “And Dave wore it home, probably happy to have it back,” Zuma said, her eyes lost.

  “Yes,” Finley said. “Sebastian could have drenched the inside rim of the hat with poison. There’s no way that part of the hat wouldn’t come in contact with Dave’s skin. It would have been the perfect vehicle, since I know Sebastian was running out of ways to get the oils on Dave.”

  Titus shook his head with frustration. “All things if we knew about we could have prevented,” he said, not staring at Finley, although the remark was directed at him entirely.

  Finley now looked back at the last several months and realized he’d made fatal errors. He always thought he could manage the situation. That he could protect Dave. That at some point he could stop Sebastian entirely. But once he set eyes on the big top and Zuma he wanted to have it all. He didn’t want to compromise, although he saw now that coming clean from the beginning would have saved Dave’s life. How had a noble gesture turned so wrong and made him a villain? His eyes swiveled to Zuma and he realized she was never going to trust him. Not like she did before.

  A quick presence entered the trailer, startling everyone but Zuma.

  Jack stood in the doorway, breathless. His eyes fell to Dave’s body and then flew away at once. “Sebastian’s gone,” he said between inhalations. “We have to go after him.”

  “It’s no use,” Finley said, defeated. “He would have had someone waiting for him. He’ll be down the interstate by now.”

  “Then we have to call the police to investigate this,” Jack said irately.

  “They won’t find anything,” Finley said without inflection. “Sebastian’s poison isn’t traceable. It’s an oil that hardly registers on tests. And it produces something that looks like a heart attack. When they find a man in his fifties like this they’ll call it cardiac arrest and close the books. Believe me, that’s why Knight uses him.”

  “Then we go after him ourselves,” Jack said.

  Finley realized that everyone was looking at him this time, waiting for his response. “I can tell you where he’s going. Where the compound is, but it’s guarded, it’s going to take more than we have to get in there.”

  “You’re not a part of ‘we,’” Jack said, tearing across the space and almost stepping on Dave to lean over Finley. “We will simply tell the police that—”

  “You’re going to tell them this was foul play when there’s nothing to suggest that it was?” Finley said, a cold laugh in his voice. “Are you then going to say a kid with super powers is responsible and he’s in a warehouse in LA? Yeah, I’m sure they’ll run to help. While you’re at it, tell them you belong to an elite race known as Dream Travelers. I’ll visit you in the mental hospital.”

  “The hat though,” Titus said. “What if we have it taken in for evidence?”

  “Well, if the person who investigates the evidence doesn’t die from exposure then they probably won’t find anything of use either,” Finley said, now speaking with such confidence that he had everyone’s attention. “Sebastian is untraceable. His poison is so similar to natural body chemicals that it doesn’t trigger any alarms.”

  “Then we tell them we have a lead on Knight’s Kids,” Jack said. “If Titus is right about them being associated with hefty crimes then they’ll want our tip-off.”

  “You think Knight doesn’t know how to dodge suspicion?” Finley said, shaking his head. “He has his act down. The police knock at his door and all they find is a warehouse full of sailboats in various states of disrepair. They meet a cordial man who offers to take them out sailing once he gets one of the boats going again. There isn’t a trace of evidence. Nothing that would cause a judge to issue a search warrant. He doesn’t have his kids out where they can be seen and I don’t even know what he does with the things we steal. We never see them again after our job is done.”

  “So then what do we do?” Zuma asked, cradling her arms in tighter.

  “I don’t know,” Titus said, the orb still lighting up the trailer and their faces. “I need time to search this place and figure this out, but I definitely don’t want the authorities or the circus alerted until I have time to think. I can do some time travel while sleeping tonight and try and learn what was going on, but I’ll have to be careful.”

  Dream Travelers can go back in time to witness certain events, but it’s exhausting, difficult, and can lead to a schism in a person’s consciousness. All Titus would have to do is accidentally pick a time when his consciousness was present in that reality and he’d scar himself forever. Past self-interaction was never advisable and illegal in most societies of Dream Travelers.

  “Titus, I can help you,” Zuma said, but her voice sounded defeated as she stared blankly at the dead body before her.

  “Thank you, but I think the fewer people involved the better,” he said to the girl. “For now don’t breathe a word about this. We’re just going to close up this trailer and pretend we haven’t found this until I have more time to investigate, all right?”

  Everyone nodded.

  “All right, Finley,” Titus said, sending his eyes in his direction. “I’ll need you to write down where this compound is. I’ve got to figure out how we are going to go after Knight and the location is key to the strategy.”

  Finley ground his teeth together, his eyes cast on a dark corner. “I’d love to, but as you might remember I can’t write. Thanks for reminding the group though,” he said.

  “Right. Sorry,” Titus said at once. “Follow me back to the office and give me the information, would you then?”

  “Sure,” Finley said, stepping out of the trailer. He waited until Titus and Jack stalked past him, leading the way to the office. When Zuma moved by him, he stuck out an arm to block her. “You have to know that I thought I was doing right. I’m sorry. Please don’t—”

  She pushed his arm down with a brutal force and stepped in closer, putting her nose even with his. “I didn’t love anyone more than I loved the man inside that trailer. He represented everything that was right in my life. And you, whether you meant to or were just too much a coward, ripped that away from me. I won’t ever be able to tell him how much he meant to me and that’s your fault. Since you entered this circus, you’ve cursed it, Finley,” she said, her words spilling out of her in an angry mess.

  “Zuma,” he said, reaching for her, knowing she couldn’t mean all this.

  She marched past him immediately. Jack reached out and shoved Finley back. “Lay off her, man. You have to realize you’ve put this on yourself. Don’t make it worse with false apologies.”

  And suddenly all of Finley’s past behaviors at the circus seemed wrong. He thought he’d b
een strategic, playing things just right. But now he realized that everything he did wasn’t considered normal or serious by these people. He’d been trying to protect himself, and them, by not opening up. And now they didn’t trust him. Couldn’t trust who he was showing them now, which was his true self. How had Knight won again? How had Knight swept in and taken everything dear to him yet again?

  Chapter Sixty-Nine

  The group marched to Titus’s office tent. Zuma really thought she’d go in there, but as she neared, she realized that she couldn’t. She needed to get away from all things that reminded her of Dave. As her eyes skirted around the trailers, she realized that was going to be difficult. This grief felt impossible and yet, she hadn’t even begun to deal with it. What she wanted was a break. A reason to get away from this group. She needed to be alone. Jack was in front of her, marching with his shoulders high, and he was beside an also tense Finley. Titus led the group.

  “So what did you steal?” Jack asked Finley, not sounding curious, but rather intimidating.

  Zuma noticed Finley’s head drop. She didn’t know how she could love and hate someone so much, but that’s how she felt for Finley right then. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and tell him he was good enough and also shove him down and kick him in the ribs and tell him he was no one to her. The competing desires ripped at her, tearing her into pieces that could never be sewn back together.

  “Everything,” Finley stated without inflection.

  “Elaborate,” Jack said as they walked.

  “Stuff,” Finley said, easily keeping pace. Zuma thought it must have been difficult for him to move with normal-speed humans since he always had the option of super speed, which she felt was more natural for him. “Cars, money, jewels, artwork…you know the stuff people steal. The stuff of value.”

  “So you stole whatever that guy told you to?” she heard Jack ask. She wished he’d stop. Leave Finley alone. No, the guy wasn’t perfect and had done something unforgivable, but it was doing irreparable damage to her insides to hear the extent of his past. Maybe that’s why he kept it from me? she thought.

  “I did whatever he told me to,” Finley said matter-of-factly, “until I realized I could think in my own head, but that took some time. I’m certain none of the other kids ever got there. I have an advantage on them though.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Jack said, scoffing at Finley. They were nearly to Dave and Titus’s office. “Of course you can always think in your own head.”

  “Ever heard of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs?” Finley asked.

  “Of course. How have you, without reading?” he asked and didn’t sound like he was trying to insult as much as having a burning curiosity.

  “I’ve spent a lot of time dream traveling, once I realized I had the skill. I’ve learned by listening to others, by attending lectures at Ivy League universities.”

  “Uhhh…why didn’t you use that time to learn how to read?” Jack asked.

  “Because it was more important to me when I entered Vagabond Circus that I sounded educated, rather than actually being educated,” Finley said.

  “That’s pretty smart,” Jack admitted. “But what’s your point, about Maslow?”

  “Well, when your basic needs aren’t met then you don’t ask questions. You do whatever you’re told to get to that next meal. You do whatever you’re told as long as you aren’t beaten. You may be able to find your own food or fight back, but until you get to that higher level then you don’t know that,” Finley said.

  “So the prisoner remains in chains until they realize there aren’t any chains there in the first place…which doesn’t happen if they’re never given sight?” Jack asked in a hush of poetic disbelief.

  “Yeah, I guess,” Finley said, turning his head and startling at the sight of Zuma behind them. He had thought she was farther back or had stopped off. His eyes rested on her for a moment before she sent hers to the ground.

  “You said you had an advantage on the other kids. What was it?” Jack asked.

  “Knight can’t get in my head,” Finley said.

  “Like the way you keep Zuma out?”

  Finley tensed at the mention of her name, knowing she was just behind them and listening. “Yes, but he doesn’t read thoughts.”

  “What does he do?”

  “He gets into kids’ heads and causes them the worst pain, apparently a headache like no other. With the right motivation he can cause an aneurism.”

  “What?” Jack said, completely grossed out by the idea. “That’s how he controls the kids?”

  “That’s part of it,” Finley said, his voice calloused. “He isn’t normal, not like most Dream Travelers. He’s different. Stronger.”

  “But why doesn’t his power work on you?” Jack asked as they walked, their pace slow in the dark.

  “I don’t know,” Finley said. “I’ve always had a permanent shield built into my head it seems, but Knight doesn’t know it. I pretend his skill works on me. I pretend to be in pain when I know that’s what he’s doing.”

  “You’re good at acting, aren’t you?” Jack said, cold contempt in his voice.

  “Look, man, I did what I had to, to survive. I don’t expect you to understand.”

  Jack ran his eyes over Finley’s face, still so unsure what to make of him and all he’d shared. “So the other stuff Knight does to get compliance…did he starve and beat you?” Jack asked, and he wasn’t trying to pry unthoughtfully. He was trying to make sense of the person who strode beside him and had made so many fatal errors in the last few months.

  Zuma’s eyelids pressed together with a sudden memory. The three long scars down Finley’s back. He’d remembered how he’d gotten them after all, but he didn’t want to tell her who he was and where he came from.

  Finley threw another look of longing over his shoulder at Zuma, who refused to look back at him. “It doesn’t matter, does it? The point is that I’m here.” And screwed up everything, he thought to himself.

  Chapter Seventy

  Zuma stopped, her legs unwilling to bring her any closer to the miniature big top. Inside that tent, Vagabond Circus was created. Every single employee had sat in that office across the table from Dave and listened to his speech.

  “I refuse to allow the world to turn into a series of gray emotions,” Dr. Raydon said to Zuma on her first day. She remembered the smell of dirt and hay in the air. The cool breeze wafting through the open tent. And the excited eyes of the ringmaster as he sat before her. He focused his gaze fondly at the top hat on the table before returning it to her. “In my psychiatric practice grown men told me there was nothing to live for. Women with perfect health told me they were lost. Children complained about having too much responsibility. It was then that I realized how defective the population was. And, you know, the cure was so simple to me.”

  Dave had then smiled broadly, a knowing look in his eyes. “There’s no reason anyone should ever feel lonely when there’s love everywhere. There’s no excuse for talented people to trudge through life. And if we weigh down our children, the very source that makes the stars blaze in the sky, then we may wake to realize we’ve lost something irretrievable.” He then sucked in a breath and released a fond sigh as he stared out at nothing. “Vagabond Circus has one main goal and that’s to inspire. We want to reach those who have lost the spark in their eyes, and the repercussions to that will be tenfold. If we show these people, these lost souls, that magic exists in us, then they will find it in themselves. If you, my friend, want to remind the world that true magic is in each and every person then I invite your talent in my circus. But this isn’t just an agreement you enter into with me.” His tone suddenly had grown cautious, while still inviting. “You are making this agreement with your fellow humans. You are agreeing to save them from monotony and starched suits and deadlines. You’re agreeing to make them feel something. And part of that agreement is to give them the gift to smile for no reason. To laugh unabashedly. To revert to who th
ey used to be before they forgot how incredible life is.” Then Dave would stick out a gloved hand, offering it to the would-be Vagabond Circus member. “If this sounds like the right place and job for you then no words are necessary, let’s just shake on it.”

  And the ringmaster was strategic in his approach, because most had been so inspired and reenergized by Dave’s speech that a handshake was all they could manage. But now that speech was dead, just as the man who had given it hundreds of times was too. Would his circus die now? The idea made Zuma want to throw herself to the ground. Beat the earth under her feet. Kick until the bruises and gashes she caused on her body from the tantrum stole her attention from her bleeding heart.

  “Zuma,” Jack said, turning and realizing she hadn’t moved. Her eyes were frozen on a single spot, not seeing it. She had made herself momentarily catatonic to keep everything locked inside her.

  Jack retreated back to her, his face kind. “Are you coming?”

  Zuma tried to shake her head but it was useless. “No,” she finally whispered.

  “Okay, do you want me to take you to your trailer?” Jack had a worry in his tone, like he was afraid his voice could break her.

  She was acting fragile. That was unacceptable. Zuma pulled her eyes up and found Finley staring at her like he didn’t recognize her suddenly. Stone. I’m stone, she thought.