Vagabond Circus Series

by Sarah Noffke

  “We do, Master,” they said in unison.

  The idea that Sebastian could run around and do whatever he wanted terrified Finley. He didn’t know the boy well, but knew he was obsessed with creating pain.

  “And Finley. You wanted to be a star in this circus and if you would have just been patient you would have known I was about to give that to you. But your haste and show of disrespect has earned you my forever contempt. Sebastian tells me that you seem to care for these people at Vagabond Circus. The ones who now work for me.” The threat was as heavy as lead in Knight’s tone.

  “Master, punish me,” Finley said, his voice a raspy plea.

  “I’ve always respected you, Finley,” Knight said, ignoring his request. “You were my first named kid. The one who was relentless, always doing what I asked. You were so strong you never went any further than round one of the punishments. I’ve always found this strange because usually the pain I create inside my kids’ heads makes them pee their pants before any physical threats start, but you weren’t ever weakened. Strange really.” And the insinuation flanked the last two words, bringing instant panic to Finley’s mind.

  “Master, I can explain,” Finley said, his voice an urgent whisper now.

  “Can you? CAN YOU?” Knight said too loud. “Sebastian?”

  “Yes, Master?” the younger boy said.

  “Tell me how this feels,” Knight said.

  A deep guttural scream ripped from the boy’s mouth. Finley didn’t dare turn around. The groan dissipated over a long few seconds.

  “And Gwendolyn?” Knight said when Sebastian had quieted.

  “Yes, Master?” the girl said.

  Again a wail of pain filled the tent, this one high-pitched.

  “And Finley?” Knight said when he’d apparently released Gwendolyn from the torture. “Do you want to fake a yelp of pain as you always have? Because I targeted the pain at you when that girl made her accusations since I saw you holding her hand when I came in. I thought torturing you would be a better punishment for her since I know assaulting the people others care about is most effective. However, you didn’t even flinch. And now I’m targeted on you but there’s no effect. For how long has my mind torture not worked on you?” Some of Knight’s words were quick and others drawn out, like he was alternating his delivery for amusement.

  “Always, Master,” Finley said in a low voice.

  A chuckle that sounded nothing like one slipped out of Knight’s mouth. “Then you’ve given me no choice but to give your punishment to the ones you care about.”

  “But Master—” Finley almost jerked his head up.

  “Silence! You want to hurt them and also be cursed? Do you, Finley? Oh, and I realize you figured out you can dream travel. So do it. Escape again, but note that I will find you and when I do I will destroy you after I’ve cursed or murdered every last person at this circus. IS THAT CLEAR?”

  Finley nodded, unable to manage anything else.

  “You are a part of this family whether you like it or not. You will stay, you will serve, and you will be an example to my kids and the people of Vagabond Circus or next time I won’t let up on the girl with the pink stripe in her hair. I’ll make her head hurt until it hemorrhages.”

  “Yes, Master,” Finley said on the tails of Knight’s words, hoping to cut him off, to make him stop. Finley couldn’t believe how flawed he’d been in thinking he could save Zuma from the curse. That was impossible. And now he was going to have an incredibly difficult time just keeping her alive. His only hope was that she’d leave Vagabond Circus and that hope was worthless. The girl would never abandon Dave’s circus. Especially now that it was in drastic need of saving.

  Chapter Three

  The stuffy air in Ian’s truck was starting to make him feel like he was suffocating. He’d been sitting in the old teal Chevy for three long hours with the windows sealed shut. He’d been in the truck’s passenger seat when Zuma, Finley, and Jack had arrived. She had cast a relieved glance at the truck, but since it was dark she hadn’t noticed him in there. He was grateful she looked relieved to see the truck, grateful she felt better knowing he was still there at Vagabond Circus. Ian had no disillusions. He actually was the one person at Vagabond Circus, and one of the few in the world, who really saw things for what they were. His divination and clairvoyance made his realities always clear. Ian’s heart was only lightened that someone with a spark as pure as Zuma’s cared about him. He went unnoticed by most by choice, but he wanted to be thought fondly of by the girl, especially once he was gone.

  Ian hadn’t been surprised to see Jack’s legs stretched in front of him, hadn’t been surprised to see him in a wheelchair. He’d known that if Finley and Zuma had followed his directions, they would save Jack, but not from his fall. Some futures were unavoidable. And in the case of Jack’s paralysis, it wasn’t the worst-case scenario. In truth, Jack living his life without the challenges he was going to face would have delivered him a much worse future. Now Jack had the chance at real happiness.

  Ian opened the glove box and stared at the blackness inside it. He knew what was in there, although he couldn’t see it directly. He’d bought the item last week. Now he sat in the passenger seat wishing he would have run away from Vagabond Circus last week instead. That’s one reason he’d chosen to sit in the passenger side instead of the driver’s side of his truck. His constant visions of the future made him feel like a passenger to what was going to happen to Vagabond Circus. He would have little involvement in the things Knight would do to his people, but still he’d be forced to watch one way or another, either in person or in his head. And that’s why he hadn’t run away. One way or another he’d be cursed with the visions of the future.

  Ian would always see the horrible no matter where he was. So he didn’t run even though he wanted to. Soon most at Vagabond Circus would want to run away too, but none of them would. For most, they would stay with the faith that they were in the right place at the moment, or that they were protecting Dave’s circus. For those who didn’t instinctively believe this, they would once Ian spread his well-crafted rumor.

  He threw his hand through his light-colored curly hair. He didn’t like to lie. The man had never had a reason to lie before; withholding information was as close as Ian ever came. But now he’d have to tell the Vagabond Circus members that if they stayed and endured the torture Knight would put them through, then they would overthrow his leadership and run him away. He would also tell them that if they ran away then Knight would ruin Vagabond Circus, forever tarnishing everything Dave sought to do. Knight would make all those who believed in magic, believe in something sinister. Knight would spread evil if the Vagabond Circus members left the big top. That’s what Ian would tell them.

  This actually wasn’t the future that Ian saw. Not at all. What he saw had forced him to lock himself away in his truck, almost hoping to suffocate in the small compartment. However, Ian knew he couldn’t give up yet. Except with the first vision he ever saw, he never tried to change the vision in his head. But now Ian had to. If his gift was to be considered that at all, then in this case it had to be employed to make things right. And after he’d told his lies and set up a different path for Vagabond Circus members then he’d finally be done. He would free himself of the torture of being a prisoner to the unrelenting tragedies of the future playing in his vision.

  Ian reached into the dark glove box and removed the pistol he had bought last week. He had no doubt that when the time came he could raise the gun to his head and fire. No doubt at all. Ian had already seen himself doing just that in a vision of the future.

  Chapter Four

  “He can’t get away with this,” Zuma said to Titus in a hush. Her head was still pressed between her palms as she walked beside the older man.

  Titus pushed Jack’s wheelchair. The acrobat seemed to be in a silent state of shock. He hadn’t said a word since he’d confronted Knight. Now Jack just stared at his outstretched legs like he didn’t bel
ieve they were real. It was his current reality he was doubting. It didn’t compute and he regretted that he hadn’t said more. Charged Knight. Confronted him. Accused him. Attacked him. But how could he? He was powerless. And trying to convict Knight of attempting to murder him was ridiculous. Jack had jumped through a skylight. That’s how the authorities would see it. He’d broken and entered. Trespassers had no rights. Finley had once said that Knight’s crimes were untraceable. Now Jack fully understood why.

  In the background Jack heard muttering. Titus and Zuma were talking. To decipher their words would take more focus than his shocked state would allow so he just stayed locked on the unmoving legs in front of him.

  “Titus, what is he doing here? How can we stop him? We have to do something,” Zuma said, her voice low, her tone frantic.

  Titus halted and spun to face the girl. “Don’t you think I know that?” Just as Zuma pulled her hands from her still aching head Titus had her face cupped in his fingers. It was an urgent gesture, but still full of gentleness. It spoke so eloquently of the fear inside of Titus. For him to reach out, to grab her, meant he was bursting with panic. “Zuma, get this straight, we are doomed. There’s nothing we can do. And therefore you have to leave Vagabond Circus. You and Jack and everyone have to leave. Without you all here, Knight has no circus.”

  Zuma’s dark eyes narrowed and she stepped back out of Titus’s hold. “No.” She said that one word sharp enough it could cut. “I’m not letting him have Dave’s circus. I’m—”

  “It’s his circus now,” Titus said. “He has a legitimate claim to Dave’s share of fifty-one percent. That’s why you all have to leave. There’s nothing we can do and Knight will destroy Vagabond Circus now and turn it into something sinister.”

  “That’s exactly why we have to stay and take it back,” Zuma said, wanting to stomp her feet into the earth.

  Titus was already shaking his head before she was done speaking. “No, Zuma, you don’t get it. There’s no beating Knight. Even Dave knew that. That’s why he only banished him from Vagabond Circus using a curse. He knew he could never get rid of him, although I’m not sure he would have tried.”

  “So what? You’re just going to allow him to have your shares and abandon everything you’ve worked for for twenty years?” Zuma asked, shaking with anger.

  “What choice do I have?” Titus said, and the defeat in his voice attempted to crawl into Zuma’s heart and hibernate there.

  She shook this off, rose up higher on her long legs. Stared up at the creative director. “You can stay with me and figure out a way to save things. This can’t be over. Because if we leave then Knight will just find new performers. He’ll enslave his kids to perform. At least if we stay we can protect people. At least if we stay we have a chance of taking Vagabond Circus back,” Zuma said.

  Titus shook his head and looked away from the girl, off into the dark where he could see nothing. But when Titus spoke, he was talking to Zuma. “So you won’t leave then?”

  “Not even if my life is at stake,” she said, her voice full of conviction.

  “Well, if you stay that’s exactly what’s at stake, Zuma. I want you to know that.”

  “Titus please,” she said, reaching out and taking the creative director’s hand. He’d known Zuma her whole life. Had been there when she was born in the big top. And like Dave he knew she carried a special magic in her, a power to change things. “Please, Titus. You have to believe we are strong enough to stop this. You have to believe you’re strong enough,” she added.

  “Okay,” he said, his eyes on the petite hand clutching his.

  Before he could say more the phone in Zuma’s pocket rang, clanging like the loudest sound in the world inside the silent dark circus grounds. Zuma shuffled hastily for the phone. With a quick glance at the screen she turned and rushed for Fanny’s trailer. “It’s Dr. Chang,” she called over her shoulder. “Bring Jack,” she said to Titus. “Hurry.”

  Chapter Five

  Fanny had been trudging the same path out in front of her darkened trailer when she heard the approaching footsteps. Her three charges were finally asleep inside. Fanny had tried to lie down, knowing if she was exhausted tomorrow she wouldn’t be able to care for the kids with the affection they deserved. However, the multiple attempts at rest had been met with defeat. A nervous hum buzzed in the older woman’s chest and the only thing that made it bearable was pacing. Back and forth. Again and again.

  She turned at the sound of the racing feet. A dark figure moved swiftly across the grounds in her direction. Could it be more heartbreak? Fanny almost considered running into her trailer and locking the door. Locking herself away from the potentially approaching bad news. Then Fanny spotted the unmistakable, almost white hair flying back behind Zuma’s face as she ran. Something glowing was pressed to the girl’s head. She was ten feet away when Fanny heard her speak into what she now realized was a phone. “Yes, we got here safely. And Fanny is right here. I’ll turn the phone over to her now,” the young girl said.

  Zuma arrived with a graceful halt in front of the bewildered woman. The girl’s hair hung in strings around her reddened face, and her chest vibrated, not from running, but rather from adrenaline. Before Fanny could praise God for bringing the acrobat back to Vagabond Circus safely she took the cell phone from Zuma’s outstretched hand.

  “It’s Dr. Chang,” Zuma said in response to the confused look on Fanny’s face. “He’s Jack’s doctor and he only released him because he knew Jack would be under your care. You have to speak to him and prove that you’re nurse Fanny.”

  The woman closed her swollen fingers around the cell phone. “Jack’s doctor?” she said, trying to remember the last news she’d heard about Jack. He’d broken his legs in a fall in Knight’s compound. That’s what Titus had told her. She drew in a long breath and nodded a high chin at Zuma. “Of course.” She slid the cell phone to her ear.

  “Nurse Fanny Swedlund speaking,” the woman said at once into the phone.

  A man on the other side of the line cleared his throat. “Nurse Fanny, I can hardly believe this could be you. I’m Dr. Chang,” a man said, a subtle Chinese accent to his words.

  “Hello, Doctor,” Fanny said, trying to understand why she was talking on the phone with a stranger at this late hour.

  “I’ve studied your cases extensively,” Dr. Chang said. “And I released Jack early into your care because I believe his future is best in hands like yours. However, for my peace of mind, I have to know you’re the world renowned nurse I’ve heard of.”

  Fanny nodded, although the man on the other side of the phone couldn’t see this response. “If you’ve studied my cases,” she began in a confident tone, “then you know that in over ten years I oversaw the care of six hundred seventy-five cancer patients, two hundred thirty-four injury patients, and eight hundred ninety patients with viral infection. Seventy-five percent of my patients were considered terminal and yet only twelve patients passed away from their conditions.”

  Silence on the line. Something bristled against the receiver. Then Dr. Chang said, “Well, there’s no doubt now, only the real Nurse Fanny would know those numbers without hesitation.”

  “Exactly,” she said. “Now, you said that Jack’s future rested in my hands. What is his prognosis?” Fanny said, her curious eyes on an anxious Zuma in front of her; then her eyes tightened on someone else approaching in the dark between the trailers in the distance.

  “Wait,” Dr. Chang said. “You don’t know? Haven’t you seen Jack yet?”

  “He just arrived,” Fanny said, now seeing it was two figures approaching, Titus pushing Jack in a wheelchair.

  “Oh, well, you’ll want to check his legs to ensure the travel didn’t open any of the incisions,” Dr. Chang said. “And then you and I should plan to discuss his physical therapy treatment and how you intend to approach his healing. You see, I discharged Jack, but I still feel invested in his care. Turning him over to you was a special case and I’d lik
e you to loop me into his recovery.”

  “Of course, Dr. Chang,” Fanny said. “And I appreciate your confidence in me. I know Jack must have been anxious to return to his home.”

  “He was. You were a big factor in allowing him early discharge with his condition,” the doctor said.

  “And again, you haven’t answered my earlier question. What is Jack’s condition?” Fanny asked.

  There was another pause. “He’s paralyzed,” Dr. Chang said just as Jack and Titus made it to a portion of light, illuminating the defeated look on the young man’s face, and the bandages on his legs which stretched out before him.

  “Right,” Fanny said, feeling something like a stone fall to the bottom of her stomach.

  Chapter Six

  “Oh, in heaven’s name,” Fanny said, pushing the phone into Zuma’s hand and hurrying toward Jack. She didn’t completely register the exhaustion dripping off his face before she flung her arms around his shoulders. Fanny’s embrace had the effect on Jack that it had on most: it opened him up. Gave him a silent validation to allow his emotions to spill out of him. He clapped a hand around the older woman’s back and squeezed his eyes shut. Unlike most at Vagabond Circus he hadn’t been raised by Fanny. He had come to the circus at the age of fifteen as a performer. But still he knew why all of her kids would do anything for the caregiver, because she gave herself to them. Loved them with all she had. Such was the capacity of Fanny Swedlund.