by Sarah Noffke
Chapter Ten
Since seeing Dave’s figure standing in Fanny’s trailer, Zuma had found it impossible to fully catch her breath. Each attempt to fill her lungs with oxygen was cut short by an ache in her chest, leaving her lightheaded. Yes, she knew that the extremely real form wasn’t Dave. It could talk like him, looked like him, but inside that body was Benjamin’s soul and not Dave’s. His had vanished. Moved on. Still, she kept seeing Dave in her head. Wondering how many ways he lived on in the people of Vagabond Circus. That was the gift and curse of the circus. Anything could happen. The impossible didn’t apply to Vagabond Circus.
After Fanny heavily asserted she be alone to examine Jack, Titus had insisted on chaperoning Zuma to her trailer. On the quiet trip to her place, the creative director kept jerking his head over his shoulder looking for a lurking figure in the dark.
“You think we could be attacked?” she finally asked.
“I don’t know what to expect. Knight can’t be trusted. You’ve already seen that,” Titus said, his voice low.
“Why is he here? Why did he take his inheritance? Why would he want it?” Zuma asked.
“Because Knight once loved Vagabond Circus,” Titus said, his eyes scanning the grounds continuously. “Well, as much as he is capable of loving anything. Anyway, I know when Dave forced Knight to leave the circus that’s when he really broke. Became pure evil.”
“And is that why Knight cursed the circus?” Zuma said. “Because Dave forced him to leave?”
Titus stopped with eyes so wide she could see too much of their white in the dark night. “How do you know about the curse?”
“Finley told me,” she said, studying the new nervousness that covered him.
“He told you?” Titus said, sounding almost angry.
“Well, not what the curse was, but just that Knight had done it. You know what the curse is? Tell me,” Zuma said.
Titus looked around, unable to see much in the dark grounds. Finally he grabbed Zuma’s hand and dragged her toward her trailer. “Not right now. Let’s get you to safety.”
“Titus…” she said, frustrated and confused.
“Not right now, Zuma,” Titus said and there was a rare authority in his voice she didn’t question. She wanted more of that to come out of Titus. If Titus was going to protect Vagabond Circus from Knight then he’d have to be stronger than he’d ever been.
At Zuma’s trailer Titus stood looking around, scanning for hidden dangers. “There’s a meeting first thing tomorrow morning. Knight called it. Be there and then we will figure out what we’re doing next.”
Zuma felt so sorry for Titus. He wanted to protect his people. To get them as far away from danger as possible, but to do that he’d have to give up an empire worth more than anything he’d ever had. The torn look in his eyes made her breath fully catch in her lungs. “Okay,” she said.
“Now get inside there and lock the door. Call me if you need anything, got it?” Titus said.
She nodded and did as she was told, pushing the latch closed as soon as she entered the space. However, Zuma didn’t move away from the wall. She stayed there for a long minute. Then she pushed back the curtain of the window beside her. Titus had gone. Zuma realized she was shaking when she pulled the lock back open. She didn’t like defying Titus’s orders. If he were Dave then the thought wouldn’t have even occurred to her, but Titus had never held as much authority as the ringmaster.
Zuma searched the dark but the grounds were quiet. Gloomy. Still. There was one light on, two trailers over. She snuck past Jasmine’s trailer. How confused her fellow acrobat must have been when Jack, Finley, and Zuma disappeared. She’d have to explain so much to her friend tomorrow, Zuma thought.
The light in the trailer beside Jasmine’s was dim, probably just the light over the stove or one in the bathroom. He probably only turned it on briefly, but it was enough for Zuma to know that Finley was inside his trailer. That light hadn’t been on when she’d run past there an hour ago with Titus and Jack following her to Fanny’s trailer.
Zuma brought in a full breath, grateful she could finally breathe properly. Soon she’d be with Finley and have his comfort. His protection. That was the only ray of hope in the current dismal circumstances.
Her fist paused before quietly rapping on the metal door to his trailer. Inside she heard something stir. Her combat sense caught the blinds move quickly. Most would have never seen it. She knew he’d used his super speed to see who was outside his door. Zuma expected that she’d hear the door unlock and pulled back. Then she’d walk forward into Finley’s arms, the only place she’d feel safe. And yet she realized that nothing was happening. She stood for a full thirty seconds when she realized maybe Finley wasn’t about to open the door. But why? Another thirty seconds passed. Zuma knocked again. Quite possibly Finley hadn’t seen her. Couldn’t see his visitor in the dark.
“Finley, it’s me. Open up,” Zuma whispered, her lips an inch from the crack in his door. Her hands pressed into it.
She then felt a weight press against the other side of the door. Something firm. And then Zuma heard a rustling as something slid down the door and landed on the floor. Was Finley sitting with his back against the door? Keeping her out?
Again she knocked. Louder this time. “Finley, what are you doing? Let me in,” Zuma said, then looked over her shoulder spying a movement. Then there was a sound. A twig breaking underfoot. She spied through the dark for Sebastian or Power-Stopper or whoever else could be prowling in the grounds of Vagabond Circus.
She thought she saw something in the distance. Her eyes focused until she saw two green beads in the dark. The light from a nearby streetlight reflected off them. Yes, it was a pair of eyes. She was certain of that. Maybe the eyes of a raccoon or opossum? But then she realized the two reflections in the blackness were too high off the ground to belong to a rodent. The eyes were roughly twenty yards away down a row of trailers and hovered at the height of a person. At Sebastian’s height. However, humans’ eyes weren’t supposed to reflect light, Zuma remembered. Eye shine occurs in nocturnal animals, mostly carnivores who hunt at night. And still this not quite animal, not quite human, moved and the outline of their frame took shape. It was a person. A boy. And then everything but their green eyes went dark. Disappeared. The person’s body was bathed in dark. She was sure it was Sebastian. Sure, although the dark was robbing her senses of so much. And Zuma realized all he had to do was touch her, touch her and she’d be dead. She turned back to the door with a new urgency. “Damn it, Finley, open up,” she said, her voice a hush. “There’s someone out here.”
She felt a thump on the other side of the door like something banged back into it. Finley’s head maybe.
“Go back to your trailer, Zuma. You’re not safe out there,” he said from the other side of the door.
“Finley,” Zuma said, her voice catching in her throat. He was in there! “Let me in then,” she said, whipping her head over her shoulder. The eyes were gone. Had moved.
“You’re not safe in here either,” Finley said, his voice breaking the veil holding Zuma’s emotions back.
“What?” she half croaked out through threatening tears.
“Go away, Zuma,” Finley said, a new sternness in his voice.
From her peripheral Zuma’s combat sense noticed movement behind her, still a bit of distance, but someone was there. Now she knew it.
Zuma turned, putting her back to Finley’s door and scanning the darkness. Whatever had moved was hidden now. “Finley,” Zuma said, her head to the side, pulse racing, “I need your help now. Please.” She said the last word with a begging urgency.
“Then listen to me and do exactly what I say,” Finley said.
Zuma pressed herself into the door, almost sensing she could feel Finley pressed into the other side of the door.
“You’re fast,” he said, his words hard. “Much faster than him. Take off running now and don’t stop until you’re locked inside your trailer. Okay
?”
“But Finley,” Zuma almost cried, panic taking over her once steady heart.
“No,” he said in a harsh whisper. “You can’t come in here. Just stay away from me.”
Tears rattled in Zuma’s throat. Her combat sense spied the figure move out into the dark open. Fifteen yards in the opposite direction of her trailer.
“Please,” she said through a bottleneck of tears.
“Go now, Zuma!” Finley yelled, his voice angry and urgent.
She caught the movement in front of her a second before the figure started in her direction. Zuma shot in the other direction, racing for her trailer, using her acrobatic grace to manage the distance ahead of her with precise efficiency. She felt the figure rushing behind her. Heard him moving, not as fast or graceful as her. Zuma’s hand reached for her door before she was there. She whipped it open and shut and locked it in one single movement, like a morbid dance move. She backed away from the door shaking, her eyes pinned on it, realizing how flimsy the divider was from her and the person on the other side. Zuma reached for her cell phone in her pocket when Sebastian’s voice came through her door.
“The night belongs to me, Zuma,” he said in a voice that slithered through her mind, echoing its dark intent. “Let’s play a game from now on, shall we? During the day you’re safe, but watch your back when night comes. Tag, you’re it.” And then a laugh so wrong and sick slipped through the crack. “I’m dying to put hands on you. I’ve always wanted to, but now I have permission.” Another laugh, but this one faded as its owner moved away from the trailer.
Chapter Eleven
Titus checked to ensure the ringer on his mobile phone was on and at full volume. Everyone at Vagabond Circus had his number. They all knew to call for any reason. As he stood motionless in the center of his own trailer his conversation with Zuma sped through his mind, different parts of it all at once, like several tracks playing over each other, inundating his brain.
Titus stared at the door of his trailer. What dangers did he expect to hurt Vagabond Circus members? Besides from what Knight did to Zuma in the office tent and to Titus when he arrived, there had been no other threats, but that was just the thing about Knight. He did things so they were impossible to link to him. Got into people’s heads to create mysterious headaches. Used a boy with poison in the oils of his skin to murder. Commanded Gwendolyn to stop Dream Travelers’ powers so they couldn’t fight back. And suffocated innocent babies when no one was around.
Knight hadn’t made any threats yet, but Titus knew there was still something to be feared. When Knight had been at Vagabond Circus before, in the early years, his presence made everything tense. His precise tone of speaking to people set everyone on edge. And yet he was Dave’s brother so no one said anything about the sinister stares Knight gave them or the things he said which seemed to insinuate threats.
Titus folded his gaze down to the worn carpet of his trailer. He should move. Do something. Eat something. But he felt paralyzed by the thoughts still streaming wildly across his mind. Zuma wouldn’t leave the circus, but maybe others would if it looked like things were getting worse. Titus wanted to save Dave’s circus from his crazy brother but he didn’t know how. The very man responsible for the ringmaster’s death was now running the show. How was this venture even worth doing anymore? But Titus knew Zuma was right. They couldn’t just run. However, the coward in Titus had been so close. So close to never confronting Knight when he climbed out of that truck upon arriving at Vagabond Circus. He would admit only to himself that once he saw Knight he almost turned and ran the opposite direction, abandoning the circus and its people. He wasn’t a strong man, but he was starting to realize that fate was trying to make him into one. Would fate win or would Titus be defeated? Murdered. Made nameless and forgotten like so many who confronted Knight or opposed him.
And still Titus felt that twitch in his legs to get in his car and drive as far away as possible. He had always run from conflict. Cowered when confronted by bullies. The only time he’d ever been brave was when Knight had come to fight Dave. Knight had just killed his own child. Dave didn’t know when his brother confronted him on the day Dave’s wife, Cynthia, gave birth that the child wasn’t his. And Dave also didn’t know that Knight had just found out he’d murdered his own son. But all was revealed as Knight smashed his fist again and again into the ringmaster’s face. With each swing of Knight’s arm he told a piece of the story. And Titus had watched from a distance, thinking he was going to witness Knight beat his best friend to death. Just watch. Unable to build up the courage to stop it. And he almost did.
But then somehow something took possession of him. Titus remembered moving with an urgency, his hands not hesitating when he neared Knight. He grabbed his arm, which was in the process of throwing another punch into Dave’s bloody face. Knight, who knew Titus was a coward, turned with a look of pure shock when he discovered the creative director was the one stopping him. When people act in ways incongruent to their usual behavior they have the most advantages. That’s how Titus gained the advantage on Knight that day. While the assailant was momentarily beset with shock, Titus threw his own punch into Knight’s face. Forty years of repressed anger rocketed out of Titus’s fist, breaking Knight’s nose and sending him to the ground where he was quickly restrained by two crew members.
It was soon after that that Fanny appeared to reveal Cynthia, Dave’s wife, was dead, as well as Knight’s son. That’s when Knight cursed the circus. Titus had only ever known two people strong enough to lace the right words together with the right amount of intention to create a true curse: Dave Raydon and Charles Knight.
Still restrained by the heavily motivated crew members Knight had drilled his gaze at the teal blue and neon green big top. He then said, “With the life force within me I curse any child ever born at Vagabond Circus to be unable to ever experience happiness. Since my child was stolen from me through lies and deceit none shall ever have what I cannot.”
This curse was in essence the reason that Dave had instituted rule number two: no dating among circus members, and therefore no breeding. Dave hadn’t looked afraid by the words his brother spoke which had felt as tangible to Titus as the hard ground under his feet. He’d never witnessed a curse, but felt this one’s magic lacing itself around everything that belonged to Vagabond Circus and knew it was real and to be feared. Dave, who had just lost his wife and learned his dead child was really not his, simply wiped a white handkerchief across his face until the fabric was all red with blood. Not an ounce of emotion slipped from the short man’s demeanor. It was in stressful scenarios that Dave was always the calmest.
“And I vow that as long as I live, you, Charles Knight, my once beloved brother, shall never step foot on the grounds of Vagabond Circus without experiencing your own mind-numbing torture,” Dave said, producing his own curse. And again Titus felt those words like a monumental gust of wind and knew that they carried a power not to be ignored.
And if that wasn’t enough, then Knight changed. First there was a twitch at the side of his face, then a grimace, and then his legs dropped under him, making it so the crew members restraining him were suddenly holding him up. He let out a loud yelp of pain. “Stop this!” he yelled to his brother.
“You know exactly how to stop it,” Dave said and then directed his eyes to the crew members on either side of Knight. “You can release him. My brother will no longer be a threat to anyone at Vagabond Circus.”
And they did release the man, who almost fell to the ground. Knight caught himself with one hand, the other hand clamped onto his head. Pain shot out of him in the form of a groan.
“Now you feel what it is you do to others,” Dave said, head held high. “You will be punished by it the longer you stay here.”
Knight looked up at his brother, murder in his eyes, blood covering his shattered nose. Then he pushed himself up and gradually, painstakingly, turned and walked with great effort in the opposite direction. Each step seemed to
get easier for him as he neared the edges of the circus grounds. Titus and Fanny had exchanged bemused expressions, both wondering if what they’d seen had been real. Neither knew curses really existed until that day, but after that day neither would ever doubt it.
Titus turned to Dave, and he still appeared calm as he watched his brother retreat. But it wasn’t the cool expression in Dave’s face that gave Titus pause. Dave’s face, which Titus knew well, was now different, aged. It wasn’t just the dried blood. There were new wrinkles, more grays in his light brown hair. The curse had taken years from him, his very life force. But Dave had cast the curse to protect Vagabond Circus. Knight had cast his curse to punish the circus.
Titus then turned and realized Knight had finally disappeared from view. He wouldn’t see that man again for almost twenty years. But Dave’s curse had been very clear. As long as I’m alive you shall not set foot on Vagabond Circus grounds. And now Dave was dead and Knight had nothing stopping him from taking what he always wanted. He’d always wanted what Dave had: his wife, his child, and his circus.
“I will not run,” Titus said out loud, in his empty trailer. He still stood in the center of the main room, but now a little straighter. “I will face this. I won’t cower. I won’t be defeated. I will bring Knight down.” Then he looked up to the ceiling, but in his mind’s eye he saw the heavens. “For you, old friend, I’ll take your brother down.”
