by Jeff Sutton
"Taber, Taber," Jedro called vainly. He dashed forward, knowing he was too late. Horror speeded his steps. Drawing near the lion, he heard shouts coming from the entrance to the tent. Frightened, he halted. Standing astride The Strangler's body, Taber swung his head around, gazing toward the passageway that led into the ring. His tail twitched angrily.
Jedro sprinted toward the ringside fence. Reaching it, he leaped upward, grasped the top and pulled himself over, dropping into the bleachers. Looking back, he saw several figures burst from the passageway that led to the ring.
Jason Hart! Following the lion tamer's tall figure was Corky.
"Watch it, Taber's loose," shouted the lion tamer. Waving Corky back, he dashed toward the big cat. "He's got someone!" His strident voice quavered with horror.
"The lion's loose," hollered Corky. He fled back into the passageway, screaming wildly. "The lion's loose! The lion's loose!" His frantic yells filled the tent.
Jedro scrambled to the top mow of bleachers and looked back. Halting half a dozen yards from the big cat, the lion tamer was making shooing motions with his hands. Under the cone of yellow light, in the emptiness of the big tent, he presented a figure of stark loneliness.
His forepaws resting on The Strangler's lumpy body, Taber glared at the lion tamer. Jedro desperately wanted to help, yet knew there was nothing he could do. Nevertheless he took a moment to admire Jason Hart's courage before dropping into the dark passageway behind the bleachers.
His feet struck the sawdust and he bounded up, racing toward the main entrance. Through the slashing rain he saw a dozen or so figures boiling out from the mess tent. His throat constricted at sight of The Tattooed Man's gaudy face. Head down, Faust was running behind him.
At that instant the carnival owner looked up, spotted Jedro, and shouted. Jedro raced toward the maze of wagons that cluttered the muddy field behind the sawdust Street. A quick glance backward revealed that The Tattooed
Man had veered his steps, now was racing toward him. The sight brought a surge of fear.
Dodging among the wagons, he wondered frantically where he could hide. He was despairing when he saw Twisto, The Contortionist, peering out from a black interior. Driven by fear, Jedro raced toward him.
Twisto leaned farther out. "What's wrong?" he called tersely.
"The Tattooed Man's after me," gasped Jedro. His teeth chattered with fright.
"Here," Twisto commanded sharply. Reaching down, he grasped Jedro's wrist and hauled him inside. "Stay out of sight," he instructed. Crouched in a gloomy corner of the wagon, Jedro heard The Tattooed Man run up.
"See that kid around here?" he barked.
"Someone splashed by in a big hurry." Twisto jabbed toward a grove of trees beyond the carnival grounds. "He ran that way."
When The Tattooed Man departed, striding swiftly toward the woods, Twisto looked around.
"What's the trouble, kid?"
"I don't know." Jedro fought to control his trembling.
"I won't ask, but Gurdon's bad medicine." He shook his head. "You'd better stay in hiding until things calm down."
"I have to get out of here. He might search the wagons."
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"That bad, eh?"
"I'm afraid it is." he admitted.
"Where can you go, kid?"
"I don't know." Jedro edged forward to view The Tattooed Man's retreating figure. "I'll have to leave the carnival ."
"That's tough." Twisto stroked his jaw. "Need money?"
He shook his head.
"He's a hard man to shake once he gets after you," warned Twisto. "He's a real man-hunter."
"I'll be okay if I can get away." He spoke with more assurance than he felt.
"You'd do better at night."
"I can't wait," he objected.
"Anyone else but Gurdon looking for you?"
Jedro licked his lips. "Maybe Barracuda or The Human Pincushion."
"Oh?" Twisto lifted his eyes.
"Taber got The Strangler," he blurted.
"Ahhh." The Contortionist drew the word out slowly, then smiled. "That's no great loss, kid."
"It was terrible."
"Not from the lion's standpoint. Did you leave the cage open?"
"Not exactly." He looked uncomfortably at the other.
"Something else, eh? Well, I won't ask."
Jedro felt a sudden urgency. "I'd better be going."
Twisto leaned out of the wagon to gaze toward the woods. "Head in the opposite direction," he instructed. "If Gurdon comes back, I'll send him somewhere else."
"Thank you," Jedro said humbly. He leaped from the wagon and started toward the booths lining the sawdust street.
"Take care of yourself, kid," Twisto called softly. Jedro acknowledged with a wave. Hurrying through the deep mud, he felt a glow of gratitude. He did have friends. Twisto, the lion tamer, Corky, Dum-Dum, The Snake Woman, Granny -- all were his friends. And Kathy. She was the best friend of all.
He reached the corner of the nearest booth and paused, looking around anxiously. A babble of voices came from the big tent. He hoped the lion tamer was safe, and that Taber had been gotten back into his cage without harm.
Memory of The Strangler's last terrible scream brought a shudder. But he couldn't think of those things now. He had to figure how he could elude The
Tattooed Man.
A light shone through The Snake Woman's rear window; another was visible in Granny's booth.
He knew he could hide at either place, but it would be risky. The Tattooed Man almost certainly would search both booths.
He gazed indecisively at the muddy scene. Memory of how The Tattooed Man had tracked Clement to his death burned brightly in his mind. How could he leave without being seen? It would be safer to hide until dark, circle the town, keep going. He'd have to run, run, run. But where could he hide until nightfall? Under the bleachers in the big tent? It would be dark and gloomy there, but thought of the proximity of Faust's trailer was frightening.
Despair tore at his mind. Unless he found a place soon, he was almost certain to be caught.
More people were becoming visible all the time. If the rain stopped, the roustabouts would be swarming everywhere to prepare the carnival for opening. Perhaps he should have remained with Twisto.
Sight of Barracuda and The Human Pincushion caused him to recoil.
Although neither had ever paid him the slightest attention, he couldn't forget that they had been Page 61
The Strangler's friends. He inched backward, then retreated more rapidly as another figure slogged through the mud close by. Pressed against the back of a booth, he waited. Chilled to the bone, he realized his clothes were already soaked.
His hand closed over the stone and he felt it grow warm. At times he wished he'd never seen it.
Yet if it weren't for the stone, he'd still be herding gran in the Ullan Hills. He would never have come to the carnival, would never have met Kathy or the lion tamer or any of the other wonderful people who had come into his life. Besides, the stone was meant to be his; Mr.
Clement had said that. Somehow his destiny was linked with it. But how? It was all very strange.
He glimpsed The Tattooed Man returning from the woods and trembled against the booth, scarcely daring to breathe. A trapped, hopeless feeling held him. To his intense relief, the lithe figure crossing the muddy field veered toward the main tent. Exhaling slowly, he felt the tumult within him subside.
"For goodness sake, why are you standing there in the rain?" The voice brought Jedro around with a start. Granny was peering at him from her doorway.
"Come in this minute before you get soaked to the skin," she commanded.
He hesitated, torn between the urge to flee and the prospect of finding a temporary haven.
"Hurry," she ordered impatiently, "I'm getting cold."
He reached a decision and moved toward her. "I guess I am kind of wet,"
he confessed.
"You'll catch your dea
th of cold," she scolded. Closing the door behind him, she asked severely,
"Are you in some kind of trouble?"
He nodded mutely.
"What is it, Jedro?" Her voice suddenly was kind.
"The Tattooed Man's after me," he confessed.
Her wrinkled face showed surprise. "What have you done now?"
"Nothing." he protested.
"Nothing." Granny sniffed. "Dry yourself and I'll get you something hot to drink." She went into the next room.
He got a towel and dried himself as best he could, then sat in front of her small electric heater.
Its warmth revived his flagging spirits. Listening to her bustling around in the adjoining room, he wondered what he should tell her. There wasn't much he could say without mentioning the stone, and he couldn't do that. Was she really telepathic, or was she a fake like Barracuda and The Stone Man? He shifted uneasily.
Granny brought back a steaming cup and a plate of cookies. Placing them on a small table, she pulled the electric heater closer. "The hot tea will keep you from getting a chill," she said.
"Gosh, thanks." He sipped the tea gratefully. Although it scalded his tongue and throat, he felt good. Granny sat across from him.
"Now what's this all about, Jedro?" Her ancient eyes fixed him severely.
"The Tattooed Man was chasing me." He set the cup down, fumbling with his thoughts.
"You said that," she reminded him. "Why in the world would he be chasing you?"
"I don't know," he protested.
"Don't fib to me, Jedro."
"Well, the lion got loose."
"What's that got to do with Gurdon chasing you?" She eyed him shrewdly.
"There's something you're not telling me, Jedro."
"It's all mixed up."
"Unmix it," she instructed primly.
"Well, The Strangler was chasing me, too."
"Just how many people were chasing you?"
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He smiled weakly. "At first, just The Strangler."
"Why, Jedro?"
"I don't know." He flushed, hoping she wasn't reading his mind. "He tore my wagon all up. I ran into the big tent to hide and he followed me, said he was going to break my arms and legs. I jumped into the lion cage to get away from him and..."
"It was unlocked?" she interrupted.
He nodded. "Taber got out."
Granny smacked her lips. "I imagine that The Strangler didn't wait around very long."
Jedro's eyes moved up. "Taber killed him."
"How terrible!"
"I know he was your friend," he cried miserably.
"Yes, he was a friend." Granny shook her head sorrowfully. "But I try to be friends with everyone, Jedro. I know that The Strangler had his faults, frightful ones, but I could never find it in my heart to condemn him. He was a victim of genetics; it wasn't his fault that he was stupid.
You can't blame a man for what nature does to him, Jedro."
"He didn't have to be mean," he protested.
"He knew he wasn't very bright," she answered. "What happens when everyone calls you stupid all your life? You strike back. That's what The
Strangler did; his cruelty was a form of vengeance against the world. But I couldn't blame him any more than I could blame The Pig-Faced Boy for his misfortune."
"I never thought of it that way," he confessed.
"I tried to help The Strangler. I always told him that he should glory in his strength, that people would respect him for it. I told him that it wasn't necessary to be cruel. I tried to make him see that, Jedro. But if he failed, the failure was mine. I couldn't make him understand."
"You're awfully good," he exclaimed impulsively.
"Just an old woman, Jedro. I've skimmed the top from life, now I'm walking softly toward my grave. Yet I do what I can. I believe that people should try to help and understand each other.
I've tried to make that my guiding principle. I know it sounds maudlin, but humans are alone in this universe. We have only one another."
"I'm sorry I didn't understand him," he mumbled.
"I hope he'll be better accepted where he is now than he was here," she observed wistfully. Her face perked up. "What did you do when that happened?"
"Got scared and ran," he confessed. "The Tattooed Man saw me coming out of the tent and started chasing me."
"Before he knew what had happened?"
"Well, yes," he admitted lamely.
"Why, Jedro?"
"I can't tell you," he exclaimed.
"He was after something, wasn't he? So was The Strangler." She nodded emphatically. "You don't have to be afraid to tell me, Jedro."
"I'm not afraid," he said.
"Then what were they after?"
"I can't tell you."
"Can't or won't?"
"Won't," he answered miserably. He looked down at his cup to keep from meeting her eyes.
Was she really telepathic? The question returned. He'd accepted the possibility once, now he felt a doubt. She certainly wouldn't be asking all the questions if she knew the answers.
"Try a cookie," suggested Granny. "They're good."
"Thanks," he mumbled. Munching on one, he wished he could tell her the whole story. Perhaps Page 63
she would know what he should do. But he couldn't tell her about the stone. He hadn't even told Kathy.
"You have to learn to trust people," she observed gently. "A person can't shoulder all his worries alone. Some are simply too big. You'd be surprised at how many people would be glad to help you, Jedro. You have lots of friends."
"I know that," he admitted.
"Mostly they're the nicest people you'd ever want to know. You don't find many like Gurdon."
"He scares me," he admitted. "So did The Strangler."
"Hmmmph, he was a bluff for all his strength."
"He was?" he asked in amazement.
"He ran from that lion, didn't he?" Granny looked indignant. "Those cats are gentle. If he hadn't gotten scared and scooted off, it's likely Taber wouldn't have noticed him."
Jedro nodded numbly, his protest stilled by the memory of seeing Granny petting the lions through the bars. With all that, he knew that not everyone could get away with it. First they had to trust the lions; that seemed the most important thing.
Finished with the tea and cookies, he went to the window. His vision obscured by the slanting rain, he studied the nearer wagons but could see no sign of life. He turned back; Granny was watching him.
"I'd better go," he said huskily.
"You stay right here," she instructed. "I'm not going to let you go out and catch your death of cold."
He asked uneasily, "What if The Tattooed Man comes looking for me?"
"I won't let him in." She went into the other room and returned with a raincoat and plastic hat.
"Where are you going?" he asked anxiously.
"To see what that painted devil's up to. Now don't you fret. Just sit near the heater until your clothes get dry." She opened the door and went outside. Staring through the window, he watched her plod through the mud toward the main tent.
He returned to the heater, pondering his plight. Although he felt safe, he had the uneasy feeling of prolonging the danger. The rain was a shield; he should make the break now. Or was The Tattooed Man waiting for him to do just that? Night would be better, he decided. If he left in the late dusk, he'd have hours and hours of darkness. By the time Klore rose, he could be far away.
After a while Granny returned. She shook the rain from her hat and coat and hung them on a peg before drying her face and hands. Next she removed her muddy shoes.
He asked edgily, "What did you find out?"
"Taber's back in his cage."
"He didn't get hurt, did he?"
She shook her head. "They shot him with a tranquilizer dart. He's already up and around."
"How about The Tattooed Man?"
"He's looking for you." She smiled cheerfully. "He's turning the place upsi
de down."
Jedro leaped to his feet. "I've got to get out of here."
"And have him catch you?" She shook her head. "He has the field watched.
That's what I went to find out. He sent Barracuda and The Human Pincushion to watch the roads. You stay right here where it's safe."
"Safe," he echoed dolefully.
"Safer than anywhere," she replied. "Besides, I owe you an eternal debt of gratitude for removing that horrible snake. I was frightened stiff."
"Shucks, Caesar's tame." He looked at her. "Suppose he does come?"
"Don't you fret, Jedro. I can handle Gurdon."
"How?"
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"I'll put a hex on him."
"Can you do that?"
"No, but if he thinks I can, it's the same thing."
"I still can't remain here forever."
"It won't be long, Jedro."
"How do you know?"
"Just a feeling." She smiled. "Youth is always impetuous, always in a rush. You have to learn to take the hours as they come, one at a time. When you're young, you race through them; when you get older, you try to stretch
them out. I know, Jedro, I've seen both the short hours and the long hours.
It's the speed of youth that makes youth so fleeting."
"I'm not in that much of a hurry."
"But you are," she countered. "You're racing ahead of your thoughts. You have to slow down, let your thinking catch up with you. You have to learn patience. That's one of the most important things in life."
"Patience," he echoed. He returned to the window to view the slanting rain. "I'll have to get out of here tonight."
"Tonight is ten hours away," she reminded. "Sit down and I'll bring the almond bowl."
10
GERALD FAUST gazed intently at The Strangler's bloody body. Sprawled grotesquely under the cone of yellow light, it appeared sodden and lumpish.
The piglike eyes stared into nothing. The mouth hung loosely agape; the coarse face still mirrored the abject terror the performer had felt at the instant of death.
Faust's thoughts were studied.
