136 submissions
Synopsis: Jack is introduced to and becomes used to the person that will make the most difference in his life. He is forced to make a tough decision after making one huge stupid one.
Author's Note: Sorry that there has been so much time between the last post and this one. Writers are temperamental and lazy. Very lazy. But I have edited the last seven chapters to make them sparkly-clean and everything is correct and wonderful, the way that I want. My desire to write was kick-started again and I am happy to announce my intentions to finish this story. Whenever it's finished, that's when it's finished. So, as always, sit back and enjoy.
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Chapter 8: Under the Big Top World
Rayne’s clawed fingers reach in next to my shirt and grab around for awhile, feeling along the leather-like material that has been draped over my slim frame. Finally the furred hand knocks into the side of the needle and she grabs it with the edges of her thick claws and pulls it in, making sure to miss my body in the process.
The back of her hand knocks against my shirt and I stumble to the side, but quickly find Rayne’s body almost wrapping around me to keep me from moving. She grumbles and I look down to her. Her eyes are still upon the huge needle which she sews little pockets onto the inside of this huge, black jacket with. But I can see her ears roll back and her lips purse up in annoyance.
I sigh and try to stand as still as I can, not wanting that needle making new friends with my kidneys and liver. As she pulls the needle back out through the trench coat she stole from a different tent, yet another fist-size pouch is pulled taut against the old, raggedy material.
Rayne has somehow convinced me that I should perform in tonight’s show with her. I told her no and she begged and I told her no again and it went on from there and . . . damned women, you can’t get your own way. I said yes when she kept annoying the hell out of me and she was then satisfied, for awhile at least.
I don’t understand why she wants me to perform with her. I would be out in the open and who the hell knows what Blackjack will think. He would most likely lose his mind and turn me into a rat or something else that would entertain him the most. Yeah, into a rat and then dangle me over an open fire. I bet he has a sick sense of humor.
Rayne gets close to me again with that four inch needle and I quickly take a step away when it almost goes through my shirt. She growls again at me and I steady myself. Rolling my eyes, I look down to her and see that her ears are still against the back of her head and her eyes are intent upon the work in her hands.
“If you don’t stay still I’m going to stick you with a pin.” She tells me.
“Well it would be a lot easier if that needle wouldn’t introduce itself to me every three seconds, Rayne.” I tell her. “Why do you even want me to go out there with you in the first place? Blackjack’s sure to see me and then it’ll be hell for me.”
“I want you out there because Blackjack may be an insufferable prick, but if you do well, he’ll be more inclined not to have you burned alive.” Rayne replies, almost chuckling near the end.
“This is damned stupid.” I comment.
Rayne pulls the needle away from my body until the string that it guides through the coat is taut. Then she leans forward and, having already tied the line using the edges of her claws, cuts the string almost against the coat with her teeth. She lowers the needle to the surface of the crate that I’ve been standing on and then wipes her hand.
“I’m done.”
“Finally,” I loudly say
Stepping down off of the crate, I stretch my arms and legs, even going so far as to pull my tail up until the muscles there stretch as well. It still all feels strange to me, but, I’ve almost simply accepted what it is and have taken it from there. Rayne stands up behind me and begins to clean up the things that she’s been using to sew the coat.
The huge crate that she took from the corner is pushed back to its normal place and all her sewing equipment is placed back into a cigar box and closed tight. I stand near the flap that leads through onto the darkening camp grounds and look out. My mind isn’t here, it’s far away. I know I can’t stay here, I have to make a break for it before that evil Blackjack snares me permanently, for I know he doesn’t plan on letting me free or fulfilling his side of the bargain.
I’ve made a plan as to how to get out of here. I saw that there was an axe in one of the tents up the row here. If I could snatch it without being noticed, I could place it down into one of the cloth holsters inside my new coat and then walk through the grounds unnoticed. That trailer won’t take too much of a beating before it gives up and I’m able to get my things.
After that it won’t be hard for me to hotwire one of the trucks or cars that sits on the fairgrounds, and I know I have a good selection for me to spend time shopping on. Once all the attention is on the show, even Blackjack’s eyes, I can do everything without being noticed and be a hundred miles away before that cheesy twenties cartoon villain knows I’m gone.
“Where are you from?” Rayne asks.
My mind comes down out of the air where it had been hanging. I shake my head, my fur bouncing around on my face and making a strange sensation in my mind. Lowering my eyes to my legs, I shrug my shoulders.
“The east,” I reply.
“What’s it like out there?”
“It’s a damned miserable place.”
“Do you have a job?”
“Yeah,”
“What kind?”
“I work with cars.”
“And what’s that like?”
I sigh audibly and then rub my face with one of my hands, making sure that my rough paw pads touches every inch of my new fur before I drop it back to my side.
“You ask a lot of stupid questions, don’t you?” I ask her.
“Yeah, I like to know about the people I work with. What’s the problem?”
I shrug my shoulders and shake my head, becoming slightly irritated that I’ve become a backboard for her game of dart questions. Rayne is silent for the longest time and her tent is similarly quiet. Soon, I begin to think about escaping again, figuring she’s done interviewing me.
“What about your parents? Is there anybody out there that will notice you’re gone?” She asks me.
I suddenly swing around and look to her, seeing her standing over near her bed where she holds onto a uniform with her one hand and a big cloth sack about the size of a watermelon with the other. Her body isn’t facing me, but her head is turned directly towards me. Her eyes are wide and her mouth is hanging open just slightly. I shove my hands down into my pockets and shift my weight onto one leg.
“Yeah, my ma,” I say back quietly. “She’s all alone. She’s what I have left in this world and I need to get home before too damned long. I don’t even know what the hell I’m doing here.”
Before long I find myself looking down at the ground again, watching the grass move about around my paws, and intentionally pushing it around with my toes just to have something to do. Nausea rises in my stomach. My hands leave my pockets and begin to work around at nothing really. One hand rubs the back of my head while the other pulls at a piece of loose string on my shirt. Rayne is quiet for a long time and then I hear her hand wrapping around that fancy uniform of hers.
“Yeah, my mom’s all alone a long way from here. But I haven’t seen her since I was really little. I left myself before things hit the wall. Why did you leave?” She comments.
“I didn’t leave,” I say and look up at her, “I was forced out here against my will. I don’t want to be here, I had no desire to be here and I’ll fucking leave as soon as I can!”
Rayne’s head lifts up and her eyes widen. I realize how angry I became by the end of my last comment and look down towards the ground again, playing with the grass continually, having something to do, something to focus on other than what is right here. Rayne steps forward, dropping her uniform and bag back onto the top of her cleanly-made and straight bed.
“Why are you out here, then?” She asks me, sounding annoyed.
“It’s none of your damned business.”
Rayne strides into this half of her tent and soon she is waltzing around me, her body as straight as an arrow, but her head turned towards me and her eyes pinned upon me. Although I do not lift my head, I watch her come near to me and begin to circle me like a coyote at the kill.
“Who are you staying with?”
“I’m not telling you!” I say loudly and lift my head up and look away from her.
Rayne pauses for a second but I can almost see the words emerging from her lips as she continues.
“What did you ask from Blackjack!?”
“Fuck you! I didn’t invite you into my damned life; now leave me the hell alone!” I jerk my head around and look directly at her.
She stops walking around me and stares to me. Her eyes, the blue sapphires in white lakes, gyrate around and soon I see them begin to tear up, her eyebrows lifting up high. Her body, once straight and strong, becomes weak and she bows over, wrapping her arms and tail around herself before she quickly darts forward.
Pushing her way past me, she bolts out into the coming darkness and I listen to her stalking away without even turning my head. My anger begins to swell down into my stomach, the blackened pit from which it had come. A tart, bitter taste and hollow, cold smell of sadness begins to replace it.
I listen to Rayne running away from her own tent and soon she is out of earshot. Blinking rapidly, I lower my eyes to the ground, thoughts beginning to bubble and boil behind my eyes. Was I sorry about what I said to her? I don’t know but I feel strange. My legs feel weak, my heart feels hot and everything else seems cold.
Should I go after her? No, no, I can’t, she’s not my problem. But is she? No, I don’t think so. I have to get out of here, she chose to come here, but I didn’t! I need to get out of here before Blackjack makes my stay permanent, like he did for so many other people here. I have to get that axe and go get my stuff; I have to do it quickly. I have to do it now!
Shoving my hands down into the outside pockets, I turn and march out of the tent and turn left, going up through the long corridor lined with private tents. Inside some are lighted but the residents are quiet, having no doubt heard me above the rest of the normal noises. The others are dark and empty.
I hold my arms in against my body, my tail hugs my backend and I watch the ground below me, not wishing to lift my head up and meet any disapproving eyes, or seem as if I were doing something illicit or suspicious. I lick my lips constantly, feeling them to be dry even when they aren’t. My eyes begin to hurt as well, but from what, I have no idea.
Focusing on the axe and the trailer, I look up to the tent that holds the thing I need and see that it is dark and empty. The ones that stand around it are likewise, which is lucky for me. But every time I begin to visualize the trailer, I begin to think about what I said and I get confused. I even stop walking once and think again to myself if I’d done something wrong.
I shake it off, though, wondering why I care. It isn’t like I know her, she’s not my . . . No, no don’t even say that stupid word! She is not my problem; the only thing I should worry about is getting the hell out of here. I need to get home and stop Mom from doing the worst thing she could possibly do. Maybe I can even maul Dick in the process. Yeah, that’ll be fun, won’t it?
Coming down out of my personal fantasy, I look ahead and see that I’ve stopped walking. My mind clears and I press forward. Looking over my shoulder and checking for a moment to enter, I find the entire street devoid of life. I step into the tent where the man that juggles sharpened weapons and firearms for a living resides. Grabbing a fire axe from near the door, I open my coat and drop the handle down through a cloth loop on the inside.
Letting the coat fall shut, I back out of the tent and begin to walk in the opposite direction. It isn’t far from where I am to that trailer. Rayne told me about it earlier. She said she thinks there may be a lot of valuable stuff in there, stuff from across the ages. She said it would be an antique dealer’s dream. She said it was in this beautiful airstream that Blackjack apparently won in a bet and it had a huge padlock on the front door.
The noise that the public makes is immense and I can even make out distinct voices from here. Most of the employee’s section of the grounds is silent. The carnies are in the big top already preparing for their acts, dances and songs. I didn’t meet a lot of the people here. Rayne led us away from the grounds or kept me away from the other people.
But some of the people that I did see seemed very dull and fake. It’s as if working with Blackjack for that many years has basically turned them into zombies. But I’m not sure why, they aren’t monsters like Rayne and I. But still, their eyes were milky white and they walk seemingly without will or purpose.
Shaking my head, I simply continue onwards. I suppose that is just yet another reason why I should get out of here as quickly as I can, before Blackjack decides he’ll change his mind and screw me royally. Passing tent after tent, I hurry through the darkening street. My eyes search around, hoping not to meet anyone.
But the only people I see are those inside their tent, getting dressed and becoming ready for their performances. As I round the corner at the end of the long street, I suddenly stop and stand still. Ahead I can hear footsteps coming towards me and I get an intense feeling of fright and distrust.
Jerking my head to the side, I look to a gap between two tents and slowly step off of the road, sliding in well into the hollow opening. I step far back until no light can touch my body and then I am still, quiet. I swallow hard and wait, listening to the rapid footsteps coming my way.
“I’m sorry, Blackjack, I truly am.” I hear Rayne’s voice, clear as a bell.
“I know you are sorry, Quicksilver, it’s not you that I am angry at.” Blackjack’s voice replies. “That boy escaped my fun earlier than I wished and I want to punish him. I’m not going to let his actions go unpunished.”
“No, no, please, it wasn’t his fault!” Rayne suddenly yells. “I led him away from the rocks!”
I hear the footsteps fade to a close and then, looking out of my hiding place, sliding black along the vinyl tent until I can poke my head out, I see two shadows on the ground moving about. Rayne’s shadow is just barely shorter than Blackjack’s on the ground, but his shadow has a billowing cape behind its back and a tall top hat on his head. It’s easy to distinguish one from the other.
Blackjack turns towards Rayne and looks down at her, turning his head slowly.
“I am not angry over my little trick. You know that there have been people who have figured it out quicker than others. Then there are the ones that spend the entire day transporting worthless stone. Those are the ones that are the most amusing.” Blackjack rambles. “I was planning on having the boy clean out my tent, scrubbing the floor with a toothbrush or whatever other task I can dream up for him. I need to know where he is.”
Rayne is silent for the longest time. I watch her muzzle dip down as she looks to the ground. Her tail fidgets around behind her back and her ears move around as if she is thinking hard about something. Blackjack is silent, watching her from above.
“Come now,” he quickly says, “tell me where the boy is. I know you must have had some hand in leading him around my little kingdom so I implore that you hand him over to me.”
I mouth the word no and shake my head. I watch the two shadows and wonder what Rayne will do. She definitely doesn’t have any incentive to keep my location a secret. Hell, I think I really screwed up when I yelled at her like that. But still she is silent, staring at the ground while her evil boss waits.
“I . . . I—I don’t know where he is.” She says and lifts her head slowly upwards. “We don’t exactly like each other anymore.”
Blackjack chuckles a little bit, as if he’s getting a kick out of the whole situation. I watch him reel back in laughter and then look down towards Rayne, who stands with her head dipped towards the ground. The end of her tail shoots back and forth showing how obviously uncomfortable by his presence she is. Her hair bobs around on her head and she licks her lips.
“We had a fight.” She slowly says.
Blackjack laughs at this as well. I can see his body convulse with his laughter, his twisted amusement in the pain of others. He holds his chest and then stands akimbo.
“And then he stalked off, upset, you know?” Rayne continues. “I don’t know where he is anymore.” I can almost hear a little fake crying in her throat. “I just don’t know.”
“All right, my little flower, run along.” Blackjack suddenly says, to my surprise. “I will search for him, but I don’t want you to be late for your performance. A crowd can only be controlled for a small period of time. I will make sure to be back to see the lovely performance as quickly as I can.”
“Yes sir.” Rayne says.
He chuckles, his shadow turns and then he begins to stride off. Soon his shadow disappears and then the sound of his shoes disappears into the calm of the night. Rayne remains in the middle of the street for awhile. She shivers and then sighs audibly, her head turning towards the ground.
She spits onto the ground in obvious anger and recovering comfort. Then she quickly stalks off into the distance, her footsteps soon dissipating into the far-off sounds of a carnival at work. No doubt she’s gone back to her tent to get her stuff and go to the show. I stay simply hidden in the darkness for awhile.
Why did she protect me? I wonder. Slowly I step out of the dark hiding place and march out into the center of the dirt road leading towards the big top. In the stillness of the night, I stand in a wide stance and stare towards the red and white carnival tent at the center of this hellhole.
The bright lights fill the black sky and the tinny sound of carnival music covers the noise of the active stands and shuffling crowds outside. The cold air night prickles at my skin through my thick, gray fur and makes me huddle up against myself in that heavy coat. Finally the strange, cold, watery scent of the evening enters into my nose and stays there.
Why did she protect me? Why didn’t she just tell the truth and say that I was back at her tent with her? I had just done to her something that most other women would hold over me for years. But she just brushed it off and told a lie to the most powerful living man to keep me from being harmed. I don’t understand.
Turning my head to the right, I look up the street and see the trailer sitting just thirty feet away, it’s huge padlocked door beckoning me to bash it off and get inside. A pain in my chest demands me to go forward and find my way quickly and safely out of here. I mean, I know Blackjack will be busy! He’d never notice me!
But I can’t go. A strange, queasy feeling inside my chest, a slow and dull throbbing pain inside my ribcage wills me to stay here. Is it guilt? I don’t know, but whenever I think of leaving now and . . . abandoning Rayne, I feel the pain inside me. Something inside my gut doesn’t want me to just leave, but, I have to.
“What are you doing?” He asks me.
I look down to the ground and to the shadow which stretches out behind me. Then I turn my head and follow it all the way up to a machine where you can get a man to guess your weight and if he gets it wrong, you win a prize. The aluminum backboard just behind where you stand is shiny and clearly shows my own reflection.
“What the hell are you doing?” He demands of me, this time much angrier. “You’re just mere steps away from getting your jacket and boots back and minutes away from escaping . . . and you’re thinking about staying!”
Turning my body towards the machine, I walk towards it until he appears in it, sitting on the ground with his hands up onto the barrier keeping him on that side of the metal. His face is brutally angry and as red as a tomato. His dark brown eyes bore into me as usual. I stop about ten feet away and look to him, silently.
I think about what he is saying, the way that I always do. My eyes search the dusty ground below my paws for an answer and then I just shake my head. Standing up straight, I turn and begin towards the big top at the center of the camp. My footsteps are loud in the cool darkness.
“What . . . Where are you going?” He screams behind me. “Where the hell do you think you’re going? You’re throwing it all away, throwing it all away? I hope to God you have an idea as to what the hell you’re doing!”
I sigh audibly and cough, shaking my head as I stride forward with strength and determination. In truth I have no clue as to what I’m doing. Back east we call this ‘winging it’. But I’m determined to at least make right a huge wrong that I’ve inflicted upon somebody who did not deserve it.
“I hope you know you’re screwing it all up!”
“Shut up.” I whisper low to myself. “I have a show to do.”
Author's Note: Sorry that there has been so much time between the last post and this one. Writers are temperamental and lazy. Very lazy. But I have edited the last seven chapters to make them sparkly-clean and everything is correct and wonderful, the way that I want. My desire to write was kick-started again and I am happy to announce my intentions to finish this story. Whenever it's finished, that's when it's finished. So, as always, sit back and enjoy.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Chapter 8: Under the Big Top World
Rayne’s clawed fingers reach in next to my shirt and grab around for awhile, feeling along the leather-like material that has been draped over my slim frame. Finally the furred hand knocks into the side of the needle and she grabs it with the edges of her thick claws and pulls it in, making sure to miss my body in the process.
The back of her hand knocks against my shirt and I stumble to the side, but quickly find Rayne’s body almost wrapping around me to keep me from moving. She grumbles and I look down to her. Her eyes are still upon the huge needle which she sews little pockets onto the inside of this huge, black jacket with. But I can see her ears roll back and her lips purse up in annoyance.
I sigh and try to stand as still as I can, not wanting that needle making new friends with my kidneys and liver. As she pulls the needle back out through the trench coat she stole from a different tent, yet another fist-size pouch is pulled taut against the old, raggedy material.
Rayne has somehow convinced me that I should perform in tonight’s show with her. I told her no and she begged and I told her no again and it went on from there and . . . damned women, you can’t get your own way. I said yes when she kept annoying the hell out of me and she was then satisfied, for awhile at least.
I don’t understand why she wants me to perform with her. I would be out in the open and who the hell knows what Blackjack will think. He would most likely lose his mind and turn me into a rat or something else that would entertain him the most. Yeah, into a rat and then dangle me over an open fire. I bet he has a sick sense of humor.
Rayne gets close to me again with that four inch needle and I quickly take a step away when it almost goes through my shirt. She growls again at me and I steady myself. Rolling my eyes, I look down to her and see that her ears are still against the back of her head and her eyes are intent upon the work in her hands.
“If you don’t stay still I’m going to stick you with a pin.” She tells me.
“Well it would be a lot easier if that needle wouldn’t introduce itself to me every three seconds, Rayne.” I tell her. “Why do you even want me to go out there with you in the first place? Blackjack’s sure to see me and then it’ll be hell for me.”
“I want you out there because Blackjack may be an insufferable prick, but if you do well, he’ll be more inclined not to have you burned alive.” Rayne replies, almost chuckling near the end.
“This is damned stupid.” I comment.
Rayne pulls the needle away from my body until the string that it guides through the coat is taut. Then she leans forward and, having already tied the line using the edges of her claws, cuts the string almost against the coat with her teeth. She lowers the needle to the surface of the crate that I’ve been standing on and then wipes her hand.
“I’m done.”
“Finally,” I loudly say
Stepping down off of the crate, I stretch my arms and legs, even going so far as to pull my tail up until the muscles there stretch as well. It still all feels strange to me, but, I’ve almost simply accepted what it is and have taken it from there. Rayne stands up behind me and begins to clean up the things that she’s been using to sew the coat.
The huge crate that she took from the corner is pushed back to its normal place and all her sewing equipment is placed back into a cigar box and closed tight. I stand near the flap that leads through onto the darkening camp grounds and look out. My mind isn’t here, it’s far away. I know I can’t stay here, I have to make a break for it before that evil Blackjack snares me permanently, for I know he doesn’t plan on letting me free or fulfilling his side of the bargain.
I’ve made a plan as to how to get out of here. I saw that there was an axe in one of the tents up the row here. If I could snatch it without being noticed, I could place it down into one of the cloth holsters inside my new coat and then walk through the grounds unnoticed. That trailer won’t take too much of a beating before it gives up and I’m able to get my things.
After that it won’t be hard for me to hotwire one of the trucks or cars that sits on the fairgrounds, and I know I have a good selection for me to spend time shopping on. Once all the attention is on the show, even Blackjack’s eyes, I can do everything without being noticed and be a hundred miles away before that cheesy twenties cartoon villain knows I’m gone.
“Where are you from?” Rayne asks.
My mind comes down out of the air where it had been hanging. I shake my head, my fur bouncing around on my face and making a strange sensation in my mind. Lowering my eyes to my legs, I shrug my shoulders.
“The east,” I reply.
“What’s it like out there?”
“It’s a damned miserable place.”
“Do you have a job?”
“Yeah,”
“What kind?”
“I work with cars.”
“And what’s that like?”
I sigh audibly and then rub my face with one of my hands, making sure that my rough paw pads touches every inch of my new fur before I drop it back to my side.
“You ask a lot of stupid questions, don’t you?” I ask her.
“Yeah, I like to know about the people I work with. What’s the problem?”
I shrug my shoulders and shake my head, becoming slightly irritated that I’ve become a backboard for her game of dart questions. Rayne is silent for the longest time and her tent is similarly quiet. Soon, I begin to think about escaping again, figuring she’s done interviewing me.
“What about your parents? Is there anybody out there that will notice you’re gone?” She asks me.
I suddenly swing around and look to her, seeing her standing over near her bed where she holds onto a uniform with her one hand and a big cloth sack about the size of a watermelon with the other. Her body isn’t facing me, but her head is turned directly towards me. Her eyes are wide and her mouth is hanging open just slightly. I shove my hands down into my pockets and shift my weight onto one leg.
“Yeah, my ma,” I say back quietly. “She’s all alone. She’s what I have left in this world and I need to get home before too damned long. I don’t even know what the hell I’m doing here.”
Before long I find myself looking down at the ground again, watching the grass move about around my paws, and intentionally pushing it around with my toes just to have something to do. Nausea rises in my stomach. My hands leave my pockets and begin to work around at nothing really. One hand rubs the back of my head while the other pulls at a piece of loose string on my shirt. Rayne is quiet for a long time and then I hear her hand wrapping around that fancy uniform of hers.
“Yeah, my mom’s all alone a long way from here. But I haven’t seen her since I was really little. I left myself before things hit the wall. Why did you leave?” She comments.
“I didn’t leave,” I say and look up at her, “I was forced out here against my will. I don’t want to be here, I had no desire to be here and I’ll fucking leave as soon as I can!”
Rayne’s head lifts up and her eyes widen. I realize how angry I became by the end of my last comment and look down towards the ground again, playing with the grass continually, having something to do, something to focus on other than what is right here. Rayne steps forward, dropping her uniform and bag back onto the top of her cleanly-made and straight bed.
“Why are you out here, then?” She asks me, sounding annoyed.
“It’s none of your damned business.”
Rayne strides into this half of her tent and soon she is waltzing around me, her body as straight as an arrow, but her head turned towards me and her eyes pinned upon me. Although I do not lift my head, I watch her come near to me and begin to circle me like a coyote at the kill.
“Who are you staying with?”
“I’m not telling you!” I say loudly and lift my head up and look away from her.
Rayne pauses for a second but I can almost see the words emerging from her lips as she continues.
“What did you ask from Blackjack!?”
“Fuck you! I didn’t invite you into my damned life; now leave me the hell alone!” I jerk my head around and look directly at her.
She stops walking around me and stares to me. Her eyes, the blue sapphires in white lakes, gyrate around and soon I see them begin to tear up, her eyebrows lifting up high. Her body, once straight and strong, becomes weak and she bows over, wrapping her arms and tail around herself before she quickly darts forward.
Pushing her way past me, she bolts out into the coming darkness and I listen to her stalking away without even turning my head. My anger begins to swell down into my stomach, the blackened pit from which it had come. A tart, bitter taste and hollow, cold smell of sadness begins to replace it.
I listen to Rayne running away from her own tent and soon she is out of earshot. Blinking rapidly, I lower my eyes to the ground, thoughts beginning to bubble and boil behind my eyes. Was I sorry about what I said to her? I don’t know but I feel strange. My legs feel weak, my heart feels hot and everything else seems cold.
Should I go after her? No, no, I can’t, she’s not my problem. But is she? No, I don’t think so. I have to get out of here, she chose to come here, but I didn’t! I need to get out of here before Blackjack makes my stay permanent, like he did for so many other people here. I have to get that axe and go get my stuff; I have to do it quickly. I have to do it now!
Shoving my hands down into the outside pockets, I turn and march out of the tent and turn left, going up through the long corridor lined with private tents. Inside some are lighted but the residents are quiet, having no doubt heard me above the rest of the normal noises. The others are dark and empty.
I hold my arms in against my body, my tail hugs my backend and I watch the ground below me, not wishing to lift my head up and meet any disapproving eyes, or seem as if I were doing something illicit or suspicious. I lick my lips constantly, feeling them to be dry even when they aren’t. My eyes begin to hurt as well, but from what, I have no idea.
Focusing on the axe and the trailer, I look up to the tent that holds the thing I need and see that it is dark and empty. The ones that stand around it are likewise, which is lucky for me. But every time I begin to visualize the trailer, I begin to think about what I said and I get confused. I even stop walking once and think again to myself if I’d done something wrong.
I shake it off, though, wondering why I care. It isn’t like I know her, she’s not my . . . No, no don’t even say that stupid word! She is not my problem; the only thing I should worry about is getting the hell out of here. I need to get home and stop Mom from doing the worst thing she could possibly do. Maybe I can even maul Dick in the process. Yeah, that’ll be fun, won’t it?
Coming down out of my personal fantasy, I look ahead and see that I’ve stopped walking. My mind clears and I press forward. Looking over my shoulder and checking for a moment to enter, I find the entire street devoid of life. I step into the tent where the man that juggles sharpened weapons and firearms for a living resides. Grabbing a fire axe from near the door, I open my coat and drop the handle down through a cloth loop on the inside.
Letting the coat fall shut, I back out of the tent and begin to walk in the opposite direction. It isn’t far from where I am to that trailer. Rayne told me about it earlier. She said she thinks there may be a lot of valuable stuff in there, stuff from across the ages. She said it would be an antique dealer’s dream. She said it was in this beautiful airstream that Blackjack apparently won in a bet and it had a huge padlock on the front door.
The noise that the public makes is immense and I can even make out distinct voices from here. Most of the employee’s section of the grounds is silent. The carnies are in the big top already preparing for their acts, dances and songs. I didn’t meet a lot of the people here. Rayne led us away from the grounds or kept me away from the other people.
But some of the people that I did see seemed very dull and fake. It’s as if working with Blackjack for that many years has basically turned them into zombies. But I’m not sure why, they aren’t monsters like Rayne and I. But still, their eyes were milky white and they walk seemingly without will or purpose.
Shaking my head, I simply continue onwards. I suppose that is just yet another reason why I should get out of here as quickly as I can, before Blackjack decides he’ll change his mind and screw me royally. Passing tent after tent, I hurry through the darkening street. My eyes search around, hoping not to meet anyone.
But the only people I see are those inside their tent, getting dressed and becoming ready for their performances. As I round the corner at the end of the long street, I suddenly stop and stand still. Ahead I can hear footsteps coming towards me and I get an intense feeling of fright and distrust.
Jerking my head to the side, I look to a gap between two tents and slowly step off of the road, sliding in well into the hollow opening. I step far back until no light can touch my body and then I am still, quiet. I swallow hard and wait, listening to the rapid footsteps coming my way.
“I’m sorry, Blackjack, I truly am.” I hear Rayne’s voice, clear as a bell.
“I know you are sorry, Quicksilver, it’s not you that I am angry at.” Blackjack’s voice replies. “That boy escaped my fun earlier than I wished and I want to punish him. I’m not going to let his actions go unpunished.”
“No, no, please, it wasn’t his fault!” Rayne suddenly yells. “I led him away from the rocks!”
I hear the footsteps fade to a close and then, looking out of my hiding place, sliding black along the vinyl tent until I can poke my head out, I see two shadows on the ground moving about. Rayne’s shadow is just barely shorter than Blackjack’s on the ground, but his shadow has a billowing cape behind its back and a tall top hat on his head. It’s easy to distinguish one from the other.
Blackjack turns towards Rayne and looks down at her, turning his head slowly.
“I am not angry over my little trick. You know that there have been people who have figured it out quicker than others. Then there are the ones that spend the entire day transporting worthless stone. Those are the ones that are the most amusing.” Blackjack rambles. “I was planning on having the boy clean out my tent, scrubbing the floor with a toothbrush or whatever other task I can dream up for him. I need to know where he is.”
Rayne is silent for the longest time. I watch her muzzle dip down as she looks to the ground. Her tail fidgets around behind her back and her ears move around as if she is thinking hard about something. Blackjack is silent, watching her from above.
“Come now,” he quickly says, “tell me where the boy is. I know you must have had some hand in leading him around my little kingdom so I implore that you hand him over to me.”
I mouth the word no and shake my head. I watch the two shadows and wonder what Rayne will do. She definitely doesn’t have any incentive to keep my location a secret. Hell, I think I really screwed up when I yelled at her like that. But still she is silent, staring at the ground while her evil boss waits.
“I . . . I—I don’t know where he is.” She says and lifts her head slowly upwards. “We don’t exactly like each other anymore.”
Blackjack chuckles a little bit, as if he’s getting a kick out of the whole situation. I watch him reel back in laughter and then look down towards Rayne, who stands with her head dipped towards the ground. The end of her tail shoots back and forth showing how obviously uncomfortable by his presence she is. Her hair bobs around on her head and she licks her lips.
“We had a fight.” She slowly says.
Blackjack laughs at this as well. I can see his body convulse with his laughter, his twisted amusement in the pain of others. He holds his chest and then stands akimbo.
“And then he stalked off, upset, you know?” Rayne continues. “I don’t know where he is anymore.” I can almost hear a little fake crying in her throat. “I just don’t know.”
“All right, my little flower, run along.” Blackjack suddenly says, to my surprise. “I will search for him, but I don’t want you to be late for your performance. A crowd can only be controlled for a small period of time. I will make sure to be back to see the lovely performance as quickly as I can.”
“Yes sir.” Rayne says.
He chuckles, his shadow turns and then he begins to stride off. Soon his shadow disappears and then the sound of his shoes disappears into the calm of the night. Rayne remains in the middle of the street for awhile. She shivers and then sighs audibly, her head turning towards the ground.
She spits onto the ground in obvious anger and recovering comfort. Then she quickly stalks off into the distance, her footsteps soon dissipating into the far-off sounds of a carnival at work. No doubt she’s gone back to her tent to get her stuff and go to the show. I stay simply hidden in the darkness for awhile.
Why did she protect me? I wonder. Slowly I step out of the dark hiding place and march out into the center of the dirt road leading towards the big top. In the stillness of the night, I stand in a wide stance and stare towards the red and white carnival tent at the center of this hellhole.
The bright lights fill the black sky and the tinny sound of carnival music covers the noise of the active stands and shuffling crowds outside. The cold air night prickles at my skin through my thick, gray fur and makes me huddle up against myself in that heavy coat. Finally the strange, cold, watery scent of the evening enters into my nose and stays there.
Why did she protect me? Why didn’t she just tell the truth and say that I was back at her tent with her? I had just done to her something that most other women would hold over me for years. But she just brushed it off and told a lie to the most powerful living man to keep me from being harmed. I don’t understand.
Turning my head to the right, I look up the street and see the trailer sitting just thirty feet away, it’s huge padlocked door beckoning me to bash it off and get inside. A pain in my chest demands me to go forward and find my way quickly and safely out of here. I mean, I know Blackjack will be busy! He’d never notice me!
But I can’t go. A strange, queasy feeling inside my chest, a slow and dull throbbing pain inside my ribcage wills me to stay here. Is it guilt? I don’t know, but whenever I think of leaving now and . . . abandoning Rayne, I feel the pain inside me. Something inside my gut doesn’t want me to just leave, but, I have to.
“What are you doing?” He asks me.
I look down to the ground and to the shadow which stretches out behind me. Then I turn my head and follow it all the way up to a machine where you can get a man to guess your weight and if he gets it wrong, you win a prize. The aluminum backboard just behind where you stand is shiny and clearly shows my own reflection.
“What the hell are you doing?” He demands of me, this time much angrier. “You’re just mere steps away from getting your jacket and boots back and minutes away from escaping . . . and you’re thinking about staying!”
Turning my body towards the machine, I walk towards it until he appears in it, sitting on the ground with his hands up onto the barrier keeping him on that side of the metal. His face is brutally angry and as red as a tomato. His dark brown eyes bore into me as usual. I stop about ten feet away and look to him, silently.
I think about what he is saying, the way that I always do. My eyes search the dusty ground below my paws for an answer and then I just shake my head. Standing up straight, I turn and begin towards the big top at the center of the camp. My footsteps are loud in the cool darkness.
“What . . . Where are you going?” He screams behind me. “Where the hell do you think you’re going? You’re throwing it all away, throwing it all away? I hope to God you have an idea as to what the hell you’re doing!”
I sigh audibly and cough, shaking my head as I stride forward with strength and determination. In truth I have no clue as to what I’m doing. Back east we call this ‘winging it’. But I’m determined to at least make right a huge wrong that I’ve inflicted upon somebody who did not deserve it.
“I hope you know you’re screwing it all up!”
“Shut up.” I whisper low to myself. “I have a show to do.”
Category Story / Fantasy
Species Wolf
Size 119 x 120px
File Size 42.5 kB
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