“I’d tell you my name, but you already know it. Which is creepy. And makes you, ipso facto, a creep.” She smiled sweetly at him. Her sarcasm was about as subtle as a truck.
He shrugged again and smiled back at her. “Nothing to be done about it, I suppose. Well, here’s your ticket. Now go on in, Cora.” As she began to walk away, he called after her. “Oh! One last thing.” When she turned, his expression was unusually serious. “Stay away from Simon. I’m not kidding. Stay the hell away from Simon, whatever you do.”
“Who’s Simon?” She raised an eyebrow.
“You’ve already met.” He turned back to the line of people in front of him.
She supposed that meant she was dismissed. She shook her head. Weird man. Weird Faire. Weird everything.
Taking her ticket to the turnstile, she gave it to the creepy clown who was ripping them in half. She stepped through, thanked the man—or woman, it was hard to tell with the baggy clothing and their masks—and headed inside the Faire. Clowns are a little creepy, Emily. I’ll give you that. At least these ones are, anyway.
Swiveling her camera around, she flicked the switch to turn it on, took the cap off the lens, and lifted it. The old-fashioned merry-go-round by the entrance was beautiful, and it looked great against the backdrop of the white observation tower and the brightly colored tents and food stalls.
She was excited to snap some shots at sundown. It felt good to take photos of something interesting. It just felt good to brush off her equipment and remember what it was like to do it for a living, period. But what followed was the bittersweet reminder that those days were gone.
Texting her friends, she let them know she was here and inside the park.
Trent responded again in a private message. “Wanted to see the freaks. Lisa pitched a fit. Heading to the lame puppet show instead. Fuck me.”
“That’s Ludwig’s job,” she texted back.
“LOL yeaaaah.”
She shook her head and sighed. Trent liked Lisa well enough, but resented Robert and her children for always “ruining things” when they were around. He never felt bad when Lisa couldn’t come out anymore. It was a shame, but that was what happened when people had kids, she supposed.
Kids. She wasn’t interested. Never had been. And now, it wasn’t like she could. Oh, she was biologically capable, she was sure—but raising kids with her illness was a recipe for a nightmare. She had a hard time picking things up without pulling her joints out of place as it was. Not to mention, she’d probably pass her syndrome on, and that wasn’t something she’d wish on her worst enemy. Well, maybe the jerk in the tunnel, now that she thought about it.
And after her relationship with her ex had ended so horribly, she didn’t even have anybody in her life she wanted to be with, let alone have kids with. It just wasn’t for her. Not that it kept her mom from asking. Mom had moved to Florida a few years prior to be with her sister after Dad died. Cora never realized how much her dad must have kept her mother from pestering her about getting married and having kids. Now that he was gone, there was nobody to tell her not to. The emails and calls were bi-weekly.
She shrugged it off, as she did everybody else’s comments about her being alone. She just wasn’t ready. And she didn’t care if people understood that or not.
It took her a while to find the right tent—after asking directions—but she finally got there. It was about a hundred feet in diameter and maybe thirty tall. It was a big structure, composed entirely of bold black and red stripes. A wood façade around the entrance advertised the show as “Wonders Beyond Imagining! Watch The Puppeteer Bring Your Wildest Dreams To Life!”
Great. Creepy puppets. That sounded “fun.” She saw her friends gathered in a small clump outside the entrance. Walking up, she smiled. “Hey, guys!”
“Cor-Cor!” Jane ran from Lisa and hug-tackled Cora’s legs. Lisa’s little girl loved Cora, and vice versa. While Cora didn’t want kids, she liked them. Especially when she could give them back. She always looked forward to babysitting for Lisa.
Tom, Lisa’s son, was more reserved, and just shyly waved from where he was standing by his father, holding his dad’s hand. Jane was five, and Tom was three, and it was fun to see them growing up and developing personalities. Jane clearly took after Lisa, and Tom after his father.
“Hey there, Janey!” She ruffled the little girl’s hair and smiled. “Are you enjoying the carnival so far?”
“Uh-huh. I wanna go on the big rides, but Momma said no.” Jane pouted. “Said I wasn’t old enough.”
“She’s right. You’d fall out. We can’t have that.” Cora chuckled and smiled at Lisa, who smiled back at her. “We can take you on the rides made for people your size, though. After the puppet show, maybe.”
Jane clapped her hands and smiled up at her mother. “Can we? Please? Please?”
“They have kiddie rides here?” Lisa asked.
“Yeah. I saw a few farther into the park yesterday.”
Trent was standing there, clearly fidgety. “I’ll stick around to see the puppets, but then I’m going to meet up with my friend. He said his last show ends at eight.”
Robert rolled his eyes. He knew what the word “friend” meant. Luckily, it didn’t seem like anyone else caught it. Emily was too busy surfing around on her phone, and Lisa was distracted with Jane’s exuberance.
“Can we? Can we please?” Jane wasn’t going to give up the idea of climbing into a metal death trap on rails. “Momma, please?”
“Okay, sweetheart.” Lisa conceded a battle that hadn’t ever really started. But that didn’t stop her daughter from screeching happily in victory—a sound that made Trent wince—and hug Cora’s leg again.
“Let’s go in and get a seat. The show’s going to start soon,” Robert said as he walked into the tent, pulling his son along gently by the hand. Jane let go of her leg to chase after them, not wanting to be second in line to anything.
Cora shook her head with a smile and walked in after them. She fell into step with Trent. “Be nice, T-bag.”
“What? I’m being perfectly nice.” He scoffed and muttered to her so nobody else could hear. “It’s not my fault they get in the way.”
“If there’s one thing I know, it’s that nothing gets in your way.” She nudged him in the arm with her elbow.
He smiled broadly. “Sing it, sister.”
As they entered the tent, she could hear the murmur of people. For a puppet show, there was a big crowd. She hoped they could get seats where the kids could see.
And there, just standing on the inside of the flap, was a man. He was tall, wearing an elaborate suit. It was bright red with black pinstripes and screamed of an age that was long since gone, mixed with an eccentric design she knew had never been in fashion. It cut his already imposing figure into sharp angles and drastic lines.
Before she could get a good look at him in the dim light of the tent, he bowed gracefully and gestured his hand wide.
It was his voice that gave her the first hint of danger.
“Welcome to my show. Please, take a seat wherever you like. We’re about to begin. I do hope you enjoy…”