Thread: Carnival: Shadows And Whispers Under The Big Top (Dane Stalling & darkangel76)

Clown Roald fingered the cloth of his new costume as Elspeth's trailer door shut behind her. He felt lighthearted, but thoughtful. Like singing, but not in jest. He walked once around the purple trailer, and wandered back to his fire and held the guitar, silent for a moment, thinking, remembering an ancient song. He began, tried some chords, then played slow and sweet and sang to himself and to the fire and to any gentle ears that might listen in the night Out of this wood do not desire to go Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt or no. I am a spirit of no common rate The summer still doth tend upon my state And I do love thee therefore, go with me I'll give thee fairies to attend on thee, And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep, And sing while thou on pressed flowers dost sleep. The voice in the song turned, then to other listeners. Roald changed words as he was accustomed, to fit his mood and his audience. He thought of the mysterious figures Elspeth's hands had stitched into the costume, unearthly things, and he sang again Be kind and courteous to this gentle lass Hop in her walks and gambol in her eyes Feed her with apricocks and dewberries, With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries The honey-bags steal from the humble-bees, And for night-tapers crop their waxen thighs And light them at the fiery glow-worm's eyes, To have my love to bed and to arise And pluck the wings from Painted butterflies To fan the moonbeams from her sleeping eyes Roald covered the bucket with a larger metal tub to snuff the fire and walked to his trailer, his guitar over his shoulder. The instrument would be his only nighttime companion, as it had been for many months. ---- Mairon took his hat off and winced as he waited for the trailer door to open, and when it did, he found himself facing a beautiful woman in wrap and long nightgown and little else. Her hair looked like an ocean breeze had danced with it, and it made her look carefree and wild. Her laugh had died as soon as she saw him. The crow stood on the table, rattling its treasures in a bowl, its feathers glossy and long. The woman's eyes were wise and dark and she had full lips that just now were open in surprise. He recognized her. He stepped up and rode the lowest rung on her trailer and held to it against the rocking with his right hand. Don't disappear, Lady, he said, Your handsome crow has a button of mine... he said, fingering the empty place where his button had been. It seemed rude to ask for it back, since he had launched it in the first place. He sensed that the crow would be offended at the lack of courtesy if he were to claim it. Odd. He had never felt any obligation to an animal before. ...but the gift is incomplete. There are four more in the set. He pulled the four remaining buttons off his vest as he spoke and held them up in his hand. My name is Mairon, he said, when she hesitated. I hide things and then I make them visible again. ---- The Doctor blinked behind his glasses. He was used to Rhianna's manias and prodding, but to burst into his trailer while they were traveling was unusual, and that she had a lady in tow was unprecedented. He fancied himself a man of science, and he knew that her fortune-telling was merely a clever art of reading the eyes, of the accomplice in the line chatting with marks to get specific details. And yet, the girl was uncanny in her judgment of character. She had told him never to hire the perfectly healthy Fat Man Johnny Lambert, then he keeled over after just two months and they had to bury him in the middle of the night next to a festering swamp. That had cost him dearly- coin for strong backs and silence and for reprinting nearly a full stock of carnival posters. So when she had insisted that he hire poor Elspeth, in spite of her obvious frail health, he was too afraid not to heed her. And here she was again, with a stuttering young lady with soft hands. She could never pound tent-pegs or shovel after the show ponies like the Russian women. He had all the cooks and laundry-maids he needed and she didn't look as if she could do a diving somersault through a flaming hoop. In fact, it looked like she had no skills at all, except perhaps for being pretty in an innocent way. The kind of pretty of which a Tribulation Baptist preacher would approve. The kind that didn't work at all in a carnival. The only qualification she seemed to come with was Rhianna's introduction and the fact that she was female and to all appearances, healthy. This last thought startled him and he almost forgot his courtesy. Can I offer you ladies some tea, perhaps? He poured for them, and watched, amused, as Rhianna snuck a little pinch of green powder into Felicity's tea, and a little into her own. He wondered briefly what mischief this was, but decided to let the wild redhead entertain herself as she saw fit. As it happens, he said, I have a new position open for a... let's say, a research assistant. A woman of strong health who can stand in for a patient stricken with hysteria. The assistant needs to be well bathed and groomed, and willing to be the subject of intimate inspection and manipulation. This, of course, under the strictest professionalism and in the rigorous pursuit of scientific knowledge. The assistant will never be subject to any danger or peril, and I personally will oversee any experiments that might result in discomfort with the intent to minimize those uncomfortable effects. In fact, this is an essential element of my research. He took a sip of tea. Of course, the research is secret at this point and discussion thereof will be prohibited until such time as my investor sees fit to make it known to the general public. I am prepared to offer three... Rhianna stomped on his foot suddenly. The Doctor winced. ...five coins per day for such an assistant. Is this a situation that agrees with you? ---- Elspeth, I need a curtain fashioned for a new work in the therapy tent. A drape that will conceal the therapist from the patient. It must be six spans tall and wide enough to cover a sanatorium bed. If you find it possible, fashion also a screen in the drape that will allow the therapist to see the patient's face. It is essential that the patient not see the countenance of the therapist. I cannot stress this enough. Sincerely, Dr. Manuel ---- Barker Clive woke late to the rocking of his trailer and the stretch of his bladder. He pulled on clothes and stepped out onto the road. It made little sense to fill his chamber-pot when he could find a stand of trees or a boulder close at hand. A handy low wall presented him with his chance, and he relieved himself, sighing with the pure beauty of it. The sizzle of his spray, the breeze, the sun, the colorful trailers strung like beads along the long road. He buttoned himself and felt Ava's coin in his pocket. She had won. He had seen the young lady come out from Albert's trailer, disheveled and flushed. The giddy embrace of last night's luck evaporated and he felt the dread of having to admit a defeat. He walked alongside the train towards the frontmost trailers where the star performers rolled. At Ava's door, he tapped with the coin and waited, downhearted in spite of the beauty of the day.