As I was about to ask the old woman what she meant, she raised her head from her stooped shoulders and lifted a weathered hand to point to something behind me.
“Trust no one,” she said again.
She was pointing at the big top, which stood ominously in the moonlight, an inky black marvel, highlighted with shimmering gold, jutting above the smattering of booths ensconced in its shadow. The sight would have seemed magical if it weren’t tinged with the ghastly fright I’d just experienced.
“What do you mean?” I asked, intending to continue our strange conversation.
But when I turned around to face her again, the old crone was gone. As if she’d never been there at all. I turned in a full circle, my breath catching in my lungs, but there was no sign of her.
“Hello?” I shouted, whipping around again, searching the shadows. “Hello?”
It wasn’t… this wasn’t possible! The old woman had disappeared, as if the air had simply swallowed her. And not only that, but her caravan was gone with her. It took me a second, and I had to blink a few more times before the reality of the situation fully dawned on me.
The caravan and the old woman were gone.
Had I imagined them? But, no, I knew I hadn’t.
I’d often been told I had an active imagination and yes, it had been a long, tiring day, but the old woman had been standing right there in front of me, just a few feet away. I was absolutely sure of it. And I was also sure her caravan had been just behind her. I could still picture the ornate details of the carvings on the wood.
Could it be possible she was a spirit? Maybe that was it? She’d been nothing more than a ghost, come to vex me and deliver words that made no sense before she simply sputtered out of existence again.
Perplexed, I swiped my hand down my face as I wondered what in the world I should do now. I no longer cared about finding my sleeping quarters. I was desperate for real people, those who didn’t speak in cryptic riddles or vanish in the blink of an eye. People whose faces I could see—faces that weren’t blurry.
I couldn’t find my way to the sleeping quarters—it seemed every step I took brought me farther away. And my thoughts were full—questions racing into one another: How in the world had the old crone known my name? What was she talking about when she cautioned me to trust no one? Had I simply imagined the whole interaction, or was she nothing more than a ghost?
Lacking an answer to any of my queries, I shoved them into the dark recesses of my mind and started walking again. For now, I sought the comfort of a crowd. I wanted to lose myself in the sounds of happy people rather than dwelling on thoughts of ghosts and faceless people and caravans that simply disappeared.
I found my way back to the main path and followed it to the big top. Pushing the flaps aside, I welcomed the relief that flowed warmly through me at the sight within. All the performers were hard at work, either practicing their routines, or helping to rig up the set pieces. It was certainly looking more like an actual circus tent than the empty ring and piles of gear from earlier.
“Howdy, Bindi!” Halfrieda waved to me from where she sat in the nearby stand. Valida’s upper body poked out from behind her. I gave a nervous wave back and shuffled across the ground, taking the seat beside Halfrieda.
“I thought Laurent was takin’ you on a tour?” she asked.
“He obviouzly has ozer problemz to deal wiz,” Valida said in a thick, Eastern European accent. She gestured lazily toward the tightrope. Laurent’s attention was riveted on the twins as he loudly explained the dangers and unnecessary risks in practicing without a net. The twins bounded up the ladders on either side, ignoring him as they continued to perfect their act.
I wasn’t sure why, but I had the sudden thought that if it were Rex standing there, they both would be listening with rapt attention.
Valida’s gaze snapped back to me, her green snake nudging her tan, leathery cheek gently. “Zat routine of yours waz imprezzive,” she said with no emotion in her voice.
I gave a tight-lipped smile, still dazed from what had happened earlier with the old woman and the caravan and the people with no faces. My mind couldn’t let it go. It was truly bizarre, and I was so grateful to now be around people who were actually there, people who were real.
Feeling the need to give Valida a response, I squeaked out a feeble, “Thank you.”
Valida snapped her fingers loudly, clattering her dangling earrings as she tsked me. “You vill find it rare zat I beztow my praise to anyone.”
I glanced at Halfrieda, who only winked in reply. “Valida appears ta like ya, Bindi. That’s pretty impressive! She hated me fer the first few weeks I was here.”
Valida scoffed, pushing a long strand of long, dark, curly hair behind her shoulder. “You zimply had not proven yourzelf. What zort of talent eez growing facial ‘air?”
“More talent than dancin’ with that there ol’ snake,” Halfrieda huffed and wrapped her big arms around herself.
“Old znake?” Valida gasped, cupping her serpent’s head as if to cover its ears. “Balthazar eez in ‘iz prime, zank you very kindly!”
I grimaced and shifted uncomfortably in my seat, feeling out of place between the two of them who were obviously old friends. Although sitting with them was better than being alone, I was uneasy just being here, period. They clearly knew each other and had for a while, defining their friendship to the point that even their argument sounded playful. The circus performers were a clannish group, and I wondered if they’d ever welcome me into their family. Once again, my heart twinged and ached for Amelia and I wished I could send her that telegram now. But it would have to wait until tomorrow.
It will just take time, I told myself. All good things take time.
“B-Balthazar is a beautiful snake,” I said to Valida, eager to abandon my self-pity and the questions plaguing my mind again. I briefly considered discussing the strange events with Halfrieda but then thought against it because I didn’t want anyone thinking I was losing my mind.