The Girl Who Joined the Circus

“Well, hello again,” I gave my doll friend a wave on her stand. “Remember me? I don’t suppose you’re going to follow me again, are you?”

It was probably strange that I was talking to an inanimate doll, but I was fairly convinced I hadn’t been merely hallucinating it when she’d come to life and followed me around the last time I’d been here. No, I was starting to believe that magic wasn’t only real, but very active in the Cirque du Noir.

Now, though, it didn’t appear as if she was anything other than a still, lifeless doll—just like every other still, lifeless doll in the room.

She didn’t respond, and her eyes remained unmoving. I couldn’t keep the disappointment from cresting within me, even as I wondered if maybe the magic that had animated her only worked at night?

I carefully reached forward, gripping her black-petticoat waist and holding her up so I could get a better look at her. But there was no life there. There was nothing. And that, of course, made me wonder if I’d simply imagined her coming to life before? Or were there rules to this magic that I didn’t understand? I was betting on the latter.

Just as I was about to put the doll on her stand again, much to my surprise and delight, her head tilted upward and her eyes came to life. Realizing my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me, I nearly dropped her where I stood.

“S-So you are alive,” I gasped softly.

The doll continued staring, but with occasional blinks.

I set her on the ground, watching in amazement as she stood by herself. “Did Laurent make you specifically for the show?” I asked, wondering if the doll would be able to speak this time, but I really didn’t think that was possible. Of course, how was it even possible that she was animate in the first place?

A flutter of memory tickled the back of my mind as I crouched low, hushing my voice to barely a whisper. There was just something so familiar about this doll, something that said I should have remembered who and what she was. “Have… have I forgotten something important about you?”

The doll’s red lips remained fused together.

With a heavy sigh, I sat on the ground beside her. As with the last time I’d come across her, there was nothing frightening about her. She took a few wobbly steps and then sat beside me.

“I wish I knew your name,” I said and then sighed. “In fact, I wish I knew a lot of things where Cirque du Noir is concerned.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips as I glanced down at the red of her hair. “I don’t know why, but it feels like you and I have known each other forever. But… how can that be?”

The doll shuddered, her porcelain hands reaching out to touch my arm. Something changed in her eyes. They were suddenly wider and filled with mysterious life. Although her face was frozen in a neutral stare, something about her looked… relieved? Or was it desperate?

“What are you trying to tell me?” I asked as I stared into that small face, wishing there was some way she could communicate with me. “What do you know about this circus? There’s something off about it, isn’t there?”

The doll continued looking at me in silence as I prattled on, seemingly needing to get these thoughts and feelings out. “I don’t know why, but my mind has been foggy from the time I first arrived here. I can’t remember things about my past, and I feel like I’ve known some people here for a very long time, even though that’s impossible because I just met them.” I breathed in deeply as I thought about all the questions swirling through my mind, all without answers. “Illustrations on the old posters look like me—exactly like me… which is… which is impossible.”

The doll looked at me and stood up. Then she began clawing at her mouth, as if she were desperate to tell me something, but her immobile lips wouldn’t allow her to do so. I was mortified to see scratches appearing across her flawless porcelain, but she kept going, either oblivious to what she was doing to herself or uncaring.

“Stop!” I reached out to her, but she staggered away. Swirls of white dust fell from her face as she departed. Tiny pieces of what had been a beautiful face plinked softly when they hit the ground. Soon, her once-ruby lips were replaced by a gaping, jagged hole.

“R-Remember, Bindi. Remember… ” her voice was strange, as if it were coming from underwater.

“Remember what?” A twang of anxiety rushed through me, and I crawled toward her on my hands and knees. “What am I supposed to remember? Who are you?”

“Remember… th-the rules about this place.”

I blinked, sitting up straight as someone’s snickering caught my attention. Turning my head, I scanned hundreds of faces of the dolls along the wall until one stood out among all the rest and I realized it wasn’t a doll at all. I ground my teeth together. “Laurent, is that you?”

Sure enough, the ringmaster himself slipped out from his hiding spot behind the shelves, giving a slight bow. “I-I’m terribly sorry, Bindi, but I simply couldn’t resist.” He waved his hand, and the doll went rigid, collapsing into a lifeless heap on the ground. “I would have thought the first two visits scared you away, but you’re much braver than I expected.”

“So, you did know I was here?” I scrambled to my feet, clenching my fists as a strange mix of irritation and relief flowed through me. “Th-this whole time, you were the one who was moving the doll, animating her?”

I couldn’t believe I’d been so gullible.

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” Laurent chuckled. “I’ve been experimenting as… well, I hope to use these dolls in a circus act one day, if I ever get the mechanics worked out.” He scooped the now-broken doll into his arms. “Looks like my friend here will need a few repairs. Wouldn’t want the magic to escape its confines, would we?”

“You call it magic, as if magic actually exists.”

He gave me a strange expression. “Doesn’t it, though?”

I didn’t answer because I didn’t know how to answer. Of course, the logical answer was a resounding ‘no, it doesn’t exist’, but I knew that was the wrong response because magic did exist and it was all around me.

Laurent wiggled his eyebrows my way, setting the doll on a nearby workbench filled with various tools. “Welcome to my work area, Bindi. I call it my lab, actually. I come here when I want to get away from the maddening crowds of people. I find tinkering with mechanical dolls relaxes me.”