Freaks: Alive, on the Inside!

Miss Lightfoot and Mr. Ginger chatted with curious guests, while Mrs. Webster congratulated me on a fine show and plied me with homemade muffins.

Maybe Apollo considered himself too old for the games, for later I saw him at the side of Mr. Bopp, who sat enthroned on a lawn chair. This couldn’t be a combination ripe for decorum, but the farmhands who gathered around them were laughing heartily. I wouldn’t doubt Apollo was getting an education.

Two girls paid much attention to me, and their eyes continually darted to the knives I wore. I thought this might put their escorts’ noses out of joint, except they were too interested in the whereabouts of my pretty assistant. She slept, I told them, and explained that she had felt peaked. The young men were disappointed. I understood. I would much rather be in her company. I resolved to leave the party early, but every time I tried, I was trapped in another conversation.

Eventually the guests were called away by thoughts of early morning chores. Our troupe bade our farewells alongside the Websters, and Miss Lightfoot glowed with the thrill of inclusion. Mr. Ginger encircled her arm with his, and I could tell that constituted his thrill. I wished to encircle Tauseret. I had neglected her indeed.

As soon as we reached the barn, the children scattered to the loft. “Toss down those curtain poles before you go to sleep,” I called, and they obliged me.

Cider and good company had comforted my fears. Mink wasn’t going to show. He was a coward. He’d cut his losses and run.

Mr. Ginger kissed Miss Lightfoot good night on the back of her hand. Hurry to sleep, I urged silently. I dared not rush to the water trough, for I didn’t want to remind Miss Lightfoot of her self-appointed duties as a chaperone. I didn’t want a chaperone, not one bit. Slowly I pulled the curtains from the poles and carefully folded them. I took as much time as I could.

At last we were alone.

Moonlight fell from the louvered air vent over the great barn doors. I walked along a silver path to the trough. My heart beat in my throat, and a sweet ache awoke in me—only to turn into bitter disappointment.

I found her stiff and still, as if she had never become a beautiful girl, as if that had all been a dream, like the other dreams I’d had since I’d been given the ring. I laid my hand on her brow, but not even an eyelash flickered. I stroked her cheek, her arms, her legs, willing the flesh to warm; yet nothing happened. What if she never woke up again? The thought was unbearable. Panic battered my heart with dark wings. I clutched her hand and bowed my head over her and prayed she would awake.

“How lovely to find you alone,” said an icy, hushed voice.

28

MY HEAD WHIPPED UP SO HARD my neck cracked.

A slim figure with lank hair stood outlined in the moonlight.

I rose to my feet in terror. “What do you want here, Ceecee?”

“Everything.” Ceecee giggled. Silver light shimmered on his open razor. “Everything but you, that is. You, my dear, must go.” His eyes glowed black and feverish in his pale face.

The trough lay between us, but that offered no protection. After praying so hard for Tauseret to move, I now prayed she wouldn’t, so she’d be safe. I glanced around. Could I reach the ladder to the loft? How fast was Ceecee? Would it help if I yelled, or would that simply put the others in danger?

“You’re a troublemaker, Dandy,” Ceecee whispered as he drew closer, razor poised in spider fingers. “But I think they’ll fall in line once they see you dead.”

“I didn’t think you’d find us so fast,” I said, stepping carefully backward.

“Don’t let your brats drop toys on the right road when you’ve made tracks on the wrong one,” he answered, pushing his lank hair back with his free hand.

Minnie’s doll. That’s where it went.

Sweat tickled my neck. I wanted to scratch, but would Ceecee think I was reaching for one of the knives I still wore?

My heart beat faster and my mouth dried. Maybe I should reach for a knife. They were sharp enough—but was I quick enough, and did I dare use my throwing knives on a person? I shuddered at the thought of my knives sinking into flesh.

“Where’s Mink?” I asked, playing for time. My right fingers twitched slightly as I calculated the placement of the nearest knife.

Ceecee giggled again. “Toasting my success in an Osceola tavern. Waiting for my return with the prodigal prodigies.”

“I won’t let you take them.” Could I really stop this crazy man? I narrowed my eyes so he wouldn’t see the fear in them.

“Who made you protector of the freaks?” Spit flew from Ceecee’s mouth. “Do you feel handsome surrounded by nature’s rejects?”

I flamed with righteous indignation at his words. My friendship wasn’t shallow.

He took another step forward, and I wondered if I could pull and throw a knife before he reached me. All I had to do was wound him enough to shock him, and then perhaps I could knock him out and tie him up.

What if the knife stuck in its sheath? I took another step back. What if he got to me before I could throw? Would I have to fight him, knife in hand? How much damage would he do to me with that razor? Lightning fear fizzed through me.