The Man Who Hated Ned O'Leary (Dig Two Graves 2)

With most city residents still working at this hour, the gateway was blocked with two empty popcorn carts, and the area dotted by colorful wagons and tents served as living quarters. In the evening, it would be transformed into a glamorous palace of attractions and curiosities, but for now, it didn’t resonate with loud music, looked quite ordinary, and smelled so too—of stew and potatoes rather than taffy.

It was the time of day Cole had enjoyed most when he’d traveled with Jan Dudek and his troupe. Without the people to distract the performers, life in camp was very much like the routine of Butcher Tom’s gang. People argued, fell in love, gossiped, and while so many dreamers joined the circus to amaze the public with stunts, that wasn’t what touring with a show was really about. To the residents of towns the circus visited, they represented a world beyond rules of civility, where women showed their legs, men played with wild cats, and people who would have been considered freaks of nature anywhere else got married and had children.

Cole used to enjoy the atmosphere of companionship this place offered, until a rumor of Ned O’Leary’s capture all the way in Wichita had given him an excuse to leave behind people he was starting to feel way too cozy with, and go on yet another wild goose chase. His path had crossed with the troupe again a year back, when he and Lars had stayed over for a couple of days, but as he pushed the popcorn carts out of the way and stepped onto the muddy grass beyond the wall of colorful pictures, it felt as if he’d never left. Even Terje’s wagon, bright red, with a picture of him riding a tiger as if it were a horse, was in its usual place, close to the entrance. So they hitched their mounts to a striped wooden post and as soon as Ned helped Tommy and Dog down, they headed to the center of the grounds.

Faces he didn’t recognize turned after them, but no one challenged their presence. Cole had found out long ago that confidence was key to fooling people, so Cole walked on as if he had every right to be here.

Tommy’s mouth hung open as he took in the encampment from the height of Ned’s shoulders. He looked like any other child, and Cole couldn’t help but wonder what atrocities the boy had already survived. He deserved one night of fun before his life turned gray again.

Cole led them to Jan’s wagon, as it only seemed right to prioritize the owner and master of ceremonies in one.

“Look, it’s a monkey.” Ned laughed and pointed out the slinky animal the size of an overgrown cat climbing to the fabric roof stretched above the open-air canteen.

“His name’s Archibald, and he can count to twenty,” Cole said, to amaze Tommy, even though the monkey was actually trained to react to its handler’s cues and knew nothing of calculus.

Ned’s eyes went as wide as Tommy’s. “That’s amazing. Can it write?”

Cole smiled and dismissed the silly question with a wave of his hand when they all faced Jan’s portrait on the lushly decorated wagon that made up the man’s living quarters. The painting depicted him as no more than thirty-five years of age, with no wrinkles, and not a single gray hair, even though such features were normal on a man of fifty and didn’t matter after dark. The green top hat embroidered with gold thread to match Jan’s suit hid the skin shining through at the top of his head just fine as he dazzled the audience with magic tricks.

Cole smiled when his stage name was mentioned at the lunch table nearby, but he acted as though he hadn’t spotted all the eyes watching them. He climbed the two steps to the carved door, and knocked, settling back on the grass in time to avoid being hit when it swung open. A head topped with rope-like locks of black hair popped out, and curious brown eyes took him in. Within the blink of an eye, Adam’s lips stretched into a smile, and he stepped out, presenting a magenta Chinese-inspired robe draped around his long, slender body. The color of the garment matched the rouge on his cheeks, and was so bright the dark hue of Adam’s skin seemed even deeper in contrast.

“Jan, come quick. Cole is back!”

Cole raised his hands. “I’m not exactly back…”

Jan rushed to the door with a big smile. He hadn’t yet dressed, and showed himself in an undershirt worn with striped pants, grabbing his top hat on the way as if the occasion required a greater degree of formality. “Cole my boy! You’ve been missed,” he said in his hard Eastern European accent.

Ned stood back with Tommy still sitting on his shoulders, but Adam took note of them and Dog regardless. He fluttered his eyelids as if they were the wings of a butterfly, which was fitting since they were painted a shimmery green and yellow. “And who might that be?”