F. Wilson - Secret Circles

Three Swings for a Dollar

Jack wasn‟t interested. He knew his skinny arms wouldn‟t be able to power that ringer to the top, and the prize was a teddy bear. Who wanted a teddy bear?

The sun was gone, leaving the circus an island of light in a sea of deepening darkness. Jack glanced toward the trees bordering the field and saw two points of light in the shadow. They blinked off and then on again.

He thought he could make out a hulking shape within the dark. But then the points blinked off and never came on again.

Eyes? Had something been watching the circus from the pines? It couldn‟t have been a person because human eyes didn‟t glow like that. And what kind of animal had eyes so far off the ground?

Unless …

He shook it off. That was Weezy territory.

They entered the sideshow and ambled past the freaks.

Only half a dozen present if you counted the Siamese Twins as two: Armando the Armless Saxophonist, Corinda the Cow-faced Woman, Tiny the World‟s Fattest Man, and Peter the Pinnochio Boy who was a midget dancing around with elastic strings stretching from the ceiling to his wrists and ankles.

Jack suspected the Siamese twins were tied at the shoulder rather than truly joined. He was watching them closely, looking for evidence of fakery as they juggled—a clever act—when Eddie hurried up and grabbed his arm.

“Jack,” he said, grinning, “you‟ve got to see this thing down here. They‟re calling it a „machine‟

but it doesn‟t do anything!”

Jack followed him to a stall where an odd gizmo sat on a rotating platform under a hand-printed sign.

THE MYSTERY MACHINE

The weirdest thing Jack had ever seen: a bunch of odd-colored, odd-shaped pieces—flat, round, oval, irregular, opaque, clear like glass—haphazardly stuck together with no rhyme or reason. Like something a toddler would put together from an alien Tinkertoy set.

“Isn‟t it a riot?” Eddie said. “It just sits there.”

He was right. It simply sat and rotated on its stand. Dumb. Jack was turning

away when something caught his eye. He turned back and stared. He could have sworn

…

Nah. Impossible.

He made another move to leave when he saw it again—or thought he did. For an instant—just an instant—the upper half of one of the pieces seemed to

have faded away. It looked fine now, but Jack was sure …

He stared unblinking. If it happened again, he‟d catch it.

“What did you see?”

A thin, balding, bookish man to his left had spoken.

“Not sure,” Jack said. “More like what I didn‟t see.”

“Something faded in and out of view?”

Jack nodded. “That was how it looked.”

“I didn‟t see anything,” Eddie said.

“Only certain people can, and then only out of the corner of the eye.” “What is it?” Eddie said.

The man smiled. “A mystery.”

“Yeah, fine. But it says it‟s a machine. What‟s it do ?”

“It fascinates.”

“The fading in and out of view,” Jack said. “Optical illusion, right?” The man shrugged.

“Perhaps. Or perhaps it goes somewhere.” “‟Goes‟?”

“As in: leaves here and pokes into another place.”

“What other place?”

The man‟s smile was almost sad. “That‟s the real mystery. I—” “Hey, Prather!” someone said, and the man turned.

“Yes?”

The canvas boss from last night walked up and said, “Little Taber wants t‟see

you.”

As the bookish man hurried off, the boss looked at Jack. “Want tickets to the

cycle show?”

“Well—” Jack started to say.

“You would‟ve had free passes if you‟d pitched in last night,” he said with a sharp

grin. “But now you‟ll have to buy them, won‟t you?”

Jack pulled out the passes Mr. Drexler had given him. “Not exactly.” The grin vanished.

“Where‟d you get those?”

“I‟ve got my sources,” Jack said, turning away.

“What‟s he talking about?” Eddie said.

Jack told him, keeping watch on the Mystery Machine as they walked away, but

nothing faded away this time.

Pokes into another place … yeah, right. An optical illusion and nothing more. “Any word on that kid?” the boss called after them.

Jack looked back. “Not that I heard.”

The guy shook his head in what looked like disgust. “We‟re doing our part, you

know.”

“Yeah, I saw the posters.”

As he and Eddie continued toward the main tent, Jack was doubly sure that

particular roustabout knew nothing. But that didn‟t mean somebody else here didn‟t. One of the freaks, maybe?

Instantly Weezy‟s voice was in his inner ear: Oh, sure, blame it on the freaks.

Just because they’re different doesn’t mean they’re evil.

Okay, right, sure. Different didn‟t equal evil, but that didn‟t guarantee not evil.

Maybe if you were treated badly all your life because of a twisted outside, you became twisted inside.

His imagination was running now. What if Peter the Pinnochio Boy pretended to

be a little kid—he was small enough to pass—and lured Cody into a trap and— Jack‟s mind balked at going any further.

They reached the main tent, showed their passes, and found seats. After

watching the animal show—dopey—and cycle stunts—cool—they wandered back

outside.

“Where‟s your dear sister?” Jack said as he watched some hapless father trying

to win a teddy bear for his little girl by throwing darts at balloons.

Why wasn‟t Mr. Vivino here doing that for Sally? What was wrong with him? “With Toliver somewhere, I guess,” Eddie said.

Jack had had enough so-called fun, and was ready to head home. But they

couldn‟t leave without Weezy.

“Let‟s go look. You head toward the front, I‟ll take the rear. We‟ll meet back here

in a couple of minutes.”

As he walked along he heard, “Hi, Jack.”

He turned and recognized a girl from one of his classes.

“Hi, Karina.”

What was her last name? He‟d started high school only a couple of weeks ago

and hadn‟t nailed down all the new names yet.

Haddon. That was it. Karina Haddon.

She smiled. “I figured you‟d be here, seeing as it‟s practically in your backyard.” She had a nice smile and wore her dark blond hair short, though not as short as

his sister Kate‟s. She had most of it hidden under a striped engineer‟s cap now. Her brown eyes sparkled in the lights strung overhead.

He said, “You‟re from Tabernacle, right?”

Tabernacle was the next town north on 206. Karina was always seated on the

school bus beside her friend Cristin by the time Jack boarded. Compared to other girls in the class, she tended to dress down—way down. Like bulky sweaters and loose

jeans. To night she wore a Bob Marley T-shirt.

She rolled her eyes. “My dad drove me and Cristin and he‟s been like hanging

over us.”

“Where is she?”

She looked around. “I‟m not sure …”

Just then a grinning brunette slipped through a knot of people.

“Hey, you found him,” Cristin said.

Jack saw Karina give her a shut-up look.

“Oh, uh, well, your dad‟s like having a major cow because you wandered off. He

wants to find you and skate.”

Karina turned to him and said, “Gotta run. See you in school tomorrow.” She waved and hurried off with Cristin, the two of them blabbing a hundred

miles an hour.

Hey, you found him.

Had Karina been looking for him?

Interesting, he thought as he resumed the search for Weezy.

He found her standing by the hammer game with two other sophomore girls.