Erin Morgenstern - The Night Circus

“Likewise,” Widget responds in turn. “We were off for a walk, if you’d like to join us.”

“Do come, please,” Poppet adds. “We hardly ever have company.”

“Sure, I’d like that,” Bailey says. He cannot think of a single reason to refuse, and is pleased that they both seem remarkably easy to talk to. “Do you not have to do any more, uh, circus things?”

“Not for a few hours, at least,” Widget says, as they start off down another pathway through the circus. “The kittens need to nap. Performing makes them sleepy.”

“They’re very good, how do you make them do all those tricks? I’ve never seen a cat do a somersault in midair,” Bailey says. He notices that all three of them are walking at the same pace, staying easily together as a group. He is much more used to following a few steps behind.

“Most cats will do anything if you ask them nicely,” Poppet says. “But it helps to train them early.”

“And to give them lots of treats,” Widget adds. “Treats always help.”

“Have you seen the big cats?” Poppet asks. Bailey shakes his head. “Oh, you should. Our parents do the big-cat show; their tent is down that way.” She points in a direction vaguely to the right.

“It’s like our performance, only with bigger cats,” Widget says.

“Much bigger cats,” Poppet elaborates. “Panthers and beautiful spotted snow leopards. They’re sweet, really.”

“And they have a tent,” Widget adds.

“Why don’t you have a tent?” Bailey asks.

“We don’t really need one,” Poppet says. “We can only do a few shows a night, and all we need are the kittens and hoops and strings and things. Anyone who doesn’t really need a tent performs wherever there’s room.”

“It adds to the ambience,” Widget says. “So you can see bits of the circus without having to pick a tent to go into, just wandering around.”

“That’s probably very good for indecisive people,” Bailey says, smiling when Poppet and Widget both laugh. “It is hard to choose a tent, you know, when there are so many.”

“That’s true,” Poppet says. They’ve reached the bonfire courtyard. It is quite crowded and Bailey is still surprised that no one pays them much attention, assuming that they are just the same as any group of young circus patrons visiting for the evening.

“I’m hungry,” Widget says.

“You’re always hungry,” Poppet retorts. “Shall we get something to eat?”

“Yes,” Widget says.

Poppet sticks her tongue out at him.

“I was asking Bailey,” she says. “Shall we get something to eat, Bailey?”

“Sure,” Bailey says. Poppet and Widget seem to get along much better than he and Caroline ever have, and he assumes it is because they are closer to the same age. He wonders if they are twins; they certainly look enough alike to be twins, and he thinks it might be rude to ask.

“Have you tried the cinnamon things?” Poppet asks. “They’re rather new. What are they called, Widge?”

“Fantastically delicious cinnamon things?” Widget says, shrugging. “I don’t think all of the new things have names yet.”

“I haven’t, but they sound good,” Bailey says.

“They are good,” Widget says. “Layers of pastry and cinnamon and sugar all rolled into a twist and covered in icing.”

“Wow,” Bailey says.

“Exactly,” Widget replies. “And we should get some cocoa and some chocolate mice.”

“I have chocolate mice,” Bailey says, pulling the bag out of his pocket. “I bought them earlier.”

“Ah, you think ahead. Very good to be prepared,” Widget says. “You were right about him, Poppet.”

Bailey looks at Poppet quizzically, but she only smiles at him.

“Shall Bailey and I get cocoa while you get the cinnamon whatnots?” she asks, and Widget nods his approval of this plan.

“Certainly. Meet you at the bonfire?” he asks. Poppet nods, and Widget tips his hat to them both and goes off into the crowd.

Bailey and Poppet continue to walk around the bonfire courtyard. After a few moments of amicable silence, Bailey works up the nerve to ask a question, one he’s not sure he’ll be comfortable asking once they meet back up with Widget.

“Can I ask you something?” Bailey asks.

“Of course,” Poppet says. There is a bit of a line for cocoa, but the vendor notices Poppet who flashes three fingers at him, and he smiles and nods in return.

“When… um, when the circus was here last time and I, well… ” Bailey struggles for words, annoyed that the question seems simpler in his head.

“Yes?” Poppet says.

“How did you know my name?” Bailey asks. “And how did you know I was there?”

“Hmmmm… ” Poppet says, as though she is having difficulty finding the proper words to respond with. “It’s not easy to explain,” she starts. “I see things before they happen. I saw you coming, not long before you got there. And I don’t always see details well, but when I saw you I knew what your name was, like knowing that your scarf is blue.”

They reach the front of the line and the vendor has three cups of cocoa in striped cups waiting for them already, with clouds of extra whipped cream on top. Poppet hands one to Bailey and takes the other two herself, and Bailey notices that the vendor waves them off with no money having changed hands. He assumes that free cocoa is a benefit of being a member of the circus.

“So you see everything before it happens?” Bailey asks. He is not sure Poppet’s answer is entirely what he expected, if he expected anything at all.

Poppet shakes her head.

“No, not everything. Sometimes just bits of things like words and pictures in a book, but the book has lots of pages missing and it’s been dropped in a pond and some parts are blurry but other parts aren’t. Does that make sense?” she asks.

“Not really,” Bailey answers.

Poppet laughs. “I know it’s strange,” she says.

“No, it’s not,” Bailey says. Poppet turns to look at him, the skepticism at the statement evident on her face. “Well, yes, it is kind of strange. But just odd strange, not bad strange.”

“Thank you, Bailey,” Poppet says. They circle the courtyard, heading back to the bonfire. Widget is waiting for them, holding a black paper bag and watching the vibrant white flames.

“What took you so long?” Widget asks.

“We had a line,” Poppet says, handing him his cocoa. “Didn’t you?”

“No. I don’t think people have figured out how good these things are yet,” Widget says, shaking the bag. “Are we set, then?”

“I think so,” Poppet says.

“Where are we going?” Bailey asks.

Poppet and Widget exchange a glance before Poppet answers.

“We’re doing rounds,” she says. “Circles of the circus. To… to keep an eye on things. You do want to come with us, don’t you?”

“Of course,” Bailey says, relieved that he is not an imposition.

They walk in loops around the circus, sipping their cocoa and munching on chocolate mice and the sugary cinnamon pastry things, which are just as good as promised. Poppet and Widget tell him stories of the circus, pointing out tents as they pass by, and Bailey answers their questions about his town, finding it strange that they seem interested in what he considers very mundane things. They speak with the ease of people who have known each other for years, and the excitement of new friends with new stories.

If Poppet and Widget are keeping an eye on anything beyond their cocoa and himself, Bailey cannot tell what it might be.

“What’s the Stargazer?” he asks, catching sight of a sign he has not seen before, as they discard their empty cups and bags.

“Up for gazing, Poppet?” Widget asks his sister. She pauses before she nods. “Poppet reads the stars,” he explains to Bailey. “It’s the easiest place to see the future.”