Carousel Read online

  “We’re not always in places with good cell service or Wi-Fi,” Madoc warned her. “As you can see, we stay out of the way of the common path.”

  “As long as we’re sometimes in places with those things. I also have a hotspot,” Caroline said. “I think I’ll be fine.”

  “Excellent.”

  Madoc knocked on the Ringmaster’s RV door. It was a fine-looking vehicle, shiny as new in spite of all their travel, which made Caroline suspect that some of the crew or the Ringmaster himself cleaned it, the way some luxury car owners washed their cars every weekend.

  When the Ringmaster opened the door and looked down at Madoc and Caroline, still resplendent and groomed, Caroline decided he made someone in the staff do it. There was no way the Ringmaster got his hands dirty.

  “This is the new carousel engineer,” Madoc said.

  “So she’s the one who needs the contract,” the Ringmaster said.

  He’d been so animated in the ring that his cold voice and blank face startled Caroline. But it wasn’t the same emptiness as the crew. There was…something in the Ringmaster’s eyes. With his dramatic, almost Satanic appearance, it was hard not to see something sinister in that blankness.

  Caroline was sure he couldn’t help it any more than the conjoined twins could help being conjoined. Some people just had scary faces. But Caroline also couldn’t help being scared by it, so she shut her mouth, nodded when she had to, and signed the contract after a cursory glance. Honestly, she could have signed away her firstborn son, but she didn’t want to spend any more time in the Ringmaster’s company.

  “Welcome to Arcanium, Caroline,” Madoc said.

  When the Ringmaster closed his door, contract in hand. Caroline let out a breath.

  “Do you need anything else while we’re here?”

  Caroline used Madoc’s bathroom and wiped her face with water to cool herself a bit and wash away the sweat. She’d save the shower for tomorrow, once she’d settled in and had everything she needed.

  She said goodnight to both Madoc and Maya, who were drinking something that looked like whiskey on the couch in their living room. It really was a nice RV. Perhaps she should have looked in her own cabin before experiencing this, because just about anything else would pale in comparison.

  As she walked away from the caravan, the darkness and quiet of the night pressed in around her. She wasn’t a stranger to nature—or to silence—nor was she afraid of them. But perhaps it was her present strange state, with the little hairs on her body standing on end, her skin flushed underneath the warmth of the night, her previous life uprooted in such spectacular fashion, ambivalence and the first creeping tendrils of anxiety inching through her like ice through her heated flesh… Caroline paused on her way back to the carousel.

  She could see its rainbow lights illuminating her destination from a distance, but she was suddenly aware that she was in the dark path between the two oases of light, and all alone. Caroline was not used to being alone.

  But because she was alone, she didn’t have to impress anyone with her bravery. She ran toward the carousel, faster and faster, with her heart pounding against her chest and the inexplicable fear following her like a wolf.

  She went around the curve of the big top and could now see the whole carousel. She was almost there. Just a few more seconds and she could crawl into the carousel’s belly, where she’d close the door over her head and be safe.

  Then she ran into the clowns.

  They weren’t doing anything but walking, but she’d been so focused on the light of the carousel that she hadn’t seen them moving in the darkness.

  She hit the sad female clown straight on. Their legs tangled as they fell, and their elbows and knees hit the vulnerable places that knocked Caroline’s wind out.

  She was lifted off the ground before she could catch her breath. Her legs weren’t working yet. Her brain was more concerned about getting air than minor inconveniences like not being able to stand.

  The person who had picked her up as though she weighed no more than a loaf of bread shook her until she was able to breathe and thus able to control her limbs—as though he didn’t know what else to do to make her work again.

  When she stumbled away from the man holding her, she discovered that it had been the monster clown who had picked her off the sad clown. The painted maw so close, shadowed but no less effective, incited her instinct to flee, but she forced herself not to flinch. Too much.

  “I am so sorry,” Caroline said, apologies spilling from her as fast as she begged air into her lungs. “It was dark, and I couldn’t see you coming around the curve. I was just trying to get back to the carousel to sleep. I’m so sorry.”

  The sad clown, helped up by the happy clown, tilted her head. If Caroline had been like a ragdoll in the monster clown’s hands, the sad clown suddenly looked like a broken one as she approached Caroline.

  None of them made any sound. Their absence of speech was as oppressive as the silence. Usually when people were quiet like this after an accident, it meant they intended to return the favor with a much more malicious ‘accident’. That’s what it felt like, anyway—like she’d walked into a rival gang’s territory. They just kept staring, with their yellow contacts still in their wide eyes, their mouths pressed tightly together.

  “I don’t know what I can say. Are you hurt? Do you need an ambulance? Do you need me to get Mr. Madoc or the Ringmaster or something? I can’t tell you enough how sorry I am.”

  In their persistent silence, it seemed she had plenty to say to fill it.

  The sad clown tilted her head the other way now, blinking her fake eyelashes. Up close, they looked like cricket legs. Her fingers were cool against Caroline’s cheek. She looked to the monster clown and the happy clown, still blinking. Caroline could practically hear the sound of those eyelashes hitting her painted cheek.

  The two male clowns backed away. The sad clown gestured for Caroline to continue with a slight curtsy of her voluminous tutu.

  Caroline edged away, even more creeped out now that she’d seen people than when she’d been alone. The sad clown touched her shoulder like the brush of a moth wing. Then Caroline was free. When she reached the carousel and looked behind her, the clowns were gone.

  “That was so weird,” Caroline whispered.

  She climbed up then entered the cage and opened the door to her new home.

  It was less like a cabin and more like a pod, as though she’d stepped from her humble Missouri roots into one of those tiny Japanese apartments that were all about maximization of minimal space. Even with her dorm living situation, Caroline had never thought she could live like that.

  Now that she was here, she thought it was kind of cute. The pod was a half-circle, although it wasn’t the whole half of the carousel or else it’d be bigger. There were two battery-operated dome lights on the ceiling and she had to crawl to get anywhere, but Caroline thought it would be comfortable as long as she didn’t have to stand. If she needed to stretch her legs, she could always climb out and walk among the mounts.

  Her bag was next to the bed, which was smaller than a twin and little more than a series of cushions attached to the floor, plus some pillows and folded blankets. The cushions continued up the curved side, which Caroline didn’t understand, but she just shrugged it away as another quirk of modern interior design—feng shui, flow or whatever they called it. On the other side of her bed, there was a slide-away storage door with room behind it for her duffel and then some. It latched closed and could even lock with a code, which made Caroline feel safer, especially since she’d brought her tablet with her.

  Someone had been considerate and already turned on the air conditioning, so the small cabin was mercifully cool. She crawled to the mini-fridge—which also latched automatically like the storage door—and grabbed a bottled water. There wasn’t a lot in there—a few boxes of fruit, cheese and sandwich meat in a drawer, and some ice cream and ice in the freezer section. Again, considerate.
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br />   The only downside was that she’d have to leave in order to pee or shower, but that was small price to pay for a little slice of comfortable privacy. It was probably more than some of the other people got.

  She drank half the bottled water then crawled over to her bag and opened it to take out her tablet, which had been protected by the clothes around it. She also pulled out a tank top and a new pair of panties to sleep in. The summer day had been dry, but she was a little sticky from sweat. She just wanted to feel cleaner and cool while she slept.

  After changing, she turned on her tablet. She didn’t have a signal, so she retrieved her hotspot as well. Then she logged on to her email account.

  This wasn’t the best way to say goodbye, but Caroline didn’t want to call. Then she’d just have her father yelling at her because of the whole slew of new ways that she’d disappointed him.

  Hi, Dad. I’m sure you think I’m out partying or hanging out with my friends or drinking too much late-night coffee or whatever kids do these days.

  The truth is, I found a job like you wanted. It’s with that traveling circus, and we’re leaving after tomorrow. Don’t come see me. I’ve signed the contract. I’m in for a year. I’ll square everything away with school. I wouldn’t be the first student to skip a year in order to take care of business.

  Think of it this way. I’ll have some real-world training now. I get to see the whole country, not to mention a lot of different kinds of people.

  Tell Mom I’ll call her in a few weeks after I adjust to the unconventional work environment. Love you. Caroline

  She smiled but she didn’t feel happy. Her dad was going to be so pissed off because he wouldn’t know what to be pissed off about. She’d done exactly what he wanted her to do, but not exactly the way he wanted her to, and there was nothing he could do about it. The contract was signed. She was part of Arcanium now, for better or worse.

  She stuffed the tablet back in her bag, latched the storage closet and crawled into bed, pulling the blankets over her legs. She switched off the light closest to her but left the other one on. With the door to the world above closed, it would be pitch dark if she turned off that light.

  Here in the belly of the carousel, there weren’t even the muted sounds of nature. Just the metallic tapping of insects and birds whenever they hit the sides or the platform, like the occasional light rain.

  As the carousel engineer, she didn’t have manual labor or a lot of responsibilities. But her life had completely changed in one afternoon. Whiplash had done a number on her. She was exhausted, didn’t even want to check on any of her real-life or online friends. It occurred to her she’d have to let them know she wasn’t going back to college next August.

  It was a little sad that she hadn’t thought about her friends when she’d agreed to tour with Arcanium for a year. None of those friends were all that close. They were good to hang out with, to be not lonely with, to share a coffee with, but when it came down to it, she’d still contacted her parents first—and they were the ones ready to kick her out of her own home.

  She hadn’t had a close friend since high school. Everything in college was just too…transient. One dorm to another, one class to another—here today and gone tomorrow. Caroline had always had trouble digging in roots.

  She supposed that joining a traveling circus hadn’t made that any easier.

  * * * *

  Caroline woke up disoriented. She wasn’t sure where she was, what she had been dreaming about that made her throb low and warm between her legs or what had awakened her. She flailed, the blankets tangling about her limbs, and she squinted into the light as she shot straight up. Fortunately, there was plenty of room to sit up in the cabin. The last thing she needed was to bump her head every time she started out of sleep.

  Sighing and still half-locked in a dream she couldn’t even remember, Caroline fell back against the cushions and her pillow.

  Just as she was sinking back under, the thumping sound jolted her awake again.

  Caroline pushed herself upright, fear riding on the rush of adrenaline. There was a downside to privacy. It meant that when she was afraid of the dark, she was completely alone. She didn’t have her parents in the master bedroom down the hall, a lot of students all around her or a dog guarding her bedside. She didn’t have anything, not even a baton or baseball bat to hit an intruder with.

  The thump turned into thuds. Heavy but irregular footsteps.

  Caroline hoped it would just go away, that it was a dog or a coyote attracted to the pretty horsies, that it would move on and leave her be. She could barely breathe.

  It didn’t leave. It just kept stumbling over her head. Then Caroline thought she heard a voice. She couldn’t tell whether it was human or animal—a wordless moan, like a precursor to an attack in a zombie film.

  That was as good a reason as any to stay down here in the safety of the carousel’s belly. If the zombie apocalypse was finally upon them, a zombie wouldn’t be clever enough to know how to come down here. There was the cage gate and the latched door to confound it. It probably didn’t even know she was there.

  Caroline crept to the door. She clutched the ladder with white-knuckled hands, straining to hear.

  Another moan, more stumbling.

  Closer to the source, it sounded human.

  If this were a horror movie, she was the dumb blonde about to get eaten. But this wasn’t a horror movie, and she doubted a zombie apocalypse would lead to just one zombie stomping over her carousel. She was worried someone was hurt. In the middle of the night and away from the bulk of circus folk, she might be the only one who could help them. As long as she didn’t say ‘who’s there?’ or ‘I’ll be right back’, she hoped she’d survive the next few minutes without a violent stabbing death.

  In the morning, she’d have to ask Madoc for something to defend herself with. Even a small two-by-four beam was better than her little fists.

  Caroline unlatched the door as quietly as she could, keeping the lock hinge from snapping by cushioning it with her other hand. Then she turned off the light near the entrance, lifted the door and hoped to God that it was well-oiled and wouldn’t creak. It didn’t.

  She climbed out into the cage.

  She wasn’t really afraid of him being a zombie. Monsters weren’t real. But there were plenty of bad people who did scary things without magic or claws to help them.

  Caroline’s best defense in this case was to run. In her carousel cabin, if the person found her, she’d be trapped. Up here, a man might catch her, but she’d have a chance to escape with a head start and a scream. She had a good pair of lungs on her and knew how to use them. If she could just get Lord Mikhail out here or perhaps one of the muscular aerialists, that would be all she needed.

  Another moan. Now that she was out of her shell, she heard the plaintive edge. A sound of pain. Any thought of running drifted from her sleep-addled but fear-stimulated brain like mist from a storm.

  She didn’t speak in case it was a ruse—because if this were a horror movie, it would totally be a ruse—but she tiptoed closer to the shadowy figure illuminated by the dim lights of the carousel. They stayed on even when the full bright lights had been turned off, like the tiny safety lights in theaters.

  It was a man.

  He didn’t have a shirt, exposing the wide expanse of his back where he hunched over. He had a darker complexion, either a deep tan or perhaps Hispanic. He wasn’t tall, maybe three or four inches taller than she was if he were standing all the way up. He was built like a fireplug, with broad shoulders, a barrel chest and thick, lightly furred arms and legs, none of him soft to the curious caress of her gaze. He wore black leather shorts that barely reached mid-thigh, like the aerialists and the tattooed man. But this man wasn’t one of those three.

  Black cloth pooled at his feet.

  “Are you okay?” Caroline asked. She regretted it almost as soon as she spoke. But was she supposed to just stand there or run if this man was hurt?

&n
bsp; The man straightened gingerly and turned around, slow as a dream, as though she hadn’t woken up from her sleep at all—as though this was just a lucid, detailed extension of that dream that had left her overheated, sensitive to the lace at the edge of her panties and the thin cotton over her nipples, the warm breeze over her bare arms and legs and ruffling her loose hair against her shoulders. Even in the dim light, she got an eyeful of his face contorted in despair, his chest slick with sweat and the thick, dark hair that led down his abdomen to the open shorts.

  Even if they hadn’t been open, he wouldn’t have been able to completely conceal the angry, dark erection that jutted out at her. It looked even more rigid than the contours of his muscles, the veins and ridges defined to a ridiculous degree, as though they had been carved from flesh-colored stone. So entranced was she by the state of his cock—the cock of a stranger, a large stranger that could do anything to her, and yet she still wasn’t running away—she hadn’t immediately noticed the leather tight around the bottom of the shaft and pulling his scrotum down.

  Questions drifted through her mind, like why he hadn’t taken the cock ring off if he was in so much pain. Like what he was doing here on the carousel if he was in too much discomfort to walk. Like what the hell he was doing in Arcanium and on her carousel with a cock ring on when his expression said he wasn’t here of his own volition.

  Then she saw the pole behind him. The carousel pole. An empty pole, with the cloth at his feet and a saddle behind it, but no wooden mount. Suddenly it all made sense to her.

  This really was a dream.

  He was one of the tormented carousel men, and she was dreaming about him because her hormones had been doing some crazy shit after all those damn sexy circus performances. With the memory of Lord Mikhail, the aerialists, the contortionist, and Madoc and Maya, it was no wonder she was having the mother of all sex dreams. It no longer surprised or scared her that there was a chiseled hunk of a man in distress on her carousel where the mount was supposed to be. The fact that he wore open shorts and a cock ring no longer worried her.