Chapter 02

On the other side of the slip, the address and show times were printed in the same glitter ink that outlined the ghost picture. It was on my bed where I had placed it with my school things two hours ago, when I came home from school. I would still have an hour and a half to go to the first show, if I went now. The house was empty, as it was every Friday night. I would have no problem catching a bus to ride into town. The only problem was I would feel out of character to venture out without knowing everything about where I was stepping into. I had a routine. I'm not outgoing because of my appearance. I never wanted to unshed my mask in public, most likely my fear of other's opinions stopping me so. But if I was so against going against my nature, why do I long to grab hold of this ticket and run off into the night? The urge was there, unlocked in all of my emotions I have thought I had tightly wound up within myself. I have always wanted to see new places, explore a bit of the unknown; like every character in books I have been obsessed with reading. Only I have never planned to do it when still trapped under my parent's rule. Their grip was not strong, but it was still there if ever I were to stumble out of the boundaries that every family has set.

I closed my eyes as I leaned against my cold window. Why am I frightened of going out of my own house? What has made me this way? I used to be such a happy girl, loud and sociable. I can't remember when or where I have change. It's like there is a jump of memories to a friendly, hyper girl to a quiet and humble teenager. I glanced at the clock again; fifteen minutes have gone by in my musings. I would only have ten more minutes to be able to change and run out to the bus. I know if I didn't go now I surely won't build up my nerve to any other time during the weekend. I will go. I need to go. I have to go. This might perhaps be the last chance I have to peek back into the life I once knew. To go back to my childhood's traits; to start my journey early of seeing new sights now instead of later.

I stripped off my school clothing and jumped into my closet, flicking through all the racks of clothing I have ever owned, which wasn't much. In the end I picked out a worn out pair of black jeans and a dark blue, long sleeve shirt. Simple, comfortable, and as outgoing as I can be with my wardrobe and money budget. The ticket I picked up as quickly as I could before running downstairs, grabbing my bag of books and other womanly supplies. Once out the door, I was free. I ran all the way to the bus stop, regretting it as I ran out of breath quickly and my oversize body complaining of this uncommon exercise. I made on it time though, almost missing the bus by two minutes. As I paid for my fare and sat down, I smiled to myself. It felt good to get out. Now all I have to do is step off the bus, go to the show building, and sit in my seat to see the mystery show I was promised I would enjoy.

I arrived on time to the building of the show. It was in the dark part of the town, where most of the bars and clubs were, but it was enough on the edge that children would still be able to venture out to see. A line had already gathered in front of two set doors. I took my place and begin to inch toward the ticket holder's position. Once I reached him I handed my ticket and waited. He took one look at the ticket and reached down at a box near his feet and snatched another pass with a thin thread necklace. He pushed towards me and went on to taking tickets without giving any other necklace passes to customers. I went inside, going straight pass the bathrooms and vendors into a circle room with seats in four sections, leaving room in-between for two doors to let the audience through, as the other two entrances were probably for the performers. I sat to the left, in the back toward the top, middle hidden by the shadows.

Almost all the seats were filled, there were only a few people looking around to find places to sit. As soon as the last person sat down, the lights dimmed and silence fell upon the audience. A spotlight burst into action, illuminating a single dark hair man, dressed in only a pair of clown red pants, his chest decorated in henna drawings of all types of animals ranging from birds on his shoulders to snakes around his belly. His face was tight with a grin that made him look excited just to be standing there in the spotlight, which made his small goatee shiver in delight.

He spoke in a clear, strident tone, "Good evening ladies and gentlemen. I am the Ringmaster Reed. Welcome to Circus of the Night!" A puff of smoke rose around him, then dissolving leaving in his place a young boy around the age of twelve wearing the same clothing as the ring master, except his chest was covered with drawings of natural elements. His hair though was not dark but a light blond, also even white.

The performer boy grinned just like the ringmaster did before him, as he pulled out three fifteen inch, long rods. All three rods were colorfully decorated with ribbons of red, green, and blue. Taking his stance, he threw the rods into the air and snatched them back in perfect order to toss them back up. This simple juggling he work at it for a few seconds, then an helper dressed in black crouched in front of him with a lengthy dark bag. The assistant brought out more rods and started adding them to the rhythm circle the boy had formed, until he had a steady flow of sixteen or so rods flying a few feet into the air. As soon as he was stable, the assistant scurried away back into the shadows. The boy shifted and let on of the rods drop, but before it hit the floor his foot darted out and kicked the rod back into place with the side of his shoe. Every three rods, one would fall and he would alternate feet to kick them back up into the circle. He then closed his eyes for his next section of his act as he walked around the ring, almost dancing as he bends his knees and jumps. It was mesmerizing to watch, amazed that not once did he drop any of those rods or lose the pace that he was throwing them at. Then coming back to the middle of the ring, he took a deep breath as he jumped on a spring board, that was placed a few moments ago without notice from the audience, and flipped into the air with the rods breaking out of their pattern. He landed kneeling, with two hands stretched out, catching eight rods in each hand.

Applause broke out from around the stands, still a bit stun of his performance. I clapped along with the crowd, amazed that someone so young could be so skilled. He must have practiced everyday to become an accomplished juggler, if that is the proper term to call what he just performed.

Ringmaster Reed walked out to the middle of the ring as the juggler left the stage area. "Let's hear another round of applause for our youngest juggler, Troy Jongleur everyone!" Applause rang out once again. As the audience settled down once more, Ringmaster Reed said, "Now, for our next act for the evening, may I present our Widow Spider Climbers."

Four girls with braided long hair skipped out around the ring, as two white, cloth ropes descended from above. The Widow Spider Girls were dressed in black and red tights covering and molding everywhere to their body except their heads. The older girls were very tan in the faces and moved with the grace of a ballerina. One of the younger girls had darker skin than the others as the other one was pale in the spotlights. They didn't move as elegantly as their older partners but still was sturdy from training.

The two of the smaller girls, grasped the cloth rope and started with climb up with their arms. As they positioned themselves near the middle of each rope, the larger girls took hold of the ends and began to twirl the line slowly, spinning the young girls in the middle. Then the girls on rope started weaving themselves in different positions from wrapping the cloth around their legs, stretching out in ridged reaching out with their arms to grasp their ankles from behind, to bending upside down and twisting every which way as they were spinning. Soon the two girls stopped pulling the ropes and began to climb themselves as other people dressed in black came to take their placed to secure the cords. As the taller girls reached the smaller girls, whose legs were split along side the ropes and their bodies firm and their arms in front of them. The older spider girls climb around and clasped their hands with the younger girls. They ended their act as they bended and looped their arms and legs to form a web, resembling a spider's nest.

I gasped light along with everyone else as they held that position for one moment before all four of them dropping to the ground, landing on their feet. The light skin young girl stumbled for a second before bowing with the rest of her group, hiding a small blush under her gaze.

"The Widow Spider Climbers, everyone!" Ringmaster Reed yelled again, coming from behind. The girls bowed once more for their cheers then bounced away.

"For our last performance…"

I jumped as I felt something tapping my ankle. With the benches set up, anyone could slip underneath to where I was sitting. Slowly I glanced down, shifting my legs so that they weren't near the open gap. A dark skin hand poked through. It tapped around and then disappeared. A second later it reappeared placing a folded paper where my feet were resting before. I picked it up, unfolding it, and began to read.

Meet behind the back stage now if you would like a special tour.

Oh wow, a special tour? I look back to the front stage were a large man was bending metal bars. I crouch done as quietly as I could and slipped underneath the bleachers where the person must have slipped the note from. I tug my bag with me and walked around until I found an entrance door marked Backstage. As I pressed my hand against the cool metal, it swung open that startled me stepping back a few paces to see who had open the door for me. It was the one younger, dark girl from the Widow Spider cluster smiling broadly with a sweat stain face peeking through. She motioned me to come through stepping to the side and then proceeded on closing the door firmly as I staggered by.

The room underneath the stage was the basement with dim electrical lights and candles outlining the shelves on the walls. In the center there stood a round table with makeup and other supplies slipping near the edge. Around the corners of the room pieces of cloth covered the other doors and equipment of rods, ropes, and other materials were stacked in messy piles. There were many other people standing or sitting around the room, clad in exotic costumes and poses. I recognized the juggling boy and the other girls from the swinging act. The only people that were missing that I would identify with are the Ringmaster and the guy who had given me the ticket in the first place. Surrounded with these strangers of pleasures of the eye, I kept my eyes down and waited for someone to approach me.

The girl who opened the door guided me forward, "Welcome guest of the night, to our lovely dwelling under the stage. This here is our caravan of mischief and yet talented band of merry merchants. My name is Hessa O'Lay. As you saw earlier before, I am part of the Widow Spiders along with my sister mates, Belle and Desiree the older girls, and my partner Ida." The climbers smiled from their corner but then went back to their game of cards. Hessa then went and introduced me with each and every member in the room from stage hands to performers. The names floated pass me, as if I cared to remember them all. I knew that I wouldn't be returning, so why try when there was no point?

After the introductions were taken care of I shyly muttered my name and kept my eyes downcast. I didn't have to wait long to be the focus of this awkward presence. From the entrance I hear a thunder of applause which must have been a cue to everyone in the room to leave for their last performance. Once everyone filtered out of the room I was left with only a elderly man in a robe meditating and a young man ignoring everyone to continue cleaning some daggers. No one had mentioned if I should leave or stayed so I backed away until I hit a chair and fell into it. I accomplished what I came to do, go out and see a free show, so now my nerve was running thin. I didn't know anyone or even know how to talk to anyone here and it was making me a little unsteady.

"What is your name again?"

My head shot up to the direction where the man was sitting. He hadn't moved his head or made any motion towards me as he continued to clean his weaponry. I studied him for a brief minute. He was tall and broad, as if he stepped out of a magazine fashion cover. He was in costumed of black leather pants and a white open shirt. No tattoo graced his skin but on a further glanced I noticed deep scars on his arms and chest. His brown hair was cropped short revealing two jewel pierced ears on each side.

I said slowly, "Um, I'm Emberlynn Ryedir." I stared at the door then back at him. The full day was starting to get to me. All the energy I had before I used up with my small spurt of confidence. Now I just wanted to go home and get to my nice warm bed and dream of this experience in full.

"You should leave." He spoke once more.

I gave one last glance before following his command and heading toward the doors I came through before.

Before I could open then he said, "Don't accept anything."

I turned back around.

He continued staring straight at me, "When he comes to you again. Don't accept what is offered."

Truly I wanted to ask him why not? I wanted to open my mouth and speak loud and clear what I should not accept? But instead I stared weakly and turned my head down from his peering eyes. Though I lingered by the door... in the end I left. Leaving his advice with him.