A Magician Never Tells His Secrets

“You seemed a little freaked out back there,” Daw said as we walked across the fairground. She was taking me to her caravan, the place I would be staying for my three months. She’d told me when we were leaving, and I’d been moved by her generosity. When Mary had explained that we were coming to stay Daw offered us both room in her van. It was too small for Tori, so she was going to stay with a girl from the Lost Kids, someone called Galina.
“Galina’s an idiot,” Daw had said. “Frivolous and giggly. She’s a belly-dancer so I’m not really surprised. A total idiot.”
“She and Tori will get along then,” I giggled guiltily.
I tried my best to smile, to show Daw that I was glad she’d taken me in, glad that I was there. But Daw had seen through my mask. She’d seen the inner turmoil and anxiety which had surfaced when I’d learnt of the divisions in the carnival. I felt as if there was a dark shadow approaching. Some sort of ominous cloud. I was worried.
I looked up at her concerned face, her six-times pierced eyebrows lightly furrowed.
“I’m fine,” I said, my voice sounding breathy and insubstantial.
“Sorry that you had to see that,” she said, nodding back to the way we’d come. “But I guess you know now, that it’s not all butterflies and rainbows here.”
I nodded.
“Buck up love,” Daw said, nudging me. “It’s almost time to set up shop. Opening night of the carnival tonight.”
It was true, all through the day carnies and mechanics had been arriving. I’d been surprised at the little amount of time it took to set up the rides, the stalls and the lights. It had barely been eight hours and already the place was starting to look like the one I’d left behind.
“Right,” I said, forcing my brain to concentrate. “What do I have to do?”
“You?” Daw laughed. “Your job’s easy. Tickets are one for a dollar. Five for four bucks, ten for seven. All you need to remember.”
That did sound easy.
“So what do you do in your show?” I asked; my interested peaking.
“I have an easier job than you. I just sit there and people stare at me.”
I shot her a quick gaze, taking in all of her gold adornments. The piercings up each side of her nose. The metal sticking out of her nostrils. The barbs which divided her brows into thirds. The gold sphere which lived in her labret. And the focus point, the spiral of gold rings around and around her neck.
“It must be awful,” I said softly. “Having idiots gawk at you.”
Daw shrugged. “I’m used to it by now. Lived with it all my life.”
As she saw my wide eyes she elaborated. “My parents got me wound when I was three,” she said, pointing to her neck. “It was insane to do it so young. Most of the time the rings get put on at puberty, but my rents wanted a baby giraffe neck. We were poor, and we lived in the poorest part of Rangoon. That’s in Burma.
“There people would deform their children so they could beg. My deformity was considered strange, even beautiful. I drew the crowds more than the tiny armless children. By the time I was six my parents had enough money to send me to the U.S, to send me to Magic and Mischief. Ever since, Mary and the Shi’s have looked after me. And I’ve never looked back. Never heard from my parents since. I sometimes wonder about my siblings, I had about five brothers and sisters, I think. I’m not too sure. I don’t remember it much.”
I stared at her, my mouth wide open. I had stopped walking long ago.
“Hey,” Daw chuckled uncomfortably. “Now who’s the idiot gawking at me.”
I shut my mouth, but continued to stare. “Oh my god,” I breathed.
Daw shrugged.
“A lot of other people had it worse than I did. I’ve never been raped or beaten or sold. You should listen to the Russian’s stories. Now that will bring a tear to your eye.”
“I always knew I had it easy,” I murmured, looking at the gravel. “But, you guys, you’re all so young, and to have such a life…”
“Whoa,” Daw laughed. “Chill. Don’t worry about us. We’ve made a life with the cards we’ve been given. Now let’s go get you ready for your first shift.”