All out and Over

Malory walked, carefully placing her feet around the muddy grounds. Her black shoes were filthy enough. I am not polishing these damned things again tonight. Cara kept up, though her movements weren’t as smooth. They never were. Clumsy girl! Malory waved to several people as she passed, giving them that kind smile that so often brought people close to her while holding them at arms’ length. People are too trusting; just a simple grin draws them into the lies of their past and future. That’s the way she liked it. People should not near things of beauty unless properly invited. Malory lightly shook her head as the thought entered her mind. As soon as she imagined the word beauty her brain automatically saw the face that haunted her mirror; crows’ feet around her eyes, dark circles to match, wrinkles beginning around her forehead and mouth. Is my chin beginning to droop down to my sagging breasts? Her body aged as did her face. She was not beau…

“Are you okay?” Cara asked with a light touch to Malory’s elbow. The fortune teller flinched away from the girl’s touch, too possessed by her own past to see any of the present, to see the pained look that crossed her face.

“Of course,” Malory answered aloud. ‘No, I hate these stupid people. I hate you. All I want is the proper home I was once promised,’ she said inside her head. “Why wouldn’t I be alright?”

“You look like you’re far away, and that bitch acrobat just waved at you; you didn’t wave back.” Cara half growled the word ‘acrobat’ as she turned her face from the woman scantily dressed in a white leotard with sheer, sparkling leggings. The same material that covered her legs covered her arms too. ‘Put some clothes on, you slut,’ Malory growled in her head while silently wondering how many marriages had the girl ruined by sneaking off into a porta potty with one of the circus’ visitors.

“Be polite,” Malory said. Her voice was thick and dripped with the sweetness of honey. The acrobat began walking toward Malory. More like slinking; her toes pointed with each step she took, hips swayed this way and that. What? Does she think she can tame a snake with those hips? Malory stopped her advance toward the dining tent and turned to face Cara. She tucked a curled flame behind her ear. “It’s easier to catch flies with honey than vinegar.” She stated.

“Hey, Mal!” The acrobat cooed as she came to a sashaying halt. Malory wanted to slap her. Instead, she curled her lip in distaste.

“My name is Malory,” she half hissed. Her hazel eyes darkened with anger before she turned them to a small embellishment on her left index fingernail. The black paint chipped a little in the center because of her impatience with tarot cards. “Say it correctly, or not at all.”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the acrobat place a hand on her petite but wide hips and roll her eyes. Her flat stomach bulged out with a deep sigh before it went flat enough to show a ribcage similar to a washboard again. The chip in Malory’s black paint became a full blown hole.

“Malory,” the girl said reluctantly, almost as if it were more of a hassle that climbing 20 feet off the ground and swinging from a trapeze or hula hoop.

The fortune teller moved in her shroud of mystery to face the girl. Her skin was flawless, the color of cinnamon before it had been cooked; her eyes, almond shaped and slanted a little, were wide and bright. The hand on her hip dropped as a broad smile filled her face. Malory’s honey coated lie was back, firmly in place as she held out her hand. The girl took it with glee.

“Now, that wasn’t so hard,” Malory laughed. “What brings you into my conversation this evening?” She glanced back at Cara who stood looking at her muddy shoes. “Have you met my friend?”

The acrobat ignored Cara completely as she dropped Malory’s hand. “I was hoping you could find time to do a reading for me and my friend?”

Malory put her hands on her hips now. “I don’t do favors for just anyone, Dear.”

“But I-“

She cut the acrobat off with a wave of her hand. “Offer to pay me? What do you have that I don’t? We get paid the same, actually I make more, I think. My quarters are a lot nicer than your bunks. What do you have that I could possibly want?”

The girl began to stutter, trying to come up with a legible answer. Malory was right, though. There was nothing the foolish girl could give her. The fortune teller took a step forward before the acrobat caught her arm. She stood on her tiptoes and whispered to Malory.

“I have secrets. I’ll give them to you.”

She almost laughed out loud. As if she didn’t know who the girl was hooking up with already. “There is nothing I don’t know about you. You think I didn’t see that man—the one in the white washed jeans and Ramones t-shirt—that you snuck away with. Did you know about his three children? From the looks of his wife there will be a forth announced soon.”

Her face fell as her skin paled, but she did not release Malory. “No, not about me,” she whispered. Malory raised her brow.

“Come see me tomorrow morning, early! Before my clients start showing up; I don’t want anyone waiting because of a favor.”

Malory pulled herself free from the acrobat’s bruising hand, and smiled at her friend who watched the scene from the sidelines. She entered the dining tent, positive of Cara’s expectant gaze on her back as she grabbed the disgusting mush they passed for food tonight. Several people waved at her, wanting her company, wanting her tricks. She denied their company for an empty table where Cara sat across from her.

“Why are secrets so important?” Cara mused as she took a bite of the gray-green mush. Malory forked some up, sniffed it, and put it back down. It smelled like old garbage mixed with road kill and chili powder.

“Because people hold them dear, Firecracker. What if someone knew something very bad about you? Something you wanted no one to remember ever again? What would you do for them?”

Cara blushed furiously, almost becoming one of her dancing flames, before she shrugged. “Whatever they wanted, I guess.”

Malory cracked her lips; a small precious moment of truth crossed them. A half smile that she showed no one because no one knew anything about her graced her features. In the blink of an eye it was gone. Cara’s eyes looked up to meet her face as Malory’s eyes bore into those perfect limpid pools that lit up the world. His pearly white smile, grinning like his toothy animals, gleamed in the florescent lighting. The muscles in his arms bulged with tension as he crossed his arms over his chest. Those acrobat girls threw themselves at his feet, and he flirted happily to oblige any needs they might have. He made Malory sick. Sick with disgust; sick with desire. Her body reacted to the memory of his touch, while her stomach revolted against the thought of him.

His eyes met hers for a brief moment, the smile faded from his perfect full lips. He nodded his greeting before he ignored her entirely. You bastard! She growled in her head, throwing everything she could think of at him in the frenzied fantasy she let herself fall into.

“He’s here, isn’t he?” Cara’s voice was tender, almost afraid.

“I can’t eat this,” Malory stated. She rose from the table. “I have business to attend, Firecracker.”

Cara stood, leaving her tray on the table as Malory had, and they walked out of the tent. She could almost feel Dmitri’s eyes on the young girl walking beside her. He wondered what they were doing together, she was sure. I’m allowed to befriend whoever I want, aren’t I? Malory imagined herself telling him all sorts of lies if he was to ask her directly, but he wouldn’t. He hadn’t looked at her since he picked up his new toy.

Malory wanted to glare at Cara. She wanted to show her anger, but this wouldn’t work if she did. Unfortunately, she had to play with Dmitri’s toys to win the game, and she was determined to win. Cara climbed into her bunk after they arrived. Malory tucked another strand of her reddish locks away before she whispered her goodnight, leaving Cara with a little peck on the cheek. It was easy to leave the fire. Maybe it was because all Malory could feel was the ice forming in her veins.

As she walked, she forced herself to focus. The mission was simple. She had to go find Rickets. Clowns had all the info, at least in this circus they did. The Charivari were silent creatures who kept their eyes wide and their ears wider. Rickets would know something about Dmitri, and if he didn’t she would surly give him something juicy to spread.