Freaks and Fortune

Mr. Charles Brentworth Piccadilly III was staring at me with such intense golden eyes that I thought I was going to pull that face-melt thing that they did in Indiana Jones.

His full costume gave off the air that he was going to lead a parade. His red jacket had gold trimmings and gold buttons that stretched across his massive chest. He clutched in his hand his sleek black over coat and top-hat.

Anthony had obviously gotten his sandy hair from his mother and not his jet-black father, but his boyish good looks and bottle-green eyes were definitely paternal.

Cal had slipped two fingers into my back belt loop. He could clearly sense that I was nervous and, since his job depended on my staying in the room, he wanted to make sure I was rooted to the spot. He had pathetically tried to liven me up and make me presentable to Mr. Piccadilly but, after he started to violently rake a brush through my hair, I waved him off.

But now I wish I'd taken up Savannah, the black haired girl's, offer. But no, I had to turn down her mountains of make-up and jewelry.

"He'll like me if he likes me," I'd said.

How could I have been so stupid?

I was getting slightly sweaty. All of a sudden, I needed this job. I wanted a name for myself in this place. At that moment, I wanted the job of (replacement) Kissing Booth Girl more than anything else in the world.

"What's the gimmick?" he asked suddenly, after the eternity of intense speculation was done.
Cal jumped at this. He placed a leather-clad hand on my shoulder. I resisted the urge to shake it off as he explained his idea to Mr. Piccadilly in a breathless voice.

"We give the customers an incentive," he proposed eagerly. "Besides the opportunity to kiss a pretty girl. We give her a power a quirk."
"I like it," the ringmaster nodded. "What's the quirk?"
"Luck!" Cal shouted, positively beaming. "We call her Ivy Fortune and sprinkle her with gold dust! It'll be a hit. Kiss Ivy Fortune and have incredible luck for the rest of the day!"
"Lady Luck..." Mr. Piccadilly mused.

He twirled the end of his mousy mustache and suddenly grinned.

"You got the job," he said curtly, bowing slightly.

Relief and a strange sense of satisfaction overwhelmed me. Mr. Piccadilly left the cabin. Cal sank to the floor, covering his face and breathing a great sigh of relief. He stayed there on his back, looking like he was about to hyperventilate.

"Congrats," Savannah mumbled, absorbed in her book.
"Stop breathing so loud, Cal! I've got a headache!" the blonde boy shouted from under the pillow.
"My job!" he was gasping. "I'm not fired! I'm not fired!"

The blonde boy lifted the pillow away to scowl at him. He caught sight of me and blinked heavily.

"You're pretty," he said, surprised.
"Thanks. You've got gills."
"Thanks!" he said, grinning broadly. He turned to Cal, who was still on the floor. "I like her! She likes my gills!"
I laughed airily.

"I'm Aqua Boy, but you can call me Aqua," he greeted me, holding out his translucent hand. "My real name's Gregory Home. Don't call me Gregory, Greg, Homey, Holmes, Sherlock, or any variation of the above."
I grasped his hand and tried not to look at the way his gills were flapping in time with his even breathing.

"I'm Ivy Bailey," I told him.

"Bailey!?" he cried, incredulous. He dropped my hand like it was burning. "Are you shitting me?"
"I... Um... No?"
"You might as well tell everyone that you're the long lost Ringling sister!"
I suddenly got it. "Oh! You mean like Barnum and Bailey's Family Circus?"
"Shhh!" he hissed, jumping up out of his bed and placing a hand over my mouth. "That phrase is like an atom bomb here!"
I tried to figure out if he was joking or not.

"You can't tell anyone that that's your real name," he warned. "What was that name you gave her for the show, C?"
"Ivy Fortune," Cal replied, getting up from the floor. "It suits her new job, yeah?"
"Yeah," Aqua agreed. He looked me in the eyes. "Ivy Fortune, okay?"
"Okay..." I said slowly.

Aqua got back into bed, mumbling evil things about Barnum and Bailey's. He put the pillow back over his face, breathing heavily.

I moved over to sit down on my new bed. I wondered if they'd let me go and get my stuff... Or would they tell me that my new life as Ivy Fortune required new things?

Cal leaned up against the bed frame, resting his chin on the post near Savannah's head.

"I'm not getting fired, Sav," he said in a hopeful voice.
"I'm aware of that, Cal."
"Are you happy?"

She slowly dog-eared the page of her book and turned to him.

"Sure, Cal. I'm happy." Her tone was bored, but he must have taken it in a different way. He put one foot on the first rung of the ladder to climb up into her bunk. In a split second, she was on the ground. If I had blinked, I would have missed it. She tossed the book aside, gripped the headboard, and flipped over it, her back arching impossibly.

Cal looked surprised. He caught sight of Savannah, obviously the Circus's Contortionist, in the splits on the cabin floor.

"You always do that," he laughed. I noticed a distinct hurt tone creeping into his voice.

-_-_-_-_-

"You don't have to work today," Savannah told me, picking a piece of lint from her black, skin-tight leotard. "Mr. Piccadilly said to give you the day to move... Settle in, you know?"
I nodded.

Cal leaned over the unsuspecting Savannah and took her earlobe in his lips. She gasped immediately turned a back-tuck. Cal reached out for her after her feet padded quietly on the ground. She ducked under him lazily, as if it were routine.

"Idiot!" she scolded. "You don't even have your gloves on!"
"If I put them on, would you let me touch you?"

She scowled deeply at Cal as he laughed and left the room, tapping out a drum beat on his chest. He pulled his fingerless gloves out of the waistband of his black jeans and slipped them on. Cocky and confident, he moved like Mick Jaggar dances, hips swaying and feet kicking.

Aqua was looking in the mirror, chuckling and finishing his hair with a bit more gel. "That never gets old."
Savannah sighed and rolled her eyes. "It's not funny!"
I was sitting on my single bed, leaning up against the wall.

"What's not funny?" I asked.
"Cal's had a giant crush on Sav since the beginning of time," Aqua told me.
"For the longest time I thought was just innocent flirting," Savannah muttered darkly, hiding her face in embarrassment.
I suppressed a giggle.
"He barged in, middle of the night, completely wasted," she explained, a crease between her eyebrows. "Shit-faced drunk. Told me he loved me, belched, and then proposed."
"Marriage?!" I shrieked.
She laughed. "Yeah. Got a lot of problems, that one."

Aqua looked at the digital clock on his bedside table. "We've got five minutes to check-in," he said. "Let's go."

"Bye," Savannah piped, rushing, her ballet shoes in her arms, to the door.
"Don't run away while we're gone!" Aqua laughed, shoving on sunglasses to protect his sensitive eyes before he stepped out into the sun.

I lounged around the cabin for a while, looking at everyone's posters and pictures that they hung over their beds. Aqua had letters from home taped to the top of his bunk so that he could look at them as he fell asleep. There was also a wallet-sized picture of Angelina Jolie up there.

Savannah also had a lot of postcards. Although I didn't read any of them, I noticed that most of them were from exotic places. Italy, Africa, Iceland.

Cal had no letters. He had no posters. He only had one picture tucked up under the hook that held his hammock up. It was creased, as if it had been in his pocket for a long time. Faded from wear and tear.

A dark-haired father, solemnly staring at something on the other side of the camera. His face was somber and there was something in the eyes that suggested lack of sleep. The mother, however, was staring straight into the camera lens, her smile turning into a half-laugh as the picture was taken.

Her fair hair cascaded down her shoulders. Her laugh lines crinkled elegantly, as if they were proud to be there. In her slender arms, she held a baby boy. A brush of black hair hung limply over his forehead. One tiny hand was wrapped around one of his mother's fingers, the other was reaching up for his father.

I held it in my hands, for some reason, feeling as if it held some great mystery. The front steps creaked and the door was flung open. I whorled around just in time to see Cal stoop down to retrieve his leather jacket off the floor.

"Forgot my..." he began, but trailed off once he saw the picture in my hands. "What are you doing?"

My heart fluttered like a hummingbird's wings.

"I was... I was..."
"You were going through my stuff!" he accused, snatching the picture. He folded it along the familiar crease and tucked it into his back pocket.

He scowled at me over his shoulder as he left the cabin.

"No privacy around here..." he muttered.

I was stunned into silence. I had never seen someone so protective over a single photograph before. I shook my head, deciding that Cal held a lot of hidden secrets.

It took me less than twenty minutes to finish moving my stuff from Cabin B-2 into the Freak's cabin. I caught sight of two men building a new stand. It was being painted gold. I smiled, hoping secretly that it was mine.

Another twenty minutes passed by and I was already unpacked, loading my clothes into the drawers in the dresser that had previously belonged to Jenny. I found another one of her tops, this one was light blue and off-the-shoulder. I gagged and tossed it under Aqua's bed.

The hours passed and I gave into boredom. I crawled into bed and decided to take a nap to pass the time.