Rise of the Ringmaster Read online

  I gasped and the tiger turned his attention toward me. His large lumbering body was covered with streaks of blood and he had a large gash on his left side. Holding up my hands to show him I had no weapons, I took a firm stance and looked him in the eye, willing him to hear me.

  Please, please, I thought, pushing the words to him. I saw the snake-like wisps reach toward the beast and gently caress its face. The tiger chuffed as I continued to urge him to remain calm. I don’t want to hurt you. I am here to help, I thought, giving the best calm face I could. He responded by turning his full body toward me and leaping off the bed. I shuddered as he padded toward me and sat at my feet, his wide black eyes never leaving mine.

  I saw his thoughts in my mind as they played out in a type of hazy image. The animal was communicating with me through pictures showing that he heard me call. I created an image in my head, a memory, of me petting him just earlier that day to show him I meant him no harm. As if he understood, he nodded slightly.

  Bad, he seemed to think, showing me a picture of my father slapping me across the face.

  “Yes,” I said out loud with a shaking voice. “He was bad.”

  No more. He shifted the image from my father hitting me to one of his current state. Safe.

  “Yes,” I repeated, nodding my head and lifting my hand to his head feeling the warm fur between my fingers. The tiger changed the image again, manipulating it into a calming picture of Lottie hugging his neck. The feeling of comfort and safety wrapped itself around me. He snorted beneath my hand pushing a bloodied ear against my palm.

  “Safe,” I told him. “Let’s return you to your cage.” I drew a picture of his cage with me leading him into the door and again he nodded once. I shifted my attention to Lottie, who was watching me carefully. She knew. She had to know. I had taken her gift and used it to my own will, to take out my biggest threat and my greatest fear. But I did so unknowingly and it would be something I needed to explain to her, but now was not the time.

  Backing out of the trailer slowly, everyone stepped away to give us room to make our way safely to the cage. The bloodied tiger looked around at the circle of people and whined softly.

  “Shh.” I tried to calm the animal by pushing the image of Lottie holding him into his mind. I patted my hand against him to let him know he was still okay.

  “Tongo, it’s okay, no one is going to hurt you,” Lottie crooned, reaching out to the animal gently. He noticed her and watched her carefully as if remembering who she was.

  “He-he doesn’t hear me,” Lottie said to me, not letting her eyes wander from the beast. “ I don’t feel his mind.” She shook her head and finally looked at me when Tongo turned his attention back. He chuffed and padded toward my outstretched hand, then rested his nose against my palm. Someone shifted in the circle and Tongo immediately swung in their direction.

  “No,” I yelled, holding my hands to the troupe, but it was too late. I heard the cock of the gun and a loud shot rang through the camp. It echoed off the trailers and slowly vanished into the midnight air, leaving everyone in utter shock.

  “What have you done?” Lottie cried, running to the beast. Tongo lay on his side, breathing rapidly, a large wound spilling blood on the hard ground. He looked at Lottie with wet eyes and blinked. I felt his confusion and suffering. He didn’t understand what was happening—he was scared.

  “Shh, it’s okay,” I reassured the tiger, petting his head gently and pushing love and affection toward him. I wanted to erase his pain, to steal it like I could powers, but it wasn’t something my tendrils could hold. Tears stung my eyes as his breathing slowed. Lottie lifted his head gently, placing it on her lap. She bent over and kissed his face, petting him over and over and telling him what a good tiger he was, and that she loved him. Everyone stood in silence as Tongo took his final breath, sending a single memory of meeting Lottie. He pushed the happiness and joy from his mind to mine. It wrapped around my aura like a warm blanket and tears fell from my eyes.

  “No. No, no, no,” Lottie cried, cradling the tiger and rocking him. “ Stay with me. Please.”

  Pulling her to me, I tried to release the memory Tongo shared into her mind. As it replayed for her, a small smile glistened against the tears staining her cheeks.

  “Oh, Tongo. I’m so sorry.”

  I felt the life fade away from Tongo. Taking a steady breath, I stood slowly. Surveying the group, my gaze landed on the person holding the gun. Seeing my glare, Giggles the clown stepped back in fear.

  “I-I didn’t...He was about to—” he stuttered, his round, pale face beading with sweat. Taking rapid, steady paces, I walked toward him.

  “About to what? Eat me? Jump on me? Tear me apart like he did my father?” I spat. “No. He wasn’t going to do any of that.”

  We stood eye to eye, his pupils widened in panic. “Y-you don’t know that,” he began.

  “Yes, I do. I had him under control.” I jerked the gun from his hands. Lifting it in one swift motion, I aimed at his head. The rifle felt warm in my hands—comfortable. His aura jumped from remorseful blue to a pulsing orange of fear.

  “What are you about to do? Should I kill you too because maybe,” I jabbed the barrel forward into his cheek, “maybe you will attack? Maybe you want to kill me and tear me apart.” Standing still against him, my aura tickled the ends of his fear. He gasped, feeling my darkness sweep over him. I didn’t know if he had any abilities—none one worth taking at least—but my power would find it. Coaxing my aura toward his mind, I felt his gift—a small bubble with the ability to shift any emotion to laughter. Feeling a chuckle in the back of my throat, I began to laugh.

  “Jacob?” Lottie stood behind me, her soft yoga pants covered with fresh tiger blood. Anger boiled inside me seeing her hurt and scared, but all I could do was laugh. Turning back, I ripped out his ability, taking it for my own, adding it to the collection growing in my mind.

  “What have you done?” he shouted.

  Letting the weapon down, I learned toward him. “I took a piece of you,” I growled. “You took a piece of our troupe. It was only fair.” Dropping the rifle, I left him with a hole in his mind and a mark from the hot barrel on his cheek. Finally, I stepped back. “You’re done here. Pack your things.”

  “You can’t do that,” he rebutted. “You’re not in charge.”

  “My father is dead,” I said loudly, making sure everyone heard. “He is dead and I am next in line. This circus is mine now and you will do as I say.”

  “No, he’s alive!” Hugo, the man who mixed the elixirs, yelled from the trailer door. “Someone call 911.” Frantically, everyone searched their pockets for a phone. A blonde trapeze artist held up her Nokia and began dialing. I heard her asking for help at the fairgrounds but I rushed back to the trailer to see for myself.

  Peering over the mutilated body, still spilling blood, I noticed a slight rise and fall of the chest.

  “Oh, my God,” I gasped. Hugo pushed past me and felt my father’s neck, careful not to press on any open wounds.

  “He has a pulse. It’s faint, but it’s there. He may survive this yet.” He looked up at me.“He’s pretty badly beaten, though—there’s no way to know for sure.”

  Deep down I wished he wouldn’t make it. If he survived, he would return as an even worse version of himself—if that were even possible—knowing his torn face would never be able to run the show again. Hearing the sirens wailing approach, I pushed the thought away and turned back to the table where pieces of my father were left.

  Paramedics carefully lifted his mangled body, strapped it to a gurney, and took him to the nearest hospital. I declined their offer to ride along and wait, knowing there was nothing I could do—and nothing I wanted to do—to help him.

  Giggles scoffed as I turned toward the group. Everyone was still standing by, waiting to know what would happen next. Immediately, I trained my glare on him again.

  “What?” I sneered. “You think you’re still allowed here just because he ma
y survive?”

  “Well, yeah,” he threw his arms up. “You have no say.”

  “Get out,” I snapped. He didn’t move and I stepped quickly to him. He flinched as I neared, but puffed his chest to show others he wasn’t afraid.

  I inhaled with my nose pointing at him then leaned in close. “I can smell your fear, Giggles.” I threatened. Everything around us faded into oblivion and it was just him and I standing nose to nose. His aura bounced quickly around him in a murky orange-brown hue of fear and confusion. My aura reached toward his and began to slowly consume it. Giggles winced as his aura drained and his skin started to pale.

  “Something wrong, Giggles?” I asked, feeling a sly smile creep onto my face. As black arms circled around the clown, his face shifted from worry to glee. His lips pulled at the side and his mouth opened wide releasing a loud, boisterous chuckle.

  “Stop,” he laughed. “Please, stop.” He winced but continued to cackle through the invisible pain.

  With every inhale, I drained his aura more, and with every bite I took, my own power built within me. I knew I was causing him pain, even though I was using his own ability against him. His falling tears were not tears of joy—but I couldn’t stop. The surge of adrenaline was addictive. I never wanted to let go, and I might not have if Lottie hadn’t gently placed her hand on my shoulder.

  “Jacob,” she murmured, bringing me back. “Don’t make a scene.” I exhaled a breath and stepped away from Giggles. His face fell and he wheezed to catch his breath as sweat dripped from his brow.

  “Get out,” I growled.

  Giggles huffed and stormed toward his trailer. Within a moment, the truck hauling it rattled to life and chugged its way out of the campsite. Taking Lottie’s hand, I led her away and back to my trailer. Before I opened the door, I turned back to the dissipating group.

  “Take the trailer and light it on fire. We move in two days and I expect you all to be ready.”

  “And the tiger?” someone asked. I paused and looked at Tongo’s motionless body.

  “There is a vet coming to take the tiger,” Lottie said in a trembling whisper. I acknowledged her with a nod.

  “Cover the tiger with a clean sheet. Someone wait for the vet and tell me when they arrive.” I squeezed Lottie’s hand and opened the door to my trailer letting her in before me. Closing the door behind us, I sank into the table and let myself fall apart at her hands.

  “What have I done?” I asked, my head falling into my hands. She scooted next to me and wrapped her arms around my shoulders.

  “It’s okay. We will be okay. We just...just...need...hell, I don’t know, but right now there’s nothing we can do but wait and see if your father recovers.”

  “I’m so sorry, Lottie.” I grabbed her hands. “I know how much you loved that tiger.”

  Lottie bit her trembling lip to stifle her sob, but she sputtered and fell to pieces before my chest. I held her close and ran my fingers through her hair.

  “He was so kind, so gentle. I don’t understand why he would do this.” She sobbed. Her tears soaked through my shirt, but it only made me hold her tighter.

  “It’s my fault,” I confessed. “I did this.”

  “No, it was an accident. I mean, I guess I don’t know that for sure anymore, I thought he was okay here. I thought he liked us but—”

  “Shh,” I stopped her, pulling her close.“I will explain it all in the morning.” I pulled her face to mine and looked her deep in the eyes. “I promise, I will explain everything.” I kissed her tear wet lips and her cheek, tasting the salty paths the tears left and held her gently.

  The vet arrived not long after with two assistants in tow and respectfully removed the tiger. Before they left, they told Lottie where she could come for his ashes.

  “Thank you,” she said, then watched with tears in her eyes as he drove away with her friend.

  Wrapping my arm around her shoulders. Her sad blue aura pulsed slowly around her. “You okay?” I asked.

  “I will be.” She looked up and gave me a soft smile. “Let’s go see your dad.”

  “Lottie—” I began.

  “No, you need to see him. If only just to say your goodbyes. If he doesn’t make it and you’re not there you will never forgive yourself.”

  “Wouldn’t I?” I asked, hoping she would answer what I had been asking myself the whole time.

  “You’re a better man than him.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that anymore. “Okay,” I gave in. “Let’s go.”

  The doctor explained how they put my father into a medically induced coma. His wounds were so extensive that his body couldn’t handle the pain. They told me he may never wake up, and that even if he did, he would never be the same person he was before—whether that was a good or bad thing I hadn’t decided.

  “So, what do we do now? Wait?” I asked the doctor as I stood at the end of my father's bed. He was hooked to multiple machines, all pulsing and pumping fluids into him. A tube ran down his throat, helping him breathe and his chest rose and fell as it forced air in and out.

  “Yes, we never know how long it will take someone to heal and with the wounds his body has it could be days, weeks, or even months.”

  “Months!” I felt faint. We couldn’t wait around for him for months. Not if we were going to keep the circus running. Plus we didn’t have insurance and there was no way for me to pay for all these expenses.

  “I know it seems like a lot, it can be very overwhelming, but we will take it one day at a time.”

  “I can’t sit around and wait for him. I have a job—people that count on me.”

  “No one said you had to be here the entire time. We have nurses and staff that will monitor him. You are free to come and go as needed and we will call you if there are any urgent changes in his condition.”

  I nodded as he spoke but my eyes did not move from my father. It was one of the first times I had seen him so vulnerable, exposed, and hurt. Truthfully, he looked at peace.

  Lottie’s warm hand slipped inside mine and I squeezed it for comfort.

  “How is his brain activity?” she asked the doctor.

  “It’s weak, but it’s there. You can see here.” He pointed to a machine that was printing paper with spikes and lines. “These show that the brain is still functioning.”

  “And what happens if it stops?” I asked.

  Lottie looked at me with moist eyes. “Jacob, you can’t think like that.”

  “I’m trying to be prepared, Lottie. I need time to process it all if the worst happens.”

  She nodded, understanding everything had happened so quickly. I knew she felt overwhelmed as well, still grieving the tiger—it showed in the soft muted hues of her aura.

  “Well, if the brain activity stops then the machines will continue to work and keep him breathing.”

  “But he’ll be dead.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Yes, his body will only be functional because of the machines at that point, but I assure you we are doing everything we can to prevent that.”

  I ran my hands over my face with no idea what I was supposed to do now. “Okay, thank you.”

  After giving the doctor a number to reach us, he and Lottie left me alone with my father. Moving around the bed, I leaned close to his ear.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, feeling tears sting the corner of my eyes. “But this is what you deserved.” I pulled away to leave, but guilt hit my stomach like a brick. I had already lost my mother; if he were to pass I would have no family left in the world.

  “I love you,” the words were sharp and foreign on my tongue. My shoulders tightened as I watched my father for any sort of reaction, but the machines only whirred and hummed as they worked to keep him alive. I left the hospital that day not knowing if I’d ever be back to see him. Little did I know I would never get the chance.

  VIII

  The next morning I sat Lottie at the table and explained everything. I told her about my father, the beatings
, the psychic abilities—how I didn’t have one and then I suddenly did—how I stole my father’s, how I accidentally stole hers, and how I can sense people's auras. She listened to the whole story without saying a word, sipping her coffee slowly, and nodding at appropriate times as she let me explain in full before deciding if I was insane.

  “And that’s how I was able to control Tongo last night. It was an accident. I didn’t know what I was doing.” I leaned against the seat and wrapped my hands around the barely warm mug as I watched for her reaction.

  Lottie sat curled up, her legs crossed under her, and her hair was twisted into a loose bun on her head, the circles under her eyes aging her in a sad sublime kind of way. Her finger tapped the mug as steam rose from the black coffee inside. When she stopped, she looked at me with wide eyes and nodded.

  “Okay,” she said.

  “O-Okay?” I repeated dumbly, leaning forward on the table.

  “Okay. I believe you.”

  “You do?” It seemed too easy.

  “Yes, why wouldn’t I?” She brought the mug to her lips and sipped it slowly while steam wrapped around her freckled nose.

  “Um...I-I don’t know. Maybe because it sounds completely insane...unreasonable.”

  Shaking her head, she giggled. “I have no reason not to trust you. I can sense you are an honest person and I know you well enough by now to know you wouldn’t lie to me.” She blew out a gust of air. “It may seem far-fetched, yes; and quite strange I’ll give you that, but I had an ability too, so why wouldn’t I believe you? I knew I couldn’t be the only one out there.” Lottie wrapped her warm fingers around mine, pulling them toward her. “We will figure this out. Together.”

  I nodded at her as my father's old cell phone rang.

  “Hello,” I answered, holding the thick phone up to my ear. It smelled of cigars and was covered in grime from being carried in my father’s back pocket for so long. After a short conversation, I hung up and let myself sag back into my seat.