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Racking my brain during the entire walk from the big top to my tent, I’d kept debating the possibilities of how to administer the contents of the vial when the answer thankfully presented itself. At the left of the entrance to the tent sat a tin pot with the unmistakable scent of campfire coffee. The moment I was safely inside the tent, both stagehands refilled their mugs and sipped their coffee. My gleam of hope evaporated, however, because I was familiar with the rest of their routine. Whenever one of them patrolled the perimeter, the other stood close to the entrance and the coffee pot. I knew I’d be spotted the moment I stuck my head or hand outside the tent. While wishing things were different, and praying for an opportunity, I began to feel sorry for myself.
Loneliness from the persistent isolation crept into my soul like the evening fog. I was grateful just to be around tonight’s crowd despite my duress. It was a welcome change from the weariness and seclusion I’d endured offstage. I would have loved anyone’s company, even Laurent or Rex!
Or both, I idly thought as I shook my head and grew angry with myself. Laurent and Rex were the last people I should have wanted to see and yet… there was no denying the fact that it was exactly their faces my soul was calling out for.Yet both men are keeping their distance.
It was true—I hadn’t seen much of either of them since my return. And I had to wonder if they thought I’d somehow deceived them or betrayed them. I didn’t get that feeling from Laurent, necessarily, but I certainly had noted the deep-seated hurt in Rex’s eyes when he’d come for me. And despite my own better judgment, I still felt something emotional for them, which was as inexplicable as it was deep. Did either of them feel the same? I knew Laurent would glibly dodge that question forever, being so finely polished and adept at playing word games. Rex, on the other hand,mightbe persuaded to answer it with the right incentive and the right words. Deep in their hearts, I sensed both men were just as lonely as I was. And both seemed equally intent on keeping me from harm, even if that meant they could never get close to me. I couldn’t help but wonder how those paradoxes fit together?
With a longing look at my clothes trunk, I wished Amelia were here with me. My persistent guilt worried me and I could only wonder what she’d been turned into now. Whatever her fate, it was my fault. If only I could have come back sooner...
Making me feel even more guilty, I knew Amelia would never be bitter about it. Human or doll, she remained my best friend and continued to want only what was best for me. In fact, none of the friends I’d made at the circus had held grudges towards me for their untimely fates. Nevertheless, they were all victims of a grave injustice, one I was determined to rectify as soon as possible.
An excited series of screeches outside my tent interrupted my thoughts. It took me a moment to realize they weren’t human but coming from a monkey, from Samuel.
“What the...?!” one of the stagehands exclaimed in alarm. He nearly slammed his cup on the stool beside the coffee pot. “What in God’s name d’ya think you’re doin’, boy?!”
A series of loud shrieks came from Madame Jiang’s co-star and then I caught the sound of flapping tent material.
“Ah, hell,” the other stagehand replied. “That damn monkey’s gonna pull down the whole tent if we don’t do something to stop ‘em.”
“They’ll have our heads if we leave our posts to catch that little ape,” the first one protested.
“Tell you what, Hep,” the other stagehand said before running after the mischievous monkey. “I’ll make sure that hairy booger don’t bring the whole tent down. You wanna tell Rex ‘bout it, that’s up to you.”
All the excitement and confusion gave me the courage to risk coming closer to the entrance. I could see the stagehands racing in different directions as Samuel stared incredulously at the tent. He casually swung across the ropes that held it up and pulled the stakes that anchored the ropes looser with each swing. The stagehand’s heavy boots thumped like sledgehammers as he got closer.
He shouted, “Get over here, you!”
Samuel squealed with excitement as his little feet and hands skittered across the ground.
“I said get over here!” the stagehand demanded again, doing his best to keep up with the crafty primate.
I glanced to the left of the entrance. The coffee pot was so close, I barely had to stick my hand out to pour the contents of the vial in it. But the other stagehand was nearby, turning his head around frantically to search for Laurent or Rex, no doubt fearing reprimand at any moment. When he turned back toward me, I quickly disappeared inside the tent’s shadows and waited patiently for the chance I needed.
Samuel’s squeals grew louder and his footsteps sounded closer. A string of obscenities flowed from his pursuer’s mouth as the man huffed and puffed like a steam engine behind my furry comrade.
“Huh?!” Hep exclaimed as Samuel gave a loud shriek before covering the guard’s head with his arms, legs and tail. The stagehand bumbled around blindly, trying unsuccessfully to get Samuel off. The other stagehand tried to help and Samuel squealed loudly as he leapt off the guard’s head. Both men were visibly frightened and alarmed as they cursed loudly and clumsily tried to catch the little monkey.
My opportunity had finally arrived. I quickly popped off the cork of the vial and cautiously looked out the tent entrance. Neither man was a threat as long as Samuel kept distracting them. In one fluid motion, I emerged from my tent, dumped the entire contents of the vial into the coffee pot and then concealed the empty vial in my palm.
I was almost back inside when one of the stagehands caught a glimpse of me. “Hey, you get back in the tent!”
Discreetly crossing my arms over my chest as if I were cold, I said, “I stepped out to see what was making all that noise.” As soon as I spoke, Samuel ran straight to me. I barely had enough time to kneel down before my monkey friend leapt onto my shoulders and made cooing noises while hugging my neck.
I did my best to retain the vial in my palm while soothing the clearly upset monkey. “It’s all right, Samuel, everything’s all right now.” Samuel just kept making little cooing noises as he watched the stagehands. When they walked closer, he drew back in fear, deftly retrieving the vial from my palm in the same motion.
“I thought this furball was Jiang’s pet,” Hep sneered.
“Well, he’s alsomyfriend,” I replied with audible indignity. Then, I looked at Samuel and said in a maternal tone, “Now, Samuel, what’s gotten into you, little soldier?”
The sounds Samuel made were more than appropriate for an apology and I told him it wasn’t his fault. “But you know better,” I admonished him, with a gentle caress.
Samuel’s noises sounded sad as he nodded.
“Now when you go back to your tent, will you think about what you did?” I asked, putting him back on the ground. He gave me a little bow of his head before scampering off toward the other tents in the camp. The patter of his little hands and feet faded quickly and the comfort they evoked instantly returned into gloom.
The unnamed stagehand who chased Samuel put his hands on his hips and gave me a suspicious glare. “You know, if I didn’t know better,” he said, “I’d wonder if you set all o’ this up.”
I frowned at him. “And how could I have accomplished that?” I asked, spreading my arms wide for emphasis. “I’ve been nowhere but the big top and in this damned tent.” A bit of aggression was more than warranted, so I added some venom to my voice as I added, “You’ve made damn sure no visitors came by.”
