my braaaaaain hurts.

[opheliassister]

Senga really looked like crying right now. Ricky got up from the floor, shaking like a leaf. When he was steady on his feet, with the help of me and Tucker, he went over to Senga and the baby, and placed a hand on each of them. He did this usually to learn their story, and he explained this to them, speaking in his most comforting tone. He didn’t want to alarm them.
All at once, he gasped as if he’d been seen a jumpy part in a scary movie. His hands had only been on them a moment. Then he drew a finger along the side of the baby girl’s face. “You are surrounded by shadows, little one.” He murmured, lifting his head to face Senga. “Miss Senga, we will keep you and yours safe for as long as you stay here. But the shadows surrounding you are still there. Take heed and be alert.” He slowly backed up, and scooted out of the tent. I followed close behind him, but stayed close to the tent flap. I heard Tucker sit on the edge of the bed, I heard Miss Senga start to sob softly. Tucker was speaking softly, so soft I couldn’t hear him. But it seemed that whatever he was saying was calming her down.
Before I left to get to work for the day, I thought I heard her say, “He won’t find us here, as long as no one dies.”
I spent most of the day thinking about what I had heard in the tent. And it disturbed me quite a bit. What did death have to do with it? And who was the man she was talking about? It distracted me so much, I dropped several caramel apples in the dirt and that made the children cry. Uncle Seamus even came over to me to see what was wrong. I couldn’t tell him why; he was our protector, and he’d go to any length to protect us. We were a family, even those who weren’t related to us. Like Louise and Emerson. They came to us, seeking asylum. And Ricky was found when he was a small boy, before I was born. Uncle Seamus never told me any of their stories, always saying he would when I was older, that I would have to be a man before I knew their past. I certainly felt like a man; I was thirteen years old, old enough to kiss a girl, old enough to get in trouble with the lawmen who frequented our carnival. Certainly I was old enough to know about those I grew up with.
So I kept the secret to myself. It was my secret, and I wasn’t going to tell anyone, not even Ricky. Everyone here had a secret, so why couldn’t I?
I didn’t see the newcomers at all during the day. I figured Miss Senga was still recovering from pushing the baby out of her body. How that worked, I had no idea. But to be honest, I really had no interest in knowing. I liked it being a mystery. Like I said, everyone has secrets. So I let birth be the women’s’ secret.
They did come to dinner though. Senga was walking, albeit a little on the slow and hobbling side. Tucker holding her elbow with one arm, and little Indy with the other. They really did look like such the picture. It reminded me of a painting I had seen in a city once. They sat down at the picnic tables next to me; the baby hadn’t opened her eyes yet, but the bright pink skin tone had faded to a more normal color. It was about time too.
Dinner was turkey and green beans and mashed potatoes. And absolutely delicious. I had seen Jamie and Emerson playing with a deep fryer before hand. Now they had shoveled their food into their mouths after grace, and were trying to deep fry everything they could get their hands on. Tucker had even joined in, leaving me alone with Miss Senga and Indy. They both looked like angels. But for the time being, I kept my head down and ate my dinner. Senga was trying to balance the baby and eating dinner, with much difficulty it seemed. I smiled at her, and held my arms out for her to hand me the child. She looked at me suspiciously, but handed Indy to me. I had never held a baby before, and maybe it showed. But I was very careful, and Senga was grateful.
Tucker came back with a plate of deep fried green beans, and deep fried mashed potatoes. We all laughed, when he grinned and left us the plate, going back when the boys said they were going to try cotton candy and caramel apples. Indy started fussing in my arms, making little squeaking noises and trying to lift her arms. Then she opened her mouth and let out a wail. It was hard not to go with instinct and cover my ears with my hands. Senga smiled softly, and took the baby back, humming her back to calm. This time though, nothing happened, and I was almost sad about it. I had seen Ricky’s head pop up when he heard the humming, expecting the worst. We both sighed with relief.
The boys were still playing with the deep fryer, laughing when they heard the satisfying BOOM of an ice cube exploding in the vat of hot oil. Jamie had the idea of throwing in a whole bag of ice. And I worried. His words were slurred, and I wondered what he had to drink. Senga looked at me, curiously when I craned my neck to see the boys goofing off.
You could have heard the explosion in the next town over. Hot oil went everywhere, splashing over those who were unlucky enough to be in its path. Tucker and Emerson were enough out of the way, but Jamie… Jamie got the most of it. I heard a shriek of the most terrible pain, and I saw Aunt Ellie mosving as fast as her sixty year old rheumatic body would move to him. Tucker and Emerson were helping her carry him to the healer’s tent, Tucker picking up my brother’s massive body as if he were no lighter than his newborn daughter. Dinner was over.
I didn’t see how bad the oil had burned my brother until later that night. Uncle Seamus had insisted I stay outside the tent, to watch over the entrance. I gave Miss Senga and Tucker and the baby my wagon to sleep in while Jamie was in the healer’s tent. I had grabbed a spare blanket and pillow in case it got cold, but during the summer, New England nights stayed warm. I heard the rustle of the tent flap when Aunt Ellie came out.
“The healer says he should pull through as long as the burns don’t get infected, and if he rests while the skin grows back. And that he’s a damn fool for trying to deep fry a bag of ice. Jasper, if you ever try that, I swear on your mother’s grave, I will beat your voice back into your throat.” She glared at me. Her eyes had a cast of anguish, and sadness I hadn’t seen since my mother’s funeral.
Ricky came up to me, and put an arm around my shoulder. I didn’t feel like talking, but Ricky knew my thoughts. “I don’t see good things.” He whispered. I just sighed, and shrugged him off, heading into the carnival, to clear my cloudy head.
The lights were still on, and it was so beautiful outside. I passed the freak show tent, where Louisa was dancing around on the stage as the World’s Smallest Woman. Next on the Ticket was the Betsy the Contortionist, who mostly stayed to herself. She was a pretty brunette who had limbs like rubber, and liked to tease us by stealing things from our tables from across the fairway. Jamie had a crush on her.
I passed the animals’ pen. Markus was in charge of all of them, the lions, the elephants, the bears, every animal, down to the smallest baby chick was under his expert care. He had such a way with them. I think it was because he could speak to them. He knew everyone of their languages. The glowing sign above the animals’ area advertised “DOCTOR DOLITTLE LIVES”. He was impressive, making the lions purr like kittens, and making the chickens fly about the pen. No one had been able to prove he was a fraud. And next to the rides, and the freak show, it was the most popular attraction in our carnival.
I bumped into Quinn and Flynn, the Irish conjoined twins, while they were on their way to the freak show. They were so fun-loving, and they drank a lot. In fact, I think that’s where Jamie got most of the alcohol he would drink when Aunt Ellie and Uncle Seamus weren’t looking. They didn’t approve of alcohol. I didn’t like the way it smelled. It brought the monsters back. I had to hold my breath as the twins walked by, for fear they’d attack me when my guard was so thinly draped. Tonight was not a good night to fight them off.
Louise came fluttering behind me, her sweet gossamer wings beating twice as fast as my heart. “Is Jamie okay, boyo?” She asked, the worry in her voice thinly disguised with a whisper. I shook my head slowly. The little pixie kissed my forehead; she smelled like vanilla and grass. It made me feel a little better. Pixies don’t kiss just anyone, this one especially. Her pink hair shimmered with the neon lights behind us.
“Come on, wee Jasper. Your uncle will be looking for you now. I’ll play you some songs to clear that noisy head of yours.”
Back at the camp, Louise held true to her promise, and pulled her lovely violin out of its neon pink case. *I had settled my back against a sturdy tent pole, wrapped in my blanket. The little pixie started playing a slow, mournful tune, and like music usually did, it relaxed my brain enough to let me think. I had come close to losing my brother tonight. Not that I paid much attention to him in the first place. He was older than me by enough years where we were practically strangers. I don’t even recall him living with me and my mother. Then, when the monsters took her, I was sent to live with my aunt and uncle and their carnival. A sudden thought shot through my mind like a shiney, sleek silver bullet: Death. He won’t find us, just as long as no one dies. Senga’s words were animated in front of my eyes, and made my gut grow ice cold. If Jamie died, then whatever was hunting Senga and Tucker would find them. I made a mental note to read about death.
A song Louise was plucking out on her violin caught my attention. It had words to it. And they were lovelier than the music itself. Senga was singing along. Ricky had braced himself for the spell to take over, but… it didn’t. But the song was familiar, reminded me of one my mother used to sing. Or maybe it wasn’t. Musical memories were a bit hazy.
“Rose, Rose, Rose Red, will I ever see thee wed? I will marry at thy will sir, at thy will…” Miss Senga’s voice rose above our small camp, and I could feel the tendrils of notes reaching out over the woods, out over our tents and beds, out over the sleepy New England towns surrounding us. I closed my eyes, and let the song wrap me up. It felt just as warm as the blanket over my lap. I dreamed that maybe, just maybe, the music would be so powerful as to heal my brother, leave him without scars.
Louise had stopped playing. But Senga was still singing. The music seemed to radiate from her, coming out from the folds of her clothes, out of each miniscule freckle, and every curve of her body. A wind was blowing through the camp, sending the cloud of curls that was Senga’s hair into a tizzy, and you could imagine the wings of an angel trailing in the breeze behind her. Ricky, however, looked pale, and was clutching the thin cane he used to make sure he didn’t bump into anyone. I thought it quite odd, that he looked almost scared. How could anyone be so frightened of her? I settled back and made myself comfortable, falling asleep to Louise picking up her violin, and shouting a song for Senga to sing.
The next morning was an uncomfortable one. My back was sore, and my neck felt crooked from sitting up straight while I slept. Aunt Ellie was going back and forth from the camp stove to the tent, with rags and hot water to wash Jamie’s wounds. It was an odd feeling, not to see my brother stirring in his sleep, that dark, dirty mess of hair sticking out wildly at all angles. My aunt gave me a small smile, and ducked into the tent. It didn’t make me feel any better. But there was the smell of coffee. And it held on tight to my nose, and pulled me from my seat, to the pot. I looked around slowly, and reached for a mug, and the coffee pot. I was going to get away with this for sure.
“Jas!”
I jumped, and dropped the coffee pot on the ground, watching it smash into millions of slivers, watching the coffee absorb into the dirt. I turned to face Miss Senga with the baby in the crook of her arm. I frowned at her, feeling guilty and mournful that I had broken the coffee pot when I wasn’t even supposed to be touching it. I would be in the doghouse for sure. I could sense the extra chores being added to my roster as the seconds ticked by.
“Oh, Jasper, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” She said, her voice clouding my mind again. I welcomed those clouds. They were like seeing the white puffy ones on a day when they sky was so blue, it seemed purple. You could lay on the ground and watch them sail by, and pick out the familiar shapes they took until sunset.
Shrugging, I just crouched to the ground to start picking up the pieces of the defunct coffee pot. Out of a side tent, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Uncle Seamus walking over.
“Jas, I’ll get it. You go check the roster list.” I hung my head, and stood up, watching the little pieces of glass flicker in the sun just out of reach. * I heard Senga gasp, surprised. Uncle Seamus laughed a sound I hadn’t heard in many months. It was rich, and moist, and surrounded me as if I was swimming in chocolate. I turned my back and, shaking my head, went to check my chores for the day.
I had been assigned to help Markus muck out the horses’ and the elephants’ pens. Assuming that was my punishment for breaking the rules, and the coffee pot, I felt awful. Markus was a thin, middle aged man, and he always wore a purple striped top hat. He reminded me of the Mad Hatter from Alice in Wonderland. As I went to the shed to pick out a shovel, I could hear him, chattering happily to the monkeys, and they chattered back. I wish I could understand them, even though I wasn’t able to speak them. I heard a bird whistling, by my ear, and Markus turned in my direction.
“Ah! Jasper! It’s good to see you; your uncle told me you were coming to help me today. Quite the last minute decision, isn’t it?” He laughed, the sound as thin and distinctive as he was. I couldn’t help but smile. “My dear friend, you can start by making sure the puppies and kittens are fed, and make sure they’re played with. I don’t want them feeling lonely.” Markus made no mention of the elephants and horses. I just nodded and went down the long line of tents and stalls until I made it to the pens where the orphaned baby animals were kept. He had everything from puppies and kittens, to an orphaned dragon, who, contrary to popular belief, was rather sweet natured, albeit a little bitey.
The day, I felt, was well spent in suffering for my sins, full of fur and kisses. I even had a small burn on my hand where the dragonette had practiced her fire breathing. I almost hoped Markus would have let me have her, but he firmly believed that she was a treasure, that all animals were a gift for the people, and they were to be enjoyed as such. He also maintained that every single one of them was there on their own free will. He spoke to them, and that’s what he said they said. I couldn’t argue; they seemed happy enough to me.
That night over dinner, Uncle Seamus made the announcement that there would be no more coffee until further notice. I hid my face in shame, and hoped no one knew the reason. Senga kept the secret to herself, and I was glad. She had a secret of mine, and I had one of hers. We were even for now.
Aunt Ellie was being a little too loving to me as well. She even gave me an extra helping of chocolate cake with extra whipped cream. I didn’t ask why; I had had a long day with the animals. After dinner, I went to visit my brother. The previous night, I hadn’t even bothered to look upon his burned body. I was in for a shock.
As soon as I entered the tent, I could smell the sickly sweet scent of infection, mingling with the stench of burned skin and hair. Overlaying that was the faint smell of liniment and incense, all menthol and lavender, and pixie dust. Jamie’s eyes were closed, and I was glad for it. I had overheard Aunt Ellie telling the healer that he may not be able to see again. And for that I felt bad. Jamie not being able to look at pretty girls would almost be the end of the world for him.
I approached the side of the bed slowly, my feet dragging in the dirt.
“Jamie…?” I whispered, hoping his mind would hear me.
He groaned in response, and made an attempt to roll over, but Aunt Ellie stopped him.
“I see we’re going to have to tie the lad down. He’s been trying to move all day. Jas, step over there, I need to change his bandages. And I need you to wash your hands and hand the fabric to me.” I just nodded and rinsed my hands with antiseptic the healer kept on hand. We couldn’t have Jamie’s burns infected, even though you could smell the infection and the pus from outside the tent. Aunt Ellie handed me the roll of bandages, and would ask me to cut a strip off every so often. I coughed, with the dust and the dander left over from the animals’ area still stuck in my throat. When I glanced down at the bandages, I could see the droplets of spit and phlegm absorbing into the gauze. But we kept going.
I didn’t know why I didn’t cover my mouth then, but I do now, now that I’m older. I wanted to see Death.
Jamie’s wounds weren’t healing. Two weeks had gone by, two more towns played host to our merry little band of freaks and carnies, and he was no better. Aunt Ellie said the healer told her to expect the worst. By now, I had found little clever ways to infect the bandages. Not washing my hands was the easiest. I could fool Aunt Ellie by just running the water and pouring soap under the rushing hot water to make suds. And I also took to taking care of the animals more often. Markus was beaming about how helpful I was, and was proud that he thought I had found my calling. I was okay with the animals. They didn’t expect me to speak, and I didn’t expect them to speak to me. We had a quiet peace in the tents.
Days went by, and I saw my brother wither before my eyes. His breath became labored, and I saw angry, red lines growing out from his weeping burns, like rays of the sun. I’d sit with him at night, and listen and wait.
Senga avoided the healer’s tent. She’d walk by, smell the stench coming from the tent, and shiver. The baby, however, would gurgle happily, even if she had been crying just moments before. Indy was an odd little child. She was growing every day though, getting bigger by the second. I wondered what Ricky had seen in the baby’s future. I had put the pieces together, though. I wasn’t dumb. Her future involved Death. Not just the regular death that awaited all of us, but Death himself.
I used to sit outside the tent and breathe in the fresh air that my brother couldn’t. I’d watch the world walking by, and many would give me their well wishes and good health to give to Jamie. I never passed them on though. He didn’t need them; he was knocking on the very door of Death with every labored breath he took. I also didn’t care.
It was a rainy night, when Jamie finally died. The red lines radiating from the pus filled pockets of his gangrenous wounds covered most of his body. He’d been hanging on for too long. I heard Aunt Ellie crying from the healer’s tent, and then heard her calling for me. I was curled up with a copy of the Odyssey, wrapped up in a blanket I was thinking of shedding in favor of my sweatshirt. I looked up from the book, I had been lost in the land of the Lotus Eaters, a race of people who were blissfully happy, but had no concept of time. I looked up just in time to see Miss Senga racing for my wagon. Indy wasn’t in her arms like she usually was. I saw her slip in through the door, and heard her calling for Tucker to pack, and do it quickly, that He would be here soon, and He would not be happy to see them here. Whoever the He was, he didn’t sound very nice. It took a minute, but it dawned on me that the He they were referring to, was indeed Death himself.
Aunt Ellie called for me again, and I finally marked my place in the book, and headed for the healer’s tent. I scratched on the tent flap, and she let me in, her eyes red and puffy from too many tears. I didn’t believe in tears. It was just salty water, and they only gave me a headache. My sobs didn’t make any noise, so what was the point of showing grief like that?
She led me to Jamie’s bedside, his eyes still closed. The corners of his lids had fused shut. He never opened his eyes after the accident. Aunt Ellie was placing a large gold coin over each of his eyes, whispering something in his ear, reminding him to give those to the ferryman. Under his tongue, she placed another coin. This one being small and silver. She said that one was to find our mother. I guess it was a message.
Uncles Seamus burst into the room, his face also red from tears. You could still see the tracks of the water as they had made their way down his cheeks. He knelt at the edge of the bed, and started saying his prayers. He pulled on my shirt, and made me kneel as well. I rolled my eyes, and bowed my head, but thought no prayers. I was waiting for the mysterious Him to show up and take my brother away. When Uncle Seamus was finished, he left the tent, and returned with a burial shroud. I peeked out of the tent, and saw the whole of our group waiting there. Many of the women were crying. Even Little Louise was there, her usually happy, bright pink hair seeming dull and bland.
Aunt Ellie, and Uncle Seamus made me help them wrap Jamie in the plain white shroud. We had to wash him first, and that was disgusting work. Many of the pus pockets burst under the sponge, and Uncle Seamus made me clean them out. I gagged several times, dinner threatening to reappear.
Jamie’s body was cleaned thoroughly, and he was wrapped up neat and tight in his shroud. Uncle Seamus picked up the body to ready him for the wake, where we would sit with the body for three days. It was going to be a smelly three days. We had no preservative to speak of, just the liniments and herbs the healer had in her tent in case of emergencies. When we left the tent, the crying got louder. I saw Senga and Tucker on the edge of the crowd, just lingering. Miss Senga looked pale, plaer than the night Indy was born, and more scared than I had ever seen her. I didn’t like her looking like that. She looked like a small child who’d been beaten one too many times.
I followed my uncle to his tent where we would be holding the wake. Aunt Ellie was off to town in our beat up, broken down pick up truck. She had to buy a burial plot. It was a strange feeling, never seeing my brother again, never going to be able to see his grave for a long time. I hadn’t been to my mother’s grave since the funeral, and it was going to be the same with my brother. All I wanted to do was get out of here, and listen to Senga’s singing, and Louise’s violin.
But there was no singing tonight. Or the next night. Uncle Seamus had placed a plate of bread and salt on Jamie’s chest, saying it was for the sin eater. Jamie hadn’t had his last rites, so this was the next best thing apparently. I didn’t believe in all that.
Everyone came to see my brother all laid out like that, filing by his body one by one, many kneeling and offering up prayers to their gods and goddesses. The Irish Twins even laid a couple bottles of his favorite cinnamon whiskey at my brother’s feet, saying it was for the long journey ahead of him. That made me smile a good deal. I knew my brother would like that.
Senga and Tucker, and the baby even came to offer their condolences. Senga whispered something in Jamie’s ear, I couldn’t hear it very well, but I thought she said something about not swimming in the River Styx, it was polluted. Tucker had heard her, and he laughed a little bit. Had they seen the actual River Styx? I was curious.
The last man to come and offer his prayers was a young man I had never seen before. He was tall, and handsome, and was dressed in what I could only assume were the nicest clothes I had ever seen someone wear to a carnival. They were all black, as black as his eyes. He didn’t kneel by Jamie’s body, but placed his hand on my brother’s chest, and said words in a language I didn’t understand. I saw Senga’s head pop into the tent, and saw her face grow paler than before. The man turned around and smiled at her, using his free hand to wave a little.
“Hades.” She whispered. She darted away, like a rabbit away from a trap. I looked at the man in awe. Hades himself, Death, was here in our midst, and no one else knew. He looked down at me with smirk.
“Your brother will be safe with me, my domain is not so bad.” He winked and left the tent, going in the direction Senga had disappeared in. All of a sudden, my stomach felt like it was full of ice, and I felt very, very cold, like the life had just bled from my veins. I got up and ran for the wagon, and saw Hades disappear through the door. I heard an angry shouting noise, and something being thrown. Had they made it? Did they escape him? I had hoped so. The wagon was filled with a black glow and then it went completely dark. I opened the door, and saw that no one was left. Senga, Tucker, and the baby had gone. There was a small scribbled note tucked in the mirror’s frame.