The Circus Part 4
THUNK
THUNK
The small knife hit the wood next to my ear, vibrating slightly from the force of the impact. All around me the tent was silent, all eyes wide and watching with attention. Catherine pulled her hand back and released another knife, letting it fly. A glint of metal and there was a small sound of something cracking. The knife hit my half mask just near the edge, causing the cool porcelain to crack and shatter across my face. The crowd gasped as the glinting shards of porcelain rained to the floor and the dagger hit the wood next to my ear with a loud thunk. I concentrated my eyes forward, watching Catherine's hand falter as it held her final dagger.
Catherine's eyes were wide with shock recovered and gave a bow to the crowd, despite the fact that she still held her final dagger. I knew she wouldn't throw it now, not after she'd accidentally cut it that close. Whenever she messed up on her throws her hands trembled for every throw after that, thus she wouldn't throw her last dagger. The show was over, so she gave a bow and stepped forward to where I was tied up.
Her soft slippers crackled against the shards of porcelain as she leaned forward and used the remaining dagger to cut through the leather bonds holding me to the large wooden board. Once my hands and legs were free I stepped down next to her and gave a low bow, ignoring the small amount of warmth sliding down my cheek. I didn't have to check to know that she'd cut me with that dagger, but judging from the slow blood flow it was a very small cut and would heal over in no time. Nothing to be worried about.
Around us the crowd cheered, standing and clapping their hearts out. We clasped hands and both bowed at the same time then the lights around us extinguished, leaving only the manager in the spotlight as he announced the next act. Catherine quickly retrieved her daggers as the staff pulled away the wooden board, then raced after me."Trowa?"
I turned and glanced back at her as I knelt near the water bucket reserved for after shows.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to- you're bleeding!"
She raced forward and undid the golden sash from around her waist, reaching up to wipe it across my face. Quickly I caught her hand as a single drop of blood slipped from my face and plinked into the bucket of water.
"You'll stain it," I said simply.
"But-"
I shook my head. "I'll take care of it." Letting go of her hand I turned back to the bucket of water and used my hands, cupped, to bring the water to my face. Still, rather than washing out the cut I used the water to wash away what blood had flowed down my face then stood back up and wiped my face and hands on the old stained towel hanging next to the bucket. I'd clean out the cut later; it wasn't nearly deep enough to worry about at the moment.
Turning away from her I headed back toward our trailer, intent on spending the last few hours of the night by myself far away from the loud cheering crowds of unfamiliar faces. It wasn't that I was anti-social, but more that I didn't like people. When you are around others you always have to worry about how they perceive you and how you appear to them. Usually it doesn't bug me that much, but for some reason that night I wasn't in the mood. All I wanted to do was sit in the empty trailer with the lights out and let my thoughts take over. I needed some time to myself.
Catherine must have understood because she didn't follow me, and I was left to wander alone in the darkness toward our trailer. As I passed the manager's trailer I couldn't help but stop. It occurred to me that I hadn't seen the boy, Quatre, for at least a week. That in itself was strange, since he was almost always sneaking around the tents. On a second thought I turned my steps toward the manager's trailer, my cut and wish to be alone completely forgotten.
I found the trailer completely dark, despite the sounds from inside. No lights whatsoever, and yet I could still hear someone moving around inside. There were the soft sounds of something metallic jingling and beyond that… someone was sobbing.
I walked up to the trailer door and was surprised to find it unlocked. Carefully I turned the knob and opened the door, stepping inside.
In the darkness I found the manager's trailer was practically the same layout as Catherine's. Shaped in a long rectangle a couch lined one side while various shelves and a table lined the other. The main significant difference was in the back, where Catherine had a light pink curtain covering the back sleeping compartment this trailer had a curtain of small chains. Stepping forward I found them slightly swaying and jingling, glinting in the moonlight which filtered in through the shades. Quatre was no where in sight so I approached the back compartment, assuming that's where he would be.
Stepping forward I parted the chains and stepped into the back compartment. Strangely enough it was like stepping into another world. Rather than the sparse decorating of the rest of the trailer this area had walls covered with richly embroidered silk while the floor was covered with a thick layer of matching pillows. Nothing else filled the room save for a small shivering and sobbing form in the corner. Kneeling down it took me a moment to realize it was Quatre.
The boy I was used to seeing almost always had a happy yet solemn mood about him. On the outside his face usually shone with bright smiles while there was something hidden deep within the depths of his eyes. In contrast the figure I found in the corner now was curled into a small ball and sobbing quietly. He wore nothing save for a loose set of pants and a small necklace around his neck. What disturbed me the most though was the fact that where that necklace touched his skin there was a dark red line, almost as if he'd been burned.
I frowned and moved in next to him, watching him silently and trying to figure out what to do. After a moment of thought I moved in closer and wrapped my arms around his trembling body lightly, pulling him into my arms. He resisted at first, trying to pull away with what seemed like fear. But after a moment he wiped away his tears long enough to notice who it was that was trying to comfort him.
"Trowa?" his voice shook from the sobbing and tears and I gave a small worried smile.
"Shh."
I pulled him closer and this time he didn't object. Instead he crawled into my arms and placed his head against my chest, wrapping his arms around my waist. Burying his face in my chest he let the tears fall again. I simply sat there and held him tightly, running my fingers through his soft golden curls as the sobs shook his body. Moments later he began to calm down and the tears and sobbing faded to small hick-ups.
Wiping his eyes he sighed softly and snuggled closer to my chest, seeming to find comfort in my holding him and stroking his hair. I didn't change my actions, and simply let him sit there and hold on to me. I wanted to know why he'd been crying but it wasn't the time to ask. At the moment he needed comfort and my holding him seemed to supply that, so I was happy to continue holding him.
I couldn't help but marvel at the silky softness of his skin as he curled in my arms. Despite the amazing comfort of the silk pillows beneath me his skin was the softest. It almost seemed inhuman and even in the scattered moonlight in this room he continued to glow, though not as much now. The red line under the necklace that marred his perfect milky skin still bothered me, I didn't understand it.
After what seemed like a small eternity he took a deep breath and pulled out of my arms, watching me with a wary smile. I calmly accepted his need to pull away and didn't prevent it. Instead I just sat quietly as he moved back into his shadowy corner and just watched me with a mixture of worry and gratefulness.
"You shouldn't be here," he whispered softly, wiping the remains of the tears from his face.
"He won't be back, the show isn't over yet."
Quatre shook his head. "If he finds you here now he'll kill you for sure." His body shook with worry and a new tear slid down his cheek.
Without thinking I leaned forward and wiped away the tear gently, glancing in marvel at the wetness on my finger. His tear was warm, amazingly warm and it made my skin tingle slightly. His eyes watched my hand, but he said nothing more.
"Why were you crying?"
He shook his head and rubbed at his reddened eyes. When he offered no explanation I gestured toward the chain around his neck. He immediately looked away from me, as if in shame.
"What did he do to you?" I asked in a soft voice. The red line across his skin really did bother me, especially since I realized what it meant. That red line didn't just appear on his skin, the manager had done it. I didn't know how, and I didn't know why but I didn't like it at all.
"Nothing," he muttered, just below whispering. "It's nothing."
I reached for the chain and he jerked away instantly, causing the necklace to fall back against his skin in a different area from the red. Almost immediately he emitted a low hiss as a fresh red line crossed his skin under the chain. I watched in shock as he reached for the chain, but jerked his own hands away as his fingers also reddened.
"The chain is…"
"Don't touch it!" Quatre pulled farther back into the corner and tried not to move, trying to keep the chain from moving around. "It… it doesn't hurt if I don't move it."
I frowned deeply.
"He… he caught me sneaking out about a week ago. This is my punishment. I'm not supposed to leave the trailer."
"Why not?"
Quatre sighed deeply. "It's dangerous out there. I shouldn't have been sneaking out, it was stupid. He can't protect me if I'm wandering around all those people. It's not… it doesn't hurt that much."
I frowned even more but forced myself not to say anything. What he'd just said, about the manager protecting him, infuriated me. This was protection? To basically lock Quatre in this trailer away from the rest of the world? What in the world was he trying to protect Quatre from that would justify him being treated like this? It didn't take much for me to figure out that Quatre had some kind of allergic reaction to the metal used in the chain around his neck, and I had no doubt that the chains on the door were made of the same metal. Which meant that Quatre had been trapped in this room for a week, simply because he wanted to look around outside and be with other people.
No one had the right to lock someone up like that, not even the manager of a circus. Granted, I didn't know exactly what it was that he was protecting Quatre from but… this wasn't right.
Those thoughts in mind I stood up and pulled back the chains from the door.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting you out of here."
In a flash he was on his feet and pulling me away from the chains on the door. Quickly, after pushing me back, he placed himself between me and the chains. "You can't!"
"This isn't right."
He shook his head and glanced worriedly back toward the closed trailer door. "You can't. I have to stay here; it doesn't hurt that much, honest. But if he finds you you'll be killed. I can't let that happen."
I opened my mouth to respond when suddenly there was a burst of loud orchestra music from outside the trailer. The show was over. That loud burst of notes always signaled the end of the show, which meant that the manager was already on his way back to the trailer. Quatre's eyes widened in fear and he grabbed my hand, pulling me back into the far corner of the compartment. Shoving me backward I dropped into the corner and he tossed a few pillows around me to block the light.
"Please, promise me you won't move until it's safe for you to leave."
"But-"
"Swear it! If he finds you here he'll kill you. Swear to me no matter what you see or hear that you will not move!"
I swallowed and nodded.
"Swear it!"
"I swear."
Curling into the corner I hugged the floor, allowing him to pile pillows on top of me until he was satisfied that I wouldn't be seen. Still, despite the amount of pillows, I had a clear view of the back compartment and as I heard the door to the trailer open I watched Quatre walk up to the curtain of chains. That same hollow smile crossed his face as he looked into the other room, where I presumed the manager now stood.
"Welcome back," Quatre said softly.
The manager grunted and I could hear him moving about the trailer doing a various number of things. After a long moment one of his hands reached out and parted the chains, just enough so he could step in. With his other hand he reached back into the room and extinguished the light he'd turned on. Quatre stepped back to let him into the back compartment and I had to fight to not make a sound as I saw him.
No longer was he wearing the bright red show clothes as he normally did. Instead he was dressed much like Quatre, in a set of loose drawstring pants that must have served as sleeping clothes. The mere sight of him with barely any clothing on and my memory of how his hand had clasped around Quatre's… the thought of what I might become witness to made me sick. Still I forced myself to stay silent and not move, I'd sworn to Quatre I wouldn't and I realized that attempting to stop the manager now would only result in both of us getting hurt. As much as I hated the idea it was wiser for me to stay hidden and return to punish him at a later time when I had the advantage. Though… the reality of the situation certainly didn't make me feel any better.
I watched as the manager stepped into the room and seated himself on the pillow-covered floor with Quatre sitting across from him. His eyes glanced down at the chain around Quatre's neck.
"Does it hurt?" he asked. His voice was actually filled with what seemed like genuine caring for Quatre, and that made me sick to my stomach. Just what game was he playing?
Quatre shook his head and he offered a small wavering smile. "No, not that much."
"Good. But you understand, don't you, why I did this?"
Quatre nodded slowly then tilted his head down as if in apology. "I shouldn't have tried to sneak out, I'm sorry."
The manager smiled and reached forward, unclasping the necklace from Quatre's neck. Carefully he laid the chain outside the curtain and then leaned up against the padded wall and Quatre crawled into his lap like an obedient child. I watched in amazement as Quatre seemed to relax in the man's lap as he stroked Quatre's soft curls, much as I had done.
Apparently my worries about what the manager did to Quatre on a nightly basis were unfounded because the scene before me seemed very much to resemble a father and his young child. Still, something about this entire situation rubbed me the wrong way and I didn't quite believe my eyes. For some reason this all seemed wrong in some way, I just wasn't sure any more what was wrong with it. The problem of how Quatre had reacted to the chains also still bothered me.
In the next few hours I forced myself to stay silent as Quatre curled in the manager's arms, simply sitting there and beaming like a child as the manager slowly stroked his hair. Eventually the manager fell asleep and his arm dropped away and his head rolled to the side, as he emitted soft snores. Quatre opened his eyes and reached up, slowly caressing the side of the man's face. His hand glowed slightly at the movement and the manager began to snore louder and breathe deeper. Quatre quickly stood up and moved over toward where I lay. He pulled away a few of the pillows and smiled at me.
"It's safe now," his voice wasn't lowered at all and my eyes immediately went to the manager but he didn't respond.
I sat up. "Won't he hear?"
Quatre smiled and shook his head. "You're safe. He won't wake up until morning."
"I don't understand. You seemed to be afraid of him before and now…" I let my sentence drop off in wonder, I honestly didn't understand any of this. This boy continued to become more of an enigma as time passed and I saw more of him.
Quatre flashed a very quiet smile and stood up, offering his hand to help me to my feet. "Tomorrow night wait outside behind the lion's tent. I will meet you there as soon as he sleeps. I will explain then."
I nodded. "I'll be there."
Moving past him I stopped at the curtain of chains as his hand rested on my wrist. I glanced back at him.
"Thank you, Trowa. Thank you for trusting me."
I nodded. "Until tomorrow night."
"Night."
I stepped out between the chain curtain and watched quietly as Quatre crawled back into the arms of the manager, then left the trailer.
I arrived back at my own trailer to find Catherine already sleeping soundly in the back. I walked over to the mirror hanging above the hotplate Catherine was always using to make dinner. The cut across my cheek was indeed larger then I had initially thought and dark red blood was crusted around the reddened skin.
Some where between my being cut and my returning to the trailer it had become infected and now stung at my touch. Glancing around in the darkness yielded nothing in sight that would help, and if I wanted water I would have to walk outside to the water pump, not something I particularly wanted to do. So instead I opted to gently wiping it clean with a soft cloth and laying on the couch to get some sleep. I'd clean it in the morning.
Sleepily I stumbled back to the couch and feel asleep almost as soon as my head hit the scratchy cushions. It wasn't long after that I began to dream. And I dreamt about the boy.
In my dreams he was smiling. And in my dreams he came up to me and touched the cut on my cheek. Then gently he leaned forward and kissed me. I felt my skin tingle at the touch from his soft lips and he pulled away smiling.
In the morning, when I woke up, the cut was gone.
TBC…