Darkness in the Tents

Chapter 1

"You said you went to the circus whenyou were sixteen. Is that correct Miss Darnbell?"

"Yes that is correct." The agedwoman nodded solemnly, clearly in discomfort over the topic beingdiscussed, but too strong and stubborn to back down from the oncomingquestions.

"Would you mind describing yourexperiences there? And your experiences before and after?" Thesignificantly younger girl's mousy brown hair fell in front of herface. Only a third of it remained in the messy, relaxed pony tailheld together by a fraying hair tie. Her hands were poised, ready tojot down notes. The lined paper beneath her palm crinkled as sheflipped to a fresh page. She placed the metallic graphite on theyears old journal, ready for action. Ready to take down a story everyother person was too scared to even think of.

Miss Darnbell inhaled in a sharp sigh.Her exhale was deliberately slow, stalling for time she did not have.She could only hope to procrastinate that particular question. Thewoman felt her wrinkled hands clasp around each other in silentprayer. She thought of the horrors of that day so many years ago.Miss Darnbell remembered everything as clear as crystal watersdespite eons of suppressing the vivid memories. She fought so hardwith her mind to release herself of the anguish of knowledge. MissDarnbell always knew her extreme efforts would not work. She alwaysknew she'd end up in a spot like this. No one left the circusuntainted. Everyone got a little stained.

"No, I would not mind." MissDarnbell responded faintly in a feeble, vacant voice. Her pale eyesglistened over like frost on a window on a cold winter's day. Therewas something unforgivable about the way she answered. It was as ifMiss Darnbell was responding to her interrogator instead of a teenagegirl.

The girl looked up from her thickrimmed glasses expectantly, but not without compassion. Her browneyes danced with the thirst of curiosity. This circus was shrouded inmystery and here she was with an ax, about to break the ice.

Miss Darnbell heaved yet another sigh,this one much shorter and defeated before beginning with her story.

"Well, to understand my story youmust understand my good friend, Lena." She began. "She was a wildone. Her hair was teased higher than the Empire State Building. Shewore tight clothes that accentuated certain, ah.... attributes. Hertops always cut a little too low and her bras pushed up a little toomuch." Miss Darnbell smiley fondly at the memory before nostalgiamade her mouth fall into a small frown. She missed Lena.

"Anyways, you need to understandthat where we lived, Lena and I, it was a conservative town. Girlswere treated unfairly for expressing themselves the way Lena did. Ialways admired that in her. She was so brave and bold. She wore whatshe liked and she wore it with confidence. I always wished to be alittle like her, but instead I stuck to sweaters and jeans, skirtsand blouses. The respectable choices, naturally." Miss Darnbell'sbrow furrowed in frustration as if she was upset with her ownactions.

The girl jotted down notes, her handflying and whipping across the page faster than a bullet fresh out ofa gun.

"I remember the day we went to thecircus better than any other day in my life. I remember it betterthan even Lena's death. Yes, she's dead now. She has been for quitesome time, cancer the doctors said. But I don't believe that rubbish.Lena wasn't the type to be taken by illness, she went on her ownaccord. She knew it was her time and she accepted that. She had adaughter, Miranda, if I am correct. I don't know where Miranda is,but last I heard she was with a no good, son of a bitch boyfriendthat does pot more than he does her." Miss Darnbell said, gettinglost in her own world. The white, sterile walls of the room suddenlyseemed encasing like a wire rimmed cage with no way out. Still, MissDarnbell continued with a fresh tenacity.

"It was a Monday night when Lenacame through my bedroom and announced we were going to the circus. Myparents had always warned me about it. But Lena seemed so sure ingoing that I couldn't argue. I wish now that I did." She closed hereyes in remorse, steadying herself for the rest of the story. "Wewent the second year the circus came into town and even by then itwas a source of fear and shame. No parents even allowed theirchildren to think about the existence of that retched place." Shespat out the words wit a surprising ferocity.

"But no one could deny it. Even inthe first years the tents were ragged and worn as if they werecenturies old. When it came into town the air got a little cooler, alittle stiffer. The wind blew a little less and howled a little more.It felt like everything else was just background noise and the circuswas a throbbing heart impossible to ignore.

"But none of that is important, isit? You want to know what happened at the circus and I'll tell you.Almost every person in the audience was between the ages of fifteenand nineteen, no one there was younger, but there were a few in theirmid-twenties.

"Lena and I sat in a front row seat,the wood of the benches was greatly eaten through and terribly damp.Pure disgust crossed my face as my pink skirt touched that seat. Lenasat on it as if it were a throne. Next to us was a boy from my class,Patrick. A lovely boy with orange-blond hair and a constellation offreckles across his face. He gave me a severely nervous smile once Isat down. It didn't help to ease the nerves. The entire atmosphere ofhe place had held quite a gruesome quality.

"The circus started with great,roaring fires. I remember feeling the heat sear into my skin likeHell fire. It was quite the shock factor, if I do say so. The heat ofit lingered on my skin for ages after that as if it wanted to ravageevery inch of me away. The fire had a persona of it's own and I stillcan feel it to this day." A shudder ran through the woman's fragilebody.

"I'm sorry, I can't talk about thisanymore." Her voice grew stern and cruel, unwavering in it'sstatement.

The girl looked up from her journal,mouth gaping like a fish.

"But..." She said dumbly. MissDarnbell had just begun to tell the details of the fascinating story.

"No, I refuse." Miss Darnbellturned her head in defiance.

The girl swallowed a gulp andcontinued, "Miss Darnbell, can you please tell me about some of theacts? I won't bother you after that, I promise." She crossed herfingers in foolish hope.

Miss Darnbell turned to lock eyes withthe girl. Intensity waved off both of them.

"I am willing to share with you oneact, but that is all." The woman's voice clipped each word to bringacross the pint that she was highly unhappy continuing theconversation.

The girl could hardly contain herchildish grin of delight and nodded for Miss Darnbell to continue.

"There was a contortionist. Shetwisted and bent her body in grotesque ways that shouldn't have beenhumanly possible. They called her The Snake and she lived up to thename. A white body suit clung to her body like her skin itself.Silver patterns of flowers and vines decorated her all over. She wasan ironic spot of purity in the sinful tent. Or that's at least howshe was initially presented.

"I remember how her blond curlsrippled down her back and the gold of them shone even in the dim,eerie lighting. Her smile was the stars of heaven come down to earthand her gray eyes were so wide. She was beautiful. And she wasn'talone in her acts." Miss Darnbell stopped abruptly as if she couldnot speak any further. Her lower jaw clamp tightly shut and her lipspressed sharply together in a thin white line.

"Miss Darnbell?" The girl askedtentatively.

 "No, that's all I'm saying. I'msorry I shouldn't have chosen to speak about her. I... I knew itwould lead to him. " Miss Darnbell shook her graying hairand the girl could tell this interview was over.