Jonesy and Gecko dashed through the empty carnival grounds, dodging tent after tent, trailer after trailer until they came upon Gecko and Lionel's wagon. Samson followed behind them in his own hurried pace but even using his tiny cane as a third leg, his small, dwarfish frame could only run so fast. Jonesy was no better, what with his bum knee and squeaky, metal joint brace, but he could really shake a leg if called upon. Gecko was in a state of near hysteria, sobbing unabashedly as he followed behind, clutching himself tightly through his housecoat as if he were freezing, as if they had set up camp in the biting chill of the Arctic instead of the dry and humid heat of Oklahoma.

They burst in the door and rushed over to Lionel, who was still lying in bed. His face was calm and peaceful, eyes closed, mouth slightly open, as if he were in the deepest, most relaxed state of sleep one could attain.

Gecko stood behind Jonesy, timidly peering around him, standing on tiptoes to look over his shoulders. He didn't want to get too close; didn't want to face the fact that something was terribly wrong with his lover. "Is he dead?" he asked over the lump in his throat. His lips were quivering. "Oh please, God. Don't let him be dead."

Jonesy slapped Lionel's cheeks a couple times, trying to prompt a response from him but got nothing. "Lionel? Hey!" Gecko winced at each fleshy smack. "Wake up, Lionel!" Jonesy pulled the man's jaw down and peered into his mouth. Then he reached inside and began twisting and pulling at something lodged deep within the young man's throat. A moment later, he extracted a thick, wet clump of congealed dust the size of a mealworm. He flicked it from his fingers and it hit the floor with a wet thwop! "Got dust in his throat. Clogged up his airway. Probably came in through this open window," he said, gesturing to the flapping curtains over Lionel's bed.

"Impossible! I made sure it was closed before we turned in. I always do," Gecko said, shaking his head. "He must have opened it sometime during the night."

Jonesy put his ear to Lionel's chest and listened for a heartbeat.

Samson finally joined the three, hobbling up the trailer's steps one at a time. Several Rousties had seen the commotion and followed. "Well, what's the verdict? Is he still ticking?"

"Lionel, don't do this to me," Gecko sobbed. He paced nervously back and forth as Samson walked over to the bed and stood next to Jonesy. "Don't you dare leave me."

"I can hear a heartbeat but it's faint. Very faint. If we don't get him to a doctor soon, we're gonna lose him."

Samson frowned. He hated going into these hayseed towns unless it was absolutely necessary. And unfortunately, this looked like one of those times. "Better start up the truck."

Lila, the carnival's Rubenesque "Bearded Lady" stirred from her slumber. Noise. Outside the trailer. Some kind of fuss going on in Gecko and Lionel's wagon parked next door. She opened her eyes, scratched at the patch of thick, dark hair on her chin, then suddenly startled and jerked up in bed, surprised to see Lodz already awake and dressed. He was sitting in the chair directly across from her, his fingers -with their finely-manicured nails- rolling his polished Hickory walking stick back and forth between his hands, as if patiently waiting on something. And he was. He was waiting for her to wake. He'd already slicked back the short, silvery hair that was quickly thinning atop his scalp and had put on his best smoking jacket. His dark sunglasses hid the milky whites of his blind eyes and a mischievous smile sat parked across his lips, the kind he usually wore when something fishy was up. "What's going on?" she asked, confused, pulling the bed sheets back and swinging her plump feet out from beneath them to find her slippers.

His voice, a slight European accent: "Get dressed, my dear. We're going into town."

"How come?" she wondered, pulling herself off the mattress and reaching for her coat.

"Lionel has apparently taken ill."

"Is he gonna be okay?" she asked, reaching for the veil she wore whenever she went out into town. She liked it because its intricate stitch work concealed her beard nicely.

Lodz stood up from his chair and steadied his walking stick on the wood floor of their trailer. "How should I know?" he shrugged coyly. "I'm just a mind reader, not a fortune teller."

Then his smile turned into an ugly, wicked grin, full of shiny white teeth that looked much too big for his mouth.

Sophie drew back the curtains covering the old, converted School Bus's windows and saw Jonesy carrying Lionel's limp body over to his truck, followed closely by Samson and Gecko. There was urgency in their moves and right away she knew something was wrong. "Uh oh, looks like Lionel's in some kind of trouble." She dashed to her dresser and started to pull on an overcoat.

Across the room, her mother, Apollonia, -her eyes open wide in a glazed, unblinking stare; her mouth a thin, pale line drawn down at the ends in a disapproving, perpetual frown- lay motionless in her catatonic state, useless hands at her sides, useless legs that never moved beneath their bed sheets. She hadn't spoken in years but that didn't mean she was quiet. She often conversed with her daughter. Telepathically. Much too often, in Sophie's opinion. But such was the power of an old and ailing gypsy fortune teller. She asked her daughter where she thought she was going.

"I'm going to go see if they need help," Sophie answered aloud as she buttoned up her coat and then tied her shoes. She paused as her mother continued 'speaking', then sighed and threw her hands up in frustration. "It is too my business, Mother! How can you say that? Lionel's my friend. And so's Gecko. I'm concerned for them." She strode quickly across the room to her mother's bedside. "Looks like we're going into town. I'll be back in a little while." She leaned down and kissed her mother's forehead. The old woman didn't move, didn't blink. Just as still and unresponsive as a corpse. Sophie turned on her heels and started to leave when her mother 'said' something that made her stop in her tracks and swing back around.

"What do you mean by that?" But Apollonia said no more. Sophie was used to her mother's cryptic responses but that didn't mean she always understood them. Irritated: "I don't understand, Mother. Tell me! If you're trying to warn me about something, you have to tell me what it is!" She waited for a response but got none. "Fine! Be that way! You can be such a child sometimes!" Sophie threw open the door, paused as she remembered something, then added over her shoulder, "I'll fix your breakfast when I get back." The door slammed shut and she was gone. Apollonia sighed, causing a small saliva bubble to burst from the corner of her mouth.

Sophie hopped onto the back of the truck with the others and took a seat just as Jonesy threw the clutch into gear and gunned the gas pedal. The truck lurched forward and everyone reached out to steady themselves as the truck sped down the pot-hole riddled dirt road, kicking up a thick cloud of dust in its wake. Gecko was crying, cradling Lionel in his scaly, Alligator arms. Lodz and Lila were sitting next to him, Lila rubbing his back, offering what little comfort she could, Lodz just sitting there next to her, face turned to the wind, a bemused smirk on his lips. He gave Sophie the creeps. She knew he was blind but sometimes when he looked at you, even through those dark glasses he always wore, you could almost feel those cloudy white eyeballs staring right back at you. She didn't trust him. Never did. He always carried himself as if he had the goods on you. Like he knew all your most deepest, darkest secrets. Hell, he probably did. And he had no qualms about using them for whatever dubious purpose suited him or his over-inflated ego. She had to be careful with her thoughts around him, she reminded herself. He could read them. No matter how hard she tried hiding them -and not just her but anybody- sometimes he could still read them. But her thoughts weren't on the good Professor Lodz this morning. They were still trying to decipher her mother's parting words to her:

Steer clear of the pink-eyed man.

What the hell was that supposed to mean? And why was she so evasive when asked to explain herself? Whenever they had customers in their bus and were reading the tarot cards for them, her mother would often say strange and cryptic things like that but it wasn't Sophie's responsibility to expound on them. She just relayed the message and it was up to the customer to interpret its meaning. Sometimes it made sense to them and sometimes it didn't. "The message will make itself clear over time," was the response she told them whenever they didn't understand what the cards were showing them. She supposed the same advice applied to her as well. But if her mother would just come out and say what the hell she meant instead of being such a bitch---

"And how is your mother this morning?" Lodz asked. "Still fighting with her, I see."

Sophie snapped back to reality and turned to find Lodz staring at her, that detestable shit-eating grin still plastered across his tanned face. Damn him. He was doing it again. Invading her head. Reading her thoughts. She thought of the two words she wanted to tell him. Concentrated on them really hard.

Lodz smiled behind his dark glasses and shook his head. "Tsk Tsk Tsk. How un-lady like."

Sophie turned away from him and stared off into the distance. Ahead of them, the flat and plainly unattractive buildings of Knauff, Oklahoma -bleached white by the harsh glare of the pounding sun- were quickly approaching on the horizon. She hated Townies. Liked them when they had money in their hand, hated them when they didn't. Hated them even more in situations like this; being put at their mercy. Because when it came down to her and her friends, they never showed any. She wished it was just a case of her being overly-cynical, that Townies weren't really all that bad, but unfortunately they had proven her wrong time and time again. To them, Carnies were nothing more than vagabonds and swindlers; stray dogs that wandered into their towns, stole their food, stole their money, then left before Johnny Law could kick them out. And that was just fine by her. Let them think what they want if it kept them at bay. Sophie knew the truth, though. And it was the reason she had no problems taking their money. As soon as the tents went up, as soon as the generators roared to life, as soon as all the midway lights turned on for business, they came. They always came. And they came willingly.

"We're almost there, sweetheart," Gecko whispered to Lionel and lovingly stroked his hair, his face. "Just hang on a little bit longer, okay?" Lionel was unresponsive.

With a screech of tires, Jonesy steered the truck into the hospital's parking lot and stopped in front of its double glass doors. Everyone piled out of the back and helped Gecko lower Lionel off the bed. Jonesy took the young man into his arms and carried him up the steps, the entourage following close behind him. He kicked open the door and entered the crowded waiting room.

"Hey! We need some help here!" he called out. "This man's dying!"

Everyone turned and gasped in horror at the motley crew: a waddling midget, an Alligator Man, an old blind man, a fat bearded lady, a normal young girl, and a cripple carrying another Alligator Man in his arms. Nobody moved. All they could do was stand and stare.

"Are we gonna get some help here or what?" Jonesy yelled.

to be continued!