Blood Rush
Chapter Twelve: Tragedy in Haley's Circus
All eyes on me in the center of the ring just like a circus.
A CRACK! and then a spiral of ribbon caught fire, Deedee facing a thousand pairs of eyes under the bright spotlight.
When I crack that whip, everybody gon' trip just like a circus.
Deedee somersaulted through the whip-like spirals of flame, barely catching her skimpy costume ablaze—a roar of applause and sudden, hitched gasps filled the big tent amongst her onlookers. The more risks that Deedee took in her routine, the more the crowd ate it up. The Ringmaster had asked her to take the opening act by storm; so, remembering Jerome's lesson about trying to maintain control, Deedee was reckless, throwing caution to the wind.
Don't stand there watching me, follow me, show me what you can do—
Deedee flipped onto her hands, catching the flaming poles of ribbon with her two feet—her eyes reflected the flames, how close they were to touching her face; but she slowly breathed in and out to calm the quickening heart beat in her chest—Just let the pieces land where they fall, Deedee…She heard Jerome's voice in her head. Don't take it so seriously. It wouldn't hurt so much if you stop giving a shit.
Her legs bent at unreasonable extensions as she waved the pole between her feet, hand-walking along the platform.
Everybody let go, we can make the dance floor just like a circus.
Pushing against the sandy surface, Deedee propelled herself up into the air—landed on her feet—the fire roared, the flames reaching out—Catch it, Deedee—Catch it!
Deedee caught the pole in her hand and whipped the flames with another CRACK!
And just like that, the flames went out, smoke circling her like a smokescreen. When it cleared, she bowed.
Applause!
Deedee bowed, grinning triumphantly, glowing with pride. She glanced to the Ringmaster, whom held his megaphone, but smacked the side of his hand approvingly. She heard his call, "Brava! Bravissima!" Roses launched from the crowd, landing here and there by Deedee's bare feet. She gave a curtsy.
"Delilah Valeska!" the Ringmaster announced to the crowd. "Our own favorite pyro, am I right? Careful…" he winked at the crowd. "She's lethal!"
Deedee searched the crowd for one familiar face that she had hoped would be attending her fire dance. Hidden just in the background behind Mr. Strong was the beaming expression of her brother, Jerome. He gave her a small salute—then she saw him toss a flower at her feet. Glancing down at it, Deedee's face took on an intrigued smirk.
A single, blooming lilac on a single stem.
That sense of humor…Jerome winked, and then he disappeared into the crowd.
Deedee gave another small bow, then she somersaulted off the platform, exiting left stage out the back of the big tent where all participants of Haley's Circus exited once their performance finished. Blanketed by the darkness of the night sky, she wandered to the circle of trailers, bouncing up the steps and entered the Valeska trailer, closing the door. Still glowing from her successful performance, Deedee strode toward the kitchen table to celebrate with a tall drink.
Her attention caught when she heard a slow clap. Deedee turned to see Jerome clapping, teasingly even, as he entered the dining room with a smile plastered on his face, "Well…done…Sister."
"You were right, by the way," Deedee said breathlessly, approaching him, and she threw her arms around his neck. "I did it."
He wrapped his hands around her waist. "You did."
"Not one burn tonight," said Deedee.
She smelled of the familiar scent of fireworks and flowers that had intoxicated Jerome the very first night that they had shared together. She finally understood. Her performance had been spectacular, more successful than ever, because she didn't give a single fuck what happened. Recklessness combined with the devil-may-care attitude had won the hearts of the daredevil crowd, drawing out wide eyes and entrancement.
"For the first time," Deedee breathed, beaming so brightly that her smile met her eyes so intensely, Jerome thought it would become permanent, "For the first time, Brother, I felt so free!"
Jerome pinched her chin between his index finger and thumb affectionately, "Isn't it wonderful? What a rush."
"Blood rush," she squealed, unable to contain her excitement. "I thought that I could breathe fire!"
"Isn't that a hoot?" said Jerome.
Their celebration, however, was suddenly cut short at a hard knock on the door. Knock, Knock, Knock. Deedee's brow furrowed; Jerome glanced toward the door with interest. They exchanged mildly confused glances.
"Expecting anyone, Brother?" Deedee inquired, her grip tightening around his neck.
"No. You?"
"No…" Deedee answered him slowly.
Jerome placed a swift kiss on her cheek, and he released her. "I'll answer it."
"Jerome, wait," Deedee said in a hushed voice, suddenly grabbing him tightly around his wrist. "What if it's the cops—?"
"Don't think," he reminded her.
"But Lila—" Deedee started; Jerome shook his head and placed a finger against her lips, his mouth parting with warning. Remember what I said.
"You're a performer, aren't you?" Jerome said quietly.
Deedee nodded.
"Well, then…Perform." Jerome said with a mischievous grin.
Deedee followed him to the door. She grabbed a robe off the coat rack and wrapped it around her, holding it close. When Jerome opened the door, Deedee's stomach turned uncomfortably as her eyes fell upon the Ringmaster, a woman she did not recognize, and a handsome fellow with a very serious look on his face. The people didn't worry her; but the badge shining brightly upon the handsome fellow's hip…that did.
"GCPD," he said. "I'm Detective Gordon; I'm here to speak with Lila."
Jerome glanced at Deedee inquisitively. Deedee assumed that anything that her brother said would be a deterrent to their true involvement with Lila's disappearance. She would play along, despite the tightening knot in the pit of her stomach. Jerome grabbed a coat and put it on, stepping out of the trailer dutifully; Deedee followed suit, closing the door behind her. She was suddenly aware of the brisk air catching in her robe, shivering slightly.
"You're the fire dancer," said the woman beside Detective Gordon with an excited hand.
"Yes, ma'am," answered Deedee respectfully, offering a genuine smile.
"You were amazing," she gushed. She had a beautiful face, a charming gaze.
Deedee passed a hand insecurely along a rogue scar on the side of her temple, observing the kind woman's flawless skin. Jerome glanced at his sister curiously; she wasn't one to show envy amongst other women, but then again, there wasn't a lot of exposure to the outside elements. The pluck of the options in a garden variety environment like Haley's Circus had its limited choices. He wondered vaguely if Deedee thought that he might have settled. He could hear it now, their mother's nagging voice— "Of all the women out there"—
"Well," said Deedee gently, "it's always nice to meet a fan."
"Lee Thompkins," introduced the woman sweetly, holding her hand out.
"Deedee," Deedee returned softly, returning the handshake—Lee's hand was quite soft. Was hers more calloused to do the riveting job—?
"Where is Lila Valeska?" Gordon asked, not entirely sharing in the woman's interested engagement. Quite the broody type.
"She's not here," said Jerome, concerned. "Why? What's happened?"
"Where is she?" Gordon returned.
"I don't know," said Jerome. "She was supposed to be home ages ago."
Deedee tuned in, "She usually lets us know when she'll be out for a period of time, Detective."
"Are you a relative?" Gordon asked. The questions were fired appropriately. Hopefully, he didn't start asking the wrong ones.
"I'm her son, Jerome. Deedee's brother," replied Jerome for clarification.
Detective Gordon said, "When did you last see her?"
"This morning," said Jerome. "She was here when I left for the library…"
The Ringmaster, sensing Jerome's 'anxiety', stepped in. His face was kind, but his voice hinted at the possibility of keeping the police out of the situation altogether, to pacify the detective. To make them go away. It was something that Deedee would very much prefer to keep within Haley's Circus as well.
"Relax, Jerome," the Ringmaster soothed him, "this gentleman is just here because Owen and Al had a disagreement. Your mother is fine. Gone on a spree, no doubt. You know how she is…"
"A spree?" said Jerome. Deedee felt her neck tighten. He'd push this as far as possible, wouldn't he? "Without her hat, her coat, or her purse?"
"Jerome, honey…" Deedee bit her lip. The slip of the term of endearment sent a quaking chill down her back. Jerome turned in her direction pointedly. "Brother," she continued, "Mother's always been in and out for days on end…"
She hoped her slip had gone unnoticed. It seemed so, for neither the detective or the beautiful face of Lee Thompkins had stunted. It wasn't uncommon, perhaps, for the odds of Circus people to refer to each other like that…maybe. Or perhaps they didn't even think of it. Stop thinking, Deedee.
A hissing from the cage behind them…Sss..Sss..SS…. Deedee turned to see Sheba, their mother's pet snake in the cage. Jerome patted the cage with a tender hand, "Look at her…She's distraught. She knows something's wrong."
Jerome, why are you pushing this? Deedee frowned. Perhaps her expression was accepted as a concerned daughter, trying to soothe her younger brother's duress.
"Yes, that snake does seem a bit agitated," Detective Gordon remarked, though it was veiled in skepticism.
"Sir," the Ringmaster insisted, "She's what you call a 'party girl'." He made a small chuckle, nervous—but a chuckle.
Deedee and Jerome both shared a look of annoyance. Lila Valeska, a party girl? Drunken whore, more like.
"Back in the morning with her knickers in a handbag," said the Ringmaster, "Sure as eggs."
"But she didn't take her handbag, did she?" said Detective Gordon suspiciously.
"Mother," Deedee said intently, "is wild, yes, but she wouldn't just leave the Circus without letting us know where she was going." She turned to Detective Gordon. "Haley's Circus migrates, Sir. She'd want us to let her know when we'd pack up and head off to the next city…" She shot the Ringmaster a look, "She was wild, but she was a good mother."
Jerome side-glanced her. There it is, Deedee. Act your fucking ass off.
Gordon surveyed the snake thoughtfully. "How fast does a snake like that move?"
"Fast walking pace," answered Jerome. "They rely on surprise, mainly."
"Let her out." Gordon said casually.
Deedee couldn't help but utter an amused chuckle. Jerome stared at Gordon.
"I'm sorry?" said Jerome.
"Let her out," repeated Gordon.
Jerome pulled up the bars of the cage; Sheba hissed loudly, her scaly body slowly falling out of the hay-filled cage. Deedee stood behind Jerome. As he was the stage hand, Jerome had the most interaction with the giant serpent; Deedee, however, tried to stay away from their mother's dearest familiar as much as possible. Sheba's long neck extended to Deedee momentarily, its long tongue flicked out—Deedee uttered a small cry when she felt Sheba's tongue lightly graze her bare feet. However, Sheba slithered the opposite direction, making her way several feet away from their trailer. Gordon, Lee Thompkins, the Ringmaster, Jerome, and Deedee quickly followed the serpent's path—
Deedee knew that eventually their mother would be found this way. There was no way of stopping it. However, she was genuinely intrigued when Sheba's path led to a hay bale cart, covered by a large, burlap tarp. Deedee quietly grabbed Jerome's hand—even if he objected to her obvious sign of distress, it was genuine enough that no one would argue that Lila Valeska's children were quite concerned. Jerome squeezed her fingers in turn…Easy…
Sheba climbed on top of a few hay bales and then inch by inch, slowly disappeared under the tarp.
Gordon approached it. Deedee braced for it.
He threw off the tarp.
One dead Lila Valeska, bludgeoned and beaten within inches of her life, lay in the cart cuddled by her pet, Sheba. Deedee felt Jerome's weight fall as he fell to his knees, suddenly crying. Deedee stopped him from falling hard, catching him under-handed by the support of his underarms…
"Oh, my god!" Lee gasped, staring at the obscene sight.
"Mom…" Deedee whispered, staring into Lila's lifeless face.
The only person who seemed to not have the appropriate reaction of finding a dead Circus member, one of their own, was the Ringmaster. Gordon turned on him, confronting him—
"You knew. You knew she was here."
"No…"
"Look at me."
The Ringmaster recanted, "…She was like that when we found her…"
We? Deedee glanced up at the Ringmaster, who only gazed down at her in what could only be recognized as one of apology. How many others already knew Lila was dead? How many others?!
"There, there, Jerome…" Deedee cooed, still staring at the Ringmaster. "I know…I know…"
If there was any hope of picking up and leaving Gotham to get back on the road again, to be free in Haley's Circus to do as they please, it seemed slim now.
They were in Gotham until the mystery was solved. And if Detective Gordon was smart enough to let the snake sniff out their mother, Deedee wondered exactly just how clever he really was. What would he uncover? What would he discover?