I watched Patrick talk with a police officer from a distance while I was sitting on our trailer´s stairs. My parents tried to fight quietly a few steps away from me and their fighting grew more intense the more people left and the longer the police stayed on the fairground. Danny didn´t come home in the morning and we had no idea where he was. The fact that we couldn´t even lie about his whereabouts made it even worse. There was nothing we could do for him. Whatever he had done he stood alone. My only hope was that he was smart enough to stay away until we left in the evening so maybe there was a chance of us getting away with him.
When Patrick made his way towards me I jumped to my feet and almost ran towards him.
"What did they say?" I asked, restless and troubled.
My parents quietly joined our conversation and I could see their aversion towards him but even their dislike of the Jane family wasn´t enough to keep them away from the only information they could get.
"He robbed a shop in town. Stole some liquor and managed to escape."
That few information seemed to be enough for my father to think he could negotiate with the police so he stormed away and dragged my mom after him.
"What else?" I begged him to tell me more because I knew from the look on his face that he didn´t tell me everything.
"It was the corner store I showed him." Sorrow in his voice and I could clearly see that he was mildly uncomfortable telling me.
I felt like slapping him but somewhere I found the smallest amount of patience I could come up with to give him one chance to explain before I lost my temper. "Did you have something to do with this?"
"I didn´t tell him to rob it!"
"What did you tell him then?" I cut in.
"I joked about how easy it could be because there were some major security issues. That was it." He made some gestures that should probably tell me how minor this was before he continued. "Maybe I explained how I would do it."
"Are you out of your mind?!" I yelled and shoved him at the same time hoping he would break his neck when falling.
"Come on! I tried to beat him out of it. The cops said they wouldn´t search for him if he left with us tonight. I won´t tell him something like this again. Promise."
"No you won´t! You will not talk to him again." My yelling became a dangerous hissing.
"I don´t care what you do with your life and I don´t care if you spent the rest of your life in prison but when you put my brother up to bullshit like this you will regret it. Do. You. Understand. Me!?"
I was already stomping off when he shouted after me: "Oh come on. You do care about me."
I could hear his disgusting grin in his words and it made me rush back and hit him in the face so hard he stumbled back and tripped over his own feet. Weird satisfaction flooded my body as he held his nose making painful grunting noises while trying to get on his own two feet again. And as I turned my back on him huddled on the ground I saw Danny walking onto the fairground.
I only managed to mumble an "Oh no." before the police got a glance of him. He didn´t even try to run away when they came after him knowing that it was too late for escaping this time.

The following day everything was quiet. So damn quiet. Not even Patrick's father yelled at some random worker breaking down the tents. My parents didn't fight and May didn't greet me when I came to feed her and lead her to her wagon. The police took Danny. God knows for how long they will keep him imprisoned. But the carnival never stops, never stays in one place too long. The day was sweltry and the air heavy on our minds.
Patrick was … there and also not really. I was relieved that he was for once listening to what I said and keeping away from me and our family. In half an hour we would all get in our trailers and drive off to an even hotter and muggier location. We would travel for hours, not getting there until two days later. Danny will never find us let alone reach us without any money or knowledge where we were going. He never cared for knowing what came next. There was nothing new. Always the same.
"Annie, help your mother secure the chairs on the roof, will you?" my father yelled. I didn't bother responding, just trotted over and climbed on the roof of our trailer for my mother to hand me the chairs so I could tie them down.
"Angela." It was Patrick's voice. With his hands in his ripped jeans' pockets he was looking up to me with puppy eyes and his damn golden hair. While I was plotting an answer that I hoped would hurt him, my father came first:
"You should leave, Patrick."
"I was just trying to speak to her." His hands never left his pockets and his eyes never left me.
"You caused enough trouble with Danny. You will leave!" My father planted himself in front of him threateningly and I purposefully looked away, lashing the last of the ropes down. From the corner of my eyes I saw Patrick being unimpressed by the threat and with a smirk on his lips he said, louder, to make sure I heard him: "Tell her I was here." He turned and left and left my father shaking his head, yelling after him
"You're too much your father for your own good." but Patrick didn't react. That day we left without my brother. The police wouldn't let us talk to him, not tell him where we went. They wouldn't let us leave him money. That day was quiet.