Adeline very well could have gone to lunch at the Mott home that very next day, but on Halloween, she preferred to remain with her troupe. For those circles in which she had run, all her life, it was not only tradition to forego performing on Halloween, but also an additional safeguard and display of reverence to choose not to leave the lot for social engagements or pleasurable jaunts on the day.
She had, however, decided to call and accept Gloria's invitation. Just after nine fifteen, she parked her truck beside the phone booth and, with a wince as her ankle throbbed, she hopped down onto the running board and went to the booth, enclosing herself within. As she waited for the operator to make the connection for her, she propped up her leg and examined the bandage she had re-dressed that morning, begrudgingly thinking to herself that her father would be proud of the proficiency in wound care it demonstrated.
A disgruntled sigh followed a forced, feigned sentiment over the line as Dora spoke.
"Mott Residence, Happy Halloween."
Adeline resisted the urge to laugh. She liked the woman a great deal, and appreciated what appeared to be, in their limited interactions, her apparent general lack of pretense.
"Hi Dora, it's Adeline!" she said.
"Oh, Miss Adeline, how you doin'?" Dora was relieved. She could finally answer Gloria in the affirmative when her employer asked her, for what would be the sixth time since she handed the girl the note the day before, if she had called.
As if summoned by mere thought, Dora could hear the clicking of Gloria's heels down the hallway.
"I'm just fine, Dora, and yourself?" Adeline answered.
Gloria fluttered into the kitchen, looking at Dora expectantly.
"Is that Adeline?" she asked.
Adeline could hear her name being spoken in the background.
Dora was surprised the girl had asked after her wellbeing. Instead of deferring to Gloria directly, she nodded at Mrs. Mott to confirm that it was in fact she on the phone, but decided to answer the girl first before turning the phone over.
Gloria clapped her hands together in the meantime, and Adeline could hear her voice echoing through the room at the other end of the line, saying
"Oh, Dandy will be so happy. He's spoken of nothing else since yesterday!"
Those calling for Gloria usually replied that they were fine and proceeded to ask to speak with Mrs. Mott. As far as Dora was concerned, her part of the conversation was not yet concluded.
"I'm doin' all right, thank you." She answered.
"I'm glad to hear," Adeline said. "Might I speak with Mrs. Mott, please?"
"Yes, she's right here, just a moment." Dora held out the phone and Gloria clicked across the floor to take the receiver.
"Hello, Adeline? Good Morning! Thank you so much for calling!"
Adeline was touched by the apparent enthusiasm in the woman's voice. Had Dandy really displayed that much of an affinity for her in such a short time?
"Hello, Mrs. Mott, how are you this morning?" Adeline asked.
"Oh, I'm quite well, dear, and yourself?" Gloria asked.
"I'm fine, thank you! I wanted to thank you for your note, and for your invitation, and I was hoping perhaps Sunday might be suitable for lunch, if my notice isn't too short."
"Oh, of course, dear, we would be delighted! Dandy's so very fond of you."
Gloria wondered if the order she had heard her son placing on the phone the afternoon before had arrived yet. Likely not, as Gloria was a frequent customer, and knew that their deliveries began at nine.
Adeline felt her cheeks growing warm. "Thank you for saying so."
"I'll send a car for you, around eleven?" Gloria asked. She wanted to impress upon the girl that convenience was only one of many things they could offer her.
"How kind of you," Adeline said. "That would be just fine."
"Until Sunday, then," Gloria said.
She was relieved to be able to give Dandy good news. She knew how disappointed he would be when she reminded him that his Halloween fun would be curtailed due to the curfew still in place, but she knew that informing him that his new obsession would be arriving the day after next would allay some of his frustration. He had retired back to his playroom after Adeline's departure and come out only to ask his mother for the shop's exchange, and later to sit, restlessly, at the dinner table with her until he had endured enough of the meal to ask to be excused.
Gloria had given him the pitch card then, now that it would not affect the surprise, and she had appraised the expression on her son's face as he longingly studied the photograph printed thereupon, understanding this fixation to be something new entirely. All he had said to Gloria was
"Mother…."
as he looked up at her with a kind of pleading desperation that crushed her heart. Could this girl be what she had dreamed of, for her darling son? She had made so many attempts to introduce him to suitable, aristocratic girls, and had nearly given up hope that he would ever find a woman who could spark his attention or awaken his interest. Could this…. performer…have the patience and compassion to abide his willfulness? To soothe the tortured, turbulent tempest within him? Gloria prayed she could. It had been her greatest hope for Dandy that he might find the perfect companion. That he might know genuine, lasting love, and be genuinely loved in return. She had, in more recent years, been willing to settle for something less, if it meant he might be even slightly happier than the misery he continually displayed. It appeared now that perhaps neither she not her son would have to settle at all.
"Yes, until Sunday. Oh, and Mrs. Mott?" Adeline asked.
"Yes, dear?" Gloria inquired.
"Happy Halloween."
Skip Winters liked his job as delivery boy. A senior at Jupiter High School, and a responsible student, he had earned the privilege of going to class at eleven, after he delivered his morning arrangements. He had started the job as a freshman, helping out on the weekends, and had gradually worked his way up, adjusting his school schedule so that he could increase his responsibilities. It had helped him afford a car and the extra cash to go out with friends on the weekends, and to save up for college. Besides, he liked the service he performed. He loved seeing the smiles on the faces of recipients who opened their doors to him, and enjoyed the opportunity to brighten someone's day simply by arriving at their office or residence. Today was different. He had been given specific instruction that he was not to leave the show grounds until the very special delivery, on a very important family account, had been made to its recipient. He stood at the entrance to the Freak Show, at the opening of the devil's mouth, his delivery in his hands, his legs quaking in his uniform pants.
"Uhm….Hello?" He called.
He had assumed perhaps someone at the ticket booth might be able to send him in the right direction, but it didn't appear to be open. Neat handwriting on a chalk sandwich board read
"No Performance October 31st
Happy Halloween!"
He stepped towards the demon mouth and called again
"Hello! Delivery! From Haverford & Sons! Hello?"
He exhaled, whispering, "Damnit!"
He looked around and noticed that a few dozen yards away, a pair of performers seemed to be frolicking in the tall grass, and were coming in his direction.
"Hello?" He called to them.
Pepper and Salty were trying to catch some of the beautiful yellow moths fluttering about the camp that had captured their attention that morning. Without a net, they were having a great deal of difficulty, but were enjoying themselves all the same. Pepper, hearing a voice, tugged gently on Salty's sleeve and pointed in the direction of the young man standing at the entrance to the big top. Excited, they both galumphed across the empty yard, one of Pepper's hands in Salty's, the other waving at the boy. Leading the duo, Pepper stopped a few yards away from Skip, and following her lead, Salty did the same. Skip was slightly startled by their appearance, but when Pepper smiled sweetly at him, he smiled in return, and said timidly "Hi. I'm uh…here to make a delivery?"
"Fwo-wers!" Pepper cried, pointing at his arms and grinning.
Skip looked down at the bouquet.
"Yes, flowers! Do you know…" in his distress he had already forgotten the recipient's name, quite unusual for him, and he drew out the little pad of paper from his pocket to look at his list
"Adeline Vestergaard? These are for her."
Pepper nodded emphatically. Then a dismayed look crossed her face. She sighed deeply, furrowing her brow, unsure how to explain to the stranger that she had seen Adeline leave not long before. Confused, she scratched at her head. Then she saw the bright blue truck heading across the lot towards Adeline's place on the lot, and she jumped up and down emphatically, flapping her free arm. She pointed in the direction of the truck, and, still holding Salty's hand, took off in its direction.
"Oh, uh….okay….I'll-uh…wait here?" Skip called.
When Adeline parked her truck, she noticed Pepper and Salty hurrying over to her. Stepping out, she smiled at them "Hey, you two!"
"Adda-wyne!" Pepper said, smiling.
She reached out and Adeline took her hand.
"Adda-wyne!" She tugged, gently but earnestly, and Adeline began to follow.
"All right," Adeline said, with a gay laugh, curious to see where they were going.
When they reached the entrance to the big top, Adeline noticed a nervous looking young man in a uniform standing near a big white truck with "Haverford & Sons" printed in pretty scripted lettering on the side. He was holding the most enormous bouquet she had ever seen, cradling it in both of his arms.
"Hi!" She said.
A look of relief passed over his face.
"Adda-Wyne!" Pepper declared proudly, having produced her for the young man.
"Thanks," he said, with a nod at Pepper.
"Miss Vestergaard?" he asked.
"Yes." She replied.
"These are for you…" He held them out, and she was taken aback by the weight of them.
"Thank you so much!" She was overwhelmed.
"Have a wonderful day!" He called, with a small, awkward wave, and hurried back to his truck.
"Fwo-wers!" Pepper said, peeking at the bouquet.
"Yes…..wow," Adeline replied. She was stunned by immense the bundle in her hands. She tipped it towards Pepper and Salty, so they might admire it along with her. She would later count the roses, forty-two in all. The buds, of highest quality and breeding, were the size of apples. They had been arranged in triangular solid colored shapes in groups of seven, the groupings alternating in white and red.
Adeline sighed with a smile of recognition and disbelief. "It looks like a big top," she realized, aloud.
In her caravan, the roses in one of her mother's enormous vases, Adeline sat on the floor and lay across her lap the thick red and white silk ribbons the bouquet had been tied with, and carefully opened the card that had been nestled in the heavy paper wrapping. Savoring each word, she read…
"For My Dearest Adeline,
With My Deepest Admiration and Affection.
~D.M."
She exhaled and flopped backwards onto the rug, her eyes cast upward to her elaborately painted ceiling, clutching the note to her chest.
After Meep's funeral, Adeline had returned to the tent with her new troupe mates, and continued the celebration through the afternoon and into the early evening. Now, before bed, she sat leaning against Max's tree, with a blanket around her shoulders and a glass of bourbon by her side. By the light of a lantern next to her, she maintained a family Halloween tradition, reading Washington Irving's The Legend of Sleepy Hollow as Max lay a few yards away, lapping at a bowl of rich, creamy milk she had warmed for him.
She thought she could hear music coming from the big top, and she paused to listen, convinced she could hear Elsa's voice, singing. Was the woman completely mad? She shook her head and stood, gathering the lantern, the bourbon, the blanket, and the book in her arms. She walked back to her caravan, mounting the stairs, and, leaving the screen door closed and the heavier wooden door open, she went to sit at the padded bench window seat, blowing out the lantern and leaving it on the floor.
Absorbed in the story, she sat for some time reading the familiar words, sipping at her drink, the pleasant sounds of night drifting through the screen door and the open windows of her caravan, soothing her. When she had reached the place in the story where Ichabod was described as preparing for the merrymaking at the home of Myhneer van Tassel, she became aware of a low, purring growl outside the caravan. She paused to listen, and certain that it was one of Max's threatening sounds and not simply his attempt to frighten away some bird or squirrel he didn't want bothering him, she stood and placed the book down on the bench, hurrying across the floor to the doorway. She pushed through the screen door and stood outside on the landing, straining her eyes in the sparse light that reached her slightly isolated caravan.
Max was standing at attention, his mane bristled as it had been the night before, neck jutted outward to display a face contorted in a menacing grimace, mouth open wide to exhibit his enormous canines. A deep, resounding rumble emanated continuously from his spacious lungs. A warning. His face was rarely this ferocious. She was surprised he hadn't charged given his expression. Adeline turned her attention in the direction of Max's focus. The first thing she noticed was the green haze floating above the ground, drifting in smoky swirls in the dewy grass. Adeline's hand flew up to cover her mouth as she raised her eyes and noted the silhouette of the man who trailed the emerald cloud behind him, his flowing cape, his top hat…the horrid, ancillary face sneering at her from the back of his head…it was him. The legend, the nightmare, the fairytale. Mordrake. Walking…away from her. So that was why Max hadn't attacked him. He was…leaving. Gliding across the yard, he had passed by her caravan. She had heard the stories countless times, of how he visited when a carny dared to behave carelessly on Halloween, how his victim was selected from amongst those in a troupe, their sins, their transgressions, their guilt, laid bare. And all would be required, without exception, to give confession. So why had he passed her over? Was she not the most appropriate sacrifice? Was she not stained darkest, was she not the least worthy of being spared? Adeline's vision began to distort, and she grew dizzy, reaching out for the railing on the bannister. She smelled smoke, and heard a familiar splintering and crackling, the deafening roar of the very air on fire, mixed with Max's own as it continued to resound in the dark. She felt terribly warm. Who better to judge her sin? Who better to levy her punishment?
"Wait!" She called, her voice a tremor.
The sounds in her mind, briefly crippling, dissipated.
The figure stopped mid-stride. The low rumbling in Max's throat remained, but all Adeline heard was the rustle of his cape against the grass as Mordrake turned around to face her. His face was as she expected. Familiar, even. Handsome, aristocratic, gentle. He smiled, and in place of the terrible, roasting heat, she felt comforting warmth.
He bowed to her, removing his top hat, and she caught another brief glimpse of the second face at the back of his head.
"My lady…."
The great reverence behind his greeting did nothing to placate her.
"Edward…" she whispered, as if speaking to an old friend. "You've forgotten me."
He walked to her, slow, graceful, deliberate strides, and she again had the sense that he was floating.
"I could never forget you, my treasure," he insisted, his tone compassionate and gentle.
"Then why…" she whimpered, her lower lip trembling.
He had drawn nearer now, without her noticing, and stood at the bottom step of her caravan's staircase.
"Sweet Swan…My fellow aristocrats are always spared," he explained patiently.
"What?" she breathed.
"It is our…" he rolled his eyes slightly upwards, indicating the second face "one, single compromise. The children born to performers are beyond the scope of his reaping. In life, I was begotten of nobility. In death, those begotten of my true family shall receive the honor those who betrayed me never deserved."
Adeline sighed, and her heart began to quiver in its beating as he mounted the stairs towards her. He seemed to move so quickly and yet with such fluidity that he was before her in moments, before she was fully aware that he was approaching, towering over her on the landing in his top hat. She looked up at him, searching his face.
"What if I don't want to stay?" She asked.
Edward reached out with a gentle kid-gloved hand and stroked Adeline's cheek, the way a benevolent older brother might.
"Dear child," he murmured, "it is neither my choice, nor yours." He leaned forward and placed a gentle, chaste kiss on her forehead. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, he was walking away again, across the grass. She ran down the stairs after him.
"Wait!" She called, again, her voice more confident this time.
Once more he turned, whirling around quickly again, but saying nothing.
"Do you know…where he is?" She pleaded.
"You speak now of your uncle." Edward replied.
"Yes…he….he just…disappeared," she said, bewildered. The first time she had said the words aloud.
"Of that, I am aware," he lamented. "Of his whereabouts, I know not." He tipped his hat. "A Good All Hallows Eve to you, dear one."
Adeline's lower lip quavered again, and she nodded, her brow furrowing as she blinked, tears spilling down her cheeks. She sunk to the ground, her face in her hands, and her breath caught in a sob, listening to the padding of Max's giant paws as he drew nearer. She felt the gentle impact as he nudged his giant face against her cheek. She reached up, placing her arms around his neck, struggling to catch her breath as her chest ached, and leaned into his mane, her weeping muffled. When at last she looked up, Mordrake was gone.
Dandy crashed through the forest in his homemade clown costume, his plastic mask replaced by the gruesome, smiling prosthesis hand fashioned by its former owner, Twisty. He was furious. That stupid freak and the bimbo he'd had along with him had completely ruined his Halloween. The stage had been set, the audience captive. He had been prepared to deliver a magnificent performance. And Jimmy, along with those little brats, had destroyed it. Jimmy, who had both insulted and rejected him when he had asked to join the show, and far worse, had only the day before had the audacity to tag along with his Adeline, to his home, when she was there to serve him alone. Now, his plans foiled, his Halloween nearly over, Dandy had only one destination, one desire. One single, serene creature upon the entire, vast earth whose presence could possibly ease his torment. Adeline. His Adeline. His salvation.
He waked for miles, determined, efficient, through the darkness. Until, finally, he could see the dim, distant glow of the lights from the freak show. It was long after midnight, and the entire lot was silent. He had expected that he may have to search for her caravan, but she was farther from the tents and trailers than they each were from one another, closest to the wood. The lights of the show cast only shadow, far back as she was, and from the direction he had come he needed not search long at all. A blissful, relieved smile passed over his face as he drew closer and could make out the painted banner reading "The Sensational Swan Girl & The King of the Jungle" strung across the lower half of her caravan, nearly brushing against the ground so as not to obstruct her windows.
Dandy approached cautiously, aware that her lion might be anywhere. Several yards from the caravan, however, he could hear a tremendous snoring, and, peering around the corner, he saw the cat laid out on his side, his belly rising and falling evenly as he slept. As quietly as he might, he circled back around to the steps of her caravan, painted all white, as none of the others were. He placed a foot on the first step, watching the lion several yards away to see if he had heard the noise, and seeing that the cat had not stirred, he proceeded up the stairs. He pulled open the screen door, and in the light from the moon cast at this angle, noticed the pair of white swans painted facing one another on the bright green door. He sighed in appreciation of how charming he found the decoration. He somehow knew her door would not be locked to him, and he reached out in his white fingerless gloves to gently turn the doorknob. Pleased when the door opened with ease, he pushed it inwards ever so carefully, hoping she would be asleep.
As the moonlight flooded the caravan, Dandy was impressed by the rather lavish décor within. He looked around, in awe. All the woodwork appeared to be bright, gleaming mahogany, from the little café table in the corner, to the chairs around it, the cabinets on the left hand side making up her little kitchenette, and the luxuriant widow seat on the right hand side. It was rather spacious, and Dandy realized then that it was in fact the full width and two-thirds the length of an average train car. He recalled having read that most circuses transported their setups and their performers on train cars, and it made perfect sense to him then. He could not see much in the darkness and shadow, but as he made his way silently across the beautiful Nain rug, he caught glimpses of photographs everywhere. A teenage Adeline, seated with her legs crossed in the crook of an Elephant's raised trunk. Adeline, casually dressed, beside a kindly looking man in a half buttoned dress shirt with his sleeves rolled up, the handle of a doctor's bag in one of his hands, the other on her left shoulder. Her arm left arm appeared to be about his waist. Adeline again, not looking at the camera, but down at a lion cub in her arms, sitting cross legged on a grassy patch, a bottle tipped upwards in her hand as she fed the little creature she held. Dandy's heart swelled in his chest. In the next photo, a man, seated with one leg crossed horizontally over the other, three of the lions behind him looking away from the camera, two facing it. The entire caravan, filled with photographs like these. Hanging on every wall, nearly covering all the lovely haint blue paint, propped upright on nearly all the available counter and shelving space. Adeline, sitting on a trapeze swing in a tent's theatrical lighting, raised high above the stage, poised with one leg crossed over another, toes pointed, hands encircling the ropes on either side of the swing, enormous ruffled feather train cascading down behind her, her neck and her costume dripping with glittering stones. Photographs that looked to be family photos, casually clothed and costumed, impromptu and posed, groups of cirkies and carnies laughing and smiling, their arms abut one another, in hilarious stances, with comic expressions, and in grand scenes, jumbled together like groups of raucous children, and artfully staged. And glamorous promotional photos, each one more beautiful than the last. His Adeline….was a star. But he had known that from the beginning. As he prowled through her caravan, soundlessly, he absorbed all he could in the sparse light. The soft, white curtains above her farmhouse sink billowed in a gentle breeze from beyond the open window, as did some by a window deeper within. When he reached the end of the rug, Dandy looked up, slowly, and there she was.
At the top of a set of stairs, on a raised platform, was her spacious, rather inviting looking bed, and his beloved, asleep, nestled beneath a generous white down filled duvet. A delicious trembling in his thighs, Dandy raised one foot in his fine oxfords and placed it tentatively on the first step, mounting the stairs at a pace which for him was agonizingly slow. But he could not spoil the moment by waking her. A matching runner rug lay beside the bed, and he stepped carefully onto the carpet, his head tipped downwards and sideways, a look of pure admiration on his face. She lay on her side, her right hand between one of her two enormous pillows, her left beneath the cheek that lay upon the uppermost. Dandy felt his heart swell to the point where it felt his ribs might injure the organ in attempting to contain it. Her comforter was pulled up only to her waist, and Dandy sucked in a ragged breath as his eyes roved hungrily down her figure, her pale mint silk nightgown, thin strapped and bordered in white lace dipped low on her chest, her ample, porcelain pale cleavage plainly visible. He wrenched his eyes away to scan the shelves surrounding her, filled with books of all kinds, and he gazed about in wonder, appreciative of her apparent taste. Then his eyes drifted to the nightstand beside her, and his face broke open in a grin once more, as he noticed the bouquet he had sent her placed thereupon, the little card beside it, facing her, as though she had been reading it just before bed. He sighed, a dreamy, wistful sigh. He crouched, not wishing to wake her, but unable to resist the temptation to assert himself. While he could not fulfill his greatest desire, to climb into the bed beside her, beneath the bedcovers, and enfold her protectively in his arms, and nuzzle gently at her neck, he could risk the faintest touch. He must, so strong and overwhelming the impulse. As she lay, breathing evenly, only feet from his adoring face, Dandy reached out, and ever so softly, in his fingerless gloves, brushed his fingertip along her forehead, hooking a bit of lush, pin curled hair in his finger, drawing it back behind her ear. Then he trailed his finger around beneath her earlobe and followed the line of her jaw to her jugular vein, descending languidly with two of his fingertips, applying just enough pressure to feel her pulse thumping against his skin as he trailed downward, wrenching his hand away with a strangled gasp as he reached her collarbone. He froze as she stirred slightly, tipping her face upwards with a soft sigh.
"Hmm."
Dandy shivered delightfully. However briefly she had felt it, she seemed to long for his touch. Perhaps his Halloween had not been so terrible after all. He allowed himself a few more moments to examine her beautiful face, the shadows in her collarbones, the pattern in which her hair fell across her pillow, the gorgeous deformity of the hand on which her round cheek rested. Then he licked his lips as his gaze dipped lower, studying the gentle rise and fall of her ample chest, his mind flooding with fantasies. He had to tear himself away. He reminded himself that soon she would come to him. That soon, they would never be apart. It was inevitable.
He rose to his feet, and studied her a few moments more, his heart blooming in his chest.
His Adeline. His one and only.
Before he lost the initiative to go, as he knew he must, he hurried through the caravan, locking the door carefully and quietly before seeing himself out, descending the stairs with a satisfied spring in his step as he set out once again, back into the night.