Amber by Dan-Dwayne Spencer (e book reader .TXT) 📕

“Don’t be so silly. It’s not blood they’re after.”

“Well, that’s good to know.” I thought for a moment and asked, “If they don’t want blood, what do they want?”

She solemnly answered, “Here there is only one currency—your soul.”

Surely, she hadn’t traded her soul for my ticket, I gasped, “You didn’t actu—”

“No. I wouldn’t.” Her expression tilted a bit—shyly, she said, “Would you believe I knew the girl running the booth?”

I nodded. Flower seemed to know everyone in Kansas—even the ghosts.

Two of the handsome carnies, one man wearing a leather vest and the other a boy my age in a puffy-sleeved shirt, brought a stake and some rope to the canvas billboards. The leather vested guy yelled, “Put another dead man in the ground here to hold the marque down. Mr. Cumberland says it’s going to get rough tonight and we don’t want to lose anything.”

“Did he say he was going to bury a dead man?” I almost yelled, I couldn’t help it.

Flower explained, “A dead man is a stake put in with an extra guy-line to hold something down.” She grinned. “It’s carney talk. Carnies have a language of their own.”

The boy with puffy sleeves looked our way and dropped everything. He rushed to Flower and grabbed her by the waist. “Flechia, it is so good to see you,” he exclaimed.

“He called her Flechia. She is not telling you everything,” Mr. Dark warned. “Don’t trust her.”

I answered by thinking, not speaking, “You think I trust her? Well, maybe I do—a little. But why should I trust you any more than her?” I figured he could hear my thoughts like he did at the pond, and by not speaking, people wouldn’t think I’d lost my marbles.

Mr. Dark didn’t respond. He’d either left or had no comeback to my question.

When I looked up, the boy lifted Flower off her feet and swung her around. Her gifted laughter, filled with the sound of a young girl’s joy, stirred a warm breeze blowing through the chilly carnival’s lot.

“Put me down, Seth. It is good to see you too. It has been a long time.”

“Has it?” he said. “I can never tell. It feels like it’s been summer for a hundred years.” He stepped back and looked her over. “Would it be redundant of me to say you are looking well? But, of course, you are. How else would you be? My dear gifted friend, you barely change at all.”

“Nor you, Seth.” Her smile faded. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

“What brings you to The Cumberland Circus of the Bizarre? You can’t tell me it’s just to visit old friends. You’re not here to see your father, are you? That old bastard is still the grumpiest old sot there is.”

“What the hell, your father is here?” I exclaimed.

“I told you not to trust her,” Mr. Dark whispered through my confusion.

Seth looked up as if seeing me for the first time. “Seth Hawkins is my name.” He stuck a hand out.

Determined to make a manly impression, I gave it an extra hardy shake. “Arland Loveless. And how do you know Flower?”

He said, “Her and me wer—”

Looking straight at me, Flower interrupted. “That’s not important now, we’re in a hurry. I promise to tell you all about it later.” She turned to Seth and said. “Walk with me.” She headed down the midway. “We need to see Phoenix.”

He stopped in his tracks. “Sure you do.” Unmistakable disgust filled his eyes.

“Don’t be like that.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s important.”

I looked up in time to see the frontman for the hoochie girls heading my way.

“How important?” Seth asked.

Flower pulled me close and without asking pushed my face up close to Seth’s.

He took one good look at my eyes and cried, “Holy Crap.” Seth recoiled a step back. “You need to see Phoenix.”

Chapter Twelve

The Carnival

“Yes, I told you.” Flower said. “Put your personal feelings aside and lead me to Phoenix’s tent.” She looked past Seth to where the hoochie girl’s frontman trotted toward us. “Not a word to Homer. We don’t need his interference, and for heaven’s sake don’t stare at the dancing girls. They have a sensual power over men.”

With the dancing girl named Calypso behind him, the approaching carney stopped when he saw Seth’s reaction, then suddenly his expression changed—he recognized Flower. “Flechia, sweetheart, what brings you to our miserable part of the world.”

“Homer, we’ll catch up before I leave.”

She lied. I was sure of it.

“Right now I want to show my friend Daddy’s carnival.”

I avoided meeting his stare. As for Calypso, the swaying of those nerve-racking hips made it hard to ignore her. I locked my eyes on my new sandals and kept them there.

“Oh, my dear Flechia, I’m sure there’s nothing you would like better than to come back here and bring your friends—to visit.” Hector pulled his black eyebrows close together and furrowed his forehead.

Seth grabbed my hand and headed the opposite way around the carousel. Homer trailed behind us. The boy sounded as if he was indeed giving me a tour. “And, this is our Eli.”

Flower leaned over and said, “Eli is carney talk for a Ferris wheel.”

“Well, yes, and she’s a fine one too. Mr. Cumberland says she’s unique because her decoration was designed by a famous Frenchman. I can’t remember his name—Babdali, or something like that.”

Flower added, “Bartholdi, Frederic Bartholdi designed the art pieces on this one.”

I’m sure he must have been famous, but I’d never heard of him. What I knew was, he had built one beautiful antique Ferris wheel. Glancing behind her, Flower took my arm like I was some kind of gentleman. “Remember, stay close. You promised,” she whispered.

Homer pursued casually, keeping a reasonable