The underground trailer park was the newest discovery by Nathaniel in this town. He was glad to see it wasn’t underground, and the cool breeze felt nice. There were trailers and not much else. Although, he could’ve sworn he’d heard a dog barking around.
He heard the rustling of steps coming near to him. It was the ringmaster from the circus. The circus left a while ago.
Nathaniel and Beck never did find out if the twins were actually magical. Instead, Beck was surprised by someone or something they’d seen before. Something to do with their father. Beck had told Nathaniel that they would talk about it later, but Nathaniel didn’t know when.
The event from the gold tent didn’t mean much to Nathaniel, he hadn’t been there - however, the gold seemed to be tainted by blood. Even if there wasn’t really blood there.
The ringmaster’s head was hanging, and his hands were drooping down, a glass of whiskey in one. The paint on his face seemed to be peeling a little, but the mustache was still a smile. Just like the circus, Nathaniel was sure the ringmaster was an old element of his childhood.
“A nice girl talked to me today,” the ringmaster said with a slight southern accent, and the sound of a seasoned drunkard.
“That’s good to hear,” Nathaniel replied, turning to face him. “Who was she?”
“A girl from where y'all live, the apartments... Ah- Banks is, er, her name, I think.”
“She works at Jimmy's. Seems she likes that place a lot…” Nathaniel mumbled off.
The ringmaster was quiet for a while, but he then slowly stepped closer to Nathaniel.
“Ya, know boy,” the ringmaster declared out, “I’s feelin’ you’ve been to my circus ‘fore the night you was there.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, furrowing his brow.
“Oh, twas much a-time ago. There were many things back then,” he sighed. “Ya know, there was many-a folks there, back then. There was an old man who was famous once.”
“What happened to him?” Nathaniel inquired.
“He died. The cops didn’t think to look at ‘im.” he paused. “No one looked at ‘em,”
“But he was famous long ago, fo’ playin’ the electric violin,” the ringmaster said, looking out and tilting his head a little.
The silence seemed to carry on in the air. It was like suppressing a storm with divine powers, or stopping water flow with a dam. There was going to be a release, a revelation.
“Your favo’ color was gold, wasn’t it?” the ringmaster asked.
Nathaniel looked at the man, no sound coming out and no ability of movement in Nathaniel’s possession any longer.
“Ah, but, back then, the circus was, er, lawless,” the ringmaster said.
“And there was an accident. An, ah, accident that killed some- no, some people that you knew. People ya loved,” the ringmaster peered at Nathaniel, his face seeming to ask for confirmation.
“You was there with them, just as you had been many, many times before. And then, suddenly-”
“Stop,” Nathaniel said. “You don’t-”
“That was when they died. And when you should’ve died.”
“Oh?” the ringmaster said, almost seeming sorry. “Yeah, o’ course. They didn’ tell ya. No, no, of course not... guesses ya forgot you was there!” he said.
The gold bars appeared in Nathaniel’s vision. The crowd was cheering. The clowns were balancing on unicycles, and the lion tamers controlling the roaring beast.
Nathaniel covered his face, the darkness insuring.
The image came back.
Blood. Blood. Blood.
He fell to his knees and he knelt down, his whole body shaking. He felt the tears stream down his face.
“Ya, of all of ‘em, somehow survived,” the ringmaster said, looking down at Nathaniel. Nathaniel gasped and groaned. He kicked the ground with his shoes. He dug the palms of his hands into his eyes, the tears still going. He rubbed and rubbed, but the blood was still there.
“I am sorry,” the ringmaster said softly.
Nathaniel stayed knelt there for a long time. The ringmaster’s steps slowly echoed away from him. Soon it was still air, slowly getting colder as it became darker.Nathaniel, with a sigh, slowly stood up from the ground. He sniffed and rubbed his eyes, wiping his face. He turned around and began to walk back to Winthrop Place.