Showing posts with label Mad Carnival. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mad Carnival. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 7, 2025

Overheard at Table 4: Truth Matters

Truth Matters: Confident Faith in a Confusing World

Andrea Kostenberger, Darrell Bock, & Josh Chatraw

(c) 2014

B&H Publishing Group, Nashville TN

 


 


The premise reminds me of he first God is Not Dead Movie, in that this book is geared toward the young student entering college, who has been woefully unprepared for the rhetoric and mind-opening discourse they are about to encounter.   While the book aims at "arming" the student with better defenses against the arguments against Christian Faith, it also admits that our churches and our parenting has done a piss-poor job of raising people with any sort of true knowledge of Christ or Scripture.

Which one could argue, is the greatest problem with Christianity today: too much Sunday School Elementary-level Bible Stories for children and very little by way of true edification in the tenets of our Faith tradition.

I found the book quite helpful, and I'll highlight some of the passages that I liked, but it's best to start with the biggest critique of the book, which is that it seems to focus too much on one man, Bart Ehrman.  This professor was apparently raised in the Christian faith but left as a young man when he could not find valid answers to the apparent contradictions among different parts of the Scripture (again, a most evident demonstration of the late 20th Century's lack of coherent and logical apologetics)

Basically, this book is a direct refutation of every book Ehrman has written, which weakens the argument as a book of apologetics when it seems so petty.  It's as though these three authors all took one of Ehrman's classes and got resoundingly slapped (rhetorically) by the professor.

That said, some of the passages that seem interesting are as follows:


p 13  Paul writing that, at the time of his writing the First Letter to the Corinthians, there were still at least 500 living witnesses to Jesus's earthly ministry.   Basically, Paul was saying, "You can still go check original sources."  (I make a note of this, as this ties into a literary WIP I've been toying with)


p19 A quote from Tim Keller "The Reason for God" (2008) - a book I need to check out

    "Just because you can';t see or imagine a good reason why God might allow something to happen         doesn't mean that there can't be one.  Again we see lurking within this supposed hard-nosed                     skepticism an enormous faith in one's own cognitive faculties.  If our minds can't plumb the depths         of the universe for good answers to suffering, well, then, there can't be any!  This is blind faith of a         high order."


p34 Root Issues

    "Most of people's doubts about God in relation to suffering stem from two taproots:

        1) a refusal to see God as having divine rights over His creation, and 

        2) a minimization of the extent of human rebellion against our Creator."

This is a hard pill to swallow for most.


p113 is a section of the book in which the authors do concede that there are no original hand-written documents by the original Apostles, and they show where Ehrman uses this to cast doubt on all New Testament scripture, albeit stating that "perhaps" his agnosticism could be mollified if there were, say, an original manuscript by Mark which was 99.999999% close to the texts that we do have.   The authors make a good point that papyri do wear out.   However, they take much time to demonstrate how meticulous were the Old Testament scribes that they maintained a high level of authenticity; they also show how such scrutiny by the skeptics is not applied to other texts of the contemporary times (although this is a False Equivalence - other texts do not claim to be THE WORD OF GOD)

I wish that the authors would have taken a moment to insist that the Holy Spirit, the third part of the Triune God, if we teach ourselves that such God inspired and guided the scriptures, then the Holy Spirit can move these texts as God desires, throughout all the transcribing, and that our Bible is not the actual original ink on some papyrus, but the Word as it is spoken to humanity and accepted by the individual.

[that's a note for a future essay on the subject]


p 138 - is in a section that makes a fair point that while most skeptics think the OT was written in the 5th or 6th Centuries, that the original Gospels and Epistles were written in the 1st century, only a generation or so after Jesus's Death, Resurrection, and Ascension.


p150 "AD 33- Jesus dies and rises from the dead.  No later than AD 35, Paul is converted and adopts the church's exalted Christology and teaching on salvation."

    [NOTE: I really need to delve more into that timeline, because that does seem a bit too soon in the timeline for those events to occur.  However, I am no expert - this warrants more study on my part]


p 180 - from the Notes ... Ch 2 Note 8. Alvin Plantinga "A Christian Life Partly Lived" in Philosophers Who Believe: The Spiritual Journeys of 11 Leading Thinkers, ed. Kelly James Clark (Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 1997), 72

    Alister E McGrath,
Mere Apologetics: How to Help Seekers and Skeptics Find Faith
(Grand Rapids, Baker, 2012), 166-67



   




Friday, October 14, 2022

Overheard at Table 4: Email from a Castle in the Scottish Highlands - Mad Carnival

EMAIL FROM A CASTLE IN THE SCOTTISH HIGHLANDS


Dear Marj,

Haven't heard back from you, but haven't gotten any notification that your email address is undeliverable, so I'll just follow up with another email because I really want to tell you about the Mad Carnival, which was unbelievable!

Like I said, I hadn't seen much of the local village when I was passing through to come up here, but yes, it is absolutely the quaint village that you'd expect, with the two story buildings made of sand-colored stone as well as greys, with red brick chimneys from every roof top and spires of several churches peeking upward from the middle of them.  Just like something out of a postcard or what you would expect from late Medieval times.   Absolutely beautiful in its charm - although I guess that only we Americans find that charming.  Everybody else here seems to think it's just normal day-to-day run-of-the-mill town, which I suppose for them it is.  

But when you come from a place where buildings made in the 1970s are considered "ancient architecture" and the cities tear down 20 year old buildings to make way for something brand new that will just be torn down again in 20years, having something that's been up since the time Knights roamed the lands, that's amazing!

The Mad Carnival had set up in the town square, a conjunction of about three rows of buildings that meet in what seems to be the geographical center of town, which appears to be a bit of a dip from the hills around it, that become mountains that overlook it.  There is a river that flows nearby, underneath stone bridges that have probably seen invading Vikings as well as English and French and maybe even Roman troops. (I'll need to read more about it)

But as for the Mad Carnival, it was a freakshow on crack! such beautiful crazy characters all around, in steampunk costumes and renfair jumpsuits, top hats and ribbons and bows and skirts and swords and pirate boots and all sorts of delicious insanity.  It reminded me so much of the Halloween Hayrides you and I used to go on in Middleton Falls.

Strange thing happened near sundown. we were walking past the hatchet throwing and the woman on the spinning wheel, and the Ring-the-Bell, and then suddenly this Flame Thrower guy spits fire directly at the Baron!  Must have been an accident, but I kid you not, it seemed like the guy actually turned and shot it directly in his direction.  I just saw these flames going all up and down his arm and it looked like it covered his torso and his face, and then the next second, the Baron is just patting the flames off his coat.  Just patting them out with his hand!  

And the flame thrower guy was all apologies and "beg yer pardon, suh!" and all that, and the Baron was superchill and just said, "Think nothing of it," and walked on, but I'm thinking, "He just got covered in FIRE!"  But we just walked on like nothing happened, except that the Baroness looked back once at the guy and seemed to mutter something under her breath, but I couldn't catch what it was.

And that wasn't the only thing.  Later on, there was this lady who came up to me while I was buying some legs of lamb for the family.  Had to keep asking her to repeat herself because she was speaking low and I couldn't really understand her accent, it was so thick, and finally, I could make out that she was asking me if I really was the butler for the family and I said that yes, I was.  And she said, "Mind yourself in that castle, strange happenings in that place, strange happenings, mind you." and it was the way she said it. "Strange happenings" - making the first word into two syllables and undulating the second word, it really just stuck in my brain, because in a second, she was gone, just as though she had been swallowed up by the crowd.

And when I got back to the rest with the Legs of Lamb, Essex takes one look and bellows out "THIS MEAT IS NOT AS TENDER AS MY MEAT!  THIS MEAT SHOULD BE BEATEN THE WAY I BEAT MY MEAT!" and so I figured the lady had probably heard him when he comes to the village to get supplies and stuff for the kitchen.  Essex, man, gotta love that guy!

But you know, now that I think of it, as we left that night, we walked back past the stall where the fire thrower was, and I didn't see him there, but there was a giant charred spot on the ground, right in the center, and that kinda looked a little strange to me.  Probably nothing, but I looked at the Baroness, Lara, and I saw her looking at the spot, too, and then she smiled, and then she turned those big brown eyes to me, and for a moment, I stopped.  Locked eyes with her, and she smiled, and then it seemed like time slowed down and her lips began to move, as though she was going to say something, 

and then, I don't remember what happened between that time and the time we got back to the house.  Weird.  

But maybe I'd just had a bit too much to drink.  But now, I've gotten all the stuff in from the cars, and everything is put away and I'm finishing up this email to you and then I'll have a few minutes of reading before bed, and tomorrow, I'll be at it again.

Still can't believe that I am a Butler in a Castle.  

Marj, Sis, please please PLEASE write back as soon as you can, let me know that you are still out there.

OK?

Love you!

Philippe








Thursday, October 13, 2022

Overheard at Booth 3: Email from a Castle in the Scottish Highlands

 EMAIL FROM A CASTLE IN THE SCOTTISH HIGHLANDS    


My dear Marjorie,
Marj,
Maj,
Vaj,
Yer Vajesty
 
and all those other names I used to call you when we were kids!
 
SIS!
My darling SISTER!  How the hell are you!
 
OK, I know it’s been a while.  A loooong while, and I have to confess that it’s been so long that I’ve lost your phone number.  Don’t even know how I remembered this email address but I hope you still check your email and that I remembered the address correctly (I’ll find out if it gets kicked back as “undeliverable”) – Also, I ditched my phone.  Weird story, I know, like “who does that?” but it was a small price to pay for this new gig I have as a butler in this most incredibly mind-blowingly beautiful castle! 

 



 It belongs to a Baron named Baron Necro Brandeis and his wife Lara.  Answered an ad on a site called wordsfrombehindthemask.com, a guy named PJ hooked me up with them.  A short phone interview and their only request was that I ditch my cell phone and live IN the castle and I was on the next plane to Scotland!

I have to admit, it was a bit weird at first.  Castles are definitely colder than you’d imagine, even with tapestries on the walls.  And I still have to get the hang of the bells in each room.  There’s a series of ringers throughout the castle, and depending on which room you’re in, depends on what bells chime.   That lets me know what room I need to go to in order to see who needs what.

The Baroness is a hoot!  Sometimes I’ll hear the bell and go to whatever room she’s in and she’ll just be lying there on the floor in some skirt and boots – different kind of boots each time, like riding boots, thigh-high boots, go-go boots, and she’ll say things like, “Oh will you help me up, darling!  I seem have fallen.  But first, take a photo and post it to my IG”  (the family are the only ones who have phones).  I know she’s just teasing …

 … and don’t worry Marj!  I’m a lot different now and I don’t get in trouble like I used to!  I learned my lesson from a valet gig I had at the Triple M (Montreal Murderbilia Museum) (but that’s a story for another time!)  Like I said, at 50, I’ve slowed down a bit in that department.  You’d be proud of me!

But not the cook!  Gotta tell you about Essex.  That’s his nickname.  He’s had his name legally changed to Sex Slave, but we all just call him “Essex” for short.  What a guy!  The other night, I was hungry so I went downstairs to make a sandwich, and he comes out and says, “THE SANDWICH WILL TASTE EVEN BETTER WITH MY PENIS IN YOUR MOUTH!” and I’m like “Dude, I only want a sandwich”

… Essex always talks in this HUGE BOMBSTIC voice, it’s hilarious. But he made the BEST sandwich!  Tuna, with little pimentos and this stuff that looked like cilantro. 

Tonight at dinner, he started off the first course with soup, cream of potato, and the Baron commented on the flavor, and Essex says, “YOU ARE SAVOURING THE FLAVOUR OF MY SEMEN!” and without missing a beat, the Baron says, “I can tell that you’re staying hydrated and are eating a lot of lentils.”

The family, they have a daughter and a son, but I don’t see them much around the house.  As far as the other staff, there’s Vasiliya, who likes to dress up as a French maid (even though I think she’s Finnish), and there’s the chauffeur/boatman/groundskeeper named Fionn. 

I’d like to tell you more about them, but I need to go make a list of things to buy from the village.  The Baron has invited all to go down tomorrow for something called the Mad Carnival.  Don’t know exactly what it is (I didn’t get to see much of the village when I came through to take this job two weeks ago), so I don’t know if we will stand out or fit right in.

Like I said, the semi-electricity stuff is weird.  As I said, only the family has phones, but I’ve got a laptop in my room to conduct business, and while there IS electricity here, the lights come on when Lara, the Baroness, speaks aloud one of her poems.  Yes … when she speaks in poems, stuff HAPPENS!

Like I said, so much to tell you, but I really have to make this list:  Essex wants a boatload of stuff from town, stuff like leeks, capers, and even though I’ve heard the term before, I need to find out exactly what the hell are “Ben Wa Balls” (can’t wait to Google THAT!) 😊

OK, Sis, again, I sure hope this is your email address and I hope you write back soon and I hope that everything is OK and that you haven’t buried your fourth husband under a pile of molten rock!  (You know I’m only half-kidding, right?) 😊

 
Until you write me,
Love,
Your little brother,
Philippe

Friday, October 7, 2022

Overheard at Booth 3: A Scene from This Year's Mad Carnival

#MadCarnival

Luis stepped around behind the white painted hot dog stand and found himself off the Midway, by the back wall of the pavilion.  Immediately, he was shocked by how dark and silent this place was.  Only two feet from the action and the hustlebustle, he crooked his neck and he could see the lights in the distance but it suddenly seemed miles away, not just a few footsteps.

A movement, a brushing of shadows, against the nearby wall drew his attention again.  "Anybody there?" he asked, even though he didn't know why he asked.

A form emerged from the shadow, and split at the top into two shadow forms, one shadow against the wall and the other turning to look at Luis to say, "Move along, kid, we're busy."

The other shadow giggled, "Why not let him watch?"

Luis saw then what he thought were two sets of eyes, from each of the forms, glow bright white, hot ... then turn red.  From somewhere far behind him, he heard the roaring screams of delight from the cars of the swift dip of the roller coaster.

The other shadow then leaned forward and sunk her fangs into the outstretched wrist. Blood sprayed in four directions in a spray and the shadow from opened his mouth to catch a few splatters of his own blood on his own tongue, which lapped at the air, forked and darting like a serpent.

Luis screamed.  He screamed like the roller coaster screams, rising and dipping and distant and present.  He turned and ran back toward the hot dog stand, the midway, the laughter and screams and the lights and other people's dreams.

The other shadow pressed the other again against the wall.  "Kids," he said.

"Gets 'em every time," she said.  Then she took his open-veined wrist and drew it to her hungry lips and they became one shadow again.



Thursday, October 6, 2022

Overheard at Table 2: Notes for This Year's Mad Carnival

 Matthew_NCC1701
@Matthew_DS9
·
Oct 4
#MadCarnival #MadVerse

Stop spinning.
Slow your breath.
Heart pound in your chest.
Take a moment
Reach out your hand
Touch the glass.
You've been here so long
with these
Tangible illusions of other you's.

Madhouse mirrors.

Which grotesque reflection
will escape to the Midway?
Matthew_NCC1701
@Matthew_DS9
·
23h
#MadCarnival #MadVerse #TheMidway
#inkslingers

Incipient Dreams
spawned by
Moonlit Madness

foretell the approach
of demonic gladness -

that must be why
every eye
I spy
passing by

glows red
like blood, shed
from the living
dead.
Matthew_NCC1701
@Matthew_DS9
·
8h
Something's coming.

You're just being paranoid.

No, it's been tracking us since Detroit.

Hunter?

Maybe, but it feels different. Angry.

Personal.

Yes.

I always told you to choose your food wisely.  Noone that has a family.  How safe are we here at #MadCarnival?

Not very.
Matthew_NCC1701
@Matthew_DS9
·
Oct 2
#MadVerse #MadCarnival

Lost in the midway
Headspin lights
Brights and tickets,
One shot one try!
Everyone's a winner!
Balloon darts never hit
And this stench of
Rancid hoydogcheese
and cottoncandy nightmares
and what's that screaming
from the Tilt-A-Whirl?
Matthew_NCC1701
@Matthew_DS9
·
8h
#MadCarnival

Step right up guys and dolls and falls of every spring summer and winter, you'll begin ter
see the light
just right, get tight
ly packed inside to
to see what Nature tries
to hide,
what you are about to see,
can't be un-seen but don't
scream, don't you
dare
screa-
Matthew_NCC1701
@Matthew_DS9
·
Oct 5
Midway at the #MadCarnival - a small booth sandwiched between the Petting Zoo and the Ring Toss.  Manned by a balding septuagenarian chewing on an old cigar, it's chock full of crates of old albums.  I pull one out trepidly, to find this cover of an old childhood nightmare:

Image 

 

 

 

Monday, October 28, 2019

Overread at the Counter: #MadCarnival Draft 1


MAD CARNIVAL


The Townfolk:

Sheriff Jerry Latham
Deputy Frankie Cook
The School teacher, Eliza Gray
Betsy Wilson - the missing girl
Billy Wilson - her brother
Mrs Wilsonher - mother
Mr Wilsonher  - father
Mayor Jacob Schiff
Farmer Talbot
Judge Roy Halbert
Florence Halbert (judge’s wife, secretary at the school)
Teen girls: Lucy Saunders and Margot Philpot



The Carnies:
Ringmaster -Deck of Cards - Sebastien
Ekate spryna – The Fortune Teller
Anais, The Fire Eater
The Pretzel Man
The Pretzel Woman
The Wolf Woman - Wulfina
The Fat Man
The Trapeze Triplets – Corinne, Coraline, Caroline
Shorty
Bull
Ox
The Laughing Jester – Hanz Freilich
The Juggler
Mad Mabel and the March Hare
Simone – the Elephant Tamer


Possible alternate names, since #MadCarnival is a hashtag and is used by other writeres
The Triple-M Circus
The Circus of Magic, Mirth, and Mystery
OR(Madness, Malice, and Mayhem)

TUESDAY

1.
Deputy Frankie
bursts through the station door, flyer in hand,
"Look! #MadCarnival is gonna be here Friday
Saturday
AND Sunday!"

"Well, shit."
Sherriff shoots chaw
into the spittoon.
"Nothing good
ever happens
when the circus
comes to town."


2.
Luddington, Iowa
1935

The field,
fallow in October,
an expanse of canvas
upon which we will paint
our
#MadCarnival.

Sebastien scans with panoramic eyes, then thumbs his pack of cards, and says, "OK, Ox and Bull, put the elephants by that tree line close to the creek."




3.
Florence Halbert puts a pie on the windowsill to cool,
as the #MadCarnival moves down the lane:
clattering carts
belching cars,
elephants blare.

But when she sees a dwarf upon
the shoulders of a bear-sized man
with ox-like horns, she

withdraws the pie
& slaps the window shut.



Florence Halbert puts a pie on the windowsill to cool. 
Then, she sees the #MadCarnival moving down the lane,
the carts, the cars, elephants even.

When she sees the dwarf atop the shoulders of a
mountain of a man with horns like an ox, she

takes the pie from the sill

and slaps the window closed.

Florence Halbert puts a pie on the windowsill to cool,
as the #MadCarnival moves down the lane:
clattering carts
belching cars,
elephants blare.


But when she sees a dwarf upon
the shoulders of a bear-sized man
with ox-like horns, she


withdraws the pie
& slaps the window shut.





4.
Hans grips the wheel as the car hits another rut in the country lane. 

"Don't grimace," says Sebastien, "You're the Laughing Jester, remember."

"I am just so BORED with these endless towns filled with Lutheran Luddites!" he says.

"Do not fret.  Soon we will camp for winter."

Image



Hans grips the wheel as the car hits another rut in the country lane. 

"Don't grimace," says Sebastien, "You're the Laughing Jester, remember."

"I am just so BORED with these endless towns filled with Lutheran Luddites!" he says.

"Do not fret.  Soon we will camp for winter."




5.

Tommy and Billy, throwing rocks at tin cans.

T: I hear #MadCarnival has a wolf woman.

B: D'ya think she'll have 6 teats or just the normal 2?

T: Billy, you ain't been right since school started up.

B: It's Betty Carson.  She filled out over the summer.

Rock.
Can.
Miss.



6.
Billy and Tommy stand in front of the sign advertising the Freak Show.

Billy: I don’t believe they really got a three-legged man

Tommy: Yeah.  He probably ran away.

Billy [dryly]: Haw, haw.

Image


Billy and Tommy stand in front of the sign advertising the Freak Show.

Billy: I don’t believe they really got a three-legged man

Tommy: Yeah.  He probably ran away.

Billy [dryly]: Haw, haw.


7.
In the back of the rocking wagon, Mad Mabel rubs March Hare’s aching wrist.
“Getting better” she asks.

“A little,” he says.

“Good,” she says.  You nearly clipped me in Burlington. Do that again and I’ll cut off your hand.”

“Yes dear.”

Image
Image




8.

Eliza, the schoolmarm, to Pastor Wortham about #MadCarnival:

"I've got nothing against circus geeks, but I'm just saying when the circus came through in Summer of '14, about half the girls in town spent winter and half of spring with family in Des Moines, if you catch my drift."


9.

Ox grunts.

Shorty: He thinks ladies shouldn't smoke.

Anais: I swallow flaming swords. I breathe fire. I am wildfire and a dragon and I will lick the tar out of any man who tries to tell me how to be a damn lady!

Ox grunts.

Shorty: He says he believes you.

#MadCarnival


WEDNESDAY

10.

The cars stop beside the open field.
Sebastien steps into the grass and turns to face the host of #MadCarnival.

Dipping low, arms outstretched, he slowly rises as he says these blessed words:

Ladies and Gentlemen!  Freaks and Geeks!
At this spot we shall once again make glorious magic!
Now, let the preparations begin!


The cars stop beside the open field.
Sebastien turns to face the host of #MadCarnival.

Dipping low, arms outstretched, he makes his usual blessing:

Ladies and Gentlemen, Freaks and Geeks, on
this spot we shall once again make glorious magic!
Now, let the preparations begin!







11. 

Hawk cries overhead.
Elephants trumpet a reply.
Mallets dumbeat drive posts into the dew-soft grass.
The ripple of unfolding heavy layers of canvas,
pushed upward by tent poles.
The murmurs sounds of ancient incantations.

The #MadCarnival prepares to be born.



12.

Sometimes we all must
taste a bit of madness
in order
to stay
sane

in an ever-maddening world
which tilts on its axis
and spins us wildly and

screaming
into the sullen

nothingness.



13.

Sebastien holds the Queen of Hearts
between two fingers,
flipping the card front to back.

"She who navigates love's
eccentricities," he says,
"is like the One who calms
raging seas."

"She's your queen, then?" Corinne asks.

"I'm the one holding HER," he smiles.





14.

Ekateryna’s hands smooth the surface
of the globe,
glowing pure white light,
eyes fixed on the nebulous
clouds that slither like whispers
from a dream.

“What do you see?” asks Bull.

“I see the last of a child’s cries,” she says.

“That’s nice.”

“No … no, it is not.”

Image





15.

Coraline dances half-mad in moonlight,
pirouette on the soft grass,
arms stretched wide to gather all stars,
while the orchestra that only she hears
echoes from her throat, and

Coraline spins, gathering the
wild abandonment of shadows,
open passion
of midnight.

Image


THURSDAY

16.

Tommy runs into the station, says "Sherriff!  You better get on over to Horace's General Store!  Those folks from the #MadCarnival are stirring up a ruckus!"

The Sherriff looks at his Deputy.  "See, Frankie?  I told you there's always trouble when the circus comes to town."


17.

The Showdown at Horace’s General Store

Years later, Tommy will recall this episode as “The Showdown at Horace’s General Store”

Sherriff Latham walks into Horace’s General Store to see two of the carnies standing in front of the counter, upon which are several sacks filled with groceries, and Horace, red-faced and puffing like a mad hen, a look that the Sherriff is all-too familiar with seeing, as Horace is well known around Luddington for being easily offended and even more easily angered.

The carnies, one man and one woman, on the other hand, are what the Sherriff would call, “unknown commodities,” and he approached them with the caution that he uses for all new situations, which is generally to consider them as unpredictable as a rabid Great Dane until he was assured otherwise.

He starts with his name.  “Good afternoon.  I’m Sherriff Latham, and this is my Deputy, Franklin Cook.  How can we be of assistance?”

“You can be of assistance, Sherriff, by having them go get me some REAL money?” Horace interjects.

“That IS real money, you foolish little man!” says the female.

“And what is your name, miss?” asks the Sherriff.

“Simone.  And this is Sebastien …”  she waves a hand in his direction, and Sebastien tips his hat.  Sebastien is smiling the smile of a man who is content to watch the penny theatre unfold before him.   Or, the Sherriff correctly assumes, Sebastien already knows better than to get in the way of Simone when she is angry, which is clear by the way her hands wave through the air as though her fingernails are rapiers in an fencing match.

“… and they are trying to pass off this phoney carny money!” Horace spits, apparently not understanding that he is almost to the point of receiving a high outside.

“It’s NOT phony carney money!” says Simone.  “It’s REAL currency of the United States of America!”

The bills are spread out on the counter in front of Horace, like cards dealt from a deck.   He holds one up and hands it to the Sherriff for inspection.    “Look at it!  It doesn’t look like a real dollar bill!  It’s says ‘ONE DOLLAR’ where it isn’t supposed to be, and the back is all wrong!”

“These are real bills,” says Sebastien.  “We got them in Philadelphia.”

“Oooh!” says Horace, mockingly.  “All the way from PhilaDELPHia!”

“Or Chicago,” Sebastien shrugs.

“Sherriff,” says Simone, “I don’t know why this son of a … hound with full paps is giving us the royal runaround, but we have good money, and we want to use that good money to buy these provisions for our company.”

“Excuse me, ma’am,” says Deputy Frankie, “but surely these can’t be the only bills you got.  Can’t you use any of your other bills?”

“It’s an hour back to where we are setting up the carnival … and then an hour back here … and then an hour back,” she says.   “We need to feed our carnies and help get the carnival set up.”

“I thought all you gypsy-types made your own food,” says Horace.

“All people occasionally like to eat something that hasn’t come straight out of the stew pot!” she snaps back.

“OK, OK,” says the Sherriff.  “Horace, why don’t we have Tommy here run over to the bank and ask Bill about whether these are real?”

“Bill’s spending the week with his wife and her folk over in Windsor County.”

The Sherriff pauses.  He looks around for the spittoon, which, for some reason, has been moved from its usual place.  When he finds it, he spits into it, and then says, “Here’s what I’ll do … I take your dollar bills that you got in Philadelphia or Chicago, and Horace, I’ll give you my five one-dollar bills that look like the dollar bills you’re used to seeing, and then these nice folks can take their provisions back to their crew so that the … show may go on.”

Sebastien grins.  “Good one, Sherriff!”

Horace sputters.  Then he fumes.  Then he says, “But!  They’re buying ALL my licorice!”

“Now you’re just being small, Horace,” says the Sherriff.

“And our biggest workers, they love licorice!” says Simone.

“But I won’t have any for the kids!” Horace says.  “Look at Tommy there!  He’s so sad that all the licorice will be gone.”

Suddenly all eyes turn on Tommy.  When recounting the story as an adult, he will say that it was the first time that adults had ever asked his opinion on anything, and he realized at that moment that there are times when a person must weigh their words carefully, because they can change the course of a situation.

“Well,” says Tommy, “I mean, if it will make the Carnival workers happy, and since they are here to put on a show for the whole town, I don’t mind waiting until you get more licorice next week.”

And thus the matter is settled.  The Sherriff takes the bills minted by the United States Treasury in 1935 and hands over bills from his own pocket.  Simone and Sebastien pick up the bags and make their way toward the door.

As Simone passes by Tommy, she says, “Thanks, kid.  You got a good heart.”  She hands him one long stick of black licorice.   Then she looks back at the Sherriff, “And you … I don’t know about you yet.  You might have a good heart.”

The Sherriff spits again into the spittoon.

Horace, as everyone sidles out of his store, looks down at the corpulousness of his girth, and then he squishes his puffy pectorals, and mumbles, “Hound with full paps?”



18.

Sebastien knows that,
as bodies are made of
sinews and spleen,
muscles and movement,
tissues and tears,
so too

is the #MadCarnival,
which feeds upon the smiles
and the cries, the
truths and the lies,
the growls and the sighs

of all those who
step
right
up
&
see
the
show!

Image


19.

Setting up the #MadCarnival:

March Hare dances knives around Mad Mabel.
Anais sets fire to her blades.
Ox, Bull, & Shorty test the sturdiness of the posts.
Jester walks the Fun House.
Simone brings a now-empty burlap bag back from the stream, stooping to wipe hands on the grass.


20.
#MadCarnival

Sometimes we all must
taste a bit of madness
in order
to stay
sane

in an ever-maddening world
which tilts on its axis
and spins us wildly and

screaming
into the sullen

nothingness.




FRIDAY

21.

Friday moring,
Luddington Iowa
October, 1935

Billy Wilson walks his little sister, Betsy, to school
All the way, she sings,

“We’re going to #MadCarnival!
Mad Carnival!
Mad Carnival!
We’re going to Mad Carnival!
Everybody say YAY!

… say ‘YAY’ Billy!”

“Yay,” says Billy, dryly.

[posted]

Friday morning
October, 1935

Billy Wilson walks his little sister, Betsy, to school.

She's been singing this for hours:

“We’re going to #MadCarnival!
Mad Carnival!
Mad Carnival!
We’re going to Mad Carnival!
Everybody say YAY!

… say ‘YAY’ Billy!”

“Yay,” says Billy, dryly.



22.

Friday Afternoon at the Police Station

October, 1935
Luddington, Iowa

Sheriff Jerry Latham
Deputy Frankie Cook


Frankie is reading last month's Dime Detective, while the Sheriff is reclined in his chair, which squeaks against the weight of his back.  His hat is pulled down over his eyes, but he is facing the front window, which looks out onto the street into the window of the barber shop on the other side.  The Sheriff assumes this pose so that he can rest his eyes, but can immediately open them should ever anyone step inside.

In his half-slumber on a quiet afternoon, he tries never to fold into a full sleep.  When he does sleep, he often dreams the sweet, spicy smell of horseradish.   Then, in the dream, the smell dissipates, and he is surrounded by the bodies of dead soldiers, his brothers, men he barely knew.

"What time we heading out to the Mad Carnival, Sheriff?" says Frankie.

"In about an hour or so," replies the Sheriff.  "Good to take a look around, make sure everything is on the up and up.  You know, sturdy and not going to fall down on anybody."

"Wow, Sheriff, I didn't know you were an expert on such things."

"I'm not.  They don't know that.  We'll just go out there and act like we do and from their reactions, we should be able to tell if THEY are experts on such things."

"You're pretty smart, did I ever tell you that?"

"On occasion, Frankie, yes you have."

Frankie puts down the Dime Detective and stands up and hikes up his belt higher around his waist.  Then, he walks toward the door and notices the schoolmarm, Eliza, headed toward the Church.

"School's out," he says, idly.

"We might want to get started then," says the Sheriff.  "The kids will be running over to the field to get first tickets into the circus."

"Do you think those Germans will come down?"

"You mean the folk from Lewiston?" asks the Sheriff.

"Yeah, do you think we'll have to worry about 'em?"

"What's to worry about?  The only person who ever has a problem with them is Farmer Talbot, and he's always half in the sauce and railing on about little green men from Mars!"

"Well," says Frankie, looking out the window as though expecting to see Eliza come back out of the church, "they're just strange folk, you know, they never really come down into town except about once a month or so, and they're just so ... well ... foreign."

"Frankie, their people been here since '94.  They are certainly not 'foreign'."

"You know what I mean, Sheriff, well, you fought the Krauts in the Great War, you more than anybody know what they're like."

"I know what Krauts are like and I know what the Dusseldorfs and the Niehauses over in Lewiston are like and neither group are alike in the slightest.  That's what I know."

"You're a good man, Sheriff."

"You don't have to say that, Frankie."

"I kind of think of you like a father, sometimes."


"Don't say that, son.  Half the time I don't even like talking to you all that much."

"See?" Frankie says, "You’re JUST like my father!”


23.

"Come one!
Come all!
Come as you are!
Whether 10 feet tall
2 feet small,
On foot or in a car!

Feast your sights
On our delights,
You're bound to have a ball!
A thousand lights
Through darkest nights
At the #MadCarnival!"




24.

And we all arrive
well before five
to look at the tents of the #MadCarnival

Triplets fold themselves into a human ball
and roll across the field,
as a woman lights a sword aflame
and swallows it whole as she
stands atop the shoulders of
the man with horns of an ox.

½


25.

“Such things as these and more
await you all!” shouts the
hatter with a deck of cards,

He holds up the Ace of Diamonds,
and says, “Who will be the lucky one
tonight?
Who will drink deeply of the sweet
delights
of the #MadCarnival?!”

2/2


26.

Tommy races down the lane.
He's emptied all his savings from his Nescafe tin & will spend it all at the #MadCarnival.

Crisp wind chaps his cheeks
and the touch of chill tells him that summer is
gone, and winter is coming, but this is autumn
& autumn is the time for

last gasps



27.

Even before the sun dips behind the hills,
the #MadCarnival sparks eerie lights:
a shock against the mad night,
the shooting stars are here on the ground, this
night, and lightning crawls through the underfoot
current

& the trees themselves are rattled
into stochatic laughter.

Image


28.

At the #MadCarnival ...

walking
laughing
dancing
eating
kissing
hiding
jumping
screaming
loving
drinking
learning
crying
dying
living,

we are pierced vellum through which shines
the twisted light of an arcane moon.

We are all shadows here.


29.

Mad Mabel and the March Hare take turns on the spinning wheel.
Sometimes she throws the knives
and sometimes he throws the knives. 

She keeps a rabbit’s foot on a short gold chain that she
sometimes shows to the children, saying,
“The only time I ever missed, I chopped off his big toe! 
This toe, right here!
You should have SEEN him, children.” 

Then, with an impish smile, she will tell them,
“You could say
he was
HOPPING
mad!”


30.

#MadCarnival
Hall of Chimera

Lucy Saunders and Margot Philpot
staring at babies in a bottle.

Lucy: Are those real babies?

Margot: Naw.  Those are just dolls.

Mad Mabel puts a hand
on their shoulders. 
Her breath, faint smell of absinthe:

“But are they
JUST
dolls?”

Image



31.

The flames dance across the blade
she spins the sword like a windmill
at her side,

the crowd amazed and sigh!
as she lifts high

and pulls the fire and steel
into her throat,

a gulp,

a gasp among the crowd.

The pastor's eyes
awide,
aflamed,
unabashed
unashamed

Image


32.

As Anise
dances for the crowd,
a dagger in each hand,
spreading
a skirt of rippled
fire, chattering

the pastor opens his
Bible, reads:

My beloved is mine,
and I am his:
he feedeth among the lilies.

He takes a pencil & writes
She can tame the Devil's tongue!


33.

A calliope.
A bruise.
A stolen kiss.
A walk.
A talk.
A swing and a miss.

Mad laughter from
a tilted wheel,
night slices like
a barber’s blade.

Slip a card from a
shaved deck,

a breath
a skin
the rise of the color
in the cheeks.

Sebastien
breathes
deeply
of
full house
&flush

[posted]

A calliope
A bruise
A stolen kiss
A walk
A talk
A swing and a miss

Mad laughter from
a tilted wheel,
night slices like
a barber’s blade.

Slip a card from a
shaved deck,

a breath
the rise of the color
in the cheeks.

Sebastien
breathes
deep
of
a full house
flush

Image





Image


34.

And a good night to all you denizens of the #MadCarnival

All you pixies
And trapeze swingers,
And freaks
And carnival geeks,
You mad hatters
And jesters
And barkers at the moon,

Lay down your weary heads
And sleep now and dream
Your mad, mad dreams,

Awake tomorrow
Refreshed




SATURDAY


35.

Bull awakes just before
The crisp light of dawn
Stretches, this
Is his favorite day: tents
Up, the geeks of #MadCarnival
still sleeping
Birds chirping across the quiet
Field.

After pulling water from the stream,
Bull lights a fire under the stewpot,
And begins peeling potatoes.


36.

SATURDAY AFTERNOON IN LUDDINGTON

**
Tree house, back yard, Billy Wilson’s

Tommy is reading the new Shadow magazine.
Billy, sorting marbles, says, “Sucks they wouldn’t let us in the Freak Show.”
Tommy says, “I got an idea.  Tonight we’re getting in.  We go around back
and crawl under the tent.”

Billy, “You think that’ll work?  What if they see us?”

Tommy, “We just move fast.  So much stuff is going on, nobody’ll notice us.”

Billy, “Do you think they really have a three-legged man?”

Tommy, “No … beCAUSE…”

Both, “HE RAN AWAY!!”

Tommy and Billy laugh together at their new shared joke, and then Billy admits, “Whenever I see Betty Carson, I feel like a three-legged man.”

Tommy looks up from the Shadow and says, “That’s gross, Billy.  But … yeah, I can kinda understand.”

Billy says, “So I guess that means summer’s really over then?”

Tommy, “Yes.  Summer’s over and done.  But we got the Mad Carnival for one more night tonight!”


**

Judge Halbert’s House, Back Yard

The Judge and his wife bringing their garden for the winter.
He, with spade at one end of the flower bed
She, on knees at the other, packing manure around the perennials.

She: You should come with me to the Mad Carnival tonight.

He: Aww, Florence, you know I don’t really go for all those lights and noise.

She: You could just come with me to talk to the Fortune Teller.

He: Tell me you didn’t.

She wipes her gloved hands on her pants.  She looks up at him:  Yes, why yes I did.

He smiles wanly: and what did she fill your head with?

Florence Halbert pushes herself up from the ground and walks the few steps to her husband kisses him on the cheek: She said I have an honorable man for a husband who will love me until the end of my days on this earth.  THAT’s what she filled my head with!  Now, do you want some tea?

The Judge leans on his shovel as he watches his wife walk up the wooden steps and through the screen door of the porch.

He: Well, I would say that Fortune Teller really CAN predict the future.

**

At the Church of Saint Philip the Evangelist

The Pastor sits in his office at the church.
Writing his sermon for tomorrow.
Or, trying to …

images of dancing flames, the
liquid frame, her shoulders,
her lips,
her hips,
her thighs,
lit by orange and yellow
light,

the fire in her eyes …

The Pastor feels a burning
in his lungs, he wonders if
this is how
brimstone
tastes,

down deep
in the deepest depths
where there is
the end of breath.

**

At the police station

Frankie is talking to his mother who has moved down to New Orleans, where she lives with her new husband.   He says, “… the Mad Carnival is in town.  Two nights.  It’s really wild.  They got a merry-go-round, and a lady who eats flaming swords, a juggler who juggles knives.  Tonight they are going to have a big show in the tent … elephants, trapeze artists, it’s going to be a great show … what?  … uh, no, they hardly ever come to town … no, they pretty much keep to themselves … well, for Catholics, they’re not all that bad, I mean, they’re GERMAN Catholics.  It’s not like they’re Irish, or worse: MEXICANS!”


**

At the Mad Carnival

Simone brushes one of the elephants, humming

But if this ditty is not so pretty
At least it'll tell you
How great you are.
You're the top!
You're the Coliseum.
You're the top!

“You’re the louver museum,” says Ekataryna, who had walked up behind without Simone noticing.

“Grab that other brush and help me get them ready for the show,” Simone says.

Ekataryna looks at the brush on the ground beside the bucket of water and picks it up, walking over to the front of the elephant.  She says, “Is this one Jules or Wells?”

Simone smiles, “You don’t know?  I thought you KNEW all and SEE all.”

The woman replies, “I do.  But I am just not good with names.”

“This one is Jules,” she says as she moves around toward the back, testing the leather strap of the blanket and saddle that is strapped to the grey torso of the creature.

Ekataryna looks into the elephant’s eyes and says, “You will do a very wonderful thing tonight.”

Simone, coming around the other side, hearing this, says, “Well, of course.  They are both going to be the stars of the show.”

“I mean after that.”

Simone puts the brush to her side and blows a waft of hair from her eye.  “You know I hate when you do that.  Just speak plain, woman.”

“I have said what I have said.  I will say no more.” 

“Well,” Simone says, “then brush more and say less.  Wells over there is lost for attention.”

Wells, upon hearing her name, tilts her head and lifts her trunk to let out one trumpet.   Then, she stomps her left foot on the ground, one time.

“Still thirsty, Wells?” Simone asks.  “OK, then, let’s go back to the stream.”


**

37.

Betsy wanders through the hall of mirrors,
in one, she is a teacup,
another, she is stretched wide like a washtub,
in another,

she is tall, like Mommy, with a
watermelon tummy, &

a hand then takes her arm,
& leads her deeper into the

trick light twisted glass.







38.

"Tommy Sneaks into the Freak Show Tent"

Tommy and Billy crawl underneath the heavy folds of the tent.  Tommy finds his way through before Billy, and lifts the material to find himself facing the back of a woman at a table upon which is propped a large mirror.  Tommy can see her see him in the reflection.

“Oh shit!” Tommy says, then realizes that Billy is gone.   Billy always knows the exact moment to run away, Tommy knows.

The girl turns around in her chair.  Parts of her face appear to be sewn together with scraps of leather and burlap.  The part of her face that is exposed is crimson, sinewed and raw meat as though her skin had been pulled from her skull.

Her one eye, electric, blue, holds Tommy in its gaze.  He has no words for it now, but years later he will  describe it as being like a bolt of lightning that lit up the night during an indigo thunderstorm.

The Patchwork Girl holds a finger to her lips, instructing Tommy not to shout, not to make a sound.


39.

Mrs Wilson runs, panicked, through the night,
through the calliope music and the lights,
looking for her lost daughter,

missing in the #MadCarnival.

Have you seen her?
Where is my daughter?!

There is a little girl lost.
Summer is gone.

Winter has come.



40.

They scour the grounds, the fields, the flaps of canvas, the undercarriage of the carousel,

they call her name into the obsidian night, they carry torches
and kerosene lamps, looking

for the lost girl,

who disappeared into
the shadows
of the #MadCarnival


41.

"The Search"

Sebastien tells the triplets to climb to the highest points: the top of the big tent, the apex of the carousel.  Look around, call out, see what you can see.

**

Ox wanders the perimeter, Shorty on his shoulders, lamp held high, calling out the little girl's name.

**

Ekataryna and Bull and Billy and Billy's dad scour the steps of the fun house mirrors, because Billy last saw Betsy there.

"Why didn't you watch your sister?!" says the dad.

"I thought you and mom were with her," Billy says.

"Does it LOOK LIKE we were with her, Billy?!"

Ekataryna touches his sleeve softly.  Her voice quivers as she says, "Mr Wilson, Betsy will be found.  Before the night is though ... she will no longer be lost."

"She'd better be, you old witch."  Then, he turns, slaps the mirrored wall and continues through the maze, calling out his little girl's name.

**

Farmer Talbot pounds on the door to the Sheriff's house.

"Betsy is missing from the Mad Carnival!"

"Shit Hellfire Damnation!" says the Sheriff.  He reaches for this belt and holster, hanging on a coat rack just beside the door.


**

The Sheriff drives wildly down the road back toward the Mad Carnival, Talbot says grimly, “You know I don’t think this is the work of them carnies.  I bet it was the Dusenbergs come down from Lewiston.”

“Talbot, you miserable son of a bitch!” says the Sheriff.  “We don’t have time for your shit right now!  I suggest you shut up or crawl back home.”

Talbot opens his mouth.  Then closes it.

He is silent the rest of the way.


**

The Mayor and his wife link arms with Mad Mabel and the March Hare, and with Lucy Saunders and Margaret Philpot, who link arms with the Pretzel Man and Pretzel Woman, who link arms with Eliza Gray and Hanz the Jester, and others too, and other too, as they walk the grounds of the Mad Carnival, from the entrance gate, step by step, looking under the folds of every tent, scanning the shadows for any place the child might be hiding.

Tommy, from the entrance of the Freak Show tent, with Wulfina and The Patchwork Girl standing behind him, watches the human chain walk slowly through the ripples of midnight, calling out.  He will recall, in years to come, when recounting this story to his wife, that this moment was the one moment in which he knew that the names "normal" and "freak" and "regular" and "different" were nothing but words formed with hollow, empty, wasted breath.



42.

By the waters of a babbling
stream,
she is laid down,

her feet dapple in the water
her hair mingles with the
roots of the trees,
planted by the water,

yielding this lifeless
fruit
in this dead season.



43

Two hours before dawn

Anise atop Wells
And Simone riding Jules,
The elephants scour the brush behind the
#MadCarnival,

digging through the grasses
and the rocks and the dirt,
tusks and trunks,
searching,

sweeping,
carefully searching,

stone by stone,
digging in the dirt.



44.

One hour before dawn:

Sebastien to the Sheriff: We will not rest until we find her.

Sheriff: You’re damn right you won’t.

From the line of trees, a trumpet blast scattered the night birds.
And all the people turn and run toward the source of the siren wail.


45.

Just after dawn, the deputy, holding a blanket-wrapped bundle in both arms, kicks at Dr Tompkins' door

A 5 minute eternity later, the old man opens the door.  His sleepy eyes widen ... then slowly redden. 

"Oh dear," he says, "What cause, Frankie?"

"Drowned."


46.

The Pastor walks from the #MadCarnival to the grey morning mist by the treeline. 
He kneels to pray, "Father, please bring your peace upon this child, & please bring justice, Father, I beg you."

Mrs Wilson staggers to him.
Then
falls at his feet,
wailing like a wounded animal.


47.

And by mid-morning, the crew of #MadCarnival & townfolk who had searched through the night, all are gathered in the big tent.

Sheriff proclaims, "No one leaves town until we know who killed Betsy Wilson."

Sebastien, "We're due in Nebraska by Wednesday."

"Nobody, goddamit!"


48.

Sunday Morning under the Big Tent

As Sunday grows into mid-morning, the Sheriff and the Judge had gathered inside all the denizens of the Mad Carnival, as well as all the townfolk of Luddington who had helped to search through the night.

Tommy and Billy sit on seats in the far back row, with a view of all the adults and the carnies down in the ring.  The Patchwork Girl sits beside Tommy, never speaking, but occasionally making a slight hissing sound of sucking saliva.   Tommy does not mind how clear liquid tends to ooze from her joints, the parts of her not covered by scraps of leather and gauze or fabric.

The Sheriff holds up his hands for the room to be quiet.  “Now listen here.  Nobody leaves town until we find out who killed Betsy Wilson.”

A murmur breaks out among the carnies, and Sebastien steps forward and says, “Sheriff, we have a compromise to be in Nebraska by Wednesday.”

“Nobody, leaves, town, goddammit,” says the Sheriff forcefully.

Bull, on the other side of the group yet still a head above them, says, “We need to start breaking down to get ready to move.”  Then he pauses.  “I really don’t see how the show can be stopped.”

“There are marshals on the way from Des Moines,” says the Sheriff.   “I’m going to need to know where each one of you was last night.   All night.  Right up to where the Wilsons noticed their daughter missing.”

Hanz says, “Most of us carnies were in here.  The freaks never leave their show.   The Fat Man never leaves the carousel.   We all have jobs here, Sheriff.”

“I don’t know,” says the Judge’s wife.  “You sure tend to look sideways at all the ladies.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” says The Laughing Juggler.

“Just an observation,” she replies.

“Could have been Ox,” says Anise.

“What?” says Shorty.

“Ox is new here,” Anise continues.  “We don’t know him all that well.  The only one who ever understands him is you.”

Ox grunts.

“He says you sound crazy,” Shorty says.

“See what I mean?” she replies.

Ox grunts.

“Now he wants to know where YOU were last night,” says Shorty.

“And how do you always have the words for him,” she asks.  “Where were YOU, Shorty?  YOU could have killed someone your height!”

Ox steps forward.

“Stop this!” shouts Sebastien.  “This is MADNESS, and it is NOT the madness of our carnival, but the madness that kills.”

“That’s exactly what we’re trying to find out,” says the judge.

“This is ridiculous!” says Mr Wilson.  “My daughter’s dead.  Who killed her?!  Which one of you sons of bitches KILLED MY DAUGHTER!”

“You did!”

There is a hush.

At the front flap of the tent, stands Mrs Wilson, the Pastor beside her, pointing at Mr Wilson.  She starts forward, one step, then another. “You killed our daughter!”

Mr Wilson sobs, “Mary … what in God’s name are you talking about?”

“Don’t use God’s name.  Not here.  Not in front of me.  Not anymore.  I heard you.  I HEARD you.  Night after night.  In the middle of the night.  You thought I was asleep.  You walked out of our room and you walked toward HER ROOM!”

Mr Wilson, quietly, “Mary, no … I didn’t kill her. I didn’t kill Betsy.  I love her.”

And there is something in the way that Mr Wilson says the last three words that Tommy will remember years later when recalling the events of these few days.  Something in the way that the words were said.  A way that he knew he would never in his life hear again.

The Pastor puts a hand on Mrs Wilson’s arm, as though to stop her, or to hold her upright.  He says to her in a steady tone.  “Mary Wilson … I think you have something you need to tell the Sheriff.”

Mary Wilson looks toward the Sheriff with wild reddened eyes and cheeks streaked with tears.  Her mouth for a moment hangs open as though in a perpetual silent scream.  She looks as though she is trying to speak while she is downing in the depths of the ocean.

Finally, her voice breaks and she says, “I – held – her – down.  She was – so … afraid.   I kept saying ‘hush Betsy, hush baby girl, the water will make you clean.  The water will make you clean’ and then, and then … she wasn’t afraid - any - more.”

Mary Wilson looks from one face to another, from the people she knows to the strangers, as though searching for some response in their blank stares.   “I had to … don’t you see?  I had to!”

And her eyes, searching
Searching …


49.

The freaks and geeks of
The #MadCarnival
Look on in silence
As the Sheriff leads
Mary Wilson
To the front of the big tent

And in a moment,
The two are gone,

Leaving only the silence

Heavy and
Palpable in
the air of
grim October.








MONDAY

50.

Monday morning rings in with a dour mist, enveloping the town of Luddington.  
The Sheriff drives alone out to the field where the Mad Carnival is almost completely torn down, packed up, and ready to roll on down the road.

The Sheriff walked past the crew of the Mad Carnival without saying a word.  Neither do they speak to him.   The morning dew wets his shoes and clings to the cuffs of his pants.

He comes upon Simone, who is putting harnesses on the faces of the elephants as their breaths puff thick clouds of smoke into the still morning air.

When she sees him, she says, “Good morning, Sheriff.  Should I ask if there is another crime you want to try to blame us for?”

The Sheriff stops a few feet away from her and crocks his thumbs in his belt.   He says, “Just wanted to tell you before you left … I heard you didn’t stop until Betsy was found.  You were searching for her the hardest of them all.  I just wanted to thank you.  That was much appreciated.”

Simone smiles, “Why Sherriff, I do believe that you have taken a shine to me.”

The Sheriff spits on the ground, “All I know is that the circus came to down and now a girl is dead.”

Simone stops fitting the harness.  She turns to face the Sheriff fully.  She says with a level tone, “ Well, if what her mother said is true, Sheriff, then if the Mad Carnival hadn’t come to town, she’d still be suffering.  Living a living hell.”   She takes one step toward him.  “We can all wonder what kind of unloving God is watching over us, but if you look at it from her point of view, her suffering is over.”

The Sheriff is silent for awhile, then says, “Take care of those animals, miss.  And take care of yourself.”

Simone smiles, “Always, Sheriff.  Always.   Because the show must go on.”


*

Just outside Lewiston, Iowa, Franz Dusenberg is walking the back 40 acres of his farm, looking to see where he might need to mend his fence before the winter sets in hard and truly.

He knows what it is even before he can tell who it is.
Franz Dusenberg is the one who first comes upon Bill Wilson’s body, hanging from the limb of a tree.

Coming closer, he notes how the face, how it looks somehow pained, even in the stillness of death.

Leaving it there, he turns to walk back to the farmhouse, where he will send his sons to ride into Luddington.


**

Monday afternoon.

After school, Tommy goes to Billy Wilson’s house.  Billy hadn’t been at school, but no one had asked about him.  No one, not even Eliza the schoolmarm seemed like they were wanting to talk about the last few days at all. 

When Tommy gets there, he knocks on the door, but no one comes.  The door is unlocked.  He opened it and calls through the house.  No answer

Tommy then goes around the side of the house, past the back yard, toward the trees and their treehouse.  He climbs up inside, where he finds a note stuck inside the latest issue of Dime Detective.

The note reads:

TOMMY,

THANKS FOR BEING MY BEST FRIEND.
I’VE RUN AWAY WITH MAD CARNIVAL

SIGNED,
THE THREE-LEGGED MAN



[end]


















Character study

In the #MadCarnival
The Patchwork Girl
never speaks.

No one asks her why.

If they did, she would
tell them (by writing it down)
that she carries the pain

of all the scarred
children in the world,

and if she were to speak,
she would never stop screaming.

She says
hush
hush



Soundtrack

#MadCarnival may need a soundtrack,
songs that make you slip sideways in a slick rain,
songs that reaches around from behind you with
heavy leaden arms to whisper dark secrets of all the ghosts
who play in the shadows of your mind.