In the middle of a Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey show on July 6, 1944, the band began playing "Stars and Stripes Forever," known to the circus performers as the Disaster March. Quickly the aerialists came down from the high wire and the big cats were ushered out of their performance cage. The side of the big top had caught fire and to this jaunty tune, the spectators panicked. Within ten minutes the entire big top had burned to the ground, killing 168 and injuring over 700 – all spectators. Police believed the fire to be arson. The Hartford Circus Fire is the most well-known circus disaster in history.

Spending the night with Mitch was nothing like spending an hour or two with Freddy. Mitch simply held her until she stopped crying and fell asleep in his arms. At first, with his hand on her stomach, she had worried that it would travel up. Instead, it had traveled around her waist to the small of her back, and there it had stayed. He didn't try to make out with her, or in any other way capitalize on her pain. She woke up feeling relaxed and safe.

Still, a part of her worried about what everyone else would think. Would they sneer at her because she had spent the night with him – even though nothing had happened?

Apparently not. Charly grabbed her shortly after the train stopped and the great unpacking began. "Soooo," she said. "Spill the beans. What happened last night?"

"You're not mad at me?" Lana asked, surprised.

Charly waved a hand. "Sorry I freaked out. It wasn't your fault. I mean, I'm the one who's been dead fifty years."

"I should have been more sensitive," Lana said.

"You're new, and you're curious. Nothing to fault there. I never bothered to think about it, that was my problem. I just bopped along... and once I realized how long I'd been here, I took a good look at everyone else. And some of them have been here a real long time, let me tell you. I didn't ask them, I didn't want to freak them out," Charly assured her. "Just really look at people. Like Pepe, the clown? Clowns in my day didn't dress like that. Or the bearded lady, the way she wears those ball gowns. That's from way long ago."

"Felix has been here since eighteen sixty-seven," Lana said.

Charly clapped a hand over her mouth. "Felix? Really? Wow. Oh, wow. I never would have guessed. Well, anyway, I'm over it. And I want to know the scoop on you and Mitch!"

"Nothing happened," Lana said.

"Come on. Nothing?" Lana shook her head. "Oh, girly. You gotta get your fun when you can."

"Huh?"

"Oh, yeah, back in my day girls weren't supposed to do that either until you were married. Of course, men could do whatever they wanted, right? How is that fair? In the circus we don't exactly stick to religious traditions. And this circus in particular is even less strict on that taboo stuff. I mean, we can't exactly get married, now can we?"

Lana thought about that for a moment. "I guess not."

"So, go for it! Mitch is super nice. I mean, he used to be with Bettina, but like I said, they never got married, did they?"

"But that means... even if we wanted to get married, we couldn't," Lana said.

"No... who wants a ball and chain, anyways?"

"I mean..." Lana tried to clarify in her own mind what was bothering her. "He might say he'd love me forever, but if we don't get married, there's nothing stopping him from tomorrow saying something different."

"Look, maybe what you and Mitch have going on is super serious. I'm more of a good time girl myself. I don't like commitment. I like having a night of fun with a handsome man. It gets boring otherwise."

"I suppose."

"You suppose! Girly, you gotta jump on that man and ride him for as long as you can. Nothing and no one is stopping you. Unless..."

Lana raised her eyebrows.

"Unless you got the hots for someone else?"

"No," Lana said. "It's just Mitch."

"You sure? Cause I heard a rumor..."

Lana's heart sank. She supposed purgatory wasn't immune to the rumor mill.

"...About you and Jack!" Charly crowed.

"Gross!" Lana said. "He's, like, twelve!" They collapsed in laughter.

"Ahem."

They looked and immediately sobered at the sight of Bettina's prissy pursed lips.

"There is work to be done," Bettina said, hands on her hips.

"Yes, ma'am," Charly said, saluting, then winked at Lana before running off.

Lana wiped the tears from her eyes and headed back into the stall car. She led the horses out and tethered them in a patch of lush grass, then got to work shoveling the muck out of the train car. Mitch rejoined her eventually, once the heavy work of erecting the tent was done. The bandana knotted around his neck was soaked in sweat and his shirt sleeves were rolled up to reveal his glistening thick forearms. He had two cold bottles of beer in his hand, and after popping the top of one, he offered it to Lana.

"Oh, I'm not old enough to drink," Lana said automatically. After a moment she said, "And neither are you."

Mitch laughed. "None of that matters here."

She accepted the bottle and sucked down a bitter yet refreshing mouthful, then leaned on her shovel and stared at him. She wanted nothing more than to grab him and kiss him.

He watched her, his eyes dancing.

She wasn't thinking, she realized. Here she didn't have to worry about what people might say about a girl who threw herself at a guy. Here she could do what she pleased. She remembered Charly's words, and set her beer down on the windowsill. Then she let go of the shovel.

It fell to the floor with a clatter.

She ran to Mitch and jumped up, wrapped her legs around his lean torso. He pulled her close, roughly and urgently. Their lips mashed together and she could taste his sweat salty on her tongue. He moved backwards then swung around, carried her into the portioned off area where his bed was.

God, it felt good when he tore off her shirt. It clung to her own sweat and he peeled it away. She fumbled with his buttons, then found she also had to contend with a stained white undershirt. He obligingly lifted his arms so she could pull it over his head. She fell back and threw the shirt on the floor. Then the belt buckle, more buttons and zippers, shimmying out of clothes that had suddenly become too tight and restricting, kicking off boots and peeling off socks. She wanted to see him, all of him, and only too late remembered the giant bandage on her belly.

She stopped suddenly in a kneeling position, and put a hand over the bandage. Suddenly self-conscious.

Mitch sat up, now relieved of his pants, and put his hands on her wrists. Gently he pulled her hand away and pushed her down onto her back. He kissed her, and she felt his fingers finding the edge of the bandage. His fingernail scraped slightly. The tape pulled at her skin. She winced, expecting pain, but felt none. He pulled it fully away.

Then he looked at it.

She stared at the ceiling, hoping he wouldn't find her totally disgusting now.

"You are beautiful," he whispered in her ear, and nibbled her soft earlobe.

She sighed. Her entire body relaxed. She looked up at Mitch and grabbed him by the neck to pull him closer. He was still wearing that bandana.

Once again he pulled her wrist away. Then he reached up and started to undo the knot in the handkerchief.

She knew this was important. Reaching over, she placed her hand on his waist, and waited until the handkerchief fell away.

Mitch's neck was marred by a deep purple line that wrapped all the way around. The purple faded out into an angry red.

Lana stared at it in horror. Had he killed himself? She looked up at him with big eyes. She did not look away as she leaned forward, only breaking eye contact so that she could kiss his throat. He exhaled so deeply it became a moan, then a sob.

She held him to her, and stroked that purple mark until he stopped shaking.

Finally he kissed her shoulder, and slid one finger into the waistband of her underwear. Her mouth smiled again his shoulder. She plunged her own hands inside of his cotton undershorts and grinned up at him.

"So... where does the audience come from?"

Mitch unclipped Snowflake's lead. "Huh?"

"The audience." Lana shaded her eyes from the sun and looked out at the people milling around the fairway, playing games and buying food and clapping at the performers. "Are they dead too?"

"I don't know. I never really thought about it."

"Really?"

"Nope."

"It never occurred to you to wonder in all your years here?"

"Nope."

Lana looked back at the people. Families. Moms, dads, little kids with balloons giggling at clowns. Suddenly, she had to know.

"Where are you going?" she heard Mitch say behind her. She ignored him.

She walked right up to a little girl eating an ice cream and watching Jack walk on his hands. She grabbed the little girl's arm and whirled her around.

"Hey!" the girl squealed. "My ice cream!"

The ice cream was a melting lump on the ground, but Lana had her answer.

The girl's face was covered in burns. Her mother, who rushed up to shoo Lana away from her daughter, was also covered in burns.

They were all dead.