"You ought to stay here," Jack said, leaning over her inert form. "It's not safe for you out there."

Lana looked up, took in Jack's cataract-filled eyes and the makeup that seemed to be crusting off his face, and the bright sun blazing overhead. She blinked. Had she been unconscious this whole time?

"Come on." Jack offered his hand, and Lana took it. Getting to her feet wasn't as horrifically painful as she'd thought it would be. The pain from last night had disappeared. Maybe she had torn out a stitch or something from all that running. "Let's head to some friendlier territory."

Lana brushed off her pants and looked down at her stomach.

"My shirt is ruined," Lana said, wiping the tears from her face. "Again."

"We'll fix that. Come on. I'm taking you someplace where you won't feel like a complete freak."

He led her to a tent much smaller than the big top, with colorful banners hanging all along the side.

"Ha ha, very funny," Lana said, reading the sign over the entrance.

"Don't believe everything you read," Jack said.

Inside the freak show tent, Lana was assaulted with a peculiar stench. She wrinkled her nose.

"Don't mind that, neither. It's partly the mermaid tank. And partly the fat lady, she stinks somethin' awful. And the wolf boy." Jack shrugged. "You get used to it. It's no worse than the elephants."

"That's what you think," Lana said, breathing through her mouth. Then, "You got a live mermaid?"

"Come on and see her." Jack dragged her along, past the wolf boy in his cage, who lunged at her. ("Calm down, Fido, she's no rube," Jack told him). The tent was portioned off into smaller cubbies, separated from the public by ropes. Most of the displays were empty, and Lana read the signs: "The Elastic Man" – "The Human Skeleton" – "The Pinheads" – "Marty, the Armless Wonder!"

"Here we are. I introduce to you Marina, the Siren of the Sea!" He flourished his arm. "Otherwise known at Mirka Markowitz from western Massachusetts."

The tank was the size of a king-sized bed, and the water was murky and green. A woman floated on her back, her bikini top overflowing and her lower body hidden by the water. Her long, red hair flowed behind her, and she combed through it with her fingers, oblivious to her audience. Her face was puffy and bloated and an off shade of blue. Lana figured it must be the reflection of the water, or maybe the aftereffects of some kind of blue dye to make the water look more like sea water.

"I can't even see her tail," Lana said, a hand on her hip. "There's no such things are mermaids, anyway."

"Of course not," Jack said. "She's got a fake tail." He reached in and splashed in the pool. "Hey, show us your tail."

Marina the Siren of the Sea slowly moved her head into the direction of the splashing, like she didn't think it worth her time. She eyed the two, then gave a half-hearted splash of her lower half. Lana briefly saw a green appendage that was clearly some kind of body stocking.

"You happy now?" Marina said, and turned her eyes back to the ceiling.

Jack led her away. Lana was continually amazed at how easily Jack moved along. No hesitation. It appeared as though he had been blind from birth, even when he had told her different.

"This here's our snake charmer," Jack said, stopping beside a robust woman in black leggings, boots, and a purple brocade corset. Her long brown hair escaped from a black bandanna tied around her head, pirate style, as she poked about inside a basket with a long stick, incurring a medley of hisses. "Her name's Tigra."

"Jack, you know you ain't supposed to bring the townies back here between shows," said Tigra. The woman looked up and took in Lana's appearance, then said, "A new girl."

"Yep." The boy sounded proud to have discovered Lana.

"We ain't had a new girl in a long while," Tigra said. She took the stick out of the basket and dug the hooked end into the ground, leaned on it. "They say circus is dying. Where you come from, girl? What show? Is the Hagenback-Wallace still rolling around?"

"Never heard of it," Lana said.

"We got a good number from that show," Tigra reminisced. She scratched her neck, where Lana observed a swelled spot where it appeared one of the snakes had gotten its revenge. "Second to Ringling Brothers in its day, back when I was part of it."

"Ringling Brothers – I've heard of them," Lana said. "They had a special on the television."

"Television? What's that?" Tiger said.

"Time to go," Jack interrupted, and pulled Lana along. "Feelin' any less freaky now?"

"Uh, sure," Lana said. "I don't see much freaky about those two, anyhow. Anybody could charm snakes or float in a pool. It ain't like they're real freaks, like that wolf boy. Is he a real werewolf?"

"Nah, just real hairy. Here, I'll show you a real freak. Or should I say, a couple of real freaks."

A hall of mirrors separated this part of the freak tent from the next.

"We heard that," called two voices simultaneously.

Lana saw the sign before she saw the people who had called out. "Clare and Rowena, Siamese Twins."

"Joined at the hip," said the girl on the left. "It ain't that strange."

Jack laughed. "Course it is!"

Surprisingly, Lana did feel less gloomy after leaving the freak tent than she had walking in. It seemed to be a power of this place, to distract her from all of her troubles at home. With Jack, at least, she even felt a part of things, but she wasn't entirely sure that would last once she went back to help with the horses.

"You can't get to talking too much with those folk," Jack explained as they walked past the popcorn and cotton candy stalls. "They're most of them old."

"I thought they outlawed freak shows anyhow," Lana said. "It's mean to stare at disabled people."

Jack hooted. "You think them lot's disabled, them out there? They're much happier here, making their own money, than sittin' up in a hospital with people feelin' sorry for them."

She'd never heard anyone put it like that. It made sense, more than her mother's take on not staring at people "less fortunate."

"You'd best get to work," Jack said finally. Lana realized they were back by the horses, and she sighed. "It ain't that bad, once you dig in."

"Sure," Lana said.

Jack wandered off, and she headed toward the open train car and up the ramp. A quick look around told her Bettina wasn't in the vicinity. She found a shovel and settled into work mucking out the stalls. Even with the open barred windows in the train car, the flies were thick, and several times Lana thought she might be scraping something other than shit out. Looked like meat for the lions, and smelled foul.

It wasn't long before the wheelbarrow was full and she rolled it down the ramp and over to the muck heap. Two more trips and she was nearly done.

She was feeling proud of herself when a shadow darkened the opening of the stall she was working on.

"Looks like I'm not needed."

Lana squinted at the figure, noting the man's lean waist and rolled shirtsleeves. "You must be Mitch." She smiled at having remembered his name. Finally, someone she didn't need to be introduced to.

"And you must be Lana. The new girl." Mitch stepped forward and extended a hand.

Lana pulled off her work glove and shook it. His hand squeezed and held on a second longer than Lana expected.

"You got a nice smile there, Lana."

She blushed. "Thanks. I had braces up until last year."

He gave her a bemused smile and settled his shoulder into the door frame. "So, you're the one plotting to overthrow Bettina, then."

She nearly dropped the shovel. "Oh, no. No, I would never – I mean, what happened last night was an accident, I wasn't trying to hurt her or anything. Honest."

"Come on, now. They said you're a trick rider. Don't you want your own act?"

"I've only done a few rodeos. It's no big deal." She was still blushing. "Gosh, word travels fast around here."

"It's a small world, this circus. And you wouldn't be here if you weren't something special."

Was it possible that she could blush any deeper? She was thankful of the dim lighting here in the train car. Mitch's face was still in shadows, too. How could she be sure he was for real or bullshitting her? Freddy spewed lots of compliments too, and she had believed every one, never knowing that all along he was telling Tansy all the same things.

For all she knew, Mitch had a face made up like Rooney's, or maybe he even looked like one of them down at the freak tent.

"How's about I get a horse ready, and you show me what you can do," Mitch said, and left before she could say no.

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A bit of a shorter chapter this week! I'm getting my groove in Nanowrimo, not sure if I'll post my WIP. Are any of you doing Nano this year?