They wandered the fairway, holding hands and sneaking sugary kisses, until the sun began to set and the shadows grew long. The crowd swelled, then dwindled as they found seats under the big top, and the calls of the barkers faded into the marching band. Lana felt far away from it all. She had Mitch.

She didn't ask him needless questions. She felt she could see into his soul, could see that he was a kind, honest man. Only briefly she wondered what he saw in her, the words "spoiled goods" running through her head. But when he kissed her she forgot all that.

Suddenly, the music crescendoed in the big top and people began screaming. Lana pulled from Mitch, startled, and looked around for any clues. "What's happening?" she asked, panicking.

"Nothing to worry about," he said, pulling her back to him. "It happens every night. All part of the show."

"Oh, right," Lana said, feeling stupid. "Circus of the Damned. Got it."

Bettina emerged from one of the flaps. "There you are!" she exclaimed, and stopped dead with her hands on her hips. "Well, aren't you two the lovebirds," she snapped. "Think one of you might give me a hand with the damn horses?" Her pretty red mouth twisted into a sarcastic sneer, then she spun on one gold slipper and stalked away.

Lana and Mitch exchanged glances and followed after her. "Is she always so bitchy?" Lana asked.

Mitch laughed. "You get used to her. She's just a bit high maintenance, is all."

They found Bettina snatching the reins of the six white horses from a grumpy-looking midget who looked like a hobo – or maybe that was just his clown costume, for his face was made up into a huge frown under his red nose.

"Thank you, Tom," Bettina said, giving Mitch and Lana the stink eye.

Tom shrugged and ducked back into the tent.

At first Bettina helped them remove the harnesses, then, seeing how Lana and Mitch were still mooning over each other, she rolled her eyes and said she had to ride one of the elephants in the finale spectacle and dashed off.

Lana and Mitch might have continued their love fest all night if Jack hadn't appeared just as they had finished getting the horses put away. "Rooney's called a meeting after the show," he said, and dashed off to tell others.

"Rooney seems to like making announcements," Lana observed.

"Not usually," Mitch said. "Usually he's calling someone out for punishment."

"What kinds of things would people get punished for?" Lana asked.

Mitch shrugged. "I'm hoping that's not what this meeting is for."

From Mitch's tone, Lana wondered how horrific the punishments were, and how minor the infractions that caused them. She thought about what she'd accidentally done to Bettina yesterday and wondered if that might be cause for Rooney to single her out.

Instead of the mess tent, everyone met in the deserted big top. Lights still blazed, revealing spilled boxes of popcorn and discarded cotton candy cones, spilled drinks and other bits of trash.

Rooney stood in the center ring, tall and commanding with a huge spotlight on him. Without the band playing, or the flurry of performers, or the commotion of the audience, the effect was eerie and a little bit chilling. Rigging dangled like spider webs from high above.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Rooney boomed expansively. "Today we have lost one of our own."

Several members of the crowd nodded knowingly. Lana looked at Mitch questioningly, but he said nothing.

"Mae was one of our girls on Spanish Web, and rode Mary the elephant in the parade. In her absence, we will need a new girl to replace her."

"Did she die?" Lana whispered to Mitch.

He shook his head, but said nothing further.

"Who do we have here who would like to rise to new heights?" Rooney asked. The spotlight swung into the small audience and wheeled around. "Which girl would like to rise up and fly?"

Lana looked around her. A girl in a black leather costume made her way down to the center ring. There was something wrong with her head. It wobbled uncontrollably atop her neck.

"Go on," Mitch hissed.

"What? I can't. I don't know how to do this... Spanish Web thing."

"It's easy," Mitch said. "All you do is hang on. Go. Chances like this don't come along every day."

"But I was going to be a trick rider—"

"Go!"

This time Mitch practically shoved her, and Lana stumbled past the people beside her and made her way down to the ring, followed by a few other stragglers, including one of the belly dancers from earlier and Tigra, the snake handler.

Rooney took one look at the floppy headed girl and shook his head. "Jenny, come on now. How will that look?"

"I can do this," she said fiercely, so fiercely her head flopped backwards on her neck. She yanked her hair and lifted it upright.

"And I'll need four strapping lads to spin," Rooney called. Several stepped forward. Mitch hopped between benches to be the one standing beside Lana. He winked at her, and she smiled.

"Ropes!" Rooney ordered, and four ropes dropped from above by some device Lana couldn't see up in the dark peaks of the tent.

"And away you climb!"

Lana stared at the rope dumbly. "I could never do this in gym class," she said.

Mitch grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face the belly dancer, who shimmied easily up the rope. "See how she twists it around her leg for better friction? Then you step on it, and lift your legs and step on it again," he explained in a low voice. "Now go!"

He straightened suddenly, and Lana just knew that Rooney was behind them.

"Need some help, first of May?" Rooney asked.

"My name is Lana," she said with a lifted chin, and wrapped her leg around the rope and stepped up. Amazingly it felt secure, but she did not allow surprise to register on her face. Only determination as she lifted her legs and stood again and again, that little loop at the top of the rope her target.

Finally she reached it and glanced over at Tigra, who was just now reaching the top, bosom heaving in her corset. Tigra put her hand through the loop then held on to the top, and with the other hand grasped the rope. Then the snake handler unwound the rope from her leg and hung there, her body in a rigid line.

Lana imitated her stance. The belly dancer on her other side was ready to go, as well. Only Jenny had difficulty, since her head kept flopping over. Still, the girl was tenacious and made it to the top and got in position.

"And away they go!" Rooney called.

Below her, Mitch looked up and Lana nodded. With great swoops of his upper body, he began spinning the rope. The world around her started to blur. She couldn't make out what any of the girls on either side of her were doing, so she just hung straight.

Rooney's voice rose up into the high air of the tent. "Who has the strength to hold on? Who will be the first to fall?"

Lana felt a stab of panic at that. Were they supposed to hang on until they fell? The ground was dizzingly far below her at this point. She gripped tightly.

The centrifugal force at the point had lifted her body nearly horizontal to the ground. She held herself tight and found it was not so difficult.

The crowd went, "Ooooh," and Lana heard a thump. She tried to glance down between spins, and saw Jenny on the ground. Her spinner reached over and pulled her head on straight.

"Better luck next time, Jenny," Rooney shouted, sounding not in the least consolatory. "For now you're still the knife thrower's assistant. Perhaps we'll have an opening for a contortionist next!"

The crowd tittered. Lana felt bad for Jenny. She sure wouldn't want to be the target for a knife thrower for very long. Shoveling manure was a better, safer job than that.

The spinning seemed interminable. Lana had no idea how long she'd been spinning. One minute? Five? Her hands were beginning to feel a bit of ache.

A yawn boomed up from beneath. "This is getting boring," Rooney called. "Who wants to see some tricks?"

The crowd cheered.

"Show us your best!" Rooney shouted.

Lana had no idea what sort of tricks could be done hanging from a rope. She thought about her trick riding, and the shoulder stand she sometimes did where she crooked both legs in a double stag position, essentially doing a split with bent legs. She lifted her legs and held them out this way. She had no idea what her competition was doing, but the crowd cheered either for her or for them.

"Tricks!" Rooney called.

Lana struggled to think of what to do next. She swung her feet, piking until the tops of her feet hit the rope, then arched into it backward until her head nearly touched her toes. Pressing the tops of her feet to the rope, she was able to hold this position, though it seemed the force of the spin was causing her grip to slip.

Here she was able to see what the others were doing. Tigra was attempting to haul one leg up to the loop, and doing this caused her to slip. She didn't fall to the ground but rather caught herself further down on the rope. Her spinner slowed and Tigra made her way to the ground, nasty burns on her hands.

"And another one bites the dust," Rooney scoffed.

It was just Lana and the belly dancer now. Lana saw that the belly dancer had taken one hand off the rope – the one not in the loop – and was spinning as she was spun. Lana gritted her teeth, hoping the grip in her hand would hold out, and released her other hand too. After that it was easy to start spinning.

"Tricks! Tricks!" Rooney chanted.

The insane ringmaster clearly wanted them to do something else. Lana fumbled back for the rope. The belly dancer smirked as she cleanly made the catch and brought one leg forward to wrap in the swinging slack of the rope, then she caught the other foot and brought it out into a full split.

Lana did the same.

"Tricks! Tricks! Tricks!" Now the whole crowd was chanting.

Her grip was failing; her hand felt rubbed raw by the rope. She left her leg still in the rope and swung the other up, hoping to do what Tigra had failed to do: catch that foot in the loop.

On first try she missed, and she feared she would slip. The belly dancer had taken her leg out and gone back to swinging with her legs slightly bent. Lana kicked up again and her foot found the loop. She shoved it through, scraping her hand, then let go with her hand. Ah, the sweet relief! She hung there, nearly in a split upside down.

The belly dancer saw and tried to copy her, but before she could, and before Rooney could call out for more tricks, Lana unwrapped her other leg and now she was flying out, held up only by her flexed foot, pulling her leg up by her head. She grinned at the audience. Lucky she'd practiced splits wearing jeans for her horse tricks.

The belly dancer knew she'd been beat. She missed getting her foot into the loop again and again, and eventually she wrapped her legs around the rope and let go.

"We have a winner!" Rooney called over some cheers and a smattering of boos.

The spotlight on her suddenly disappeared, taking with it heat and leaving her feeling cold and alone. Mitch had already slowed down his spinning, and she was able to get herself out of her contorted state and climb down without much problem.

"One more gets the chance to perform, to ascend!" Rooney went on. "Next time, it could be you!" More boos now. Rooney's low, demonic laughter filled the air.

When she finally dropped to the ground on wobbly legs, Mitch hugged her close. The crowd had already begun to shuffle off.

"Next time, break a leg," the belly dancer said sarcastically, shoving past.

Lana heard utterances from the departing crowd. "She's new," one girl said. "She just got here. She doesn't deserve it!"

More than anything, Lana received dirty looks.

"I guess this won't make me very popular," Lana said.

"You'll be great," Mitch said, his breath hot in her hair. "You're going to fly."

---

I wouldn't say climbing a rope is as easy as this, but it's a lot easier than I thought it would be when I first started aerials.