Charly grabbed Lana as she and Mitch were leaving the tent. "Nice job, girly," she said. "Come on, I'm taking you to meet the other kinkers."

Lana looked at Mitch, hoping he might have some reason to keep her. She wanted to stay with him forever, and without her parents around, she could actually get that wish.

But Mitch just shrugged and let go of Lana's hands, and Lana was whisked away just like that.

"You're gonna love everyone. Everyone except Bettina, but that's fine, no one likes her. I'm so excited! Once you get comfortable up there on the Spanish Web, we'll have to get you practicing on the trapeze. Us girls are going to take over!" Charly crowed.

"You sound like a feminist," Lana said. She missed Mitch already. Didn't Charly understand how that felt, to have a man there to be big and strong and hold her?

"What's that?" Charly asked. "I might've been a suffragette back in the old days, in a past life. There's no room for simpering, swooning women in the circus, girly. We're strong girls." She was still in her costume, a black and white striped leotard with electric blue tights. She flexed her arm, and the muscles swelled. Lana had to admit, she was impressed. "Stronger than most men. I beat old Red arm wrestling once."

Lana didn't dare mention what her mother might have thought about girls who arm wrestled.

In this section of the fairgrounds, the wagons were a little brighter, and it certainly didn't smell as bad. A fire had been built in the center of a semi-circle of wagons and tents, and one of the musicians – with a flap of skin hanging off his cheek – sat on the stool and played a fast-timed lament on his fiddle. A dark-skinned man, nearly invisible in the night but for the flash of his white teeth, juggled clubs with a bearded midget. Others gathered round the fire, some of the girls wearing robes or jackets over their costumes. Even some of the animal performers mingled with their human costars, three nearly identical Havenese pups trotted around, looking for treats, and a goat had lain down by the fire like a part of the crowd.

"Lana, this is Olga, Mimi, and Grace," Charly said, introducing a trio of girls dressed in similar sparkly pink costumes. "They're all on web, too."

"Yes, you did a very nice job just now," Mimi said. At least, Lana thought she was Mimi. The only one she knew for certain was Olga, who had an orange tinge to her hair and a very Russian look about her. "It was sad for Mae to go, but happy too, so we are glad to have you join us."

"I certainly wouldn't have wanted Katja to join us," Grace said. "That girl belongs in the cooch tent forever."

"Oh, Grace, don't be so catty," Mimi said, but then both girls giggled.

"Where's Iris? She's going to need a costume," Charly said.

While her new friends discussed whether she was bigger or smaller than Mae and the location of the seamstress, Lana furtively looked around. She was disappointed that Mitch wasn't around. She hoped that he wouldn't think she thought she was too good to be around a roustabout, now that she was a kinker – then she smiled, thinking of how silly that would have sounded to her only a few days ago. She had picked up the language quickly.

Who she did see was Felix, the male half of the trapeze duo. He was sitting nearby, still wearing his alarmingly tight green pants and no shirt. A brown bottle in his hand, he watched her in a way that made her feel slightly uncomfortable.

"Okay, girls, have no fear! I will make sure Lana is ready to join you tomorrow!" Charly said, then pulled Lana away. "Oh, here's Felix – have you met Felix?"

"Not formally," Lana said.

"How rude of me," Felix said. He extended a hand, which Lana took in her own. His skin was warm, nearly hot, and his grip so tight that she couldn't pull away. "I am Felix," he said.

"Lana," she replied drily. "May I have my hand back, please?"

He looked at her, his eyes dark beneath that platinum blond hair, then lowered her mouth to her hand and kissed the top of it. "Enchante."

She figured that would be the end of it, but then he pulled her to him. Behind her, Charly muttered, "Oh, for heaven's sake."

"Now that you're one of us, maybe you and I could get to know each other better." His voice was hot in her ear and stank of whiskey.

"Felix, give it a rest." Charly broke in and pried Felix from the end of Lana's arm. "You know that will only piss off Bettina."

Felix laughed.

Charly dragged Lana away. "You gotta watch out for that creep. Everybody knows he's with old Betty, yet he sweet talks all the girls and then Betty gives 'em hell. You don't need to be on her bad side."

"I think I'm already there," Lana said grimly.

"Here we are," Charly said, stopping at a wagon. Lana may have learned the circus lingo fast, but she was still lost on the grounds. This wagon looked like most of the others, except maybe older. The wagons had a certain gypsy flair about them, painted in bright colors and designs, with little windows and wooden wheels. Lana wasn't entirely sure why there were wagons when they traveled by train. So much made so little sense around this place, however, that Lana didn't bother to ask.

"Knock knock," Charly called out before opening the door.

Iris was apparently the fat lady, and she also did costumes. The interior of the wagon overflowed with material, trims, sequins, beads, thread, bristling pincushions, and of course, the fat lady herself. The room appeared to be an extension of her massive form. Lana could honestly say she had never seen a person so enormous.

"Iris, meet Lana, our new spider monkey. She's replacing Mae – you probably weren't there for Rooney's announcement. Lana, this is Iris, our seamstress, and obviously, the Incredible Half-Ton Lady."

Iris lifted a fleshy forearm and waved coyly.

Charly prodded Lana forward. "Go on, Iris needs your measurements."

The fat lady pulled the measuring tape from around her neck and held it out until Lana edged close enough through the piles of fabric and fat to reach it.

"Oh, dear," Iris said when she saw Lana's shirt. "Did you have a little accident?"

"A run-in with a knife," Lana said, half-joking. She kept forgetting about her stomach. Every time she remembered, the wound seemed to give her a little stab of pain, but the rest of the time it didn't actually hurt.

"Pity. Well, perhaps it's helped give you a tiny little waist." Iris pulled the tape tight around Lana's midriff. "Twenty inches, you damn little twig."

But she smiled when she said it.

"I don't actually weigh half a ton," Iris confided. "My true weight is a slim four hundred and ninety-two pounds."

"You're practically skin and bones," laughed Charly.

"I'm sure I can just tuck in Mae's old costume. She was a bit bustier than you, but you can always stuff. Lots of the girls do."

Lana looked down at her slight bosom sadly.

"Don't worry, girly," Charly said. "You don't need any of that getting in your way. All the girls will want to be you when you're up there, twirling around pretty as you please."

Iris nodded. "Get her Mae's costume off the rack there," she told Charly.

The garment Charly pulled out looked almost exactly like those of Olga, Mimi, and Grace: a leotard with thick straps over the shoulders that crossed in back, the bottom looking more like shorts than a bathing suit, for which Lana was relieved. The entire thing was covered in iridescent pink sequins, starting in a shade of light pink at the top and ending in a deep rose around the legs.

Lana instantly loved it.

"Go, on try it on," Iris said.

Behind the oriental folding screen in the corner, Lana shucked off her grimy jeans and blouse and pulled on the sparkling outfit. It felt heavy and expensive, and shimmered softly in the dim kerosene lamp that hung from the ceiling.

"I love it," she said, emerging from behind the screen and striking a pose.

"See? You're born to perform," Charly said, grinning.

Iris clucked her tongue. "Look at you. Your waist is even tinier than Mae's. Get over here so I can pin it."

Lana couldn't stop looking at the costume, until she noticed the mirror in the corner. Then she couldn't take her eyes off herself.

"And it covers up that nasty cut nicely," Iris said. "Now, get yourself out of that and find yourself some shoes. There's a bunch in the closet. What size are you?"

"I'm a seven."

"Second shelf from the top."

After Lana shimmied out of the leotard and threw her other clothes back on, she looked through the shoes. "How about these?" Charly asked, holding out a pair of gold slippers with some embroidery.

"Pretty," Lana agreed. They were too big, though. Lana settled for a pair of light pink satin ballet slippers.

"Now, it's time for bed. You've got to get up early to practice in the morning. And you haven't even met the elephants yet."  

---

I finished Nanowrimo earlier this week, and immediately started back to work on a sequel to a certain popular Wattpad story of mine... Fingers crossed, I'll start posting that in January, but I'll continue updating this story at least once a week!