There were all kinds of activities with prizes. There was a cake walk but it was all weird cakes that didnt use eggs because of course those were hard to get. Mrs X was all dressed up like a fortune teller and was sitting inside a little makeshift tent made out of a sheet. She had a candle and a big glass paperweight with swirls in it that she was calling her “crystal ball.” She called herself Madame Fortunata and was wearing a lot of black eye make up and wearing a gown and a shawl. She had a tape recorder playing some weird flute music in the background. Even though i knew it was all make believe i felt a little freaked out by the whole thing. The music and the candlelight especially. She told me i was a nice girl with a good heart. She told me she sensed i was struggling with one of my classes at school but that i could get help if i asked for it. (Rusty tutors her?). She told me that she could tell i was a good friend and that i liked animals and that one day i would have a cat and a dog and maybe a rabbit. Elsie screwed up her nose—she told me i should be more patient with my brother and help out more around the house.

Part two of “Andrew!” ————— 20 years later

“You can run, but you can’t hide!” The booming voice roared.

Bree knew that. Still, she ran. She ran through the halls as fast as she could. Her claustrophobia was overwhelming as the grey walls seemed to close into her. Why did it seem the more Bree ran, the further away the exit became?

Bree screamed out in rage. She had to get away. She had out of here. That dumbass fortune teller. It’s his fault, isn’t it? What kind of fortune is, “You can run, but you can’t hide?” She tried to picture the fortune tellers tent. Anything, even the scarlet-colored wig wam was better than here.

It seemed welcoming when Bree and her girlfriend, Lexia, went. No! Don’t thing about Lexia. Her rage melted to sadness.

‘Oh, Lexia, I really miss you.’ Was all that was going through her head. Bree kneeled, letting her tears fall to the concrete floor.

Ringmaster walked up to Bree, picking up her chin between two fingers.

“You put up quite a fight. “ He laughed casually.

She balled up her fist, preparing to land a punch on his face.

“You got my heart pumping. But i have you-“

Bree’s punch landed right on his cheek, a large red mark where her fist hit. Ringmaster looked at her with anger, and, if she read him right, respect.

He snapped his fingers. Two muscle men seemed to appear from the shadows of the hall. One grabbed Bree’s wrists, pulling them behind her back, handcuffing her, as the other kicked her in the stomach.

Bree groaned out in pain. Ringmaster picked her up, putting her into a kneeling position. Then he kissed her on the lips.

“You are here with me forever now Breelyn.” Ringmaster said, smiling.

Bile rose in her throat. Why did he kiss her? Bree knew he was waiting for her to reply, but even if she wanted to talk to him, no words would come out.

“Now, i should properly introduce myself. You most likely know me as Ringmaster, correct?” He asked.

All Bree could muster was a small nod.

“But, since you’re not going to be leaving anytime soon, you may call me Andrew. “ Ringmaster, or Andrew, said, taking off the mask over his face.

She gasped. A long silence followed.

“Andrew?!” Bree screamed.

part three coming! ‘maybe’

Roars the wind, cackles the lady. Boils the steel pot, hisses the cat. Swirls the crystal, ‘round n’ ‘round.

The fortune teller and her mysterious orb. Floating and declaring your far and near future. A token, a coin, a bit. Put it in her palm and watch her hands move over the glass ball in rhythm.

Sitting in a tent of red, east of this old town. She’ll tell you your wildest dreams. She’ll read your future and burn it down with those purple ambered eyes of hers. Asian, Mexican, Indian, Choctaw, no one knows what she is, switching forms from old to young, infant to adolescent.

She purrs like a cat, quiet as a mouse, quick as a cheetah. She’s everything but nothing, well known but a stranger. She’s Velma, Nareese, Anita, Georgia and Jane. But most of all- she’s the fortune teller in the woods off of CottonWood Avenue.

Mumbling and milling about, she pours a bottle of clear liquid over the ball. It steams and smokes around her curled hair, plumes swirling into pictures in the oxygen-filled air. She waves a pale tan hand over it, her nails, crimson red like blood from a wound. Her eyes pierce through you from across the globe she strokes.

“What have we here?”

The buzzing of the lively performers halted when someone stepped into the room. Cosette strained to see who it was from her hidden position.

“Alright everyone, it is time to get this show on the road and head to our next city,” the Ringmaster said. She orchestrated their movements in the performance, and she seemed to here as well.

Cosette remembered her from the shiny purple and gold jacket that glittered under the light. She had this magnetic, captivating energy that had the audience not only listening to her but wanting to listen, hanging off of each word.

“I can feel your excitement, but we have to keep moving,” the Ringmaster said with a kind smile.

“Get out of our heads, Nessie,” the fire eater stated, with a laugh. Cosette didn’t know what was so funny, but everyone joined in on the laughter.

“Well stop feeling your feelings, and then I won’t sense your emotions,” Nessie retorted.

Cosette couldn’t believe it all. No–she did believe it. The biggest grin grew on her face.

All of this meant she was right!

“Cosette!” “Cosie, where did you go?” Cosette heard her mother and brother faintly call for her.

With all the clattering noises that resumed, she figured no one else could hear them, so she snuck out from under the table and went to leave.

She glanced back just to witness the magic for another moment. Everyone was buzzing around, in the air and on the ground, not noticing her small form.

The Ringmaster and the magician chatted when Cosette saw the Ringmaster gaze at her. Her lips curved into a smile and winked at her.

A little gasp escaped her lips but a giggle quickly followed. She turned her back and scurried out to her worried family.

“Cosie, please!” her brother yelled. She never heard the pleading tone in his voice before.

Her mom was talking to a small group of people. “She is wearing a pink floral shirt and denim shorts with these rainbow shoes that she had just gotten for her birthday,” her mom said. Her mom sounded concerned.

She skipped over to her brother whose back faced her. “Hi Barry!” she said happily.

“Oh my gosh! Cosie!” he exclaimed. He swept her off her feet and hugged her tightly. His strength in this embrace surprised her.

“Mom, she’s right here!” he called out.

“My baby! Don’t ever do that again!” her mom said, tears in her eyes as she joined the hug. Cosette swore Barrett’s eyes were glassy too, but maybe that was a trick of the light.

After her mom let her go but not out of her sight, she went to thank everyone who were going to help her search for Cosette.

She stood off to the side outside the circus tent with Barret holding her hand to keep her in place. His eyes still held that sad look, so with her other hand, she reached into her pocket for a napkin she had from her buttery popcorn. Her fingertips hit something else though.

It felt like a coin, cool to the touch. She took it out, and it looked a bit bigger than a quarter.

A shiny, gold token laid in the palm of her hand. Engraved on the face was a circus tent. She fumbled to turn it over with her one hand to see the other side.

In tiny print, it said, “Magic is everywhere for those who believe.”

Her eyes went as wide as the token in her grasp. Was this a gift from the circus?

“So where were you?” Barrett asked. His secure grip on her hand tightening. Her brother either didn’t see the token that she hid in her fist or didn’t feel like questioning its existence.

He looked to be actually curious. An expression she wasn’t used to seeing on someone else.

She wasn’t sure how to respond at first. Usually she was the one pestering him with questions. He never asked her anything in her whole life that she remembered at least. Then she felt the token in her fist warming up from her hot skin. She felt the circus imprint on her palm and the words etched in her mind.

“Looking for magic.”

It was chaos.

Everything was in motion in Cosette’s vision. Going from the dim, empty tent, to the lively, loud room shocked her.

She quickly ducked down under a table to her right. With the shield of the cloth, she could focus easier on the noises.

Everything was noisy. The animated performers chattered. Their steps were smooth yet loud enough to make their presence known. From the small gap between the hem and the floor, colorful shoes were scuffling by in a hurry. She saw bright red shoes, sparkly flats, and even clown shoes.

She peered from underneath, pushing up the tablecloth out of her way to get a glimpse of what was happening.

Her eyes widened at what she saw before her. Never in a million years would she forget this moment.

The two acrobats, which she recognized by their purple sparkly leotards, were soaring through the open space. No bars to swing from. No nets. No safety measures. Nothing.

They had equipment and supplies in their grasps and then dropped it off in a huge wooden crate. They were gliding like graceful birds in the air.

Near the big crate of supplies, the magician, who still had her top black top hat on, disappeared from Cosette’s sight.

Literally.

Not like when she went into a box and reappeared in a similar box some distance away. One second there and the next second was 20 feet to the left. Without any boxes. No smoke covering her disappearance act.

Then a burst of flames cut her thoughts off, bringing her gaze to her right. Everyone turned to the fire act. The sight of the blaze alone made Cosette’s insides queasy. She quickly deduced the closest exit would be the one she came through. Her mom stressed to her and Barrett to have a fire exit plan in any place they spend a lot of time in.

“Ravi! Watch it!” the one acrobat shouted. He had flown up sharply to avoid the blaze.

“Sorry, Shu!” the man apologized. The flames died down but were still very much there. The source of the fire was his hands, and it followed his movements like a command. Cosette realized that he was the fire eater. He had also juggled lit torches during the show which had made her squeal with worry when he did that.

The swirling inferno looked similar to this one movie Barrett likes to watch. In that one, they were superheroes with overt powers. He told her that things that happened in movies weren’t real.

This was real.

“Roar!”

The thunderous exclamation had her whipping her head to face the other side. Her neck protested at the sudden movements of her head.

The menacing beasts pranced around without any cages to confine them. Cosette quivered at the thought of their roars. It did not have the same effect on the other performers though.

“Sorry, Tigger wanted to say that he’s hungry, and we should feed him soon,” the lion tamer said, sheepishly rubbing the back of neck. “You all know how he gets on closing night,” he added. The lion, Tigger, went up to the lion tamer and nudged him with enough force to make him stumble forward. The performers laughed boisterously with such amusement and joy, it made Cosette smile too.

“I don’t think Tigger appreciates you saying that,” the magician said, with a fit of giggles following her words. She disappeared for a moment out of Cosette vision again, and then she reappeared with a piece of raw meat. She tossed it upwards, and Tigger took a mighty leap to catch it.

Her friend’s dog did the same thing for treats, but she had never seen a lion do that.

The beast let out a softer purr and almost seemed to grin with his immense teeth. “He says thanks,” the lion tamer translated, brushing the lion’s furry mane.

They all acted like this was normal. Flying was normal. Teleporting was normal. Moving fire with a flick of your hands was normal. Talking to lions was normal. All of this was normal to them.

Magic was real.

(Not exactly the prompt, but it involves a circus tent which is close enough. This will be in three parts because of the limited word count. It’s already fully written. I wrote this for thing for my school.) ———

“How do they do it?”

ooooooo

Circuses amazed the young Cosette Chiman. Her aunt told her stories of when she was Cosette’s age and witnessed its magic. Every retelling of the dynamic acts mesmerized her. For her 8th birthday, she had pleaded to go to the traveling circus.

Her mom granted her wish.

The acrobats soared, cutting through the air as if they defied gravity. Courageous lion tamers risked their lives all to get the lions to do a simple task. Magicians seemingly teleported from one box to another without any sign of trickery. Fire performers swallowed fire like it was the sweet popcorn served in the stands.

The circus was magic.

ooooooo

Curious Cosette was what her family called her. She would question everything from why the sky is blue to how Santa or the Easter Bunny could get to every house in one night.

Her family enjoyed and feared her desire for knowledge.

After a drawn out pause, her mother said, “They practice and train for each performance I would think.”

They strolled towards the exit along with throngs of people leaving.

“It isn’t real. The tricks are so obvious,” her older brother added with a roll of his eyes. Her inquisitive thoughts were always too loud for him.

Her mom stroked Cosette’s twisty licorice hair. “It is as real as you want it to be,” her mom stated, glaring at Barrett. Cosette stuck her tongue out at him when their mom's sharp eyes gazed at him. He shrugged unbothered.

She felt the breeze from the evening weather cooling her rosy cheeks as they left the warm, bright tent.

“Do either of you have to go to the bathroom before we are in the car for a while?” her mom asked. Both children shook their heads, shiny black hair swishing in their faces. Cosette glanced at the porta potties when they first arrived, and there was no way she was going in one of those.

“Barrett, watch your sister. I’ll be in the bathroom for a second.”

The moment she left, Cosette turned to her brother. “Barry, why can’t magic be real?” she asked with her big chocolate eyes peering at him.

“Cause the circus is full of tricks. They just try to take advantage of little children’s belief in it like you,” he said, patting her head gently.

Cosette’s face became thoughtful as she looked down at her rainbow sneakers.

“Are you sure that—” “Yes, I’m sure, Cosie,” he said in exasperation. She was very familiar with that tone. He used it a lot with her.

“I’m actually gonna go to the bathroom. Just stay right here for Mom,” Barrett said, interrupting her inquiries. She watched her towering brother get smaller as he joined the neverending line to the smelly restrooms.

Magic wasn’t real? At least according to her stupid brother. Barrett acted like he was an old, wise man when he was just seven years older than her.

A booming thump brought her attention back to the tent. She could still see the stage from the large opening that she was ordered to stay put at. “Sorry!” the strongman act exclaimed. The circus was packing up their props and dragging them behind a curtain.

Barrett’s denial of magic rang in her ears. She heard whispers of his declaration in the slight wind.

He was wrong. He didn’t have proof that there wasn’t any magic in the entire world, but then again, neither did she.

Barrett always thought he knew more than her, but she was right about this though. She just needed undeniable evidence.

She took off running back into the scarlet curtains that held all of her answers.

The long red and white stripes of the tent seemed to stretch so much bigger to Cosette when it was empty. She skipped down the stairs, running her little fingers along the tent’s soft fabric as she went.

Popcorn and other pieces of snacks were strewn across the ground. It crunched under her small feet.

She neared closer to the doorway that all the performers had been exiting through. Her heart was beating so loud that she thought that booming noises were footsteps. Her sandy skin was flush from anticipation.

She was finally going to get answers.

There was the entrance with bright lights right above, flashing to invite her in. She took a deep breath like she was winding up to blow out the candles on her birthday cake.

Then she walked in.

The old owl witch waits Yes, she’ll tell you a secret, But with circumstance.

One mystical night I had such a dream I wandered the forest in a gown colored cream It was surely like nothing I’d seen How did I get here what did it mean

A tent in a clearing deep reds in between I peeked through the opening for the light source unseen And then I saw it a Chrystal chandelier As I ventured closer a woman dressed in red in front of a Sphere

She was older I noticed but her beauty remained She stared into my soul my bravery waning She had certainly aged but this was my sister Had passed away from a fire with burns and blisters

She has known me through through the tuff times and good times too The years passed quickly the years they just flew Then I noticed this crystal ball contained an image It was me, my sibling had become a mage

As I stood there in awe and fear I remembered I was dreaming that was clear Suddenly awakened with quite a start My sister and this mystery would remain in my heart.

We saw the big red tent while looking for hot dogs to go with our frozen schlurpees. “Madame Blavatsky Tells All”, the sign out front said.

“Why does she have her own tent?” I asked.

Frieda shrugged. “People think she’s the real deal.”

We sipped our drinks as we watched the parade of people going in and out. Sometimes smiling, sometimes grim.

“Some say she can predict your death,” Frieda also said, nonchalantly.

I felt a chill going down my spine.

“Wanna go inside?”

“Get yer tickets for Madame Blavatska, teller of fortunes!” The carnival barker crowed. “Come you two lovely ladies, and hear what will happen for the rest of your lives!”

Frieda and I looked at the tent and the steady stream of people going in and out. The barker held out two tickets.

“Do you really wanna know? I asked. Schlurrrp.

Frieda took an answering long schlurp. “Nah.”

We strolled away, looking for the hot dog stand.

“C’mon Corey it’ll be fun. What’s the harm?” Alice pouted her plump red lips. Fidgeting, Corey shuffled. Alice pulled at his arm. Polly laughed. “Stop being a wuss, man,” Justin said and shoved Corey’s shoulder. The foursome walked out of the din of the carnival and stepped into the quiet glow of the fortune teller’s tent. Incense, smoky and spicy, greeted them. Tall curtains cut the tent into smaller rooms and dark silky hallways. Corey clutched Alice’s warm fingers as they went in deeper and deeper. There were murky apothecary jars and hanging shrunken heads. The group rounded a darken corner. The curtains opened up to a gift shop. Justin pretended to be a zombie. Polly laughed. Alice picked through the sets of tarot cards as Corey sighed. “Alice, Madame Calliope is ready for you.” A Goth teenaged boy who was playing Candy Crush on his phone directed them to another opening. Single file they walked in to a smaller curtained room. Behind a dark velvet enrobed table sat slight woman with lilac locs in a Mario Brothers tee shirt. Justin snorted. Polly laughed as the group settled around one side of the table. With a Mona Lisa smile, Madame Calliope scrutinized each person around the table. “Buckle up babies let spin the future.” The room drifted into a dark purple light. Suddenly, the candles around the room flickered alive. The fortune teller closed her eyes and her face grew slack. “Alice, lay your hands palm up.” The medium studied Alice’s hands in complete silence. Slowly she traced each line. Madame Calliope inhaled sharply and pulled back. “Why did you kill her?” The medium shouted. Alice whipped her hand away. Polly laughed. “Shut the hell up, Pol. What is this shit?” Justin jumped up. The candles began to wan and splutter. “I smell the gasoline. It was dark, so dark. You were there and you and you. The smoke—can you smell it—is choking me. All of you. I can hear laughing. When was it? When was it, Alice?” Madame Calliope’s voice pitched higher and higher. The heavy curtain of incense was cut with the sweet sting of gasoline. “I didn’t, I didn’t it was Mischief Night. We were joking.” Alice sank to her knees and began wailing. “You stupid cow, who did you tell,” Justin shouted and began shaking Alice like a rag doll. Corey pushed Justin away. “Get off her, man. This is your fault. It was your idea to prank the Hasans. You bought the gasoline.” The men began shuffling and fighting. Polly tried to pull them apart. “It was my fault. We soaped the windows and papered the trees. But I chained the doors. I didn’t think the fire in the leaf pile would spread. How could I know?” Alice screamed to the fortune teller’s empty chair.

Toeing off her boots Madame Calliope plopped into a chair. Outside her caravan the police where gathering up the quartet of friends into squad car. “How was the recording, Spider?” “Clear as a bell. But the way those marks fell on each other the D.A. will be smothered in confessions. I texted Mr. H that things went smoothly.” Chatting about the next town, the two grifters shared a beer and the fortune teller tried not to think about the smell of gasoline on crisp leaves.