Chapter One
Kal
A new day breaks
Under the blue skies above
A new crowd waits
All they need is a little shove
The Carnival is here
With mysteries galore
To satisfy your cravings
To leave you wanting more
We’re here today, gone the next,
Taking along our magic and song.
Come inside, take a peek
Surprises like these won’t wait long
Here we have the fantastical calliope,
come dance with our talented Kal
His music will delight and seduce you
With the power of the siren’s call
So step right up, and don’t be shy
For his time is coming to a close
Come shimmy and shake with this talented guy
And celebrate the last of his shows…
I’d memorized the ringmaster’s introduction, though it was more sensational than I deserved. And last night’s version had a new ending, one I’d been expecting, but hearing it brought a sliver of anxiety to my bones.
The instrument I played was actually a calliaphone—a more efficient and portable version of the forced-air organ—and I’d built it myself, that much I knew. It was my voice. It spoke all I knew to say, my own words lacking. I possessed the ability to speak, but I’d mostly forgotten how, therefore I preferred to let my music speak for me. I played for the crowds. I smiled for them, but I was transparent to the onlooker.
One year had passed in this way, one year of my life, and I had nothing of my own. No friends to help, no family to love, and no safe place to lay my head away from the carnival. What would I do, where would I go, and would someone see me for me?
The boss, Mr. Ame, told me soon it would be time to move on to the next phase. I’d no clue what that meant other than I would no longer travel with the carnival. There was nothing to pack, nothing to carry, only the clothes—and the scars—I wore on my body. I would miss my calliaphone and the crowds, but I knew it was time. My stay had been healing, educational. My time taught me plenty. The carnival would go on without me and my music, on to the next place to entertain…and seduce the locals. They’d fall under the spell of my fellow travelers. Some might even be chosen to come along.
I remembered little from my time before I, too, had joined the carnival. Humiliation and regret reverberated within the structures of my cells, but I didn’t recall more than that, much less the reason for the debt that forced me into servitude. The boss took me away from the darkness, and promised to set me free one day. But what was free, what would it mean, who would I be? A musician, a man, alone? I’d forgotten my past. I’d learned all I could in this place. Would I survive what lay ahead?
I took my questions to the man in charge, the one they call Errante Ame, and he confirmed that my time with the carnival was at an end.
“My dear, Kallos,” the boss said to me. “The world has done you wrong, not the other way around. You have been a part of something important here, and we shall never forget the joy your music has brought to our clan and our guests. But now it is time for you to move on, as all in the crew must do. It is your choice where you’ll go once you leave the perimeter, what you will do with the time you have left.
“You have been invisible to our guests for so long, adored for your playing, of course, but who you are remains unseen, unspoken. A blank canvas, a puzzle. Only you can solve the riddle of your life. The time is near when you will set out on your greatest adventure, the journey to find your purpose. Being reborn can be frightening. You will have questions, but the answers you seek can be found within yourself. All you must do is follow your instincts, and your heart’s desire. Do what you feel is right and true. Be good to yourself and your fellow creatures, and walk the path of least harm.
“When the next sun rises, you will step outside the bounds of the carnival. You will have all that you need to begin anew. By the following sunrise, our carnival will have moved on. A traveling music festival will share these grounds with us tomorrow. Perhaps you can start there.”
I knew down deep in my bones that he was correct, that something momentous was about to occur.
That night I slept soundly, tucked into the trailer that housed my calliaphone, where I’d slept for the past year, but when I woke before dawn, my body trembled and my skin was clammy.
I sat up and exhaled, glancing around my tiny space. Fresh water was delivered to my trailer each morning, and I cleaned up the best I could. I made my bed as neatly as possible, as I didn’t know who might be there next. There were fresh clothes laid out for me. Strange clothes. A plain white sleeveless undershirt and a short-sleeved checkered button-up, a pair of denim trousers that felt scratchy to the touch, a handkerchief—in fact, there was a stack of them—and a pair of black canvas lace-up shoes.
Next to that pile was a coat made of some sort of fabric that made swishy noises when you ran your finger over it. There was also a billfold. I’d never seen one like it. It had a chain with a hook on either end, I supposed so you could hook it to your belt loops. Seemed like a smart idea. I’d seen people lift billfolds from unsuspecting visitors at the carnival before.
Inside the billfold were more surprises.
A little card had a picture on it that looked remarkably like me. It said Kallos Alexandrou, born January 1, 1997. The address listed was somewhere in a town called Muscatine, Iowa. The back of my neck itched as I read the card, like a bug had landed on my skin, making enough of a distraction that I felt I needed to swat it. My hand came away empty.
I put the new clothes on. They felt right, as if I’d always worn clothes such as these.
I knew that I’d come here with the organ, but my memory of its origin was hazy. What would happen to my only friend when I left? Would someone else play it, care for it? Would it be abandoned? What would life be without my fingers on its keys? I played so many of the standard tunes, as those were what folks mostly wanted to hear, but I also played my own compositions in between. Visitors to the carnival applauded them just as often.
I ran a loving hand over the keys. If we are meant to be together, I’ll find you again.
Before I lost my courage, I climbed down to the grass below and moved toward the exit. The sky was the same as every morning since I could remember; the brightest blue with puffy white clouds here and there to accentuate the promise of a whimsical day. I had another itch on my neck and reflexively smacked at it, thinking there was a time before when the sky hadn’t looked like this. It had been something to…fear?
My stomach clenched and I caught a chill as my feet carried me closer to the boundary. The banner at the entrance that welcomed travelers had a different message on the side facing the carnival. “Enjoy Your Journey.”
Before me was an expanse of black asphalt. Several rows of enormous, shiny metal tubes on wheels lined one side of the space and workers rushed around setting up colorful tents. They were smaller than ours and were open-faced, displaying colorful items of clothing, rather than our tents that contained bits of the mysterious to titillate guests young and old.
I stood at the threshold for some time, glancing back toward my trailer and then looking forward, intrigued by all of the activity before me. Black and white checkered flags adorned poles throughout the space and someone was setting up a giant inflatable screen of some sort, like one you’d see at a moving picture house.
Where had that thought come from?
Every so often, I would make a connection between something I saw and something I remembered but I couldn’t tell you the how or why or even the when of it! I’d had more of them the past few weeks. Perhaps it was the fact that I was coming up on a year of service. Maybe the magic of the carnival was wearing off.
It had to be magic, whatever made me forget my life before. The boss said I’d been hurt something awful, but you’d think I’d recall something like that. My body was adorned with visible physical scars, but it was the ones that lie beneath the surface of my consciousness that terrified me the most. I wasn’t sure I wanted to remember them.
A breeze tickled my face and I inhaled—and nearly coughed up a lung. Some sort of burning smell permeated the air. It seemed to be coming from the big rumbling metal tubes. Reminded me of the coal used to power the old calliope the carnival kept around. I preferred to play my calliaphone rather than that old thing. It was much easier on the ears and didn’t require coal to function.
There were other scents though that were familiar. Tobacco, fried food, and something sweet floated on the breeze, like cotton candy.
Loud, echoey voices rang out through the early morning like some sort of announcer. I couldn’t quite make out the words from where I was but it sounded important.
“It’s almost time.”
I hadn’t heard Mr. Ame approach, but that was his way.
He held out a hand, and I shook it.
“Things are vastly different now than they were when you left their world. You need to take care who you trust, with whom you share your truth. The cards in your billfold will help you acquire what you need. The currency will replenish as necessary. If you want answers, go to the address on the identification card. Keep it safe. Remember to follow your heart.”
A crackling sound ripped through the air, and I covered my ears as a screeching and pounding sound bounced off every surface.
“Good luck, Kallos.”
Mr. Ame nodded and walked back toward our row of tents.
His row.
None of this belonged to me, nor I to it any longer.
I lifted my right foot, closed my eyes, and stepped over the threshold.
