Season of Reckoning
Ordinary People. Extraordinary Abilities.
Real People. Unreal Adventure.

Episode 9 – Home Sweet Home
Written and directed by: David Justin R. Ples
Co-directed by: Chester Ragudo, Jacob Madrid, Rebecca Yu, Benedict Almirol

Previously, on SR…
“Maybe it’s better if you leave, Chester. You’re no use here anyway.”
“I’m going to the one place that’s made me feel home in a long, long time.”
“No one can refuse the charms of the carnival for long. I made sure to give our boy the means to find his way home.”
“When do you think Patty is coming back?”
“Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick!”
“Saying goodbye.”
Now, SR continues.
__________________________________________________________________________

Chari falters as a blast of scorching noontime sun floods the backseat of the FX. Chester’s familiar lanky silhouette, backpack slung over his shoulder, blocks the light out for a second as he steps onto the dusty road.
“I got you,” he coughs, taking her hand. Chari hesitates, almost unwilling to leave the cold comfort of the quiet vehicle. Beside her on the seats, three other passengers stir, turning over to keep the outside world at arm’s length. They nudge against each other’s shoulders, and return to snoring. Finally, she hops off, stomach lurching - a leap of faith.
The FX’s wheels surge through the dirt, and Chester watches with a wordless grin as it disappears into the horizon. He cocks his head back, and then unzips the back pocket of his bag. A forked piece of wood, embellished with little golden stones, slides out, and immediately begins to bob up and down in his hands.
“How far?” Chari asks, tying her hair into a ponytail. Her companion scans the barren earth around them, pointing his dowsing rod, tipped with topaz, at every bush and boulder he can see. The artifact nearly leaps out of his hand, and he follows its insistent tugs into the wasteland.
“We’re getting closer. I can feel it.”
The words are scarcely out of his mouth when the sky melts away before them. Cloudless blue evaporates into a hundred red and yellow streamers framed against the rustic metal of Ferris wheel and rollercoasters. Children’s laughter echoes over the sound system, in tune with festive calliope music. A vision appears before them, arms outstretched like the Messiah descended from the cross.
Noel.
He and Chester lock eyes, struggling with memories from that evening four weeks ago – distant and half-forgotten. The chaos under the big top. The offer of family. The heavy sighs they had unknowingly shared, the shortness of breath in their chests as they had suffered the innumerable pangs of a loss they had yet to fully understand.
Chari had never met Chester’s father before. But the way he walked right into those welcoming arms – you would’ve thought he was coming home.

*****

Never pushing, never shoving, never having to squeeze her way through the crowd – it was a luxury that Golda bitterly enjoyed. Her gaze passed over each of them in turn, a ghost surveying ghosts, pallid and almost undead from her otherworld. She lets out a faint gasp, soundless in her abyss, as Elise glides through her; seconds later, Jethro passes through, unaware of her presence.
She was so hollow that it hurt.
To step out of these gray shadows and into their light – it was unthinkable. To make herself known, to make herself seen, now, in her comical attire, in all her imperfect glory, was just too much of a risk. Noel had taught her all the words before, but ultimately, what could she offer that would trump the certainty of the life they already lived?
She had no curly locks, not like her. No adorable laugh, not even a smile. This girl, this Elise, she had him, and she would always have him. No matter what Golda could do, no matter how many rabbits she pulled out of her hat or how many handkerchiefs she pulled out of her sleeve, Elise would always be ahead of her.
Because in their fantasy high school world, Elise was real. And Golda was a ghost.
“How could I let this happen? They’re gone, Jethro. Gone.”
“The dorms?”
“Not there. I checked. I shouldn’t have been so harsh. What if they don’t come back?”
“Elise, relax. It’s Chester, remember? The knucklehead knows better. It’s gonna be fine. It’s all going to be just fine.”
The way he kneaded her shoulders. The way she practically collapsed into his arms. The way they could be emotionally, physically there for each other. How she envied them.
“Where are you going?”
“I need to think. Tell the others Paskorus practice is cancelled for today. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Elise, her Jethro’s sparkling Artemis, walks away, rapidly, clutching her books like every breath she had in her depended on those pages. And Jethro himself, standing there by the lockers. At last he would understand - how it felt to stand still and senseless while the world turned. She could tell he wanted to go after her.
Love. Affection. It was their privilege, the crest of an uncomplicated life. It was too much for Golda to ask. But they were friends, at least. At most. They had a picture together. They’d told some stories. Made some jokes.
She had a right to care, didn’t she?
She would help him help her. Win the girl. Have the happiness he deserved.
That much she owed him. Because in the next week or so, in the coming months, she would take away so much more. Maybe he would forgive her if she was good to him now.

*****

“Glad to see you come back.”
The words dimly register in Chester’s ears as they walk along the sand-strewn paths. He knew these walks, knew where to turn before Noel could point out the avenues. His whole body could remember the grainy feel of pebbles under his shoes, of the wind carrying the weak year-end sun across his arms. Pieces of his last visit surfaced every time a tent flap would snap and fold as he walked by. It was like he never left.
And yet somehow the carnival he recognized had also changed. In the daylight, everything was so much lighter, different from the way the immensity of it all pressed down on him on that fateful night. Clowns were walking by, honking their big red noses and squirting passersby with their flower brooches. Every now and again the sound of bottle towers collapsing intersected the laughter of children. The November Carnival, a month from its first gloomy arrival in Ilocos, had flourished in his absence.
“I needed somewhere to crash for a while,” Chester yawns. He can feel Noel watching him from the side, and as his eyes slide left, he notices the ringmaster’s crooked smile. It was like Noel was remembering something, too. “What’s a good ride?”
“For you, I recommend the Flying Festival. If you don’t scream your head off, then you can have your money back! What do you say? A good deal?”
“I dunno,” shrugs Chester. “What do you think, Chari?”
Beside him, Chari shrinks back as Noel leans forward to get a good look at her. To her surprise, he smiles, and tilts his chin back to acknowledge her presence.
“Was under the impression we would get everything for free,” Chester adds, smirking. “Don’t us specials get a discount or something?”
A nervous moment passes in which Chester almost takes back his words. Noel stops walking, and with an eyebrow raised, looks the two students over. He’d been wondering if Chester remembered. Obviously, he did, and to his relief, the boy wasn’t going to take it against him.
“Heh.” Noel grins, and sharply inhales. “Of course, of course. All your rides and drinks, on me. Go, enjoy yourselves. Have to make most of your time at the carnival, right?” As he says this, he looks over their heads, and calls someone over. “If you need anything, anything at all, you can talk to our Bearded Lady.”

*****

“Take good care of this kid,” Noel whispers to Alla, brushing some of her hair back. Today she wears it in a golden blonde beehive topped with pinwheel flowers. The curls behind her ear bristle as she listens.
“I bet he reminds you of yourself when you were younger, Cabs.”
“And how would you know, Miss Alla Tan?”
“Sometimes Lydia talks about her little brother and how he was a loafing lazybones. But don’t worry; I think she means to sound fond of you or something.”
“My sister misses the old me now, after all the scolding she used to give me. Know-it-all mother’s pet, but she cared. She’s so distant lately.”
“You’ll win her approval back.”
Noel sighs. ”Introduce them to Patty,” he continues, gesturing to the gleeful artist waiting patiently beside her. “I’ll be around.”
As Noel turns and goes, Chester and Chari approach. Patty bounds forward, and throws Chester a warm hug.
“You two know each other?” Alla asks.
“We were classmates,” mutters Chester, just barely able to tear his eyes away from Alla’s beard. She notices this, and winks, her moustache wrinkling slightly. “So this is where you’ve been hiding all this time, Patty. If I’d known it was a legit reason to be absent, I’d have run off here a long time ago.”
“It isn’t,” Patty laughs. “I love being here, Chester. I feel like I’m part of a family, which is a lot to say, since, you know. Sometimes I stop and think that my real parents would be happy that I’ve found a place here. I’m really contributing.” Patty pauses, inhaling. She graciously smiles, pearly whites agleam with her braces. “I can’t say I don’t miss everyone back at PSHS, though. How are they?”
“We were all wondering where you were. Trust me, you’re living the good life – no trig long tests and no homework. What have you been up to?”
“Alla here’s had me on beautification duty. I’ve been prettying up the posters here, see?” Patty points to some moving advertisements posted on the tent poles. “And lately I’ve been working on some invitations we’ll be sending out. To specials, you know? I heard you’re one, too. That’s awesome.”
“Not really. Powers have been getting me into heaps of trouble.”
As Chester and Patty continue to talk, Chari steps back and takes a seat on a large crate outside the Bearded Lady’s tent. He hadn’t even bothered to introduce her. She wonders how long it will be before they finish catching up, and then sees Alla looking similarly out of place just beyond them.
“What are your powers, anyway?” Patty asks.
Before Chester can begin to explain, Alla cuts between them. “There’ll be plenty of time to talk about that later, sweetie,” she says, waving her bangle-adorned wrists as though to shoo their concerns away. “The new beh-behs must be so tired. I know how far PSHS is. Golda makes regular visits and she says the journey is like, absolute murder.”
“Who’s Golda?”
Chari watches the smile fade from Alla’s face. Nearby, wading through a crowd of carnival goers, Noel shoots her a silencing look. Chari’s eyebrows knot.
“Oh, uhm, no one really. Let’s get some chow, kids. I’m totally starving.”

*****

“Turn the music off.”
Yvanne’s eyes veer off the road for two seconds to survey her cousin in the rear view mirror. Claudine slumps against the seat, clutching a neck pillow in her hands. Her eyeliner is unusually dark today, and Yvanne frowns at her all-black ensemble.
“Looking for something more punk rock?” she laughs. Claud doesn’t return the humor.
“I just don’t wanna listen to Ke$ha right now, okay.”
“But the party don’t start -”
“Yvanne. Please.”
The secretary is taken aback by her cousin’s words. She abruptly switches the radio off. The drive continues in silence, with the two caged behind tinted windows, unwilling to speak a word to each other. Every now and again, Claud shifts position in the back seat.
The car slows as they approach a red light.
A beetle hovers outside the window, and Claud begins to roll the glass down.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m letting the bug in.”
“Eew, gross! Close that window before we get into an accident! I can’t drive if there’s going to be some disgusting beetle crawling around on my leather!”
Claudine ignores this, and allows the insect to settle on her index finger. It stays there, obediently seated, which is more than what Yvanne can say for her cousin. She grabs the old newspaper lying around beside her on the passenger seat – where Claud should’ve been – and whacks the poor, unsuspecting creature out the still open window.
“Hey!”
“Don’t you hey me, b----” yells Yvanne, just as a car behind them honks loudly. She steps on the gas, and wheels around the intersection. “You’ve been acting up the entire weekend.”
“I’m the b----?!” cries Claud incredulously, at exactly the same time another car in front of them beeps its horn. Yvanne had almost collided with its bumper. “Why don’t you just leave me alone?”
“I have news for you, sweetie,” hisses Yvanne, gritting her teeth. “I’m your guardian. For as long as your parents are gone -”
“What? You get to play mom? You’re not my mom. You’re barely even a grown-up. Stop butting into my business! I don’t need you breathing down my neck.”
“Butting into – oh my god. This is still about that freaking carnival, isn’t it?”
Yvanne pulls over at the old bank building where she used to work. She yanks her door open, and pounds on the window of Claudine’s door for her to get out. Like a blizzard, Claudine storms out of the vehicle and stomps into the lobby.
Her cousin beats her to the elevator, where she pushes the button to the top floor. The two endure the steady climb in heated quiet. On the fourth floor, the doors slide open and a couple of men enter.
“You’re lucky I saved your ass, Claud.”
“All you did was tear me away from my best friend.”
“You’re crazy if you were thinking of joining her in that flea circus. If she was really your friend, she wouldn’t have hauled your dumb locks into the middle of nowhere with all those clowns.”
“You don’t even understand what you’ve done,” Claud cries, flashing the eavesdroppers around her an evil eye. “It took me months to track Dani down. I was perfectly happy there. People get me there.”
“People are dangerous there,” Yvanne appends, rolling her eyes.
“Everything would’ve worked out if you hadn’t meddled.”
“How dare you. I do not meddle. You don’t know what they would’ve done to you. How are you so sure they didn’t kidnap Dani in the first place?”
The panel above the door pings a bright yellow, and some notaries walk into the elevator. The growing crowd adjusts, and Claudine is shoved beside her cousin. They squabble for room, finally deciding to settle for not having to look at each other.
Claudine remembers the way the detective convulsed on the floor. The sparks circling the ringmaster’s clenched fists.
“I would’ve worked it out. I could’ve handled it.”
“You wouldn’t know the first thing. I’m a businesswoman, Claud. I know about planning and strategies and logistics. Getting through obstacles is a challenge, and you can’t just run headlong into danger and hope to get out unscratched.”
“Businesswoman? Fat chance. You’re just a dowdy secretary,” Claud sneers.
“Oh. My god. You did not just call me that.”
The door opens a third time, and everyone gets off except the arguing pair. The elevator continues to rise, floor buttons lighting up in sequence.
“I wanna go back,” Claud says stubbornly. Just then, the door opens onto the top floor. Yvanne files out, her cousin in tow, and practically flies up a couple of stairs. The dark rectangle ahead of them opens out onto the roof, where a helicopter is waiting.
“Don’t you get it? I’m just trying to keep you safe. There are freaks in that hole I just pulled you out of. This is so much bigger than you think it is, Claudine Allyson.”
Claud hated the way her cousin said both of her names. It was patronizing.
“No, you’re the one who doesn’t get it. I belong with those ‘freaks’. I’m a special, too!”
Yvanne’s heels grind to a halt.
“That’s right,” continues Claud. “I have powers, and I belong in that carnival, where everyone else has powers, too.”
Shoulders hunched and locked, Yvanne turns to her cousin. She licks her lips, and tries to put a manicured hand on Claud’s shoulder.
“I did what I did because I care.”
“That’s an epic lie,” snaps Claud, cocking her head back. She flicks Yvanne’s hand away in irritation. “You don’t know the first thing about me. You think I’m young and girly and stupid, and that I still like all your typical tween glamour. I’m hardcore, and stronger than you’ll ever be, and you don’t need to hover over me pretending you’re a mom. I’ve been through more than you probably ever will be in your entire life. So get a clue. Leave me alone.”
Yvanne throws the helicopter door open, and the blades above them begin to turn. She doesn’t attempt to project her voice over the roar of the mounting wind. Instead, she takes her cousin by the arm and flings her into one of the seats.
The door slides shut, and the helicopter takes off.

*****

Jethro sweeps some dust from the stone of the third floor stairwell, and takes his place next to Elise. He hesitates as she sobs, and wishes he could muster the courage to brush her hair back behind her ear.
“I’m sorry you have to see this,” she sniffs, as he hands her his handkerchief to wipe her tears. She takes it, hastily dabbing the wet spots on her cheeks. When she finishes, she beams her usual smile, and even manages to stick her tongue out at him.
“You’re like me now,” says Jethro. “You worry too much. You really care about Chester, don’t you? Even when you were yelling at him…we all saw how much it hurt.”
“He’s so lazy and irresponsible and you never know if he means to do what he says.”
Jethro licks his lips, fumbling for words.
“How can you count on him,” she goes on, “to be okay?”
Awkwardly, Jethro pats her on the back. He cringes as he does this, praying to high heaven that Elise doesn’t notice how hopeless he is in this kind of situation. Hundreds of movies and indie songs, all gone to waste.
(Follow my lead,) comes Golda’s voice in his ear. He whirls around to mouth how busy he is, but Elise’s feelings begin to pour out like a river.
“Well he’s not going to ask me to prom now. Not after I humiliated him in front of everyone. I might as well go with Chari,” she laughs. “After all, my dad probably won’t object to that. Argh. If a male friend smiles at you, he’ll get you pregnant. If he asks you to his house, you’ll get pregnant. If you have a date to prom, he’ll get you freaking pregnant. Don’t get into this, it’s too rough; don’t get into that, it’s too hard for a girl. I’m not just a girl, you know. Gah. I’m a person, too.”
(Tell her how amazing you think she is. Tell her how you feel about everything she does.)
“What? I can’t do that,” Jethro hisses, just as Golda’s invisible elbow jabs him in the stomach. “Youch!”
“Are you okay?” Elise asks, confused.
“Yeah. And uh, you should be too. You’re this incredible, headstrong young woman. You’re like, a force of nature.”
(Good. Now remind her about all the extraordinary things she can do.)
“You’re class president, SCA president, choir leader, violinist, volleyball player, and Capoerista. You could probably break some guy’s bones if he ever tried to make you do anything you didn’t want to -”
(Now hint at how you feel, Jethro Jamon. Talk about how you like who she is.)
“- and that should scare me, but it doesn’t, because I think you’re really cool. And your dad will figure that out. You just have to show him who you really are.”
The effort of conjugating all those meaningful phrases together exhausts Jethro, and he slumps back against the steps. Sweat pours down his sides, and he can’t believe his hands are actually quivering slightly. He looks to see what effect his speech has had on Elise; her lips are one straight line, and she hugs her knees tight.
“You’re right about all those things, you know. Isn’t it stupid how I’ve been doing so much to prove myself to him and he still treats me like I don’t know how to make the right decisions? But with Chester leaving, I’m starting to doubt if I did the right thing.”
(Tell her everyone makes mistakes,) Golda says. She remembers how the keyboard’s insulating cord felt against her fingertips. The sound it made as it broke into pieces. She didn’t just hurt Chester. She hurt Elise, too. (You know she would make it up to him if she could.) As Golda says this, she looks straight into Jethro’s eyes. It stings to have him stare through her.
“It’s okay to be angry. And I guess, you can’t always get things right. But Chester’s gonna be okay. And Chari, too. I’m pretty sure that if you could apologize to Che right now, he’d forgive you. You mean a lot to him, you know.”
“Really?”
“I’m his best friend, I should know.” Jethro’s chest suddenly weighs heavy with his own words. He hadn’t exactly been there for Chester, either. No wonder he ran off.
“I’d ask him to prom right now if I could. But no self-respecting girl would do that.”
(Say that she’s too good to care about what anyone else thinks.)
“You’re uh, too good to care what anyone else thinks. Besides, there are probably other guys out there who really, really like you and want to ask you out.”
“Like who?”
(Confession time, Jamon.)
Jethro pauses, heart pounding in his chest. With his next breath, it drops into his stomach like an anchor. “I can’t,” he mutters under his breath. He tries to look at Elise again, but ends up staring blankly at the checkered yellow pattern of her skirt. “I dunno. Maybe they’ll surprise you. In the meanwhile, you gotta cheer up, Elise. Smile for me again. That’s who you are, Elise – bouncy, energetic. Happy.”
“Thanks, Jethro,” she says, hugging him. Every nerve in his body explodes simultaneously, and he sinks into the warmth of her touch. “You’re like my big brother.”
No one can see it, and no one can hear it, but somewhere in the abyss of another dimension, Golda facepalms. Jethro frowns for a moment, but contents himself with their prolonged contact. Finally, Elise breaks free.
“When I’m with you guys, I feel like I’m home. More at home than with Dad and his expectations that I never ever seem to meet no matter what. When I’m hanging around you and Chester and Chari, I don’t have to be anyone but me,” she smiles. “Now if only I was sure who I was, exactly. How do you do it, Jet?”
“What? Do what?”
“You’re totally confident with the way you look, and the music you listen to, and the things that you…like. You know what you like. That’s pretty important. I’m just trying everything out because I need to show everyone I’m capable. Sometimes I get lost in it all.”
(I think you know what to say, Jethro. I…I need to go now. Good luck.)
“I got this. Thanks, voice. Hey, wait, your name?” he whispers, as Elise toys with the aglets of her rubber shoes.
Golda bites her lip so hard it begins to bleed. She couldn’t risk her name. Not yet. Clenching her fists, she starts soundlessly down the steps, looking back only to make sure that Jethro and Elise are happy in each other’s company.
They are.
“That’s just me, you know,” Jethro continues, a little sad not to hear an answer from his invisible friend. “You don’t have to figure everything out right now. That’s what high school is about, I guess. It’s a season of reckoning. We all figure out who we are, where we belong, what we like.”
Here he stumbles. “Who we like.”
Just then the bell rings. Elise springs up, and grabs Jethro by the wrists.
“Thanks again, Jethro. Now come on. Only four more periods, and then maybe at the end of the day Chari and Chester will be back.”

*****

“She’s definitely a keeper, eh? What do you think?”
Terence bounces on his heels, favorite cap fit snugly over his head. He traces Chari with his eyes as she walks by, outlining every curve and every subtle movement of her hair with a thought in his head of snatching her away.
Behind him, bathed in shadow, his companion stirs. The sound of jingling bells flitters through the tent.
“You’re an idiot if you think she’s looking to swap.”
“You’re a nimrod if you don’t think we can pull this off, Nars.”
“So you’re not even going to try this time? We’re skipping to Plan Me already?” Just under the thin gold plating of his mask, Nars smiles. The long fake nose attached to the front of his face makes him look like a devious heron, prowling about in the marshes for fish to catch.
“Why fix what isn’t broken?”
“For fear of breaking something else,” laughs Alla, joining them. She uses a long braid to pull the edge of Terence’s hat over his eyes. Nars leans through the hole in the tent, and points out their target, about to board the Flying Festival with Chester.
“What’s the lowdown on Strawberry Shortcake?”
“She’s here with one of Noel’s prodigies. And I have explicit orders to keep the likes of you two away from the new carnivalettes. Cabs will be furious if anything happens that turns them around.”
“Aww, come on, Alla,” pleads Terence, elbowing Nars and laughing. “We’re just gonna have some fun with them, that’s all.”
“I mean it, you two,” the Bearded Lady says, raising an eyebrow. Terence steps back for fear of it growing in size. “No funny business. These two are just as much my project as they are Noel’s. So play nice.”
“Got an interest in them, I see,” Nars says as he passes by. He lifts the tent flap for Terence, who’s gone in a flash. “Well, we’ll just see who they like better at the end of the day, huh?”
“Challenge accepted,” scoffs Alla, rolling her eyes. As Nars leaves, his large red shoes squeaking, Patty enters.
“What was that all about?”
“I’m just going to see what they’re like, is all. Chester and Chari.”
“You’re worried Golda likes spending time with them more now?”
“No,” Alla laughs. She waggles her fingers in the air to dismiss the comment. She then pulls on the bottom of her beard, and like a taut carpet, it rolls back into her chin, disappearing. “Okay, maybe a little. But I’m fun, too, right? I mean, look at my hair. It juggles.”
“You don’t need to prove yourself to anyone, Alla,” Patty says innocently.
“Nah, I guess not.” As she says this, the Unbearded Lady’s straight edge hair curls into gorgeous red locks. The ends are faintly tipped with orange highlights. “Even if I’m always working and telling people what to do?”
“They’d be lost without you.”
“Thanks, Patty. Now we should probably go make sure those two don’t get into trouble.”
“Chester and Chari, or Nars and Terence?”
“I haven’t quite figured out yet. Let’s go.”

*****

As the carousel turns merrily on its roundabout course, Chari Beleran begins to think the following things: that the horses on the ride weren’t nearly as soft as the ones back home, and that they were far slipperier and that she was going to fall off them, and finally that the carnival lights were too bright and that they were a sickening, ill shade of yellow.
The people staring indulgently at her as she passed by again and again didn’t help anything either. She knew why they were crowding around the ride, and she felt more like a menagerie attraction than Chester’s date.
He was seated just behind her, so near the edge of the horse that if he leaned back he would probably slide off its tail. His arms, warm with the down of young adolescence, were wrapped around her on either side. She was sure he meant to be sweet, but more than anything she was falling into a bout of claustrophobia.
His breath against the back of her neck startles her. Around and around the carousel goes.
“This is kind of nice. Just us. No school or teachers to worry about.”
She smiles in reply, her beautiful, beady black eyes staring at a spot on his shoulder, just out of reach of his sleepy gaze. They were pressed close to each other, and each time the horse whinnied higher, she could feel the air leave his chest. He puts his forehead to her hair, and chuckles.
“I’m having a really good time here with you. I don’t think I’m ever leaving.”
“Don’t say things like that. We have to come back sometime.”
“But let’s enjoy this, for now. Did I tell you about the last time I was here?”
“You, Jethro, and Elise rode the Ferris Wheel. Yes, I remember.”
Chester’s eyes are now closed, absorbing every sensation and riveting color in his mind, oblivious to the rest of the world standing in wait around them. Chari wonders when the ride is going to come to a stop. She can see that two of the carnies have joined the ranks of her ever present admirers, and an inexplicable dread falls over her.
One of them was in a baseball cap, and he was looking straight at her – as straight as he could with the carousel turning. His companion was a masquerade clown, dark skin contrasting elegant checkered white attire. The clown’s mask was golden, and the carousel lights swam in reflection across it. He tilts his chin to her, bringing up the tip of his mask’s curved aquiline nose.
“Jethro tried to ask Elise to prom. Epic fail,” Chester grunts. Chari can feel his hand sliding over her shoulders, caressing her. “How about you? Any plans? Because if not, I was thinking of going with you.”
“Me?” squeaks Chari. Her chest tightens as Chester gets closer. The sun has set halfway over the horizon, and the earthy browns and oranges were grappling with cobalt and rose for dominion of the sky. “Really?”
“Everything’s all topsy-turvy now. But when I’m with you, I feel home.”
Chari turns her head, heart pounding so loud that it swallows up the calliope music and all the voices around her. Chester’s nose meets her cheek, and his fingers begin to intertwine with hers. He was pulling her closer.
“Stop! Stop, stop, just stop it!” she cries, breaking free of his embrace. She hops off the horse, and Chester loses his balance, falling onto the floor. Chari scrambles out of the ride, clearing the fence with surprising ease, and Chester can only watch, stupefied, as she disappears into the crowd.
Terence smirks, and discreetly slaps Nars a high fve. The clown’s eyes stop glowing, and a contented smile forms on his lips.

*****

Yvanne steps icily into the hallway, snapping on the lights. She flinches for a moment at the foreboding numbers painted in what seemed like black tar on the wall – all 5’s, sharp and menacing. She shoots her cousin a look – boiling but also melted – and begins walking.
There were so many things she could’ve said. She had meant to be proud of her new, important position in The Establishment. She would’ve been glowing as she had introduced Claud to her new office, her new desk, and all the glittery things with which she’d decorated it. She would’ve beamed at the enormous new paycheck she’d been awarded.
They would’ve gone shopping together to celebrate.
But Claud had been right. She was a different kind of girl than Yvanne. Tougher, grittier. Yvanne prayed that would be enough to get her through what was about to happen.
“What are we doing here on this island?” scoffs Claud. She passes some sullen looking people behind glass walls. These were prison cells. “God, Yvanne, where are we?”
“This is Level Five. We keep the most dangerous ones here.”
“What? Who are these people?”
Yvanne places a frigid hand on frigid glass, and sighs. She whirls around to face Claud.
“You wanted to be left alone. So I’m…following orders. Like any dowdy secretary would.” At this, her lip quivers. “Claud, I can’t let you run off again. Believe it or not, I care about you, ‘cuz, so I’m going to do what’s best for you.”
Her fingers dance over the keypad, and the cell unlocks. Several guards enter the hall, and begin to walk toward them. They crack their knuckles as they approach.
“My boss, Desi… She doesn’t like your kind. The specials. And she is going to do terrible things to them. If she found out that you were one, she wouldn’t spare you. She hates me, you know. I have to go through this every day to earn enough money to take care of both of us. Of you. I put up with that monster because I am a grown-up, and grown-ups need to make tough decisions. I didn’t want to have to do this.”
“Do what?” cries Claud, as two guards grab her by the wrists, cuffing them together. A blindfold comes over her eyes just as they begin to glow.
“Desi would torture you for information on the carnival if she knew you’d been dealing with them. The moment you make another escape and she finds out, you’re screwed. This is all I can do to keep you away from them.”
“So you’re locking me up here?! Yvanne!” wails Claud as the guards shove her into the room. She manages to throw herself up into a kneeling position, but as she opens her mouth again, the door slams shut. Her frantic shrieks are lost behind the glass.
“I’m tossing you out of the fire into the frying pan. I’ve scrapped your profile in the database. She won’t ask any more questions if you’re already behind bars. She probably won’t even notice you.”
Yvanne locks the code in, and swallows. The saliva feels like acid down her throat.
“I’m doing this to keep you safe. You don’t wanna see that, I get it, so fine. Wear that blindfold and stay put. Until you learn some respect.”
Claudine slumps to the floor, and the cloth around her eyes stains with her tears. She bangs her head once on the cold steel, and then continues to sob. By this time, her cousin has arrived at the end of the hallway. She takes one last look at the cell holding Claudine, kills the lights, then closes the door.
Gently. Slowly. Until it clicks shut.

*****

Chari darts through dozens of nameless, faceless people, pushing them aside as if they were blades of withered grass. Her frantic escape takes her straight to the door of the House of Mirrors; what little daylight remains is quickly engulfed within. She steps back, and begins to turn around, breath still wild and uncontrolled, and comes face to face with Nars.
“Hello there, miss,” he says in a low voice, almost growling. He takes one step forward, giant shoes squeaking, and holds up one gloved hand for her to shake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
As he approaches, Chari makes the mistake of looking into his eyes. Fire glows around the edges of his irises, tiny purple embers that rob her of oxygen. Her knees knock together, and she stumbles backward.
“What’s the matter?” Nars asks, looking past her into the hall. “Afraid of the dark?”
Those last words set off Chari’s trembling legs, and she bolts without direction or reason straight into the House of Mirrors. Her reflections loom over her in the dim light of the incandescent bulbs, shrinking and growing with her every move. As she approaches a fork in the maze, Nar’s ghostly image leaps out at her from all sides.
Outside, Chester can see Chari’s horrified scream as a fountain of ragged white and pink sparks coming from a distant rooftop. He races toward her, all new levels of fear thumping in his chest. What’d he do wrong? What was happening to her?
Preoccupied with all these thoughts, he runs straight into Noel, who props him up by the shoulders as he trips.
“There you go. Something wrong, Chester?”
Just then Chari screams again.
“Shit, man, it’s Chari. She took off from the carousel and now she’s freaking out. I have to get to her.”
Noel frowns, just as Alla rushes by. He manages to grab a tangled ponytail, and gently yanks her back. “Didn’t I say -”
“I’m sorry, Cabs,” the Bearded Lady says, out of breath. “Nars and Terence, they uhm, they saw Chari run into the House of Mirrors, and now she’s supposedly too scared to even move. I’m on my way to get her out now, I swear.”
“Hold on a second,” Noel coughs. “This moment belongs to Chester. Just go join those two imbeciles and tell them I’m on my way.”
Alla looks over the crowd, and wrinkles her nose. Her hair grows to enormous lengths, braiding and intertwining, and she lifts herself over the sea of people, fifteen, twenty feet high. Her hair begins to move forward, and like a spider, she takes long strides in the direction of the House of Mirrors.
“Dumb and dumber, ooh, you’re going to get a month’s worth of kitchen duty for this!”
Noel turns to Chester, who all this time has been fighting his grip to get to Chari.
“Have you figured out your powers yet, Chester?”
“No, there’s no time!” he groans. The ringmaster’s callous hands steady him, and he bends down on one knee to look Chester in the eye.
“You’re more than just a synesthete. You can draw people to you with your music. You can move the masses with the beats, with the melody. Use your power to guide Chari out.”
“What? How am I supposed to make music?”
Noel ducks into his tent, and emerges carrying an aged cajon under his arm. It looks similar to Chester’s, but its colors are faded and the wood seems far more worn. The boy’s eyebrows knot in surprise.
“A beat-box?” Chester says, the truth dawning over him as the sun finally sets. “Then it was you. You sent me the cajon.”
“It was a gift, from the November Carnival.”
NC, Chester thinks. Noel Cabauatan. Of course. Noel wades through the crowd, one muscled arm hooked around the instrument, another waving to his protégé.
“Hurry!”

*****

Thump.
Chester’s first strike at the wood ends in a dull, lifeless beat. The coffee color washes into the air, tired and pale. He looks to his new mentor for advice, and Noel stoops over. A steady hand pats him on the back, and Chester feels his nervous insides rattle.
“You have to feel the weight of your music. Somewhere in those haunted halls, the girl you care about is backed against a wall, waiting for someone to save her. Be her hero, Chester. Focus your thoughts on Chari.”
Frustrated, Chester runs a quivering hand through his short hair. He licks his lips, and begins to tap his feet. Quietly first, then louder, faster. He raises his hand in the air, and then brings it down on the wood. His other hand, clenched into a fist, follows, falling into the rhythm.
Tug-dug, pak! Tugu-dugudug pak! Tug-dug, pak! Tugu-dugudug pak!
Chester barely even notices the intensity of the colors he generates; as each ring blends into the next, and the thumping grows louder, the hues saturate and absorb each other, creating fantastic russet ribbons and cerise stars that travel inward, into the heart of the mirrors. He can only see Chari, her delicate vision frightened, hopeless, trapped. He was going to get her out.
Inside the hall, Chari lifts her head, drying her tears. Her arms, frozen from the bone out, begin to feel prickly and warm, the way they would under the morning sun. Like snow, her terror melts away, and she rises to full height.
Tug-dug, pak! Tugu-dugudug pak! Tug-dug, pak! Tugu-dugudug pak!
She doesn’t know where she’s going; all she has is the sound of the cajon - powerful, aggressive - to lead her back into open air. She closes her eyes, letting her feet choose their own path, threading the music along like Ariadne and her ball of string. She knew it was Chester, she knew he was there. She knew he would be waiting at the exit.
And she wasn’t afraid of his touch anymore; she needed his embrace. The memory of his breath on her neck draws her forward, onward, out.
At last she feels the cool breeze funnel by. She takes a few more tentative steps, and emerges into the softer lights of the carnival. At the bottom of the steps, standing by a proudly beaming Noel and the aged cajon, is Chester.
“Hey. Welcome back.”
Chari rushes forward, and buries her head in his shoulders. He wraps his arms around her, and hushes her nervous sniffling. The dozen or so people also drawn by the music cheer loudly.
“You had me scared there for a while.”
Alla walks over to them; suspended in the air on either side of her are Terence and Nars, ankles caught in nooses of her mighty hair. “I’m sorry these guys caused so much trouble.”
“It’s okay,” Chari says, smiling at her. The Bearded Lady’s shoulders relax, and she smiles back. “The carnival was interesting, and all, but…I just feel like heading home now.”
“You’ll be back,” grins Noel, tilting his chin in salute to them.
Chester inhales deeply, and nods. The city lights flicker in the distance.
“You can count on it.”