Marionette

It could well be a bus ride to hell, but at least she would be burning and screaming without anyone telling her what to do. It was still an escape, one that she might not survive. ​ It was a mostly uneventful ride, though. Most of the other passengers were tired middle-aged men and women, one young family with a well-behaved baby, and a sullen-looking girl who looked about eight. The whole thing was almost dreamlike, but it was probably because of the Valium she took before she fled home. ​ The girl couldn’t possibly be more than eighteen, but she was actually twenty-one. She looked younger and thinner, wearing a red dress with a white Peter Pan collar and lace frills at the bottom hem. It was her first ride all alone, and the night air was unfamiliar, cold, and frightening, but she didn’t have a choice. ​ “Where to, miss?” the bus conductor asked, his voice cracking a little. He was around fourteen years old, thin, and dirty. She wondered whether the driver was his father and whether he was still in school. ​ “Crow’s Nest Circus,” she replied without hesitation. Her massive brown trunk carried clothes, books, and a poster announcing the circus’s opening. It sat in the space to her left, closer to the window. The circus only came to Edgefield three months a year, from October to December. Only members could experience it throughout the year. “I’ll pay for the other seat.” ​ The boy didn’t ask any questions then, although his eyes flashed with interest. He kept his mouth shut, gave her two tickets, and she paid accordingly. She’d taken as much money as she could from home, stuffing bills in her fancy leather wallet and the inner pockets of her luggage. Her bra even held some bills, for emergencies. Even though she was naive, she wasn’t an i***t. She’d read the papers and watched the news and knew a bit about the world. She had some jewels, too, placed in her little music box. Instead of a ballerina, hers held a marionette. ​ Her mother would be waking up from her drug-addled stupor in about an hour, and she would no doubt be screaming her name. ​ “Alice! Where the f**k are you, you little thieving b***h?” ​ Alice wouldn’t cry. She had done a lot of it through the years. When she turned sixteen, her tears ran dry, but the pain got worse. ​ “You’ll get there by midnight,” the boy said. She realized that he lingered by her side, his grimy face looking worried. “Do you have a place to stay there? Surely, you’re not visiting it during an ungodly hour?” ​ He spoke like an old man, too serious for his young age. She was sure that he kept mostly old people for company. Her heart went out to him, and she felt a strong kinship with him. More likely, this boy had dropped out of school years ago, and this bus was almost a home to him now. ​ “No. I’m not there for a show. Someone’s expecting me.” Her melodic voice seemed to calm the boy a little. There was a dreamy look on his face as he subconsciously leaned to his left as if tilting his ear closer to the young woman. ​ Her words were half a lie, and they could well be prompted by a fever dream. She was taking a big risk, but anything was better than staying with her mother. ​ “What’s that?” ​ Damn it. He was still there, watching her. He must have taken everyone’s payments already and was making small talk. ​ “What?” she echoed. ​ “Those? Around your wrists?” He even pointed at the red bruises around her wrists. She rubbed them, defensively pulling her sleeves down to cover them up. ​ “N-nothing.” ​ “I know what you’re thinking. I’m a boy out of school, but don’t worry about me. My Pa is a good one. We just don’t have money for school. I try to read books at home. If you need help, just look for me. I’m Fred. The bus passes by the carnival every midnight on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and at noontime on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. We take a break on the Lord’s Day.” ​ It was a Friday. ​ Alice’s mouth quivered when she heard the term "the Lord’s Day." Her mother often quoted Bible passages, but that never made her a good woman. She was the opposite, even though she claimed that her daughter was the spawn of hell. Maybe she was right. After all, she was her mother’s child. ​ “Thanks for caring, Fred. I’ll remember that. If I need help, I know who to call.” Alice meant it. She really did. She nodded and smiled, and the boy knew that he had been dismissed. ​ Alice drifted off to sleep, sinking into a dream that she had been having since she turned eighteen, except it wasn’t always a dream. She was certain that he had been there with her three times. She felt him. He made her delirious with passion. ​ “Do you want me to touch you, Alice?” the man asked. He was sitting in the shadows, his broad shoulders and powerful body clearly outlined. She knew he was handsome, even though she could only see his eyes. Were they grey? Blue? She wanted to twist her fingers into his curls. She couldn’t understand why her body was responding to a stranger. ​ “Touch? Where?” Her voice was far from innocent, even though she was a virgin, her mother’s little doll. When her legs spread for him, they both knew that she was lost. ​ It was just a touch, fingertips tracing her seam through her cotton panties, but it was everything for the girl who knew only pain. He knew where to rub her, how fast she liked it. She didn’t even know that she would like it until he came. ​ “Are you real?” ​ “Is this real enough, Alice?” he asked, slipping in a finger to rub her wetness over her c**t. The circles he made there spun the world she was in, and even with no experience, her hips moved in a filthy dance. ​ Maybe her mother was right. She had a demon in her, and that was why she needed to be controlled. Doused with holy water. Whipped. ​ “Yes.” ​ “Do you want me to tie you down, princess?” ​ “I’m not a f*****g princess.” ​ “Does your mother know you have a filthy mouth?” ​ “Only with you. My mouth is filthy only with you. What’s your name?” ​ He didn’t answer. He just continued f*****g her with his finger until her vision blurred. ​ The man visited her three days after every birthday that followed. The dreams were more frequent but not as pleasurable. Whenever her mother hit her, she would think of him instead. ​ Alice felt someone pushing her right shoulder. She opened her eyes and saw Fred standing next to her again, his right index finger prodding her gently. She hoped that she hadn’t moaned in her sleep. She dreamed of the man again, but she knew he was real. While the dreams were more frequent, he had only visited her three times before. It was always three days after her birthday. ​ Three days after her twentieth, she thought he was going to finally take her. She at least saw half his face emerge from the shadows. It was a handsome face. He looked like a tanned angel with a straight nose, full lips, and grey eyes. His brown hair was curly and soft. Her dream lover looked like he was in his mid-twenties. She was willing to give him her virginity, but he didn’t take it then. He left a poster, though, and Alice took it as an invitation and a means of escape. It was the Crow’s Nest Circus poster. ​ “You’re here.” ​ “I am?” Alice looked around and saw that she was the only passenger left on the bus. The circus was the last stop. It was dark outside, and she could only see the outlines of the tents. ​ “Do you need help with your luggage?” ​ “Um,” she hesitated. Fred’s Pa, the driver, had helped her get it up the bus. “Yeah, I guess. Just to get it on the ground. Then, I can drag it from there.” ​ “Okay. I’ll help you,” he said, grinning at her. She imagined that he’d become a handsome man one day if he kept his teeth white like he somehow managed them, and maybe if he gained a few more pounds. She smiled back. ​ Once the luggage was set on the ground, Alice fumbled for some money to give Fred. She pushed the bill into his hand, and he paled a little as if they were doing something wrong. ​ “I can’t take this.” ​ “I’m a rich woman, Fred. Take it. But you promised that you would be on the lookout for me every time the bus passes by the circus.” ​ He nodded grudgingly then, and the two young people parted ways after Fred’s Pa hollered his name. ​ Alone in the darkness, Alice dragged her luggage toward the circus. A man stood in the darkness, tall and broad-shouldered. ​ Was it him? Was it her dream lover? ​