The Seam Sorceress

Rare Specimens, part 1.

"We can come back for your things later," GP said as he helped her from the truck. There was a smile and a question in his eyes. "It's a little too warm for a cloak just yet, isn't it?"

"Maybe a little." Like a child with a beloved blanket, Tilly's fingers curled in the garment's over-sized hood protectively and shrank away from his grasp. "But the nights are getting colder, sure enough."

"You can feel it too, then." Once Booger was out of the cab, GP shut the door and took a deep, bracing breath that swelled his shoulders. "There's always something in the air—a whisper, almost, that runs through the late summer breeze."

Tilly grinned. "Like magic."

"Yeah." He hopped down a shallow bank. "A lot like magic."

From her vantage point, she could see that the previous night's incident had done little to deter the people of Coleville from partaking in the festivities. The calliope still played and the smell of cinnamon-sugar wafted in from some nearby stand. In fact, the only evidence that the runaway ride had not just been some daydream Tilly had cooked up between chores was its pointed absence in the fair skyline. "So where's this audition gonna be?"

"Near the concessions, I hope," Booger murmured.

"You know, for somebody who seemed fairly reluctant about all this, you sure are in a hurry," GP laughed. "We've got some time to burn. You wanna clean up a bit before seeing the boss?"

She came to such an abrupt stop that Booger crashed head-first into the back of her shins. Frowning, Tilly pulled her skirts taut to examine her mary janes for any potential scuffs, but they looked fine to her. "Beg your pardon, but I kinda thought I was already cleaned up."

"Oh, you look fine." GP tucked his hands in his pockets as they strolled through a village of trailers. "It's just that first impressions are important. You wanna put your best foot forward, don't you?"

"Of course, but," she paused thoughtfully, fingers running along the length of chain at her neck, "shouldn't my work speak for itself?"

"Sure, sure," he murmured. They walked in silence for a while. "Gee, I didn't mean to offend. I just thought every girl liked to feel pretty once in a while."

"Well, that's true enough." Her thoughts went to the pale-face girl waiting for her in the dwarven mirror. "I guess I would like to feel pretty."

All the lights of the midway paled in comparison to GP's face in that moment. He reached out for Tilly's hand. "C'mon, then. Lav's gonna love you, I just know it."

The last trailer on the row skirted so close to the fair that half of it was covered by a striped tent to serve as an impromptu stage. A team of carnies were testing out flood lighting and setting up lines of metal folding chairs. One of them smiled and thumbed the brim of his cap in greeting to Tilly before GP took her by the hand to lead her up the stairs.

Upon first breath inside, she nearly choked, eyes burning. The trailer smelled like a rich old lady whose nose had given out before her pocketbook. The layers of expensive floral perfume didn't entirely mask the smell of cigarettes past, the ghost of which still haunted the seams between ceiling and flocked wallpaper. The once-white-and-pink damask had turned a subtle, jaundiced yellow.

Tilly blinked. Booger sneezed.

"Hello, hello...!" A musical voice called beyond a beaded veil that stretched across the room. "Rodrigo, is that you, honey?"

"Not quite." GP waded through the peach-colored shag carpeting to part the curtain. "Sorry to disappoint."

"You ain't never a disappointment, darling," the voice answered, before giving a thoughtful pause. "Goodness, ain't you just a strapping thing these days. What's little Jenny been feeding you?"