Burlap

11 - Dance Halls Turn To Ghost Towns

“Hello, Katherine Thornton,” Ernie greeted as soon as I followed my ward mates into the gymnasium. I threw him a small, chaste smile that I hoped portrayed politeness without interest, and hurried to stay close to John and George. Ernie’s creepy grin widened as I rushed past him, and he turned his head to follow my movements.   

Betraying my desire to keep Marcie from being uncomfortable, I slipped my hand into John’s and stayed as close to his side as I could. My skin prickled in goosebumps all over my body at Ernie’s disconcerting attention. Every alarm in my head rang off at an ear splitting volume in his presence.    “We’re going to stretch and play some soccer today. Everyone spread-”  

His slimy voice was cut off as the door to the gym opened, revealing the pretty little receptionist from the first floor. She smiled at us all and waved to Ernie.   

“Three of your residents have visitors today,” she chirped, cheerful energy seeping from every pore in her body as she bounced on the balls of her feet. I found myself envying her carefree, happy exuberance. But, all too soon I realized what she said, and what it would mean for me. She slipped a pink paper from the pocket of her pleated skirt and scanned it before reading off the names. My breath caught in my throat as I prayed I wouldn’t be left alone without John or at least George to buffer me from Ernie’s creep factor.   

“John Kingwood,” she called. My heart sank in my chest as he gave my hand a final squeeze and walked toward the woman.   

“George Baker.” Fear rose in my throat. My two main protectors were gone, leaving me to fend off Ernie by myself. I glanced over at the Physical Activity director, seeing his smile widen further as he no doubt realized it also.   

“Kate Thornton.”   

I blinked.   

“Miss Thornton? Is she present today or is she sick?” the receptionist asked, her delicate features marred with confusion as she looked over each of our faces for recognition.   

“I-I’m here!” I cried as I scampered toward her, desperate to leave the gymnasium though I was sure my name being called was a mistake. Everyone I’d known in my entire life I’d killed several months ago. There was literally no one who could even come to visit me.   

The three of us followed the young receptionist down to the first floor, none of us speaking as I wracked my brain for someone, anyone, who would possibly come to see me. My lawyer had no reason, seeing how I’d already been sentenced, and the performers were dead. My mother had died when I was just four, and it was sheer luck that had led Robbie’s father to me at the orphanage. I had few memories prior to Jensen and Sons. All I knew came directly from my adoption file, which Robbie had given to me after his father’s death some years ago. The fact that Mr. Jensen, whose first name I didn’t even know, was legally my father was strange and unorthodox for a circus. But, he’d never acted as a fatherly figure. Just the boss. The trainer. The ring master.   

We halted outside a large wooden door with a glass cutout. The receptionist inserted a key into the doorknob and shooed us inside, closing and locking the door behind us. Within seconds an orderly approached us and took us, one by one, to three separate tables of the dozen or so scattered around the room. I watched, wringing my hands together as my nerves grew more and more strained with anticipation.   

George was taken first. The orderly sat him down at the table farthest from the exit and clicked his wrists into the handcuffs attached to the table. George waited for the orderly to walk away before he slumped down in his chair, obviously not pleased with the situation.   

He escorted me to another table in the opposite corner from George, doing the same routine with the handcuffs, making sure I couldn’t slide my thin wrists from the shackles before he left and did the same with John at another table close to the door and walking out. John shot me a reassuring smile, trying to comfort me as we waited for the orderly to return.