Dancing in the Dark

Chapter 5: Stolen

"He's watching the train and carriage," Jace responded. Jace was the opposite of Beatrice, fair with light skin and blonde hair. He was also not one for muscle and tended to make jokes of everything. almost everyone in the circus knew Jace loved for Beatrice. Besides Beatrice, of course. If she did, she didn't pay attention to it. Hazel spared a glance at Cleo. He was a tall, muscular man who liked to wear stripes and pretend he was a sailor. Cleo had a twin brother, Elijah, and they used to be on attraction for the audience. When they got replaced by the Chet twins, Cleo worked on the rail and picked up the equipment. Elijah ran away when he turned seventeen, and rumor had it he was a news-writer now. Hazel checked back into the conversation, hearing Beatrice's foul words fill the air.

"Those bloody bastards cannot watch their own equipment? What a damned Dicken!" she spat seeds from between her teeth and Hazel folded her legs to her chest quietly, staring at her.

"What are you looking at you boot-licker?" she growled, and Hazel's cheeks burned.

"Hey, Beatrice, stop!" Oliver admonished, pushing her shoulder not unfriendly.

"What? She spends her time running after them, especially that god forsaken son, cash carrier," she growled, and Hazel realized that Beatrice had just called her a whore.

"That's not true! Liar!" Hazel hated that her voice broke and tears welled in her eyes instead of anger spilling from her mouth.

"What are you going to do about it you filthy dolly mop?" Beatrice grinned and crossed her arms, pitching an eyebrow. Hazel threw herself forward and slapped Beatrice in the face, pinning her down underneath her. In the fearless eyes of Beatrice, Hazel saw only herself, her own body under her trembling and screaming. She sat back but Beatrice grabbed her wrists and pulled her closer, her face close to hers. Beatrice's hot breath danced on Hazel's skin.

When she squeezed her wrists and whispered, "Remember this moment when a man tries to steal from you what is yours," she hissed forcefully, and threw Hazel back.

Hazel fell to her bottom and Oliver and Jace stared at her. Jace was trying to hide a smile, sparing glances at Beatrice.

"Are you alright Hazel?" Oliver asked, and Hazel nodded quickly.

"Yes, I am fine."

She listened to the bunch talk about circus gossip and more dirt of Neal and Henry.

Hazel let her eyes trail over the members in Magical Feet. She would not miss any of them. She could hardly put name to face. She didn't even think she would miss Oliver much. Immediately she felt guilty, even more so when he offered her some pumpkin bread. She smiled and accepted, chewing.

Neal and Henry were sprawled under a tree, they were laughing and Henry was smoking a cigar. Neal was speaking fast and animatedly. Hazel wondered where Neal's mother was. They were similar in that way, mother-less. Hazel then imagined how it would be to have a horrible father rather than no father at all. Sighing, she turned a heavy heart to the bunch.

"We heard you were escaping," Beatrice said, lowering her voice and bringing her head closer. Hazel glanced at Oliver and he blushed bashfully.

"I was. But I do not know anymore."

Beatrice shrugged, "When were you going to leave?" she asked, and Oliver said,

"Christmas night."

Hazel snapped her attention to him. She hadn't even realized it was Christmas when she was to depart. If she did.

"Good luck," Beatrice said, and Hazel smiled, knowing that under her hard exterior, there was a soft, sweet girl.

"Thank you," Hazel said softly back, and resumed her quietness. The picnic lasted all day and into the dark night. Performers got drunk and started to whisper tenderly into the night. The Freaks laughed and whooped. Henry watched with entertained expressions planted on their faces. Hazel watched some performers assemble on their own, bringing their partners with them. The acrobats started to swing up in the trees and land softly on the floor. The clowns honked their noses and giggled. Some started an egg dance and Hazel watched in awe. Painted by the dark sky, the figures in a moon blue suit were illuminated by eggs that glowed, balancing in mid-air. Hazel's breath caught in her throat, watching the glowing orb dance in the air. A warm hand crawled over to hers and laced their fingers with her own. Hazel looked down at Oliver's knuckles. She couldn't help but feel that a man's touch was a dangerous one. She withdrew quickly and Oliver looked up. The eggs turned their way, illuminating his heartbroken brown eyes. Hazel looked away, hating herself for causing him any pain. He cleared his throat and stood up, weaving his way through the crowd of performers watching. Hazel stared at his back as he walked, and turned back to the illuminating eggs. They were no longer orbs. They looked more like tears now.