Every fall, the carnival comes to Chrystal Heights.
The carnival sits away from the city limits proper. This is ostensibly so the lights and noise doesn't bother the residents, but everyone knows it's actually so as to allow the comings and goings to remain a matter of personal business. After all, say the many, what happens at the carnival should stay with the carnival.
It's an ordinary carnival in many respects. Once you step inside the gates, you will be assaulted with a variety of noises and aromas. You will hear music, screaming children and carnies hawking game challenges. A deep breath will reveal the presence of cotton candy and popcorn stands. Lights and flashes will tickle the edges of your vision. It might be the same carnival it was thirty years previous, and it could easily be the same carnival twenty years from now. It is, after all, an ordinary carnival in many respects.
Of course, it's also an unusual carnival in many respects. One can expect no less from a carnival that travels between Chrystal Heights and Darkview on a regular basis.
Many of the more unusual elements can be found in the southern section of the carnival. There isn't as much traffic here. People tend to walk this area with purpose, as opposed to aimless wandering. Proprietors wait in tents for customers, rather than hawking passers-by. Lights and music are still present, but they simply register as background static. One might say this is a more functional arrangement within the carnival, with more business and less eye-candy. It is sometimes called The Magic Theatre, but quietly, and usually in jest.
Usually.
*****
COME SEE THE AMAZING QUINCY, ILLUSIONIST EXTRAORDINAIRE!
Adult show. No one under 18 admitted.
Carmen studied the weather-beaten, hand-painted sign. It was the only item set up that suggested there was anything at all happening inside the tent. It seemed an understated method of advertising the show and certainly not the norm for a carnival setting. At least, not in Carmen's twenty-two years of living.
Carmen had wandered the length of the fair looking for this show. Her dark, exotic eyes had taken in everything. Children licking ice cream cones and squealing in delight when they saw the bumper cars. Young couples walking hand-in-hand, reveling in each other's company. Grandparents sitting on benches while the kids ran to get in line for the rides. The food aromas that brought the fair to life- popcorn, cotton candy, caramel apples, hamburgers, hotdogs, sausages, elephant ears and so many others- permeated the carnival as a whole. Bells sounded, merry-go-round music played, sharp pops and sudden cheers when someone scored a win in the dart and balloon games...it was a festive setting. But here in the southern section of the carnival, there was a subtle difference in the ambiance. Something indefinable.
COME SEE THE AMAZING QUINCY, ILLUSIONIST EXTRAORDINAIRE!
Adult show. No one under 18 admitted.
Carmen walked forward and split the tent flaps with her hand. She stepped inside and waited for her eyes to adjust.
A bored-looking blonde stood just inside the opening. She wore a sparkling red stage outfit, complete with fishnet stockings and red high heels. The smell of cigarette smoke hung heavy in the enclosed tent.
"You're just in time," said the blonde. "The show's about to start."
Carmen's eyes swept the wooden benches set in rows in front of the stage. They were half-filled.
"Is this a big crowd?" asked Carmen. She held out her entry fee.
The blonde took the money, then shrugged. "About average," she said. "Maybe a little more on weekends."
"Perhaps you would get more," said Carmen, "if you actually set up a display outside."
The blonde stuck the bill inside a cigar box and closed it. "Probably," she said, "But Quincy doesn't want that."
Carmen nodded.
The blonde set the box down and tied the tent flaps together. "Enjoy the show," she said.
Carmen smiled. She had every intention of enjoying the show. The man going by the stage name of "Quincy", however, might not enjoy it so much.
"Thank you," said Carmen. "I'm sure I will."
*****
A redhead in a blue sparkly outfit stepped out onto the stage. "Ladies and gentlemen," she said, "presenting...the Amazing Quincy!"
There was a smattering of applause as Quincy walked out. Quincy wore a wrinkled black tuxedo that appeared to have passed its expiration date. A threadbare top hat sat on his head and his chin was covered with grey bristles. He appeared to be in his late forties or early fifties.
"Thank you for the introduction, Caroline," said Quincy. "Say, your hair color is really pretty. But why is it so short?"
Caroline's face took on a distressed expression. "The hair dresser messed up when she was doing my hair, Quincy," she said. "She had to cut most of it off to make it look right."
"Wow, that's too bad," said Quincy, his voice deadpan. "I bet you wish you could get it fixed."
The redhead nodded mournfully. "I do, Quincy!" she said. "It'll take *forever* to grow back."
Quincy looked vaguely thoughtful. "Maybe I can help," he said.
Caroline looked skeptical. "Really, Quincy? But how?" she said.
Quincy rubbed his chin. Then he reached out and lay his hand on Caroline's shoulder.
Nothing happened for several heartbeats. Then fiery curls began flowing over her shoulders and down her back as Caroline's hair grew. Red locks soon covered her back all the way down to her waist.
The audience had gasped at the unexpected hair growth. Now they applauded as the luscious red curls reached the top of the girl's buttocks.
Caroline looked delighted. "Wow!" she said. "Thank you, Quincy!"
Quincy patted the redhead's bottom. "Think nothing of it, my dear," he said. Then he turned to face the crowd.