Lily stepped purposefully across the train tracks, unused since the Frye Lettuce Company had closed their doors two years ago, in 1936. Her feet ached in their patched, dusty shoes and her mouth was drier than cotton. As she paused to rub the small of her back, her eyes lit upon something laying in a patch of dried-up crabgrass. She wouldn't have seen it, except it caught a glint from the setting sun.
It was a fifty-cent piece.
Lily rubbed her eyes to make certain she wasn't imagining it, but it remained. She scooped up her find and noted that it was a 1935 Walking Liberty half-dollar. She hadn't seen one of these since before the hard times had come to her family. Since before Papa died of a broken neck, and Mama died of a broken heart. And Jimmy had gone insane from The Knowing.
Lily dimly recalled what Uncle Luc had told her long ago, one day as she was climbing trees and skipping stones. He found her in the orchard and, after a stone-skipping contest (which he let her win), said,
"Darling Lily, you are a very special girl. In time, those around you will discover your unique gifts and particular talents," here, he laughed, "
however they will also learn of your greedy nature." And then he had gone, and Lily continued to splash in the creek bed, unmindful of Uncle Luc's dire prophesy.
She pocketed the silver piece and continued her path, her mind set on memories from long ago. A small smile playing on her lips from time to time as she came across a particularly pleasant recollection. An hour later, just as the sun was setting, she glanced up and drew in a breath. Because up ahead was
it.
There, in the middle of a dusty, windblown acre of barren land, maybe half a mile away as the crow flies, lay a carnival. Lily took in the bright lights, and even from this distance she could dimly hear the loud brassy music and the caller, dressed in a shiny red-and-white striped suit, a black cane in his hand.
Lily sped up her steps, ignoring the throbbing in her left foot that told her that the patch-job she'd done on that shoe was done for. Because she had fifty cents and she knew exactly what that would buy her.
Freedom.
Lily was waved through the ticket booth without ever having to separate herself from her precious coin. A wink from the ticket collector told her she would be expected to pay a price later, but she already knew he wouldn't really want her. Not as she was now. Maybe later, though. As she approached the red and white striped tent, the caller stopped in the middle of his spiel and turned full around to stare at her.
She met his gaze without flinching, and he nodded slowly, before picking up where he'd left off. People hardly seemed to notice.
They never seemed to notice.
As she picked her way through the midway, a shout from a carny stopped her in her tracks.
"Hey pretty lady! Three balls for a dime!"
As she turned toward his direction, the greasy looking carny grinned. Once upon a time, he had probably been halfway attractive. His dark blond hair was carelessly tied in a ponytail at the nape of his neck, and when he smiled, his teeth were even and white. Lily purposely ignored the fact that his blue eyes were watery and bloodshot, and the fact that his face had been chapped by the sun and wind until he looked 25 years older than his 19 years.
These were hard times and he would do.
Lily took a cautious step towards his booth, then stopped in confusion as a lady wearing a spangly pink outfit rode out of the big top, astride a dashing white stallion. The lady slowed the horse until she was just in front of Lily. Lily caught a whiff of the woman's scent and began to tremble. It took all of her willpower to focus on what the beautiful lady was saying.
"....was just saying the other day to John, 'It's time. Frank needs to find himself a woman to settle down with." With a tinkling laugh, the woman rode off toward the makeshift stables at the end of the midway.
Lily glanced toward the carny. His gaze stayed on the lady and her horse until they were both inside the stables. Then he turned his attention to Lily.
"Well hello Darlin'! For such a beautiful lady as you, I'm willin' to give you three balls for a nickel!" He looked conspiratorially around them before leaning in to whisper, "Don't mind Irene. She's jealous of any girl prettier'n her."
At that, Lily raised her head, looked him straight in the eye and coolly replied, "I'm not pretty. We both know that, so please stop lying."
Frank seemed taken aback by the girl's bluntness, but he couldn't help admitting that she was right. With her lank dark hair, sallow complexion and awkward posture, she was possibly the homeliest girl he had ever laid eyes on. But she was still a girl.
Before he could reply, Lily laid her fifty-cent piece on the counter.
"I'll take ten turns, please."
Frank struggled to keep his face straight. In a year when the average man made eighty cents an hour, this dumb bitch was buying the gas for his 1929 Ford pickup for two weeks.
He set the weighted balls in front of her, and stepped back, feigning disappointment every time she failed to knock the milk cans over. Frank loved the rubes.
After an hour, Lily threw the last of the balls and missed, drawing a head shake from Frank, who pocketed the precious half-dollar at the same time.
"Ma'am, I have
never seen such a run of bad luck, and I've been with this outfit for near five years. I almost feel bad takin' your money, what with the bad times and all....." his voice seemed to trail off, and then picked up again cheerily, "...but you know what? I'm not lettin' you leave here empty-handed, no Ma'am I'm not!" And with a flourish, Frank presented Lily with a ragged stuffed animal, a leftover from hundreds of carnivals. Something that nobody had wanted. An orphan.
Lily stared at the unexpected gift blankly, "What is it?"
Frank grinned at her and stroked the fake fur, "It's a killer whale. See how it's black and white? That's to confuse its prey, make it blend in. Know what else? An old teacher once told me that killer whales aren't really whales. They're more like dolphins."
Lily carefully kept her eyes on the stuffed toy as she casually asked, "so it looks like one thing, but it's really something different? Something better?"
Frank laughed at that. He was pretty sure he knew what this homely girl was thinking. That with a little makeup and hairpins, she could be as pretty as Irene. Not in a million years, not this girl. But still, he'd been without a woman for a long stretch now, and all cats were gray in the dark, his older brother Ben had always said.
So Frank perused her slowly, making sure she knew he was doing it. He gave a low whistle when he came to her flat chest.
"Honey, you have got to have the finest set of bubs I've ever laid eyes on, and that's the Lord's truth," he said with a rueful grin.
At that, Lily looked him straight in the eye. He noted for the first time the glass-green color of them, cut through with slashes of silvery-gray here and there. Her dark lashes nearly reached the arch of her finely shaped brows. Suddenly, Frank felt himself falling, weightless and unmindful of time and space.
Much later, he felt a pair of strong hands squeezing his crotch, and he winced in pain. When Frank opened his eyes, he realized that he was laying in his tent, stripped naked. His arms and legs were tied spread-eagle and in his throat was a raging thirst. The midway was quiet, he had no idea how long he had been unconscious but he realized it had to be after midnight since the coochie tent was quiet.
"Wh-what the f*ck is goin' on?" he asked the darkness around him. At first, there was only silence, but then came a woman's laugh, deep, rich and sweet. Like port poured over crisp pears and apples. In the candlelight, Frank could make out the figure of a naked woman, naked and shapely, with dark red hair falling down her back in cascading waves. Her skin was flawless and the color of a pearl in the rippling light.
"It has been a long time since I have feasted on the flesh of a human male, but tonight my hunger will be sated. Before this night ends, you will beg me to kill you." With a hiss, she set upon him viciously and Frank screamed as he felt flesh being ripped from his bones. When he heard the snap of his right leg, as it was bent forward past the point of no return, Frank vomited the remains of his dinner onto himself.
With a high-pitched laugh, the woman seated herself upon his groin. The last thing Frank remembered before he lost consciousness was the tattoo on the creature's lower back. It was in the shape of five pointed star, and it surrounded an uncanny likeness of the carnival's caller, Willie. Only Willie's face was twisted into a sneer, and there were a set of horns coming out of his forehead.
Frank welcomed the blackness.
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Monday morning.
Frank awoke to the buzz of flies in his tent and the rich coppery smell of blood in the air. He moaned at the memory of the woman he had f*cked last night, and how crazy she had been for a man. It felt like his damn leg was broken, and he became aware of the deep scratches she'd left all over his body. A minute later, when he'd gained full consciousness, a sudden wave of nauseating pain hit him in his crotch. He looked down and saw a pool of blood and sinew where his c*ck had been. Desperately, Frank reached down with his left hand and realized his dick was gone.
Gone.
It was gone.
The full horror of what had been done to him last night sank in, and Frank heard himself scream. And scream. And scream.
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"Hey Lil! Can a guy get some eggs around here, or what?" a carney joked good-naturedly. Lil gave Joe a sideways smile as she cracked three eggs onto the hot grill and began scrambling them. The other men sat around the grill, eying lovely Lil appreciatively as they drank their coffee and ate an assortment of eggs, burgers and toast. Her Joe opened his mouth to ask for more coffee, but dropped his cup in sudden shock, his eyes wide.
Frank's shrieks ripped apart the early morning camaraderie and circus workers ran from near and far towards his tent. Several men ran out of the tent as quickly as they had entered, retching.
Ignoring the pandemonium, Lil began patting out the burgers that would be served at lunchtime, her lovely red hair tied in a knot at the back of her neck. Last night, in a streak of good fortune, she had been hired to work at the carnival. During the day she would cook, but that wasn't where the real money was. The real money, and other things, would come to her at night.
Because at night, she would run the rube's game, taking Frank's place. Lil looked down at the ground and a small smile played about her red lips. There, on the ground, was a 1935 Walking Liberty half-dollar. Without missing a beat she bent over to pick it up, causing the lightweight shirt she wore to fall upwards, revealing the tattoo on the small of her back.
It was in the shape of a pentagram, with a drawing of Uncle Luc in the center.
As she pocketed the half-dollar Lilith hummed a little tune, oblivious to the screams of the man in the tent and the shouts of those around her.
Freedom.
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This was an Indie Ink writing challenge from
Ixy. It had to include a furry whale, a tattoo and a succubus.
