Crowley's Window (Novella) (3 page)

“Wow!” was all Ray could say, much happier now with the Townsend Traveling Show than he’d been ten minutes ago. Charlie didn’t say a word. Just sat still and waited to see what might happen.

“Hello boys,” the young woman said. “My name is Aurora, Mistress of the Dark. Thanks for coming to see me.”

“Hold it,” Ray said. “You’re supposed to be blind. How do you know who’s sitting here? We could be anyone. You got an assistant back there?”

“You don’t need eyes to see everything, my friend. I can hear your hearts beating faster when you look at me. I can sense your youthful aura sitting before me.” In truth, she’d just heard them giggling and chatting as they entered her tent but they didn’t need to know that. It was all part of the show. Abigail Hawkins had been doing this Aurora gig for three years now, and she was good at it.

“No offense, but I’m not buying it. Bet you can see right through that blindfold.”

“Ray!” Charlie nudged his brother, horrified he’d just said such a thing. “Don’t be so rude. I’m sorry, ma’am. I believe you. I’ve heard lots of stories about what you can do. Is it true about your hands? I heard you drew eyes on them to help you see.”

The fortune teller smiled. It was amazing how the stories got around. “I started with magic markers actually, but the pictures I’d get were fuzzy and cartoonish. I needed a more professional job. See…” Abby held up her left hand and the boys both gasped. On her palm, as lifelike in size and shape as could be, was a tattoo of an eye, its vivid blue iris surrounded by white. It was eerily realistic, almost 3-D in appearance, and it even had black mascara around it and inked on eyelashes. When Abby moved her fingers, the eye seemed to wink at them. “With this hand, I can see into your past.” She held up her right hand. The tattoo on that palm was identical, except the iris was colored emerald green. “With this eye, I can see your future. What would you like to hear?”

Charlie wasn’t sure, but the past seemed somehow safer. “Tell me about something in my past.”

“Okay,” Abby said, reaching out with her left hand to touch Charlie on the arm. She felt him shiver at her touch and knew he must be wondering how she could find his arm so easily. Deep down, no one really believed she could do the things she claimed, but that was what kept them coming back—that sense of wonder, the hopeful feeling that just maybe she was telling the truth.

As soon as she touched the boy, she knew his name and most things about him. The trick was not giving too much away. You wanted to tempt and charm the customers with half-truths and things that might fit their lives, without actually telling intimate details about them. People wanted to believe you were psychic in a fun way, a way they could go home and joke about, but most people—even the believers—didn’t want to know your powers were
really
true. No one was supposed to find out what a “freak” Abby truly was, so she just said, “I’m hearing the letter ‘C’. Is your name Chad?”

“Nope. Real close though. Wow. The C was right. My name’s Charlie.”

“Charlie. Yes, that’s it. Now I see it clearer.”

Ray laughed in the other chair, unimpressed, but Abby continued on without acknowledging him. “I see that you’re a kind person, Charlie. A real nice guy, but in the past I think you’ve had some bad luck with girls, right?”

“That’s an understatement,” Ray said, laughing louder.

“Shut up, man!” Turning back to the fortune teller Charlie said, “Umm…yeah, I’ve always been kind of shy I guess.”

Abby smiled. “Don’t worry, Charlie. You’ll be just fine. I’m seeing lots of girls knocking on your door soon. Just wait and see.”

“Hey thanks, Aurora. That was cool!”

“Cool?” Ray said. “Don’t be an idiot. She didn’t tell you squat. It doesn’t take a psychic to look at you and know you’re a dork with no girlfriend. Anyone can see that. Okay Aurora…my turn. And I’m not as gullible as my geeky brother here so you’ll have to do better than that to impress me.”

“No problem. Why don’t we take a peek into your future?” Abby kept the smile on her face but didn’t like this guy one bit. He was rude and pushy and kept staring at her boobs thinking she couldn’t tell. She’d had a long night of guys ogling her body and although that was all part of the game too, she’d had enough and wanted rid of this jerk as fast as she could. Abby reached out with her right hand this time, but as she tried to move the crystal ball to the side a little so she could reach his arm, a powerful vision swept over her, the strongest she’d had in nearly a year. The vision hit her like a force–five tornado, catching her in its funnel cloud and pulling her up and out of her body, up and out of her fortune teller’s enclosure, up and out of the Sideshow Curiosities tent, and over to the entrance of the carnival where the crowds were beginning to trickle out into the parking lot.

When Abby’s visions were this strong, the experience was much more than just a bunch of flickering pictures or shadow-shrouded images in her mind. For however long it lasted, she actually
lived
the moment—seeing, hearing, smelling, feeling, and tasting every second in blazing Technicolor as if it were happening to her in real time. Even more than the physical sensations, when Abby was really tuned in she could pick up the emotional heartbeat of the situations, the raw, soul-deep emotions of the people she encountered so no matter what she saw or heard Abby could see into their hearts to quickly decipher what was
really
going on. Tonight was no different. As soon as her mind’s eye swooped down out of the sky to land near the car park she immediately sensed the danger closing in on her long before she saw it.

Oh my God!
Abby thought, a chill not caused by the summer breeze enveloping her spirit body, as she looked back toward the carnival’s main entrance and prepared herself to witness whatever it was she’d been drawn here to see. Something was wrong though, something it took her only a moment to figure out. This carnival looked exactly like the one she worked in, no, make that
was
the one she worked in, but it had been altered here in the vision. That was unusual. Everything looked familiar, from the entrance to the ticket booth, to the enormous circus tent on the far side of the white picket fence. What had changed was that instead of the TOWNSEND sign that always hung prominently on display, Abby was looking at a banner strung above the entrance with the word CROWLEY’S printed in large block letters. Who the heck was Crowley? A man or perhaps a woman? Abby had no idea but just reading the mysterious name made her spirit tremble in fear and part of her was confused, thinking maybe she
should
recognize the name. For a moment she almost had it, almost grabbed a memory out of the dark night air, but as fast as it came it was gone again and Abby was left with nothing but the faint aroma of sickly sweet flowers in her ghostly nostrils.

With no answers available to her, she tried to forget about it and pay attention to the people exiting the carnival but the growing terror within her couldn’t seem to find a home within any of the men and women of Westchester. There was a black cloud of fear descending around her, kicking in her body’s natural fight or flight response, rapidly elevating her heartbeat but still Abby couldn’t find the person that was so afraid, or who it was that was causing such dread.

Then Abby saw the little girl.

She was about six or seven years old and cute as a button with her long dark hair tied up in ribbons and wearing a pretty striped summer dress trimmed with lace. In her hand she carried a huge swirling lollipop, but not once did Abby see her bring it to her mouth to lick; holding it more like a shield than a sweet sugary treat. The child had a strange look on her face, half smiling, half frowning, still trying to keep her fear from showing but if you paid attention to the way she kept looking around hoping someone would come and help her, her true feeling started to surface. Inside Abby knew she was frightened, completely confused, and wondering where her parents were. Her name was…Trisha. Yes, that was it. The last she’d seen her mother and father they were all in line at the hotdog booth but there were so many people crowding around and walking by that Trisha got separated from them and ended up wandering around the midway for twenty minutes until this tall man had come over to see if she needed any help. His large hunting knife strapped to his belt had frightened her a little, but at the time she’d been far more afraid of being alone than she was of this stranger. Abby could still hear the man’s soothing words in Trisha’s mind, asking her if she’d like a jumbo lollipop and promising to help find her parents and make sure she was safe.

Bastard!
Abby thought.
Filthy lying scumbag!

For a while, Trisha had believed him, trusted that he’d lead her to her parents and everything would be fine, but instead of heading further into the carnival where her mom and dad surely were, the man had begun walking her toward the exit. By the time Abby noticed them, the man was literally dragging her along, picking up his pace and telling her lies about seeing her father in the parking lot.

Anything to keep the girl quiet, right? Cry out, Trisha. Do something. Dig your heels in and start screaming. Stop dammit!

As they hurried past Abby’s line of vision, and she tried to get a good look at the kidnapper, her psychic connection to this location started to slip.
No. Not yet!
Abby fought to stay focused but it was no use. She was being drawn into the air and pulled back toward her waiting body. Just before she lost the vision completely, a black and white Westchester Police car drove into sight, pulling up to the main entrance. No sirens were blaring; not yet anyway, and the police could be arriving at the carnival for any number of reasons, but Abby caught a last second vibe from them as she passed overhead and knew the little girl had already been reported missing. The cops had been close by, patrolling the area all night in fact, knowing there was always some sort of trouble at the carnival every year. The two police officers climbed out of their squad car and…

Everything went dark.

“She’s right behind you,” Abby screamed, trying to contact the policemen and not yet fully aware she was back in her physical body again, inside the circus tent. Panic hit her hard, the way it always did when the visions faded. The horrible claustrophobic realization of being blind washed over her again, suffocating her in its dark embrace but there was no time for a pity party right now. She had to try and help Trisha. Neither the police nor her parents had any idea the child had already been swept away.

Unless Abby warned them.

“Who you talking to?” Charlie Jensen asked. “Us? There’s no one behind us. Umm…are you okay, Miss?”

Shit!
Abby had forgotten all about the customers she’d been with. Now they’d really think she was crazy. “Listen guys, I have to ask you to leave. I’m…I’m not feeling well so if you could just—”

“Oh no you don’t,” Ray said. “You ain’t sneaking away that easily. I paid my money and I want what’s coming to me.”

“Look, another time, okay?” Abby stood up and started moving carefully toward the tent door. “I have to go. It’s an emergency!”

She was nearly out of the room when Ray grabbed her and roughly spun her around to face him. “You owe me a reading, lady, and you ain’t leaving until I get it.”

“Stop it, Ray,” Charlie tried to intervene. “What the hell are you doing? You’ll get us in trouble.”

“Screw that, man. I’m sick of this shit. We paid good money to see nothing but crap. This slut ain’t even blind…look!” Ray reached up and before Abby could stop him, ripped off the purple cloth she kept wrapped around her missing eyes. Ray got a close up view of her empty eye sockets, partially covered with what was left of her sagging eye lid skin, and gasped in shock.

“Oh my God!” Charlie said, standing near his brother. “She really
doesn’t
have any eyes. Fuck me!”

Finding his bravado again, Ray said, “Yeah, but she still owes me something, right
FREAK
?”

Abby’s blood began to boil. Every second that went by, the odds of finding Trisha got worse, and this damn fool was demanding a performance. No problem. If that’s what the jackass wanted, that’s what he was going to get. Abby touched him with her left hand. “You wanna know what I see? I see you hunched over in your bedroom closet peeking through that little hole you made in the wall between your room and your mother’s. I see you pulling that tiny thing you have hanging between your legs as you watch your mom undressing at night. You’re a real hero, Ray; now get the fuck out of my way.”

Stunned into silence for perhaps the first time in his life, Ray Jensen let her go and stepped to the side. Seizing the opportunity, Abby bolted from the tent.

* * *

Nearly an hour had passed and the only thing that was abundantly clear to everyone was that the little girl, Trisha Martin, was gone. Who had taken her, why they’d done it, or where they had disappeared to so quickly no one had any clue, but just like in every small town the rumors were already starting to fly. Nosey people, who were milling around the circus tent and trying not to appear quite as interested as they obviously were, whispered possible explanations among themselves from the sensible to the completely moronic while watching the police try to get information from Trisha’s understandably frantic parents. Abby had heard the abductor was everything from a child rapist, to a serial killer, to a disgruntled person who’d been denied several attempts at legally adopting a child. Some of the more reasonable people seemed to believe the girl had simple wandered off on her own or was perhaps angry with her parents and trying to run away. Just because she was missing, they argued, didn’t necessarily mean anything drastically bad had happened to her. It was still way too early for that assumption.

In fact, the only person so far who’d claimed the girl had been abducted with any real conviction was Abby herself, who’d burst out of the Sideshow Curiosities tent screaming for the policemen to search the parking lot immediately. By the time they’d calmed her down enough to get her story straight and realize she was dead serious, they’d been too late to find the girl. Who could blame them though? What else were they supposed to think seeing a hysterical blind woman staggering toward them dressed like some sort of modern day gypsy yelling at the top of her lungs that she’d just had a psychic vision of a girl being led away from the carnival by a man with a knife? Officers Beck and Tanner made Abby promise she’d go back into her tent and wait for them to question her later, and reluctantly she’s agreed. Anything to get their asses moving toward the parking lot.