I exhaled, and the door closed behind me. The sun was bright, the air was cool, and I felt hollow. Should I have said something different? I wondered as I walked down the stone sidewalk. Would it have mattered? Well, it was all too late. I had already said my goodbye. I sighed and hailed a rickshaw. I gave her the directions to a used clothes store.

“Wait here,” I told her, “I’ll be right back.” She nodded, worried I might run away without paying. They worked a terrible job.

I asked the clerk for the cheapest and most rotten clothes they had. Her brow arched curiously. “This way.” After a moment of thought, she led me to the cheap stuff. I picked out a tattered old shirt and thought, “Perfect.” Then I found matching pants and hat to go with it.
At the counter, the clerk wondered, “Going to a costume party?”
“Something like that.” I smiled.
She assumed she was right and gave me the receipt. “Well, thanks for the business.”
“You’re welcome,” I said and walked out of the store.

***

I was getting dressed when Brigitte returned from the gym. She saw my new clothes and slowly inquired, “What are you up to…?”
“I’m going to be gone for a few days,” I told her, donning the torn gatsby I’d bought.
“Where are you going?”
“The carnival. I mean the amusement park.”
“Oh…” She couldn’t quite put it together. “What’s the outfit for?”
“Stuff.”
“Stuff?” She raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you going to have lunch? Maybe we can go together after… Might meet someone.”
“No, thanks.” I shook my head. After the morning I’d had, I had no desire for lunch. I was more concerned with ensuring I had everything I needed; the deception ring, the ragged clothes, and the tattoo removal potions. “Alright, I’m off.” I dashed to the door after giving Brigitte a quick hug.
“Oh, okay.” She didn’t expect the hug and managed to evade my kiss on the cheek.
“Okay, later.” I pouted at her before running out the door. She did not think I was cute.

***

I didn’t pay at the entrance but climbed over the side wall instead. I could pay and go for the evening show, but I wasn’t there for entertainment. I was there for points.
I needed to join the crew; it was the only way to get to the twins. So I walked between the little game shops and through the lines for the rides to the clown restaurant. It was shaped like half of a clown’s head, with the chin and mouth missing. The entrance was a gigantic clown’s nose. One nostril read ‘enter’, and the other ‘exit’. I didn’t go through the front but walked around to the back.
If you want to join the crew, you must speak to the ringmaster, something you’d learn if you asked any of the workers. But unfortunately, that’s a difficult task because finding her was almost impossible. If you asked the people working in the amusement park, each  would point you to a different location. “At the roller coaster,” “the  Ali Baba,” “the bumper boats,” “the carousel”, and on, and on… And if you took them seriously, you’d be running around the park till you were  dizzy. I couldn’t recall how I figured it out in the game, but the way to meet the ringmaster was to steal food. The moment the assistant catches you stealing, she’ll take you straight to the ringmaster. Then it’s a matter of getting close to the twins.
A wooden piece was jammed into the edge of the rear doorway, keeping the door open. The forgetful employees didn’t like taking the key with them every time they had to go outside. Which worked perfectly for me. I quietly opened the door and slid in. The kitchen was busy. The cooking was loud. The head chef was screaming at the top of her lungs at the grunts, desperately trying to fill orders. I tiptoed down to the cellar. It had more than just wine; pickled and dried foods filled up shelves beside the bottles and barrels of alcohol. One area was caged off and contained all the expensive drinks. I took out the two potions in my pocket, floated them through the cage bars, and hid them among the many bottles in there. They looked different from the rest of the bottles, but in the dim cellar, they would go unnoticed.
With the potions hidden, all that remained was for me to get caught with my hand in the cookie jar - so to speak. I left the caged area, pulled out a red bottle from the racks, and popped it open. It was delish! I opened up another bottle and tasted that too. It was delicious too. So I tried another bottle, labelled clown wine. It tasted like candy but with a smooth alcoholic burn. It was like a mini treasure trove of sweet liberation. I found a jar filled with strips of beef jerky and nibbled  it along with the wine. I could’ve had the wine on its own, but I wasn’t sure if the plan would work without stealing food… I opened another bottle of red wine. I wanted to find a smoother, thinner red wine. Something with the same smoothness as the clown wine… So I sniffed more of the purifying scent of grapes. And poured more of the holy stuff into my mouth… Unfortunately, all the red wine I found that evening had a  certain viscosity to it…

***

They found me passed out in the cellar during their busy hours. Dinner time. They stood over me and shouted at each other. “Who the fuck is she!?” The head chef asked the poor soul that’d discovered my body.
“I- I- I don’t know, ma’am.” The unfortunate little woman recoiled. “I found her like this.”
She ground her teeth and shouted, “Bring me, Nia.” Nia was the ringmaster’s assistant.
“Yes!” Her subordinate shouted and ran off.
“And wake her up!” She bellowed, pointing her fat finger at me.

They threw water on my face and shook me awake. “Five more minutes, Lenny.” I groaned.
“Stupid bitch,” someone shouted and slapped my face.
“I’m up.” I sat up. “What?” It took me a second of staring at the people standing around me to realise I was in the middle of a mission.
“How did you get in here!” The fat tongue of the head chef flapped ferociously.
I was still a little sleepy and dizzy from the alcohol, so I closed my eyes to stop the spinning. The fat woman standing over me clenched her fist. “The door was open,” I answered before she could strike me.
“Who left the door open!?” She shouted. And no one answered. I really shouldn’t have drunk so much; I could’ve screwed up the mission. “None of you have an answer!?” She grunted. “Get her up. Get this place cleaned up.” I felt hands hook under my armpits and hoist me to my feet. I almost hurled up everything I’d drunk.
“Not so fast.” I moaned. “Gently.”
“Shut up, moron. You know how much trouble you’ve caused us.” The one on my left growled.
“Yeah, now we’ll have to keep the back door closed till she forgets.” The one on my right muttered into my ear.
“Idiot. She’s going to put us on grease cleaning duty.” They hissed back and forth in hushed tones as they carried me up the stairs to the kitchen.

The head chef snapped her neck back when we reached the kitchen and shouted with blazing fire in her eyes, “Will you two shut up!” The morons holding me up ate their lips.
“Where do you want them to put her?” The assistant chef who was standing beside us asked. “It’ll take Nia at least an hour to show up. You know how busy she is.”
“Hrr…” She grunted. “Take her up to my office.”
“You heard her. Go.” The assistant chef told the two holding me up.
“Yes!” They shouted simultaneously and dragged me up the stairs to the second floor.

***

They dropped me on her couch. I groaned. I shouldn’t have drank so much… but everything tasted so good.
“What should we do?” One idiot asked the other.
“We have to watch over her.” The other asserted.
“Shouldn’t we go back? It’s busy down there. Won’t she punish us for skipping work?” The short one was worried.
“We are not skipping work.” The tall one shook her head. “We’re watching over her. We have to watch over her till Nia shows up.”
“Okay.” I listened to the sounds of the restaurant below while trying to get a grip on reality. I needed to sober up before Nia showed up. “What do you think will happen to her?” Their eyes fell on me.
“Nia will probably take her to the ringmaster… After that, it’s up to the ringmaster…” She nodded her head sagaciously.
“Oh… I’ve never met the ringmaster before.”
“You should count your lucky stars.”
“Is she that scary?”
“Why don’t you go ask the performers.” She shook her head. “She’s the devil. We’re lucky we don’t have to deal with her directly.”
“She’s worse than Reem?” Reem was the name of the head chef.
“Yes, much worse!” She covered her mouth, realising she’d spoken too loud. “Yes, much worse,” she whispered.
“Oh…” Her friend shivered.
“Don’t let her look at you with her right eye.” They spoke of the ringmaster.
“I thought she was blind in her right eye.”
She shook her head. “The eye patch is just for show. She can still see through it. No, she can better than see through it. It’s part of her ringmaster skills. She can see people’s potential or strength level or something…” She began to sound ignorant. And became defensive, “Don’t  ask me. I don’t know her personally!” She covered her mouth again.
“Oh, okay.” Her friend nodded.
“Stop making me shout.” She hissed.
“Sorry.”
“Hmm…” She nodded. “Yeah, that’s how she finds her performers.”
“So, what should we do?”
“We wait. And watch over her.” She pointed at me.
“Who do you think she is?”
“Some low life. Look at her clothes.” My costume was working. They thought I was a homeless woman.
“What do you think they’ll do to her?”
“How would I know.” She shrugged.
“You think they’ll put her in their act?”
“Maybe.” She nodded. “Or maybe they’ll force her to take care of the animals.”
“The monsters?” Her friend shivered.
She nodded. “Yeah. They’ve needed someone new since the Jabber bit off Marmar’s hand.”
“O, yeah, I forgot.” Her eyes opened wide. “Is she still the only one working with the monsters?”
“I think some of the clowns help her out when they can.” She shrugged. “But I don’t really know what-” They stopped their conversation when I sat up and opened my eyes. “You’re up.”
“Oh, lady. You’re in a world of trouble.” The short woman mocked. “Do you have any idea who you messed with?”
“May I have some coffee? I think better when I’m sober.” I hoped to be more lucid when I met the ringmaster, but they’d had so much good stuff in their cellar that I had indulged a bit too much.
Their eyes narrowed, but the tall one said to the shorty, “Get her a cup of coffee.”
“What? Why?”
“Go do it.” She demanded. “You don’t want Nia blaming us because she’s sleeping around, do you?”
“Ah, no.” She shook her head.
“Then go get her some coffee.” She pointed at the door. “And get her a spoonful of honey too. It should help her sober up.”
“Okay.” She dashed out the door.
“Thanks,” I said.
“The ringmaster will deal with you.”