"You don't worry me," the man snorted, taking a couple of large paces over to Jekkus, so they were eyeball to eyeball. "You're wasting our time and money. I want a refund."
"Insolent scum!" Jekkus roared, then lashed out with his knife and cut off the man's left arm just below the elbow! The man screamed and grabbed for the falling limb. As he was reaching for his lost forearm, Jekkus struck again and cut off the man's other arm in the same place!
People in the audience erupted with panic and surged to their feet. The man with the jagged stumps beneath his elbows tottered towards the edge of the stage, desperately waving his half-arms around, face white with apparent shock. But then he stopped - and laughed.
The people in the front rows heard the laughter and stared up at the stage suspiciously. The man laughed again. This time his laughter carried further, and people all around relaxed and faced the stage. As they watched, tiny hands grew out of the stumps of the man's arms. The hands continued to grow, followed by wrists and forearms. A minute later, the man's arms had returned to their natural length. He flexed his fingers, grinned, and took a bow.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" Mr Tall boomed, appearing suddenly on stage. "Put your hands together for the fabulous, the amazing, the incredibleCormac Limbs !"
Everybody realized they'd been the victims of a practical joke - the man who'd stepped out of the audience was a performer. They clapped and cheered as Cormac sliced off his fingers one by one, each of which grew back quickly. He could cut off any part of his body - though he'd never tried chopping off his head! Then the show finished for real and the crowd poured out, babbling with excitement, wildly discussing the mystical mysteries of the sensational Cirque Du Freak.
Inside, Harkat and I helped with the tidying up. Everyone involved was vastly experienced, and we could normally clear everything away within half an hour, sometimes less. Mr Tall stood in the shadows while we worked. That was odd - he normally retired to his van after a show - but we took little notice of it. You grew used to oddness when you worked with the Cirque Du Freak!
As I was stacking several chairs away, to be removed to a truck by other hands, Mr Tall stepped forward. "A moment, please, Darren," he said, removing the tall red hat he wore whenever he went on stage. He took a map out of the hat - the map was much larger than the hat, but I didn't question how he'd fitted it inside - and unrolled it. He held one end of the map in his large left hand and nodded for me to take the other end.
"This is where we are now," Mr Tall said, pointing to a spot on the map. I studied it curiously, wondering why he was showing me. "And this is where we will be going next," he said, pointing to a town a hundred and sixty kilometres away.
I looked at the name of the town. My breath caught in my throat. For a moment I felt dizzy and a cloud seemed to pass in front of my eyes. Then my expression cleared. "I see," I said softly.
"You don't have to come with us," Mr Tall said. "You can take a different route and meet up with us later, if you wish."
I started to think about it, then made a snap gut decision instead. "That's OK," I said. "I'll come. I want to. It? it'll be interesting."
"Very well," Mr Tall said briskly, taking back the map and rolling it up again. "We depart in the morning."
With that, Mr Tall slipped away. I felt he didn't approve of my decision, but I couldn't say why, and I didn't devote much thought to it. Instead, I stood by the stacked-up chairs, lost in the past, thinking about all the people I'd known as a child, especially my parents and younger sister. Harkat limped over eventually and waved a grey hand in front of my face, snapping me out of my daze. "What's wrong?" he asked, sensing my disquiet.
"Nothing," I said, with a confused shrug. "At least, I don't think so. It might even be a good thing. I?" Sighing, I stared at the ten little scars on my fingertips and muttered without looking up, "I'm going home." Alexander Ribs stood, rapped his ribcage with a spoon and opened his mouth. A loud musical note sprang out and all conversation ceased. Facing the boy at the head of the table, Alexander sang, "He's green, he's lean, snot he's never seen, his name is Shancus - happy birthday!"
Everybody cheered. Thirty performers and helpers from the Cirque Du Freak were seated around a huge oval table, celebrating Shancus Von's eighth birthday. It was a chilly April day, and most people were wrapped up warmly. The table was overflowing with cakes, sweets and drinks, and we were digging in happily.
When Alexander Ribs sat down, Truska - a woman who could grow her beard at will - stood and sung another birthday greeting. "The only things he fears is his mother's flying ears, his name is Shancus - happy birthday!"
Merla snapped one of her ears off when she heard that and flicked it at her son. He ducked and it flew high over his head, then circled back to Merla, who caught and reattached it to the side of her head. Everyone laughed.
Since Shancus had been named in my honour, I guessed I'd better chip in with a verse of my own. Thinking quickly, I stood, cleared my throat, and chanted, "He's scaly and he's great, today he has turned eight, his name is Shancus - happy birthday!"
"Thanks, godfather," Shancus smirked. I wasn't really his godfather, but he liked to pretend I was - especially when it was his birthday and he was looking for a cool present!
A few others took turns singing birthday greetings to the snake-boy, then Evra stood and wrapped up the song with, "Despite the pranks you pull, your mum and I love you, pesky Shancus - happy birthday!"
There was lots of applause, then the women at the table shuffled over to hug and kiss Shancus. He pulled a mortified expression, but I could see he was delighted by the attention. His younger brother, Urcha, was jealous and sat a little way back from the table, sulking. Their sister, Lilia, was rooting through the piles of presents Shancus had received, seeing if there was anything of interest to a five-year-old girl.
Evra went to try and cheer up Urcha. Unlike Shancus and Lilia, the middle Von child was an ordinary human and he felt he was the odd one out. Evra and Merla had a tough time making him feel special. I saw Evra slip a small present to Urcha, and heard him whisper, "Don't tell the others!" Urcha looked much happier after that. He joined Shancus at the table and tucked into a pile of small cakes.
I made my way over to where Evra was beaming at his family. "Eight years," I remarked, clapping Evra on his left shoulder (some of his scales had been sliced away from his right shoulder a long time ago, and he didn't like people touching him there). "I bet it feels like eight weeks."
"You don't know how right you are," Evra smiled. "Time flies when you have kids. You'll find out yourself one?" He stopped and grimaced. "Sorry. I forgot."
"Don't worry about it," I said. As a half-vampire, I was sterile. I could never have children. It was one of the drawbacks to being part of the clan.
"When are you going to show the snake to Shancus?" Evra asked.
"Later," I grinned. "I gave him a book earlier. He thinks that's his real present - he looked disgusted! I'll let him enjoy the rest of the party, then hit him with the snake when he thinks the fun is over."
Shancus already owned a snake, but I'd bought a new one for him, larger and more colourful. Evra helped me choose it. His old snake would be passed on to Urcha, so both boys would have cause to celebrate tonight.
Merla called Evra back to the party - Lilia had got stuck in wrapping paper and needed to be rescued. I watched my friends for a minute or two, then turned my back on the festivities and walked away. I wandered through the maze of vans and tents of the Cirque Du Freak, coming to a halt near the Wolf Man's cage. The savage man-beast was snoring. I took a small jar of pickled onions out of my pocket and ate one, smiling sadly as I remembered where my taste for pickled onions had come from.