Chapter 5
Chicot fastened her mask to her face as Elijah adjusted the strap of the flag belt so it sat properly on her hips.
She needed to attract people to their show, and opening ceremony was only an hour away.
Monty was currently backstage with Elijah and Chicot, casually getting the rest of her pirate outfit over her unitard.
Chicot felt the biting at the back of her throat, the urge to ask Monty a million questions about why she’d agreed to this.
Surely, they’d talked about it at great length before Lyza had asked Chicot, so it left Chicot wondering why Monty had acted so surly toward Chicot if she was willing to work with her?
Why pick her? Why not literally anyone else?
There were other acrobats working the faire.
They could have made a show with just Elvis and Monty, so why did they instead ask Chicot to fill in?
Lyza or Elvis must have suggested it, but that didn’t explain Monty’s agreement, since they wouldn’t have asked Chicot without her approval.
Elijah patted her on the back. “Okay, all set. It’s not too tight, right?”
That pulled her from her thoughts, and she shook her head as her bells jangled loudly. Monty, distracted from the sash she was tying around her waist, looked up at Chicot and snickered.
“That must do some serious damage to your stealth,” Monty said. The joke surprised Chicot, and she let out a deep laugh, making her jingle even more. Monty smiled back, shaking her head as she looked Chicot over again.
“Only when it comes to humans. Cats seem to think she’s a toy until she moves. Then she becomes the ultimate prey.” Elijah picked up his lute, lifting his chin, plucking out the infamous Jaws theme with Monty’s laughter joining in and making Chicot’s breath hitch.
“Anyway, break a leg out there today, you two.” Monty picked up her stilts, opening the backstage door again. “I have a feeling you will be the talk of the faire shortly.”
“Thank you.” Chicot folded her arms and watched as Monty left. Elijah shook his head slowly, setting his hands on his hips as he sighed.
“This is so weird,” Elijah said. Chicot turned to look up at him, the mesh making it seem like she was looking at him through a fence, thin black lines cut through her field of vision.
“I know. Since we haven’t talked about it as a group yet, I feel like I … I don’t know, like maybe I did the wrong thing?” Chicot groaned, looking up at their props lined up along the wall. She had not considered Monty at all because she’d been too focused on Lyza, who’d looked like she might cry.
“You didn’t do the wrong thing.” Elijah’s forehead creased as he looked up at the ceiling. “I mean, what else could we do? Not like we could say no.”
Chicot sighed. “You’re right. As soon as I figured out what was going on, I felt like I should say yes.”
“Yeah, because you wanted to do the right thing.” Elijah leaned on the wall, taking a deep breath. “Okay, come on. We have a show to get people to watch and audiences to entertain.”
Chicot nodded more vigorously, causing her bells to become a cacophony of tiny metal beads banging on thin metal plates.
She followed him with flag in hand, tucking the end into the belt once they were in the blazing sun.
It was bordering on sweltering and it wasn’t even 10 a.m. yet.
Chicot put the heat out of mind as best she could, carrying her heavy flag to the entry gates where they’d be ready to beckon people toward their show as they filtered into the faire grounds.
Their flag hung like a medieval banner from the cross bar at the top of her flagpole.
It matched her costume, a bright marigold with bold red lettering that read: The Jester each spin she did and note on her slide whistle making it easier to forget.
She made room for other performers, bowed deep to the Queen as she passed with her entourage, and posed for photos.
Girls in hats that looked like mushrooms grinned at her as she did magic tricks, and she joined them to do little dances, making yarn pom-poms appear and disappear before leaving one with them.
She felt at ease, like she was in the dog park, with people enjoying her costume or laughing when she did a trick.
People wanted to see her; they liked her showmanship, and that left Chicot ready to do flips down the aisles of shops.
She sadly had to control herself, and she surged with happiness and relief. This was going to work.
Chicot eventually started making her way back to the stage, whizzing past patrons with turkey legs and parents with strollers.
She forced herself to slow down after she bopped a man on the head with her flag while weaving under the water booth’s large wooden mermaid sign and the long line for the coffee shop.
Chicot pantomimed a frantic apology as the man laughed and assured her she’d only hit him with the material, not the pole.
There was more of a learning curve to carrying the banners than she’d realized.
More importantly, she had thirty minutes before she and Elijah were supposed to be on, which meant The Pirates Three had fifteen left in their act.
She didn’t stop to watch them—too focused on getting the flag belt off and her mask ready.
Elijah was already there when she arrived, plucking her bag of balloons from the shelf and offering them to her.
He gave her a thumbs-up, and as Chicot prepared for their first show of the year, she felt a lightness within her body, allowing her to breathe easier.
She had Elijah there with her, and as she helped him arrange the jewelry on his fake elf ears, everything felt fluttery.
This was the right thing for them to be doing, the place where they belonged.