Chapter 16
Chicot spotted him from atop her box during their third performance of the day the Sunday before their audition.
They were leaving at five a.m. in just two days and there he was, a stupid cowboy hat he’d had all her life with an Easter bunny charm that Chicot had tied onto the rope around the brim as a little kid still sitting on it.
There were two familiar little people next to him, their faces excited and their grins wide.
He looked toward the stage, his eyes narrowed slightly, his head tilted as she tried to keep up with their act.
It was dizzying. The man with a face she had been told over and over was so similar to her own was watching her dance around on stage as Elijah played the lute next to her.
They were testing their new version on the audiences, and everyone had been loving every second of their melodies and dances and jokes.
Her father simply had his lips pressed together hard as he watched. Chicot did her best to look at any other patron until they were finished. Then she turned her back, picking up their table as quickly as she could, and practically running backstage regardless of whether Elijah followed.
“Are you okay?” Elijah set an arm on her upper back as she set the table down and ripped her mask off. They’d finished, but Chicot had made mistakes, small ones, unnoticeable to the audience but definitely noticeable to Elijah.
“M-My dad was out there.” Chicot swallowed hard, pressing a hand to her chest as she leaned on the wall. “He had to know that was me.”
Elijah’s expression pinched and he looked toward the curtain that led to the stage. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Chicot tried to control her breathing. “He was wearing his hat. It was him.”
They had to be out there to advertise the final show of the day, and Chicot’s dad was still wandering about in his cowboy hat that identified him to her.
The man who had always wrapped her up in hugs and told her everything would be okay, who would let her hide with him among the cows when her mother had sent her to her room.
But he had never called after she’d left. He’d been raised in the church in the depths of the deep woods of Wisconsin, so there was no way he was ever going either, even if she had a phone.
Worst of all, he had to have Juni and Charlie with him.
There was no other explanation for why they were here.
Juni must have asked to come. She loved it at the faire as much as Chicot had as a kid.
Chicot should have realized and she was kicking herself for letting herself be blindsided.
Her siblings were here, seeing her show and not even knowing that it was their big sister up there.
At least, they wouldn’t until they saw The Pirate’s Three.
“Chicot, maybe you should go to the break area.” Elijah knelt by her side. As he did, Elvis opened the backstage door to get his stilts and sign. He took one look at them and his brow wrinkled with worry.
“Everything okay?” Elvis asked. Chicot nodded quickly, putting her mask back on. If her dad couldn’t see her face, he’d be just as oblivious to her as she would to him if he didn’t have his hat on.
“Yeah, fine.” Chicot grinned under the mask, squared her shoulders, and pushed herself to move past it. “I’ll be okay, Elijah. I’m just a little warm.”
“Okay …” Elijah dipped his head, watching as Chicot grabbed her balloons for making balloon animals and stepped out into the masses.
She then turned back to Elijah, lunging out with one leg and gesturing wide with her arm, beckoning him without a word.
They had a show to promote, money to make, and they couldn’t dwell on her dad being at the faire.
After all, he had brought her there in the first place.
It was because of him that Genevieve had become Chicot, a silly jester who could make people laugh and laugh and laugh.
So that was what she’d do. She’d perform.
Balloon animals were easy, and with pantomime and sleight of hand, Chicot could make little kids giggle until they were either screaming from excitement or no longer upset.
She focused on kids who were crying, doing jigs to get up to them, offering them silly hats or dogs or swords.
It worked almost every time, and each time their parents looked relieved when they calmed down.
She jingled the bells on her head, played games with the performers dressed as forest fey, trying to look ethereal as they snuck around the faire.
See, Chicot could be normal as she found an open space to do cartwheels with her balloon swords, handing them off to kids.
She produced cards seemingly out of thin air with their show information, beckoning people to come with laughter and magic.
It was during one of Brewhilda’s shows near the back of the faire, the loud punk music blaring as she spoke nonsense rhymes she pretended were spells, that Chicot spotted the hat again.
He was standing with Juni and Charlie at his side, loosely watching Brewhilda’s set with a disinterested look on his face.
Her dad had been the one to introduce her to The Ramones, The Clash, Dropkick Murphys—old punk.
She wasn’t surprised he didn’t seem to care for whatever Brewhilda had written for her show.
It was pretty soulless, not that Chicot would have called it out prior to Brewhilda being a total jerk to her.
Chicot took a deep breath, doing a jig as she tried to pass by her siblings and father, but Juni in her princess dress with her long, flowing brown hair pointed in her direction. She grinned.
“The jester!” she shouted. “It’s the jester, up close!”
Chicot turned, waving as she stepped over her feet awkwardly.
She didn’t want to approach or get too close, not with her dad there, but she wanted to hug Juni and Charlie so bad.
Now ten and six, her younger siblings were so much bigger than the last time Chicot had seen them.
Charlie’s eyes were big, blue-green, and smiling without a smile on his face yet.
He had a mop of sandy brown curls, a giggle coming out of him as he pointed toward Chicot, agreeing with Juni.
It wasn’t Chicot or the jester that broke—it was the person under the mask, Genevieve.
She stepped toward them, her hand out as she wiggled her fingers, getting Juni to put out her hand and close her eyes.
Chicot then pulled something special from her pocket, producing a pot of body glitter she saved for special interactions.
It was from the booth that sold elf ears, so it was safe for her to rub a little into Juni’s small palm, her precious sister.
Chicot took more, poking each of her chubby cheeks, rubbing in just the right way to leave heart shaped marks on her.
By now, her dad was looking down at her, leaning toward Chicot slightly.
When Juni opened her eyes, she tapped her feet, squealing in glee as she thanked Chicot loudly for her gift. Chicot bowed to her, dramatic and large as Juni did a curtsy. She then quickly made a sword for Charlie out of balloons, taking the time to even add a shield as Juni showed him the glitter.
“Genevieve?” Her father’s voice was low. He had been waiting patiently for a moment when the kids were distracted. Chicot swallowed hard, tilting her head side to side to act as if she were confused.
“That’s you, isn’t it?” her father asked. “You were up there with E.J.”
Chicot tensed. She hadn’t really expected her dad to recognize Elijah. He had been afflicted with similar issues to Chicot. It was something her mother had complained about endlessly. He could never pick her out of a crowd, and she refused to do anything to make it easier for him.
She handed the sword to Charlie after knighting him with it, offering the shield next.
Charlie beamed, shouting an overly loud thank you at her like he was trying to be heard over music that wasn’t there.
Chicot then turned to her dad, shimmied her shoulders and skipping away like a good jester should.
When she looked back, Juni was waving wildly at her, and her dad’s posture had completely collapsed in on itself.
His head turned to fully face Chicot, his mouth hanging open slightly.
Chicot turned, trying to put it out of her mind.
The last thing she needed before their audition was to let her dad get into her head.
She told Elijah as much when they were in their trailer later, so he dropped it.
Chicot kept to herself the next few days, really only leaving the RV to work with Sunnie.
When she saw Monty, she obviously sensed something was up, but didn’t seem to know what.
She would frown when Chicot wanted to go back to her bed and sleep, trying to rest up as much as possible before the audition. Monty never stopped her.
The night before they left, Monty did pull Chicot close after Monty had come to Chicot’s trailer to ask her about going to dinner. Chicot had declined, and Monty hadn’t been upset, but she kissed her cheek and mumbled against her skin.
“Whatever’s going on, you’ll be okay.” Monty ran her fingers over Chicot’s jaw, a gesture of comfort that Chicot struggled to lean into.
Her stress had gotten so high, and seeing her dad and siblings had only made it worse.
They were tucked between RVs, Chicot’s back against the cab of hers and Elijah’s.
The grass had grown tall between all of the motorhomes, tickling Chicot’s legs as she tried to focus on Monty.
“Thanks.” Chicot’s voice was monotone. She couldn’t help it.