Page 38 of Monkey Business

“We are friends,” said Eagle Feather. “Time doesn’t dictate if we are good friends or not. Archie and I are great friends now.”

“I think I have to go now.”

“Where are you going, Gus?” asked Archie.

“I have to go.”

And as if by magic, Gus was gone. The two ghosts stood, turning to face the men at the edge of the tree line. They’d stayed hidden, Gus not noticing them at all. Or at least if he did, he didn’t say anything.

“He’s starting to believe that he killed those people,” said Archie.

“Do you think he did?” asked Gaspar, looking at the two of them.

“I do not,” said Eagle Feather. “I’ve seen the faces of murderers. I’ve felt their blackness. He does not have that. He has confusion and sadness and an emptiness within him. But not blackness.”

“I agree,” said Archie. “I do think if you can find anything in those journals, it might help you to figure this out faster. What I don’t understand is why he races off from the island and goes elsewhere. He’s yet to say where he goes or what he does. That would be helpful to know as well.”

“I believe I can help with that,” said Matthew, standing behind the men. They all jumped. All of them except Trak. He just smirked at the others.

“Pops, it’s late,” said Gaspar.

“I was about to say the same thing to you,” he smiled. “Gus leaves here and goes back to the circus. Several times a day and night. I believe he’s tied to them in some way.”

“Tied to them? Did he die at the circus?” asked Jean.

“I honestly don’t know. But if he is returning, it’s because his soul knows that there is unfinished business.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

“Why am I here? Why am I here?” Gus asked himself over and over again. He wandered the grounds of the circus, staring at the familiar and not-so-familiar. There were no people. No children laughing. It was dark. Why was it dark?

Hearing familiar voices, he walked toward the sound, following his instincts. It was Sean and Patrick. They were arguing. Then again, they always seemed to be arguing. Why?

Right. Nozo. He was a mess that kid, but he showed up for mass every week and confession at least once a month, sometimes more. That was more than he could say for his father and uncle.

Moving around the two men, he wandered toward the midway. The lights were out, but he could imagine when the games were playing, the bells ringing, the people cheering as someone won their favorite stuffed animal. He especially liked it when the kids would turn over a rubber duck and see a number that would get them a prize.

Further down, he noticed the circus museum. He remembered the two men speaking about it but didn’t remember ever seeing it before. Or had he?

He walked through the thin aluminum door and stared behind him as if expecting an alarm to ring. The walls were covered in old photos of famous circus performers and animals.

He loved the sights, sounds, and smells of the circus. Even the animal smells were somehow comforting to Gus.

There were exhibits showing famous costumes, tight rope, hoops, and juggling objects. There were exhibits for the strange and unusual that had once been called the ‘sideshow’ or ‘freakshow.’ Gus never cared for those. He felt it was cruel and certainly not appropriate for those who had died and had no choice.

He remembered a circus that he went to as a boy. There was a sideshow attraction with a woman billed as the fattest woman in the world. She wasn’t the fattest. She was big, but she wasn’t that big. They made her sit in a silly dress like a little girl. It was pink with ruffles around the collar and at the bottom of the dress. She wore white stockings and shiny black shoes.

But what Gus remembered most was the sad look on her face. She wasn’t waving. She wasn’t happy. She was embarrassed and sad. He knew that look. He understood that look.

No. He didn’t like the sideshows.

At the end of the makeshift building was an exhibit of the seven wonders of the world. He didn’t remember the O’Noth Circus ever being outside of North America, but maybe times had changed.

The first exhibit was memorializing the Great Wall of China. There was a brick in a glass case claiming to be an original. Gus wasn’t the smartest man in the world, but he knew that China would have never allowed that brick to leave the country. There was a replica of the wall built on a piece of plywood, showing it sprawling across the country.

He was unimpressed.

The next exhibit was a model of the Taj Mahal. It was a beautiful replica, and you could listen to a story about why it was built and the love story behind it. Of course, you had to be able to push the button, and Gus reached out and was surprised when the button depressed. A beautiful voice came on speaking about the love story of the Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan and his wife, Mumtaz Mahal. He smiled, listening to the beautiful story, sad when the recording ended.

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