The Traveling Carnival by Jefferson Knapp

THE KINGDOM AT THE END OF THE DRIVEWAY B O O K

F O U R

The Traveling Carnival

BY JEFFERSON KNAPP

INTRODUCTION West Indies – July, 1522

he tall, dark-haired man heard the crashing of waves as he walked through the clearing. The salty, warm breeze of the sea blew against his curly beard. He walked on. The white sand below his boots crunched with every step closer to the shore. El Matador waited. He reached the long shadow of the ship in which he and twenty-three other fellow Conquistadors had crossed the oceans. He turned around to get one last look. Soaring palm trees reaching two hundred feet surrounded the jungle of the hidden island. His company was ignorant when they discovered the small crystal-clear pool of water that the tiny island got its vitality. His captain was the first to die. One by one the Conquistadors jumped into the pool, screaming with excitement. Twenty-three men splashed, drank, spit and dunked each other as one man stood back and curiously watched them all. He was rewarded for his caution. At first his captain laughed at the expense of another next to him getting dunked, then his face suddenly changed. Heaving as though he was about to get sick, the man hunched over and pressed his fists against his stomach. He quickly moved to the chest-deep pool’s edge. The other twenty-two men took notice and, one by one, had the same reaction. The captain grabbed the sandy rock above and pulled himself out of the pool, looking up for help from the one man who didn’t enter. The fearful man took a step back. Bulging blue veins appeared on his captain’s face as his eyes looked like they would pop out. He heaved again and got to his stumbling

feet. Every Conquistador was out of the pool lying or crouching on the ground in agony. His captain stumbled toward him and the man moved away, watching his leader fall to the ground screaming. After a moment of ear-piercing terror, a gush of blood bubbled out of his mouth, soaking his long blonde beard. He lay there dead. Seconds later everyone else was, too. Everyone…except for that lone Conquistador who wouldn’t go in. The jungle was quiet. The monstrous trees softly blew in the breeze above. He stared at the now-still pool and took in a deep breath. Taking out a glass vial from his white button-down shirt pocket, he slowly walked toward the water. He wrapped the vial’s leather lanyard around his calloused fingers. He stood over the pool. Looking at his reflection, he noticed he looked even younger than he really was. In his late thirties he was still young, but in the pool he was…ageless. The man smiled back at himself. His eyes grew wide with power. Crouching down, he lowered the vial to the water that had just killed his twenty-three friends. Keeping his hand steady, the open top of the small vial smoothly slid across the surface of the water filling the glass container. He put a tight cork in it, never to take it out, lest he suffer like those now lying dead around him. He stood up and held the vial to his eyes. The crystal-clear water was mesmerizing. He tied both ends of the leather string around his neck. The vial lay against the skin of his curly-haired chest. His heartbeat grew stronger as it pulsated against the glass. Or was the glass pulsating against his heart? He couldn’t tell. Somehow things seemed different to him. He walked over the dead bodies of his comrades and left the jungle that the world had never known about. He stood in front of the large ship. One man to sail the seas. He didn’t care if he was the only

man left on the earth. He would survive. Thoughts of his ship sinking in a storm or getting attacked by pirates teased his mind. He laughed. He walked through the shallow, warm water and climbed up to his ship. A strong easterly wind blew against the downed sails. He swiftly managed to get the sails open, and the ship started to groan as it pushed away from shore and out to sea. The island became smaller and smaller. Its abnormally tall palm trees towered over the minute mass of land. Once again the island that Ponce de Leon had been searching for only a few years back had returned to its mysterious hiding spot in the sea. The man looked ahead at the ocean that had no end. With lifetimes to spare, Josiah Qunnimeg Lazarus smiled as he said goodbye to death’s firm grip. The Conquistador set out to explore the mysteries and powers that the world tried to hide from such a man. It was now time for those things that just can’t be explained…to be found.

“There once was a time that I wasn’t But never will be that I’m not, For the water that layeth upon me Keeps these old bones from rot.”

CHAPTER ONE

Widow No More Sixty Years Ago

averhill always had much excitement to speak of. Sure, Leon was the place to be when it came to street dances and festivals. Mr. Bohannon, or Mr. B. as he was called, had an uncanny knack for spoiling certain occasions due to his pit bull’s special storm detecting abilities (the town folk would retreat into the tornado shelters only to find out it was a false alarm minutes later). But when it came to exploration and adventure, you’d find many youngsters making their way to the lush farm fields and country sides of Haverhill. Kids were unconcerned with trespassing on someone’s property. Some farmers cared, but most didn’t when it came to the young ‘uns playing hide-and-go-seek in their hay bales. Old man Seymour’s land was one of their favorite places; a labyrinth of hay bales right next to a creek was popular with neighboring farm kids who would come to play after school. Of course, when they tired of the hay bales, they would admire the different exotic birds that Seymour kept in screen huts beside his house. But on a certain sunny May morning in Haverhill, there was more excitement than one man cared to have. A truck pulling up to a secluded white farm house had a little black dog stirring in anticipation. The squealing brakes rang in the pug’s ears. The middle-aged man carelessly hopped out of the truck, ✦

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his boots pounding the pasture ground. The pug barked anxiously. “What is it, girl?” he asked with a slow drawl. Boo’s smashed-in face panted and her curly tail wagged. “Aaaaaaaaagh!” His head turned to the familiar voice from the house. The man tried to run but his limp slowed him down. His nerves wouldn’t let him stop and catch his breath. The front screen door banged open. He immediately spotted his mother on the old wood floor under the open window. He gasped. “Momma!” He hobbled over and crouched down. “Momma, what happened?” The elderly lady looked up at her only son, his blue long sleeved shirt under his overalls soaked from sweat, his balding head and face full of early-aging and stress from a hard life. “Bud, I…oh…” She took a few deep breaths to collect her strength. “I…I’m having a heart attack.” She winced. Cough, cough! “Momma, no! Y-You…You gonna be just fine! We’ll get in the truck and go see Doc. He’ll make you feel better! You-” She gently covered his mouth with her frail hand as a soft breeze blew through the window. “Now son, listen to me and listen good.” Widow Moore’s voice weakened, desperate for him to understand. “I want you to know…you’ve always been my pride and joy…I love you very much, Bud.” “Momma, what’s-” “I think I’m gonna be leaving you.” Cough, cough! “But…I want you to have me buried in our special spot so you’ll always know I’m right there with you.” “Momma, I-” Bud Persly’s eyes dropped tears onto the floor of the small country house. “I-I’m gonna go get help now!” “No, son!” Cough, cough! “You’ll be okay. This is your house now…it’s your land.” ✦

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“What?” Bud didn’t know how to handle the moment. “Son, I’ve prepared for this for some time now. I’ve felt myself getting worse.” Bud Persly stood up and started to walk toward the door. Her eyes pleaded with her son, “Bud, my will is in the bottom drawer of my dresser. Take it to Mr. Baker–he’ll know what to do.” Bud grabbed the door handle, struggling with the urge to stay with his mother or leave her to go get help. The ticking clock on the wall made it hard to concentrate. “Momma, I’ll be right back. I’ll go to Leon and get-” “Aaaaaagh!” His mother screamed again wincing in pain. She rolled up on the dusty wood floor, grabbing her chest. “MOMMA!” “Bud,” she could barely speak, “I love you, son. Always will.” She wailed in agony as her fists tightened into balls. Bud Persly didn’t know what to do. He cried out as he knelt down and hugged the only parent he’d ever known. Betty Lou Persly had lost her husband in a farming accident while she was pregnant with Bud. She raised him for years in Haverhill, never seeking out someone to take the role as father. That is, not until Bud was in his late teens and she married Hut Moore, a cattle rancher with an undiscovered temper. Hut Moore never had children, nor had he ever married until he met Betty Lou at the Leon Summer Jubilee. She caught his attention, an attractive woman quite a bit younger than he. She had looks; he had land and money. Betty Lou thought she was providing for her son, who was always made fun of for being different, and she believed a marriage into a secure life was the best thing for them both. Hut Moore lived ten years before catching pneumonia and dying, leaving Betty Lou, her son Bud, a failing inn and the ✦

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endless expanse of green pastures and vast forest that surrounded them. The last few years Bud never noticed his aging mother’s decline. And now she was in his arms…dead. As soon as Bud’s crying would cease and his cheeks would dry, the tears would start up again. He was unable to control this deep feeling of loss. As he lay there on the floor of the little farm house, Bud kept worrying, What do I do? What’s going to happen? There was no telephone. His momma hated having a phone. Confused and lonely, only one thought came to Bud’s mind– go find his friends, the twins…Augustus and Allister Biggs.

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CHAPTER TWO

Too Much Excitement

A “

ugustus?” The middle-aged woman called from behind the door to the garage. The teenager looked up from under the dirty pickup truck. “Yeah, Mom?” “You and your brother need to come inside and get washed up. Lunch’s almost ready.” Augustus sighed. “Allister ran off to the–ouch!” A tin can flew across the garage’s dirt floor and hit him in the head. Augustus knew who kicked it. “…Be right there!” He jumped up and charged at his laughing twin brother, overtaking him. The two boys wrestled on the ground, “You like that, Alice? How does that feel?” Augustus’s strong hands shoved his skinny brother’s whiskery face into the oily dirt. Unnngh! “Don’t call me that!” Allister grabbed a flimsy oil pan and smacked his brother across the head with it. Suddenly the gravel in front of the garage crunched under truck tires. The two boys looked up from their bout to see a familiar face through the bug-smudged windshield. A crying Bud Persly sat in the truck with his dog barking beside him. Augustus got up and slowly approached the driver’s side, Allister cautiously followed. “Um…Bud?” Bark! Bark! The pug stood on hind legs and balanced on Bud’s shoulder. She licked the back of Bud’s balding head as he hid his face in the steering wheel. “What’s wrong, Boo?” Augustus asked. ✦

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Bud sniffed through a drippy nose and answered, “Muh… Momma…she’s dead!” Loud crying ensued. Allister turned to his brother who had the same look of shock. “Dead?” Augustus answered. “H-How…what happ –” The door to the house swung open. “What are you two doing?” Hattie Biggs looked around and spotted her boys next to their family’s old friend crying in his truck. “Is…everything okay?” “Mom,” Augustus shook his head, “Mrs. Moore is dead.” Hattie gasped and delicately approached. “Oh, Bud…Bud, Bud! I’m so sorry! What can we do to help?” “I don’t know what to do!” he cried through sniffles. Hattie tried to think quickly. “Okay…is she still at the house?” “Y-Yes…” he spoke through cupped hands. “Does anyone else know your mother is -” “No!” he cried louder. Hattie put her calming hand on his shoulder and Boo licked it in gratitude. “Bud, we need to go to the police station and let them know. H-How did she -” “Her heart was hurting!” “She had a heart attack?” she asked softly. “Y-yeah.” Hattie turned to her boys. “Can you two help me get him to the police station? They need to take care of this.” “Sure, Mom,” Augustus replied. He hopped in the truck with Bud. Boo jumped in his lap, her curly tail wagging rapidly. Hattie gently squeezed Bud’s shoulder. “Bud, will you be okay to drive?” He nodded. Bud’s truck backed out of the drive and took off down the street. Hattie’s car followed behind as they drove six blocks to downtown. As usual, parking spots ✦

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were available right in front of the police station. The twins and Hattie walked Bud into the building. Soon, Sheriff Stephens called Bud back to his office. Hattie joined him – he needed all the comfort he could get, while the twins stayed up front and waited in the lobby. The sound of the secretary’s fingers punching the keys on the typewriter made them fidgety. Augustus and Allister were eighteen years old and had lost their father ten years before. When they’d first met Bud it was at an auction in town. Although he was thirty years older than them, he could relate since he had also lost his father. The three played outside on Bud’s farm often and the twins helped Bud with projects on Widow Moore’s land. It was easy to see why they were worried for Bud. He had never lived alone and had always tried to take care of his mother, though it was actually his mother that had taken care of him. Things didn’t come easy for Bud Persly…and they were about to get much harder. Boom! Boo ba-boom-boom! The distant drumming caught the ears of everyone in the lobby. The twins (and the stuffy secretary) jumped from their seats to look out the large window facing Main Street. Boom! Boo ba-boom-boom! Their curious eyes met. They raced to the door, hands flailing as both boys fought to turn the knob. The door opened and two sandy-blonde heads popped out. Window shoppers, patrons, and business owners hastily stepped out onto the sidewalks to see a line of colored box trucks slowly approaching from the far end of the street. As the caravan neared, the dumbfounded Leonites gawked at the lead truck with a man standing on top banging a timpani. Boom! Boo ba-boom-boom! ‘Oohs and aahs’ followed a clown fifteen feet high on stilts juggling wine bottles as he walked along. “Look, look!” A boy on his father’s shoulders pointed ✦

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further down at an elephant being led by its handler. People cheered and waved at the passing trucks. The fleet of nine colorful trucks approached the spot where Augustus and Allister stood. Everyone held their breath in wonder as the squeaking wheels of the lead truck stopped in front of the Prairie House restaurant. The convoy followed suit and came to a halt. Sheriff Stephens was too distracted with Hattie and Bud in his office to notice the commotion stirring outside. Augustus squinted at the words on the side of the front box truck. Reading them, he quietly mouthed, “The J.Q. Lazarus Traveling Carnival.”

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CHAPTER THREE

Feline Fine

he crowd was silent as the carnival trucks stood still, then suddenly the fourth truck from the end shook violently. Bruuuuuuuuuuuun! A loud trumpet blasted from inside. Except for the lead truck, all doors swung open with odd-looking characters scurrying to the scene. Augustus was barely able to make out a long gray trunk jerking up and down in the air. The truck’s tires bounced from the behemoth inside. BANG! BANG! BANG! The concerned spectators watched the nearly thirty groaning carnies try to out-muscle an elephant and keep the back gate from falling. Augustus’s and Allister’s mouths hung open. One of the carnies stepped away from the battle and threw his hat down in frustration, making his fellow workers struggle that much more. He tucked his thumbs in the pits of his undershirt and looked around at all the faces. He spotted the two gawking twins. “You there!” he shouted. In unison, they poked their chests. “Yeah, you two! Can you come give us a hand?!” he pleaded. Without hesitation, they raced to the large orange box truck. It wobbled with every blast from the elephant’s trunk. Allister was the first to the truck. BRUUUUUUUUN! The crowd’s focus shifted to another large elephant making its way to the truck. “Somebody keep Goldie under control! We don’t need her protecting her baby!” the carnie shouted. A ✦

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black man caught up to the elephant and spoke softly in to her large ear, patting her. Goldie appeared calm and retreated. The carnie turned to the twins. “Okay, boys, we got ourselves an aggressive pachyderm in here.” The twins were confused. The wiry redhead sighed. “An elephant! We’ve got an elephant about to break free! We need you to help hold this gate so it don’t fall!” His eyes darted at all the staring faces. He raised his voice so everyone could hear. “Nobody wants an elephant on the loose!” The crowd gasped and he grinned. Augustus and Allister clasped their hands on the tall iron grate that imprisoned the irritated elephant. With all their force pushed into their palms, they joined the other carnies in a losing battle with the elephant’s strength. The beast’s trunk blasted loudly and rattled the delicate truck sides. “Y-y-you got a c-cat scarin’-” “Troxell, we don’t need your gibberish now! Can’t you (ungh!) see Katie’s about to break free?” an annoyed short carnie warned. The twins turned to see a black middle-aged man wearing a tan ratty long-sleeve shirt with old pants cut off below his calloused knees. “S-see! R-right there!” Troxell pointed underneath the driver’s wheel well of the truck behind them. A calico cat was staring back. The redhead peeked behind his shoulder and spotted the calico. “Git on, you!” The man left his spot in the stronghold and kicked his boot toward the irritated cat. HISSSSSSS! The hair on the calico’s back poked up and its tail became a wire brush.

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“N-no! W-wait!” Troxell shouted. CLANK! Everybody got out of the way as Katie’s force caused the gate to crash down. BRUUUUUUUUUUN! Her trunk echoed through downtown as she stomped out the back of the box truck. “Aaaaaaaagh!” Screaming spectators retreated inside the buildings to avoid the rampage. Katie spotted the calico running in a narrow passage between the restaurant and another store. She slowed down and tried to find it. It was gone. Meoooooooooow! The cat yowled from the back alley. Katie blew her horn and marched behind the two-story Prairie House. The carnies and the twins cautiously followed. The redhead turned to Troxell and glared. “You! You caused all this!” “N-n-no! I-I-I…” Troxell’s raised his shoulders in defense. The sneering redhead pointed his finger at the alley. “...Go git ’er!” The twins stepped away from the awkward scene. Defeated, Troxell walked past the scowling carnies and disappeared ✦

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behind the building. After a minute of silence, Katie’s trunk appeared around the corner followed by the rest of her body. Troxell whispered in her ear and caressed it. She calmly made her way back to the street. The box truck bounced up and down as Katie ascended the ramp. “Good girl…good girl….” Troxell whispered while he gazed into her eyes. She was at peace. The carnies lifted the truck’s gate and locked it. Katie’s trunk slipped through an opening and shook Troxell’s hand. Augustus squinted as the overhead sun dazzlingly reflected off of something shiny on the Troxell’s wrist. With a slight movement his sleeve covered it up and the glare disappeared. “Ahem!” Every head turned. Hanging out of the lead truck’s window was a long black-sleeved arm. Long fingers rat-a-tatted loudly against the door, signaling for someone to come. The redhead didn’t hesitate; he raced to the truck and stood at attention. Everyone watched in silence. The carnie nodded his head and ran back to the group, his eyes finding Augustus and Allister. “Hey, do you boys know a place here in town we can stop at? We gotta give our animals some room to rest.” “Um…” Augustus was drawing a blank. Allister shot up. “The park!” “Yeah, Lions Park!” Augustus confirmed. “Lions Park…” The redhead slowly nodded, “…and where’s that?” “Oh, you just keep going down this street , and then you’ll see a sign for it. Just turn right! There’s plenty of space and nobody ever goes there!” The carnie considered the information Allister told him, and then raced to the lead truck. Standing again at attention, the man had a quick conversation with the man inside and ✦

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returned. “Okay, Lions Park it is. He wants you all to get back in your trucks and follow!” All the carnies nodded obediently. The redhead turned to the twins. “Thanks.” He smiled oddly and extended a hand. Allister grabbed it. “Glad to help, sir!” The man darted off before Augustus could shake his hand. Opening his truck’s door, he pulled out something rectangular and scurried to the small plot of grass next to the Prairie House. His back was to the twins as he knelt and placed it in the ground. Before he opened his door he checked the other trucks. “C’mon, Troxell; we’re leaving!” Troxell was moving Goldie into the back of the last truck. Its tires bounced and he hurried into the cab as the caravan drove off. The twins raced across the street to the police station. One by one the carnival trucks passed through. Allister’s attention was on the front truck with the mysterious man. Augustus’s eyes, however, were fixed on the end. Augustus half-way held up his arm and waved at Troxell. Troxell’s fingers nervously rose to acknowledge the boy. As the last truck passed by the Prairie House, the twins saw a rectangular sign that the carnie had put in the grass. They walked out to the middle of the street. Augustus read aloud, “Coming Soon! The J.Q. Lazarus Traveling Carnival– Prepare to be amazed! May 15–June 1.” “May Fifteenth?” Allister noted. “That’s this Saturday!”

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