“October twenty-fourth! That’s tomorrow!”

“It can’t be,” said Will. “All carnivals stop after Labour Day—”

“Who cares? A thousand and one wonders! See! MEPHISTOPHELES, THE LAVA DRINKER! MR. ELECTRICO! THE MONSTER MONTGOLFIER?”

“Balloon,” said Will. “A Montgolfier is a balloon.”

“MADEMOISELLE TAROT!” read Jim. “THE DANGLING MAN. THE DEMON GUILLOTINE! THE ILLUSTRATED MAN! Hey!”

“That’s just an old guy with tattoos.”

“No.” Jim breathed warm on the paper. “He’s illustrated. Special. See! Covered with monsters! A menagerie!” Jim’s eyes jumped. “SEE! THE SKELETON! Ain’t that fine, Will? Not Thin Man, no, but SKELETON! SEE! THE DUST WITCH! What’s a Dust Witch, Will?”

“Dirty old Gypsy—”

“No.” Jim squinted off, seeing things. “A Gypsy that was born in the Dust, raised in the Dust, and some day winds up back in the Dust. Here’s more: EGYPTIAN MIRROR MAZE! SEE YOURSELF TEN THOUSAND TIMES! SAINT ANTHONY’S TEMPLE OF TEMPTATION!”

“THE MOST BEAUTIFUL—” read Will.

“—WOMAN IN THE WORLD,” finished JIM.

They looked at each other.

“Can a carnival have the Most Beautiful Woman on Earth in its side-show, Will?”

“You ever seen carnival ladies, Jim?”

“Grizzly bears. But how come this handbill claims—”

“Oh, shut up!”

“You mad at me, Will?”

“No, it’s just—get it!”

The wind had torn the paper from their hands.

The handbill blew over the trees and away in an idiot caper, gone.

“It’s not true, anyway,” Will gasped. “Carnivals don’t come this late in the year. Silly darn-sounding thing. Who’d go to it?”

“Me.” Jim stood quiet in the dark.

Me, thought Will, seeing the guillotine flash, the Egyptian mirrors unfold accordions of light, and the sulphur-skinned devil-man sipping lava, like gunpowder tea.