Disharmony

‘I was thinking sideshow alley,’ said Samantha.

Shofranka and Mirela groaned.

‘You want to find Birthday Jones,’ said Shofranka.

‘Are you still hanging around with that little thief?’ said Tamas.

Samantha spun on the spot. ‘What are you still doing here?’

‘Nice,’ said Tamas, theatrically raising a fist to his chest and ripping out an imaginary knife.

Samantha blushed. ‘It’s just that you always go off with the guys to the rodeo,’ she said.

‘Yeah,’ said Mirela, smirking.

Samantha stomped on her friend’s toe.

‘Well, that was in the days when kings with guns and mutants with swords weren’t running around after you,’ said Tamas, looking down at her.

He seems to be growing about a foot a day lately, thought Samantha. And those shoulders! She blinked up at him. To her left, she noticed a group of giggling girls doing everything they could to attract his attention. She moved over a couple of steps to put herself between him and them.

‘You think we’re just gonna let you go around this place unchaperoned?’ Tamas continued.

‘Well, Luca and Hanzi seem to have done just that,’ said Mirela.

The two older boys were now lost in the crowd.

‘Yeah, well, they know I’ll look after you,’ said Tamas.

‘And exactly how would you handle a ninja with a sword?’ said Mirela.

Tamas’s dark brows drew together and he opened his mouth to retort.

‘Would you two please give it a rest?’ said Samantha. ‘Please. Look where we are. Let’s just have fun.’

‘Yeah,’ said Shofranka, her eyes serious behind her heavy spectacles.

‘I’ll be good if you will,’ said Mirela. She spat on her hand and held it up for Tamas to shake.

He looked down at her. ‘Oh, I’ll be good,’ he said. ‘But I am not going to touch your spit.’

‘Well, just for that,’ said Mirela, ‘we’re going to the rides first.’

And she took off fast, weaving in and out of the moving crowd as though they stood still. Samantha and the others hurried to keep up.

One of the best things about this carni, thought Samantha, is that they have so many rides. And one of the worst things is how old and rickety they are. She stood behind Mirela and Shofranka in the queue for the Ghost Train, acutely aware of Tamas standing right behind her, so close she could feel the heat of his body through her clothes. At least it felt that way.

It was a warm night. The stars were outshone by the gorgeous carnivale lights, but nothing outshone the moon, still fat and full, but not quite perfect, a day’s worth of silver shaved from the sphere.

To distract herself from Tamas, Sam focused on the crowd. It seemed that half of Pantelimon was here tonight. Children cried and shouted, tired and wired from all the sugar and sights. Girls squealed, trying to out-shriek their friends. Bells rang, hammers clanged and mechanical rides screeched and sang. The night smelled of gunpowder and magic.

Samantha wrinkled her nose and shuffled another few steps forward as the queue moved up.

‘Don’t you think the Ghost Train is just a little bit lame, Mimi?’ she said.

‘The Ghost Train is fabulous,’ said Mirela.

‘It is kinda lame,’ agreed Shofranka, walking backwards so she could join in the conversation. ‘But I still get scared every time.’

‘Well, don’t worry, Sho,’ said Mirela. ‘You’ll have your big tough brother to sit next to. He’ll hold your hand.’

‘Eww,’ said Shofranka. ‘I’m so not sitting with Tamas.’

‘Well, you’ll have to ride alone then,’ said Mirela. ‘Because Sam and I always sit together.’

Shofranka stopped shuffling. A gap formed ahead of her in the queue. She put her hands on her hips. ‘I am not going on there by myself,’ she said.

‘Hey, move!’ someone yelled behind them.

Samantha turned towards the shout, as did Tamas. She couldn’t see his face, but the girls behind them obviously could. The ten or so closest female faces stared openly at him.

Tamas turned back around before Sam did, and she felt a rush of blood to her cheeks. She dipped her head to try to hide the blush. You are so lame, Sam, she told herself. Can’t you be a little more cool?

‘What’s the matter, little Witch?’ he said.

He reached out a hand and put a finger under her chin, lifted her face. ‘You should never hide that face from me,’ he whispered. ‘It hurts when I can’t see it.’

She just stood there. Open-mouthed.

He put his hands on her shoulders and spun her around. ‘But I’m going to have to survive,’ he said from behind her again now. ‘Because the line is moving.’

He did not just say that, Samantha, you idiot. He said something else entirely. He probably said that it hurts to look at you, or something. That’s what he meant. But her cheeks were already beginning to ache because her smile was so wide. And he was standing even closer to her now, if that was possible. Every few moments she felt their clothing touch and the fleeting movement raised goosebumps over her bare arms. She closed her eyes as she moved forward in the queue, vaguely aware of Mirela and Shofranka arguing up ahead. What if I just lean back right now, she thought, right into that chest? Into those arms?

‘Um, wakey, wakey, nutbag,’ said Mirela. ‘We’re up next.’

They’d reached the edge of the platform. Staring at them was a bleary-eyed attendant and a faded monster’s face, plastered across two red doors.

‘Two at a time,’ the attendant sing-songed. ‘Keep your arms in the carriage at all times.’

The red doors crashed open, splitting the monster’s face in half, and a dilapidated cart jerked out. A bored- looking Gaje couple readied themselves to alight from their flight into hell.

‘Looks like you get to ride with your boyfriend,’ said Mirela, whispering the last two words. ‘On account of how Shofranka’s gonna spit the dummy if one of us doesn’t ride with her.’ She ramped up the volume on the last sentence and gave her younger cousin a scowl.

Samantha swallowed.

‘You’re welcome.’ Mirela gathered up her skirt and climbed into the cart with a nervously grinning Shofranka.

Samantha had known Tamas her whole life. She’d thrown rocks at him, raced horses with him, shared a plate of food with him many times. When they were younger they’d even slept in the same sleeping bag, just as she had with every other kid in camp. She’d always fought for his attention, and gabbled away about anything she could think of just to get him to talk to her.

Now, she could not think of a single thing to say.

He towered over her with an amused smile on his full lips. ‘So, I get to go on the Ghost Train with a witch,’ he said. ‘I’m kinda scared.’

‘You’re scared,’ she said. She couldn’t look at him.

Tamas gave a laugh. ‘You’re not scared of little me, are you, Sam?’ He hooked a finger through one of her curls and pulled.

‘As if,’ she said, straightening her shoulders and meeting his eyes as they roamed her face. ‘I am a witch. I might put a spell on you.’

‘Too late,’ he said, tucking the tangled tress behind her ear.

Fireworks went off in her stomach.

Their carriage lurched to a halt in front of them and Tamas climbed in first. He held out his hand to help her in and she grabbed it quickly, before he saw hers shaking. He lifted her into the cart as though she weighed no more than a saddle. When he let her go she wished he hadn’t and her chest hurt.

My God, what is happening to me? she wondered. She felt burning hot and shivery all at the same time.

As they moved towards the black fire-painted gates, they each sat rigid, separate. But by the time they’d cleared the gates of hell, Tamas was on her side of the carriage. She turned to face him, dizzy, unable to think.