Everything costs twenty-five cents and Lampie has exactly that: one quarter, the quarter from Martha, hidden away in the depths of her pocket.
She can go on the Big Wheel or on the Swashbuckling Swing Boat, or she can have one attempt at fighting the strongman in his red-striped shirt, who seems to be angry with everyone – well, she certainly won’t be doing that. One sausage with sauerkraut, one go on the shooting gallery, where you can win bottles of scent and paper roses, one spoonful of the miracle oil that will cure all ills… But Lampie already knows what she wants to do.
Among the jostling crowds and the splashing beer, she has already spotted the candyfloss tent. She is going to buy some and carefully take it home, all wrapped up, for Fish. As a surprise. He always looks so grey and tired. Maybe it will help.
But first she wants to look around – there is so much to see.
A watery sun has broken through the clouds and is turning the sky purple and green and gold. Lampie’s hand does not hurt any more and this evening or tomorrow or by the next day at the latest her father will have read her letter and will be thinking about her.
Dear Father, she wrote. How are you? I am good. I can see you from the windoe of the house where I live. Will you wave to me? You have to eat. I will come agen soon when I can have time of.
Lampie smiles and pushes her hands deep into the pockets of her new dress. Writing – it really is a miracle.
People are screaming and whirling around, and groups of children are chasing each other, on their way to the next attraction and the next. Look at that! And that! Look over there! No one is paying any attention to her, thank goodness, everyone is looking at the parade that is marching straight across the crowded field.
Stripy clowns on long stilts are pulling along small white dogs on strings. Jugglers are tossing all kinds of things into the air: scissors, bottles, apples, oranges, rabbits. Stacks of acrobats are swaying and sweating and swinging their flags. Fire-eaters are breathing flames…
Here it comes! Here it comes! It’s the elephant!
What? There’s an elephant coming? I have to see this, thinks Lampie. She climbs onto a barrel and tries to look out over the heads of the crowd. Yes, here it comes, from behind that tent over there, the elephant, waving its trunk.
But suddenly she sees something else. She sees a pair of eyes. Fish’s eyes.
Fish’s eyes? It’s impossible, but she really can see them. The same shape, the same colour. Gold with gold flowing from them. These are not really his eyes though; they are painted on a sign outside a tent, over there behind the circus parade, which is still passing by.
Lampie jumps off her barrel and runs between legs, past fire-eaters and stilt-walkers, she squeezes past warm, drunken bodies, jumps over someone who is lying on the ground – maybe sleeping – and then she is there.
Phe-no-men-al Freaks, she reads slowly; the letters are yellow and black and flaming red. Beneath the letters are painted pictures of a fat lady with a beard, a dwarf with a head that is far too big, and a woman with Fish’s eyes. She has wild green hair and a fish’s tail. It’s a mermaid. A real one! Could she be inside the tent?
In the ticket booth, a very fat man is resting his head on his hands and shouting in a hoarse and bored voice: “Monsters and frrreaks… Only a quarter… Phenooomenaaal frrrreaks… Roll up, roll up! Come and see the freaks!” He has a strange eye and his arms are enormous and covered in tattoos. “Behold the quirks of nature! The bearded lady, the Siamese twins, two heads, oh yes, all the way from Russia. The bird-woman and a maiden of the sea. Don’t put your fingers in the water! Only a quarter!”
Lampie fingers the quarter in her pocket. She hesitates. What about the candyfloss?
Inside the tent, her eyes take a moment to get used to the semi-darkness. On the floor, a path of canvas leads past various alcoves, each illuminated with a lamp. She is all alone – everyone else is outside, watching the parade. Lampie can hear the shouts and laughter.
In the first alcove, there is a cage with a small, feathered woman inside, perched on a stool. She looks like a child, but she is old and almost bald. Her dark beady eyes look straight into Lampie’s face.
“Hello,” whispers Lampie.
“Hello, child.” She has a piercing, high-pitched voice. “Feel free to take a look. That’s what I’m here for.”
“Um, I’m looking for the mermaid,” says Lampie shyly.
“Oh, her. Down the corridor on the left, in the tank at the back. But there’s not much to see, and she doesn’t talk either. I do. It’s nice to have a chat, eh? Or would you like me to whistle something for you?”
“No, thank you,” says Lampie, quickly walking on, past the next alcove, where the fat bearded lady is sitting in a chair, quietly snoring. She reminds Lampie of someone, but she can’t quite remember who. As Lampie tiptoes past, so as not to wake her up, the woman suddenly opens her eyes and looks at her. She stands up and it seems as if she is about to say something, but Lampie hurries on, past a sad-looking black man who is so tall that his head is touching the top of the tent, past two old ladies who have only one pair of legs between them and a hairy creature that is sitting at a desk, writing. She feels naked and uncomfortable; the Phenomenal Freaks are all looking at her too.
Fish would fit right in, thinks Lampie. Sitting here all day and being gawped at. She gets angry at the thought of it. People just have to take the time to get used to him. Then he doesn’t seem so scary any more and he’s almost not really that strange either. After all, she got used to him, didn’t she? But people don’t come into this tent to change their minds; they come to be frightened. A quick “Eek!” and then off to the next attraction.
There is a dwarf around the corner. Loose, not in a cage or anything. He is smoking a cigarette and he gives her an angry look.
“Hey, nothing to see here. I’m on my break. Go on, move along.” He gestures with his large head.
“Um… I’m looking for the mermaid, sir.”
The dwarf points over his shoulder. “In the back. Have fun.”
He sucks long and hard on his cigarette.
The aquarium at the back of the tent is surrounded by wild scenes painted on sheets of wood. Mermaids with sharp teeth and swishing tails are fighting giant fish. They are armed with tridents and blood is spurting out from the places where they have stabbed the fish. Golden eyes flash dangerously; scales glisten.
Something is floating inside the tank. The water is dirty and green, so Lampie can’t really see very much in there. What she can see though, has a tail and green hair too. Or is it seaweed floating in the water? The skin is grey, the tail is covered with algae and barnacles, like driftwood that has been rotting away in the water for a long time. That’s what it smells like too.
Lampie goes closer. She wants to see the mermaid’s face. The poor creature only just fits inside the tank, and she has hardly any room to swim or to stretch her tail.
Lampie wants to leave. It’s creepy here, and sad. And it smells so bad. But she takes a deep breath, not through her nose, and goes one step closer. There is no movement in the water. She places a hand on the glass.
Go on, turn around, she thinks. I need to know. I need to know for Fish.
“Hello! Wakey wakey! You have a visitor!”
Lampie jumps at the sound of the dwarf’s voice. He is standing right behind her with his hands on his hips.
The mermaid jumps too. With a wild movement of her hair, she whirls around. Water splashes out of the tank. She glares at Lampie, with her face right up against the glass. Just as angry as Fish can sometimes look. Because yes, she has exactly the same eyes.