seventy-three

Danny let the children run off with the other kids and their mothers to ogle the unfolding drama at the other end of the marquee. He stepped aside for men carrying a ladder and circled toward the communal dining tables. He’d lost Sid in the shifting crowd but caught him again beyond the food spread. Sid stood calm in a sea of chaos, smiling while everyone else wore varying expressions of concern or awe. He spoke into Nathan’s ear. Nathan’s lips retracted into a grimace and his knees locked as if to pounce. He looked like a rabid dog.

Danny quickened his pace. Mrs. O’Brien stepped in front of him. “Do something,” she said. “The festival is ruined.”

“I can’t now,” Danny said. “Excuse me.”

Mrs. O’Brien’s hectoring voice receded behind him. Danny broke into a sprint, or tried to, but he bumped up against people every other step. Marcus beckoned him, but he shook his head and called for him to mind the children.

Nathan leaned forward from the waist and Sid continued talking. Danny dodged around a table and along the edge of the marquee. Hail bounced off the glass beside him, and the marquee swayed and squealed from the wind assault. A layer of hail had already gathered on the tables.

“Nathan!” Danny called.

Nathan pulled a knife out of his pocket, but instead of lunging at Sid he whipped around, back toward the stage.

“Someone grab Nathan!” Danny yelled. “I’ll be talking to you,” he said as he passed Sid.

Nathan disappeared into the crowd gathered around the stage. On the ladder, Alan struggled to cover the hole with a large tarp.

“Excuse me, out of the way,” Danny repeated.

Someone screamed, and several people scattered, driving Danny backwards a few steps. He shoved his way against the crowd and stumbled forward to see Nathan honing in on Zoe.

“Jesus, stop him!” Danny said. “Grab him.” He barreled forward, not caring who he knocked aside in the process.

“Dad?” Zoe said.

She stood her ground as Nathan lunged toward her. Her eyes widened when he raised his arm, knife glinting under the faery lights. Danny arrived shoulder first and shoved Nathan to the ground. Nathan went down easily but didn’t want to stay down. He struggled against Danny with wide eyes and mouth forming an O of terror.

Danny stooped with knees on Nathan’s chest and worked the knife out of his hand. Nathan’s struggles turned desperate. Danny fought to keep Nathan’s heaving body from toppling him over. His wretched wails rose toward the ceiling.

“Nathan, stop,” Danny said.

The pitiful moan from Nathan’s deepest hell spread goosebumps across Danny’s arms. He ordered the closest spectators to grab Nathan’s limbs, which only made him struggle harder. He arched his back and banged his head against the ground. Merrit arrived and scrambled to sit cross-legged with her legs cushioning his head.

Zoe, meanwhile, stood frozen with hands over her mouth. She stooped next to her father, which incited him to struggle harder.

O’Neil appeared at Danny’s side. Danny hadn’t seen him previously. He clapped him on the back in relief. “Watch over Nathan. I’ll be back.”

Danny backtracked toward the communal tables with fury rising with every step. Sid stood where Danny had left him. As ever, he blended into the background, no one paying him any mind. Danny grabbed his arm and swung him around, forcing Sid to walk with him toward the entrance of the marquee.

“What shite did you feed Nathan?” Danny said. “Whatever you said cracked him wide open.”

Behind them, Nathan’s voice rose into an undone roar.

“I helped him,” Sid said. “You’ll understand later.”