The chair screeched from the table as George the Great stood, holding the stack of reports from the nightly meeting. The residents chatted amongst themselves until he cleared his throat and pulled the tips of his vest downward.

“It’s Monday, laundry night.”

Sophie Mae leaned to Dink. “Why an announcement about laundry?”

“Our clothes have to be washed in the potion if we plan to leave the house. If we don’t, our clothes aren’t invisible.”

“Yeah,” Billy interrupted. “It makes people run and scream. I always leave a pair of pants out of the wash, just for fun.”

“We’ll have none of that, Billy. Please drop your items right away. I have the water heating as we speak.” The heels of his dress shoes struck the stone floor as George hurried to the lab stairs.

Sophie Mae raced after him. “Mr. George, can I help with the laundry? You’ve all been so kind to me, and I’d like to be useful. My grandma taught me how to do the wash, so I won’t be in the way.”

“Well, it is Billy’s night to help, but I’m sure he won’t object to you stepping in.”

“What a sucker!” Billy screeched as he bolted outside.

The residents filed out of the kitchen through the servants’ door, discussing next week’s weather and the clothes they planned to wear. The task proved difficult as the Farmer’s Almanac wasn’t always reliable.

Sophie Mae followed George to the downstairs laboratory. “Why are you doing the laundry?” she asked. “It’d make more sense if Ms. Ruby did it, seeing she’s the maid.”

“Ms. Ruby washes towels and bedsheets, but the washing of clothes falls to me. The ratio of water and potion is precise, and the slightest variance decreases the invisibility of the clothes. The clothing and invisibility potion are symbiotic, meaning if one is visible, the other will be as well.”

The two entered the lab, greeted by the scraping of buttons on tweed jackets. Clothes shot through a large metal pipe in the room’s corner and dropped into a large black cauldron, similar to one a witch might own.

The liquid boiled in the pot, releasing colorful bubbles that burst midair like tiny fireworks. Sophie Mae gravitated toward it as a small pair of trousers with suspenders splashed into the brew. A frog hopped from the pocket and crawled atop the clothes mountain, sinking into the cauldron.

Sophie Mae watched with anticipation as the frog sank lower into the pot. When its rounded toes met the scalding water, it jumped over the rim and straight to the floor. Its feet faded and returned solidly. “Look! The frog’s feet.”

“They’ll be invisible to other creatures until it eats or drinks. He could also suffer the fate of the last insect to slink from Billy’s pocket. The centipede’s legs disappeared. I felt bad for the creature and gave him a drop of water. The faded potion left him walking backward. It must have been hard for him to fit in back home.”

George took a long, smooth stick from a hook on the wall and poked at the clothes. Shoving them deeper into the scalding water had them vanishing into the bubbling brew. He passed the stick to Sophie Mae, who did the same.

“Just keep stirring the clothes. You should be able to feel their weight.”

“What if some water splashes on me? What should I do?”

“It’ll be fine. I have a glass of clean water right here to return you to your normal state.”

Sophie Mae poked and stirred the clothes in the cauldron, stopping only to wipe the sweat from her brow. George gave an approving nod and walked to the cabinet, where he snapped open the metal brads and organized the night’s papers behind their tabs. He returned to the pot and clenched his hands.

“Now we ring them out and put them in the trunk over there. No need to be careful, just toss them.”

“But won’t they grow mold? They need to be air-dried.”

“Trust me.”

Sophie Mae dipped the stick into the water and lifted sections of the clothes, dropping them to the floor. The steam drifted off the garments as both hustled back and forth to the trunk, passing each other with full arms.

“You’re doing a glorious job. Washing our clothes this way is very important. Why, just last week, I wore my cape and top hat on my routine walk with Mary Louise. The people in the streets pointed and stared in my direction. An entire group of women fainted on each other. It wasn’t until a gentleman yelled something about an invisible man that I realized people only saw my clothes walking down the street.”

Sophie Mae stared intently. “What did you do?”

“I did the only thing I could. I ran behind a building and removed my clothes, all the way to my undergarments, which I knew were treated. Mary Louise and I took the shortcut home. I hadn’t known at the time, but only my cape and hat were the culprits. Now, I wash everything, just to be certain.”

Sophie Mae covered her mouth, but the giggles escaped past her fingers. With the last few pieces in the trunk, she gasped at the fading of her arms and waved them around.

“Now, I close the lid,” he announced. “And Presto!”

His arms stretched high in the air. The trunk bumped around the floor. A deep wrinkle formed between his furrowed brows, and he sat on the chest. He attempted to steady the bouncing and shaking, and Sophie Mae grasped the washing stick for protection.

The erratic motion of the trunk stopped, and the circus magician hopped to his feet, pulling his vest straight and throwing his hands into the air once again. “And Presto!”

Opening the lid, he invited Sophie Mae to examine the clothes which were now dry, folded, and neatly stacked. She raised an eyebrow.

“The wonder of magic, my dear,” George’s arms dropped. “That’s all you need to know. Now drink this.”

Working with the bubbling cauldron in the humid room made the glass of water a welcome sight. It only took seconds for her arms to return to normal. She wiggled her fingers as they solidified.

She reached into the trunk, and her hands rubbed the starched edges of the clothing. Her gait was off as she wobbled to the door backward, toe to heel.

“Wait!” George said. “Are you feeling okay? You’re walking backward, like the insect.”

Sophie Mae laughed. “Just kidding, Mr. George.”

“Ah, I see you have a sense of humor. Get going with those clothes.”

She turned to the door, confused. “Where do I put these?”

“Just place them on the kitchen table, and the others will sort through it.”

George slid his hands into his pockets and followed her, stopping just outside the doorway. Bruce the Loyal jerked and hissed next to him. George nodded in agreement as he watched her climb the stairs to the kitchen.

“You might be right. That child is inquisitive. Precautions must be taken, or we could have trouble.”

Sophie Mae woke early Tuesday morning and pulled weeds infiltrating the rose garden. Clawing her hands through the fertile soil gave her a sense of purpose and wellness. Myrt worked alongside, humming an old church hymn while Sophie Mae sang.

Mr. Kimall’s truck roared up the drive. Sophie Mae jumped to her feet. “That’s the food delivery. Do you mind if I meet him at the house?”

“Not a terrible idea if you want to eat. Get moving, young’un.”

The speed of her feet along the gravel path impressed her. Since eating almost every day, her body was stronger both mentally and physically.

“Miss Sophie, you’re back.”

“I’m watching over the house while the owner is away,” Sophie Mae lied once again, but this time to protect the invisible residents.

“You’re staying all alone in this big ole house?”

She picked at her thumbnail. “Sure. I used to run a farm by myself.” He looked unconvinced, so she changed the subject. “What did you bring today?”

He shimmied across the kitchen floor, dropping a crate of sugar and flour on the counter. “Oh, you know. A little of this and that.”

Stapled to the crate was a full-color flyer. Sophie Mae tugged it off. “What’s this?”

“The carnival, miss. It travels the northern part of the country during the summer, where the weather is cooler. This year they moved a few blocks because of the Hooverville, but the owner, Brambley, has given free tickets to the people who live there. He offers discounts for locals, which, if I had to wager, was to secure their business when the economy returns. Only heaven knows when that will happen. The government has been doing their best to help.”

“How long will it be in town?”

“Till next Monday is what I’ve heard. They’ve been erecting tents over the weekend for tonight’s opening. Yesterday I took my break in the truck and watched them parade the animals down Main Street to drum up attention. They had the biggest bear I’ve ever seen. I plan to go tonight. Maybe I’ll see you there.”

“I hope so. Thank you for the food. Do I need to pay you?”

“You? ’Course not.”

Mr. Kimall dropped the empty crates to the truck bed and climbed into the driver’s seat, revving the engine.

Sophie Mae waved from the doorway and returned to the flyer on the counter. A real-life bear, not like the stuffed one at Hardie's General Store back home. Grabbing the flyer, she ran to the swinging door and flung it open.

OWW

Hurrying to the other side of the door, she found George pressing a white napkin from the dining room table to his nose, checking it for signs of blood.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. George. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, but I think I might install a window in this confounded door. Can you believe I’ve broken my nose twice this way?”

Sophie Mae shoved the flyer into her dress pocket, and George noticed the colorful text. “What have you got there?”

“Oh. The carnival’s in town. Mr. Kimall gave me this flyer. Do you want to go with me?”

George pored over the paper, entranced. “I wish I could, but I’ve important work to do, and need to get back to it.” Handing her the flyer, he turned on his heel and lumbered to the delivery door.

Sophie Mae skipped steps on her way to the second story. Dink wasn’t in her room, so she bounced back to the first floor and bolted out the double doors to check the Mayville’s cottage.

Mary Louise peered through the slit in the barn doors. Her tail swooshed at George who trudged through the dewy grass toward the barn. The fresh morning air was the best part of her day.

George slipped on the loose dirt as he opened the massive barn door. Mary Louise squeezed through the small opening, pinning him against the wood. Jogging free, she closed her eyes and faced the sun. “Can you not come sooner in the morning? I would like to see the sunrise.”

He remained silent as he braced the doors open. There was no talk of new potions or ideas that lingered in his continually running mind.

“You are quite melancholy today,” Mary Louise said.

“Am I?”

Squinting, she walked close to him. “Yes. Something of great importance is on your mind. Do tell me what is bothering you? I can be a superb listener.”

George snickered. “You, a superb listener? It doesn’t matter if you are or not, there’s nothing wrong with me.”

“George,” Mary Louise whispered. When he didn’t answer, she whispered again, “The Great?”

“Okay. I’ll tell you, but you can’t overreact. I met with Ernest Wade a few days back. He kept mentioning my prior life in poverty. I don’t know what he’s talking about. Maybe he’s going mad.”

“But you did live in squalor. You confided in me when we first met. Your dysfunctional family and poor living conditions are why you left Arkansas to work at the university.”

“Now, you?” George leaned on the barn. “Come to think of it, I can’t remember anything before the university. Not my parents or even a family pet.”

“Oh, George. You have done it this time. What potion have you tested?”

“None, well except using the box to travel, but…”

“Your tinkering has finally failed you. That box reads your memories. Can it be possible it also has the power to change and rearrange them?”

He tugged his vest firmly. “Nonsense. How could I forget my childhood? It’s half my life.”

“Imagine if the box had removed the memories of your younger life. Would you remember that you had forgotten?”

“Where are you going with this?”

“I advise you to destroy the box once and for all. If you are indeed losing memories, you might lose the days you served at the university. Your alchemy training is in significant danger, and without your potion, I may lose the ability to speak.”

Mary Louise watched as he stared dazed. Using the tip of her trunk, she gave him a push. George flinched and surged from the barn wall. “Did I tell you the carnival is in town?”

Her trunk rested on his shoulder. “Are we going to look for him?”

“Not this time. I’ve work to finish. Now, don’t go wandering off by yourself. You know I want to find your friend as much as you do, but this is one carnival we must skip.”

“But, George—”

“No buts. Promise me you won’t go looking for Gus.”

Mary Louise swung her trunk side to side, avoiding eye contact. George grabbed it and gave her a stern look.

“I promise,” she huffed. “I would not dare travel so far on my own.”

“It’s for your own good. I’ll come see you later this afternoon.”

Mary Louise tracked his scent as he rushed toward the main house. Tiptoeing along the tree line and past the sitting room windows, she scanned the front gate. Leggy, who’d followed Mary Louise, yanked her tail. “Do not worry about me, Leggy. I will be fine. Keep him distracted until I return.”

Mary Louise used the tip of her trunk to unlatch the front gate, a minor trick she picked up in the circus.

Downtown, the sidewalk overflowed with people standing in line for bread and butter. Policemen strolled, keeping their eyes open for line jumpers and pickpockets.

Mary Louise stuck to the grassy medians of the road, where she tiptoed to minimize the pounding of her feet. A young girl cried out, stopping Mary Louise midstep.

“Look, mommy. An elephant!”

Being noticed by children was common for Mary Louise. Kids had a way of seeing what was real, like Santa or the Tooth Fairy, and in Mary Louise’s case, a giant land mammal tiptoeing through town.

The angry mother snatched the child’s lollipop. “We’ll have no more of that, if you please. Such foolish imagination is the reason our country is in dire straits.”

The child’s eyes welled with tears and burst into a screaking cry. Mary Louise lifted her front feet and balanced on a single hind leg. The old circus trick produced a faint smile across her wet cheeks. Mary Louise gathered the carnation from her head and blew it to the child, who laughed and snorted until the red-faced mother pushed the stroller faster.

Mary Louise reached the edge of town and rested in the shadow of a tree for several hours with her invisibility up. She didn’t want to take any chances of being returned to the circus.

Lifting her ears to the wind, she heard a cheerful tune played by an accordion and trumpet. It pointed her in the right direction.

A painted sign clung to the train station wall and directed carnival-goers farther down the street to the entrance. Half a dozen carnies crowded the main entrance, draping the last of the clear light bulbs from the corner of each building.

Mary Louise returned to the employee gate and walked along the chain link fence hastily put up by the workers. Every last inch of ground was covered with army-style pup tents for housing, leaving little space for airflow.

She crossed to the train tracks and rushed past the flatbeds that hauled the rides, knowing the animal cages were farther down. The sky turned to gold as the sun raced to the horizon. Mary Louise wiped her forehead with her trunk. She needed to work fast.

Flamingos overcrowded the first cage, and an empty pool meant to hold water sat dry. Their normal, bright pink color looked more like the dull pink of a pastel chicken egg. They stood wing to wing in silence, each sleeping on a single leg.

A tarp covered the bars of the next car, and she lifted the corner with her trunk. Mary Louise staggered backward and fell to her hind legs at the snapping of an albino alligator.

“I beg your pardon!” she flustered.

A familiar scent led her passed several cars to the last cage. Sitting alone in the corner was her friend Gus Grizzly. The bear’s coarse, dull fur matted around his neck. His nails were far too long and painted red for effect.

Peanut shells crunched under her weight as she approached the cage. The frightened bear turned to the far wall, tucking his arms and legs.

Willing herself visible would be dangerous in such a place, but she had no choice. “Gus, it is me, Mary—uh, Elephana. My dear friend, do you not recognize me?”

Gus sniffed the breeze once, then twice. His eyes burst open. Crawling to the bars, he cuddled her trunk. Tears darkened the gray wrinkles along Mary Louise’s cheeks. “I have been searching for you since the day they sold you to that awful carnival owner. I will never let you out of my sight again.”