Medical Marvels, Mysteries & Miracles...

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It's a lot like drowning. ('When is home not home?' rings through his head like their combined laughter, an icy warmth crawling indiscriminately across bare and covered flesh, corpse-cold fingers and hot-hot heat.) Bile rises up in Stan's throat when he sees Horror's latest gift, sly little insinuation sitting inside the only private space Carnival's youngest boy calls his own. He's loathe to touch them, these tiny handmade talismans, these delicate little doom-portents. Rather than do so, he stands alone and catches his breath -- it's all too easy to slide into rising panic which bumps against the back of his knees. Horror's influence latches on to Stan's existing insecurities, so fighting against that sensation of blood-temperature bathwater, that 'lie back, it won't hurt a bit (until it does)' is fighting against himself. Stan resists the urge to pant like a dog, ignores the knife's-edge tang at the back of his throat and is barely aware of how his hands tense tight into fists, until close-cropped fingernails draw red-rimmed crescent moons across his palms.

He's been good. He's done everything the Professor demanded. He let Vee go without a fight; without a word, even. And now? Now there's this.

Ultimately, Stan does the only thing he can think of. He staggers out of his tent, away from those staring-glaring-smiling little glass eyes, and vomits up his fear right onto the ground outside. When he comes back in, it's with the slow hesitation of an older man, and though he doesn't sense the fracture, it's there. The rest of the evening is spent sitting bent-backed across an old trunk, hours whiled away with a bottle of rotgut between his feet and a deck of cards shuffled mindlessly through his clever hands, and Stan staring and being stared at by un-living, too-alive little dolls until the morning decides to roll back around.

Winter's a bad time for the Carnival God. Unlike spring spent south and the hot summer which drives them north, winter is the dying season, the shuffle indoors where show shuts down and all which keeps Archie Lockhart alive is the sheer tenacity of his carnies, those tendon-tough survivors a breed of their own. He ages drastically, going from fit as a fiddle, sound as a drum man in his thirty-forties to old, old, old. Gibtown's cold comfort; most of the men and women who made it magical are dead now, sideshow entrepreneurs having left behind only rusting relics and the occasional headstone. Archie, whose fondness for sleeping under the stars has startled more than one new addition to Midway Plaisance, is forced to spend his evenings under a roof and oh how it chafes him, so that his calliope music laugh fades into nothingness.

Winter is when he sits in the sun like an old man, Joe by his side, and they soak up what little warmth they can while smoking hand-rolled cigarette after hand-rolled cigarette. (They're messy affairs, pieced together with hands which tremble just enough to make Archie's lip curl in disgust and that place where his heart ought to live pine for summer again, hot hot heat and dust clogging up his throat as he barks out pitches for the 10-in-One.) Winter, then: not yet spring.

( They're but days away from Halloween, and not a one of them is liable to forget it. )

And a good time was had by all.

Midway Plaisance has circled back; they're in Louisiana, enjoying a city full of decadence and disrepair. Management sent Stan on -- not ahead, as per tradition, but far out on to New York City. He's to meet with a certain half-and-half, the Professor tells Stanley, and though the young man's hesitant to leave home yet again, he obeys his father's commands.

Secretly, he's a bit relieved at the task. Not because there's any measure of trust implied; Stan's more cautious around the old man than ever, lives daily on tenterhooks while he waits for the axe to fall. No, it's because October is around the corner. He remembers the slow, creeping dread of that month, remembers it clear as a bell despite the fact that this is Horror's first October with the carnival in two decades.

He feels a pang of guilt at leaving the others behind. It doesn't stop him from packing a bag and disappearing in the middle of the night.

October's just 'round the bend. The show's lifers, the ones who've been picking pockets since the 1980s, they feel their shoulders tighten with anticipation. Horror rode with the show back during those hard years, back when Cold was Colden. Just because the monster's changed its face doesn't mean they've forgotten, and tension infects every carny like wildfire.

There's a bad moon rising, and it looks like the Professor's smile.

Glory, glory, ain't no time like the fall time! Summer's over, children. Let's go out with a bang before we retire off to warmer climes for the winter.

10-in-One's lookin' a bit thin for my tastes. They don't make spider-women, mermaids or half-and-halves the way they used to.

Stan could answer Cold's request for a "family" dinner. He could.

But he can't. The timing -- like always -- is all wrong, and suspicion of being suspicious floods his heart with high anxiety. The Carnival's son doesn't say a word to Horror's daughter for fear of eyetracks. (They may not have many walls and so maybe there aren't many ears, but he knows. Even when he ignores it, he knows his father's aware and watching at all times.) Neither does he approach Feenix; no point in getting his brother any more involved than he already is.

In the end he takes a page from the roustabouts' book and goes quiet, keeping his head down. Stan doesn't actually believe the ploy will work, but maybe this once they'll watch his left hand while his right right hides the real trick.

Lock up your daughters, lock up your sons.

Archie takes his carnival to the dregs of Southern California, a place where they can strip away the facade of respectability they needed to wear whilst traveling through Utah and parts of Arizona. Here they can let their hair down -- there isn't an old showhand who doesn't speak Spanish like they'd been born to it, and the new blood'll learn quick enough. This desert wasteland is home inside home, the traveling show's matryoshka.

Their first night, Management tells everyone "out". Scoot, git, skedaddle off to town and dance or drink your cares away. It's publicity for the show as much as a ploy for his own ends. The day after (and the day after and the day after), he encourages Horror's daughter to ride with his youngest son. Go on in to town, pick up supplies, scout ahead if you wanna.

It's almost fatherly. When the kids do finally concede and leave (because who dares to say no to the man-thing in his own house?), Archie invariably comes up behind Cold and places a warm hand on her thin shoulder. He smiles every time, big and bright and worryingly inscrutable.

[Locked from Management & Horror]
Spending the fourth in Tennessee has been somethin' else; the fireworks were a good distraction. Loud, but I'm not about to complain when it keeps the Professor from kicking my ass to the curb again scouting for new showmen. Anyhow, we've got the ongoing debate of Tennessee bourbon v. Tennessee whiskey to settle.

Oh, it's gonna be a red letter day.

Put on your best and brightest, children! Make Management proud tonight.

Brace yourselves, ladies and gentlefolk, for the carnival is about to hit your very doorstep! The finest show in all the world, Midway Plaisance is the place for all your dreams to become reality, and all your realities to become naught more than dreams! A fine, free show, step up and mind your toes, because we're gonna roll into town and shake away those dreary days before you can say "blueberry pie"!

We've got fire eaters, knife throwers, feats of legerdemain, a fat lady big as the Statue of Liberty herself! "What else?", I hear you ask? There's the beauteous Lady Francesca, bearded lady from the wild country, there's snake charmers who can literally charm the pants right off a man! The strangest and most fantastic 10-in-One in all the country, full of freaks and marvels that'll blow your hat right off your head! Plenty of entertainment for the kids, and more than enough to occupy adults well into the night!

Keep your eyes wide open, ladies and gentlemen, for the most magnificent and mind-shattering puppet show and all its cast of characters is due to arrive with the rest of Midway Plaisance quick as a tick, and this is not something you're going to want to miss! Tell your friends, your neighbors, your neighbor's neighbors -- we're on our way, and by the first week of June, New York City'll be host to all the decadence, all the ghastly glory of the finest acts ever experienced by man or god!

While Horror is happily recuperating and the rest of the carnival is both literally and figuratively getting its act back together, Management spurs them back toward the normal circuit. They're informed that the show's to hurriedly head east, and in their treks there are no more than two nights at any stopping point.

On their way to West Virginia, Archie's kind enough to inform Stasya that her partner in crime's scheduled to rejoin the Midway Plaisance. In the meantime, handbills are left everywhere far and wide -- the show's advertising again, and there are ads appearing across both the Internet and a multitude of print media outlets warning folks that the carnival's coming to town. New York City, this means you.

Not the first town I've been ejected from, and it sure as shootin' isn't going to be the last!

Time to get back on the circuit, my fine young things. Meet us on the road. And don't think Management doesn't know what you've been up to.

(Left in the lobby of Circus Circus for Gambling is a wind-up toy. It plays continuously until the god finds it, at which point it'll slowly die down and turn itself off.)

Las Vegas didn't know what hit 'er.

[Locked from Management & Horror]
Found a new talker, a sword swallower, and -- God help me -- an elephant for sale. He'll like that.

Now it's just some kootch girls dancers and anyone flexible enough to fit inside a blade box. Don't suppose fate wants to be kind and throw me a bone here? Anyone?

Yeah, didn't think so.

( [Private] )

Tonight, we sleep beneath desert stars. Be on your best behavior, children, or it's the clink for you!

Cold, old man! Feel up to accompanying me to visit some grand old dames? I think Circus Circus is right up your alley, m'dear.

( [Locked from Management] )

A damned literal "now is the winter of our discontent". This is the last time we go off circuit for man or god -- Holly, girl, I did like you asked, but not a peep. You don't burn a man like this and walk away scot-free.

We're gonna make some big changes to get back on track, and if I've got to break strong men's backs to put this show in order, then that's what we're gonna do. This year, it's all-out. New shows, new tricks. This year's about nostalgia, ladies and gentlemen. Everything old is new again! We're looking back to the good old days and turning it on its pretty head.

And Cold, my splendid companion! We're gearing up for some spring cleaning. Hope you don't mind that I left you a few things I found in storage.

( [Corvina] )

Hoboy.

Fantastically, fabulously tired, but damned if it don't feel good. We're breaking from the circuit and wintering in California rather than the usual Florida. It's been a long, strange year -- just how I like 'em! -- and the show is settling down for a well-deserved rest.

Take a breather, children. You've done us proud, but spring will be here knocking on our door soon enough!

In the meantime! Stanley, m'boy, start investigating what some additional performers will run us. If I can't have my pachyderm, then I want Siamese twins!

We're off the circuit and we picked up with a brand new act without show consultation. This is weird wrong unusual. I don't like it.

[Note left for Jack by Archie.]

Feenix is heading out to Nueva Laredo. Tail him. Be quiet about it.

- Management

Six more days of anticipation, expectation and contemplation! We may not be set up in a comfortable suburban neighborhood or the type of folks who'll be handing out candy, but damned if I'm not looking forward to the big day!

( [Horror] )

Hell almighty, the weather out here... Shreveport's a go, Professor. You can pack 'em up as soon as you want -- we're good for a three-day weekend. The locals are aching for another Mardi Gras, so might want to consider hamming it up.

I can be back by close tonight, soon as I gas up the truck.

( [Corvina] )

A jaunt down to Texas, then westward ho and we're off to California before the weather turns. To keep my band of roustabouts on their toes, the show may just be wintering there rather than Florida. We'll see how well Midway Plaisance and all its glories are received by the locals first.

Feenix! How goes our newest addition to your act? I want a full report from each of you delightful delinquents before we pack it up.

Stanley, boy, you're off to Shreveport. Clear the way for what will be a brief stay -- three days maximum. And keep your eye on the prize, boy, rather than young misses. I'm old, not blind; slacking in your duties won't earn you anything pleasant.

( [Horror] )

Pennsylvania's as fit as she's liable to get after our stay. The Midway Plaisance is on a firm course toward Georgia next. We'll be playing overnights -- two days a pop if the weather holds, three if the money flows freely at best until we arrive at the Empire State of the South.

Now let's see if Southern hospitality is as good as they say it is.

Pennsylvania! Virtue, liberty and independence! Or something to that quaint effect. The show has moved on past Philly and settled in Allentown, a good working man's place where the folk could afford a proper shake-up. And perhaps a bit of indulgence, t'boot -- any state that names its towns things like Bethlehem can obviously afford the carnival's tender touch!

The weather is cooling and fall fast approaches, which means time for the country's finest performers to hustle and bustle before we head to warmer climes.

( [Horror] )

Ah, New York, you fine and crass old dame. It's good to have brought the sideshow home, but the time for greener pastures has arrived!

Pack it up, children! Stanley has checked in, and we'll be making our way to Allentown.

...there's no knowing where you might be swept off to."

It's off to Philly this weekend -- time to scout out where the show's gonna be camping when we pack it up and head outta town. I don't know the next time we're gonna be back here.

I think we did okay for ourselves. Dunno about how well I did, though.

I'm heading out to get sauced get laid for the night. Need to get the hell away from camp for a bit. Any suggestions for a watering hole? Don't know enough about this damn city to figure out what's worth going to.

( [Management] )

( [Private] )

Two more weeks before the show leaves town, ladies and gentlemen! The likes of this Carnival is unequaled, unparalleled, and you'll not see shows like ours until we return again next season!

( [Locked to Carnies] )

( [Horror] )

[There are ads placed in Billboard and other more professional arenas, but desperate times, etc. Notices are posted around and about the city in high-traffic areas.]

( Wanted: Professional Performers Of The Highest Caliber )

A more stupendous opening I've not seen since days of yore, and if I'm lyin', I'm dyin'! My fine feathered lads and ladies, you ought to be proud of yourselves for work well done. We'll endeavor to reach even higher every show -- that goes without saying, of course -- but overall I dare say we've made a damned fine impression.

Stanley, my boy! I'd like for you to sniff out the following for potential improvements on the 10-in-One:

- Anatomical wonder
- A new bender
- An elephant
- Tell me how many sword swallowers are available right now, would you?
- We need a full-time talker for the ladies' tent

And of course, Management would be more than delighted were some of our more long-lived compatriots to pay the Midway Plaisance a visit these coming weeks! Your presence is like a balm upon our travel-weary soul, ladies and gentlefolk.

That's right, folks, the Carnival is in town! New York City, bruised beauty that she is, has been kind enough to loan out Coney Island to Midway Plaisance, finest show in all the world! This is the show you've read about, the one you've heard about, and we're coming to town for opening night on Friday, July 31!

Rides, games and feats of wonderment will be on exhibit all evening -- bring your kids, your families, your loved ones and friends, because you won't want to miss what Midway Plaisance has on display!

Ride the towering Colossus or the vintage carousel! Test your luck at games of chance and skill! Don't miss our sideshow, home to fire eaters, bearded ladies, alligator men and other human curiosities!

See: Feenix the Knife Thrower! Master illusionist, Macarius the Magus! Speak of your future with the Madams Zelda and Zorina! More than words can describe is on display at Midway Plaisance, and the carnival will be open to all starting at dusk on Friday, July 31!

( [Notice left for Midway Plaisance workers.] )

[A Midway Plaisance flyer is delivered to The Room c/o Colden Delaney. Attached to the flyer is a letter written in a flourishing, completely over the top hand.]

Colden,

Greetings and salutations, old friend! If you haven't already heard, we'll be visiting the city starting this Thursday and setting up camp for the next few weeks. Young Stanley has let me know that we have the local constables' go-ahead, and it would be an honor and a pleasure for this old man if you join us on our opening night's performance this Friday.

There's been some additions to the sideshow since you and your girl left the family, and oh, there are things you'll want to see with your own eyes! All our best, chum. We'll be waiting for you. And bring Corvina!

- Archie

[Locked from Management]
"Don't get surly", he says. Maybe I'm surly because you kicked me outta my home and told me not to come back.

For the good of the show. I got it, I got it. I'm not dumb; obviously the intentions were good. Doesn't mean it hurt any less. So yeah, throwing me to the rubes felt pretty miserable, but shit, Boss, that doesn't mean I'm not going to do my job. I got that damned degree, didn't I?

There just isn't any pleasing some folk.

Dad Archie Boss,

Hit the city last night and made a few phone calls. I'll be meeting with folks this morning to get the ball rolling for setup. They're going to raise a fuss about the kootch tent -- you know that, right? Of course you do, that's why you want to keep it. Anyway, there's some laws about burlesque I'm gonna have to walk through with them. And yeah, before you ask, I already brought my books of the really archaic stuff to haul out.

Tell Dorrie to crack a smile, and I'll send up a flare as soon as it's safe to roll in. Don't expect to sit too long.

- Stan

P.S. - Don't think I didn't notice that we're down a dancer and a contortionist. If you wanted me to go scouting talent, you could have just said so.