Nightmare Carnival

For a moment, Mae felt the earth hesitate, everything gone still. Then Madelaine screamed, not her normal trumpeting but a cry of pain so deep Mae felt as if her own lungs were on fire. The elephant backed up, swinging her head frantically from side to side, ears flapping. The driver stood and swung his whip at the huge haunches pushing the pony to one side, then jumped off as Madelaine rammed into the wagon, tilting it dangerously. It teetered for a stomach-wrenching moment, then came down hard enough for a wheel to come off and throw Mae through the doors onto the now-empty driver’s seat.

Mae saw Madelaine spit out the cigar, now chewed into shreds, then whack her trunk hard against the man who had fed it to her. The impact threw him several yards, where he landed on his back. Stunned, he was struggling onto his elbows as Madelaine bore down on him, his eyes going wide just before she lifted one massive foot and slammed it onto his head. His skull exploded like a ripe watermelon, bloody brains squirting out in a grisly pulp.

The crowd screamed and ran, barging into one another mindlessly, slipping in the mud. The four young elephants bolted in the confusion, knocking North over as well. An old man, no shirt under his coveralls, white beard stained with tobacco juice, fired a shotgun into the air. As the crowd split away from him in panic as well, he pumped the shotgun and fired it again, this time into Madelaine’s side. She trumpeted, more startled than hurt, lashing out blindly with her trunk, turning around in a circle, mashing the dead body underfoot even further. North had staggered back upright and spotted Mae climbing down out of the wagon toward them.

“Hey, Rube!” he shouted, nearly unheard over the din of the crowd. Instantly, Max and Eric vaulted from the wagon; ride jockeys and riggers and roustabouts alike plowed into the mob, fists flailing. Mae stumbled across the rutted road to throw her arms around Madelaine’s trunk, and felt the elephant wrap it around her so tightly she nearly couldn’t breathe. Blood trickled from the bullet wounds in the elephant’s thick hide, dripping onto Mae’s arms and head. She could feel Madelaine trembling.

“My God, it’s killing her, too!” someone shouted. “Kill the elephant!”

“Round me at twilight come stealing,” Mae started to sing, breathless with fear, stroking the elephant’s trunk. “Shadows of days that are gone. ”

Madelaine exhaled, like a huge sigh from a thundercloud, then lowered her head, her trunk loosening. “Dreams of the old days revealing. ” The elephant stood still, then gently began to rock in time with Mae’s song. “Mem’ries of love’s golden dawn. ”

The Bishop pushed his way through the brawling crowd, his top hat nearly crushed on his head, stopped, and exchanged a look with Mae. She kept singing, low and steady, as the Bishop took it in, all of it, the three of them as isolated in the midst of the riot as had they been in the big top spotlit by banjo lights.

“Kill the elephant! Kill the elephant!” Mae saw the preacher, his black frock flapping around him like crow’s wings as he pumped his arms, the chanting growing louder in anger, his face contorted with rage and glee.

North stumbled into the charmed circle, nose bleeding, knuckles raw, but a glint of wild joy in his eyes that faded as soon as he saw the Bishop.

“Get the chains on her, now,” the Bishop ordered sharply.

Madelaine made no protest as North wrapped foot chains around back legs. “Keep singin’ to her, Mae,” he said.

“Childhood days, wild wood days, among the birds and bees. ”

Madelaine allowed North to chain both her front feet as well, even holding up one leg helpfully to make it easier for him to slip the shackle on, her foot still stained with brains and blood. A cheer went up from the crowd as four uniformed policemen with batons pushed their way through to where Madelaine stood submissively, her trunk now resting limply around Mae’s shoulders, sensitive nostrils blowing hot on her neck.

“Get away from there, miss,” one of them shouted at her in alarm.

She glared back at him, and held onto Madelaine’s trunk, not caring that her deformed hands were in plain view. “You left me alone, but still you’re my own,” she kept singing. “In my beautiful memories.”

“She’s safe enough now,” North said heatedly to the policeman. “So why don’t you calm these folks down before you’ve got more to worry about than this here elephant?”