to Oswald, but a little differently. He could cope personally with how fast technology was advancing, but he saw further than anyone else. He didn't like what he saw. He told me once that we had too much knowledge and too little wisdom, that we were learning too fast. He said it terrified him."
After a moment Gideon said slowly, "So he just... retreated? Retired to an anachronism?"
"I suppose. Do you like Rajah?" She reached between the bars to scratch the tiger behind one lazy ear.
Gideon accepted the change of subject and looked at the drowsy tiger. "Beautiful. He seems tame enough."
Maggie began walking again toward another of the wagons. "Looks can be deceptive, especially with tigers." Her voice was bland. "There's muscle underneath the stripes. And a wide-awake predator behind the sleepy eyes."
Walking beside her, Gideon asked, "Is that a pointed reference?"
"That," she said, "was an observation." She stopped and reached out to knock lightly on the jamb of an open door. "Lamont," she called, "come out and meet Gideon."
A clown in full makeup—minus his red nose— immediately came out and sat down on the top step. He looked at Gideon, said, "Hi," in a distracted voice, and then looked mournfully at Maggie. It was something of a triumph that he could assume that expression, since a wide red smile was painted on his face.
"You should have a spare," she told him sternly.
"Well, I don't." Other than his makeup and a riotous wig of yellow hair, Lamont was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. He was, Gideon realized, hardly more than a kid. He reached up to finger his naked nose and gave Maggie another sad stare.
"Ill go into town sometime today," she told him, "and try to find another nose for you. All right?"
He nodded, still fingering his nose. "All right. Maybe you'll see Jasper there."
Maggie looked faintly surprised. "He's in town?"
"Well, sure. I mean, he must be, right?"
Gideon had the strangest impression that a silent message passed between the two of them, though there was no change of expression on either side.
After an instant Maggie nodded. "Beau's about to cast a shoe, Lamont. Maybe you'd better look at him."
"Okay. Nice meeting you," he added vaguely to Gideon, then scrambled off the steps and wandered away.
Maggie moved in the opposite direction toward a rather large tent pitched some yards away.
"What's Lamont's story?" Gideon asked her.
She glanced at him, a very faint crease between her brows. "Lamont? He's our blacksmith in addition to being a clown."
"I gathered that. I mean, why did he join the carnival?"
"Wonderland happened to be passing through his town a couple of years ago. He was sixteen, and he thought he'd better leave home."
"Why?"
She stopped and gazed up at him. "His father had some problems, and Lamont suffered for them."
"Abuse?" Gideon said slowly.
Maggie nodded. "It's funny about kids and clowns. Lamont never laughed very much as a kid, but now he paints on a smile and makes the kids laugh. He's still very insecure and anxious. That's why he worries about losing things."
"Why does he wear the makeup all the time?"
"Because he wants to. Maybe because he can't quite smile without the paint. Not yet, anyway." She began walking.
After a moment Gideon followed. He didn't much like this. He wanted the carnival's future to be a side issue between them, and Maggie was forcing it center stage. He didn't resent the compassion for these people that he was beginning to feel— but he was aware of other feelings creeping in to disturb him.
This place meant a lot to her, he could see that. He couldn't help but wonder how much. Enough so that Maggie was willing to make herself part of a package deal? She was showing him these people as individuals, all of whom truly had nowhere else they could fit in—but what if he ignored emotion and made the logical decision to sell? Would her next ploy be to offer herself in exchange for an assured future for the carnival?
How much of her
After a moment Gideon said slowly, "So he just... retreated? Retired to an anachronism?"
"I suppose. Do you like Rajah?" She reached between the bars to scratch the tiger behind one lazy ear.
Gideon accepted the change of subject and looked at the drowsy tiger. "Beautiful. He seems tame enough."
Maggie began walking again toward another of the wagons. "Looks can be deceptive, especially with tigers." Her voice was bland. "There's muscle underneath the stripes. And a wide-awake predator behind the sleepy eyes."
Walking beside her, Gideon asked, "Is that a pointed reference?"
"That," she said, "was an observation." She stopped and reached out to knock lightly on the jamb of an open door. "Lamont," she called, "come out and meet Gideon."
A clown in full makeup—minus his red nose— immediately came out and sat down on the top step. He looked at Gideon, said, "Hi," in a distracted voice, and then looked mournfully at Maggie. It was something of a triumph that he could assume that expression, since a wide red smile was painted on his face.
"You should have a spare," she told him sternly.
"Well, I don't." Other than his makeup and a riotous wig of yellow hair, Lamont was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. He was, Gideon realized, hardly more than a kid. He reached up to finger his naked nose and gave Maggie another sad stare.
"Ill go into town sometime today," she told him, "and try to find another nose for you. All right?"
He nodded, still fingering his nose. "All right. Maybe you'll see Jasper there."
Maggie looked faintly surprised. "He's in town?"
"Well, sure. I mean, he must be, right?"
Gideon had the strangest impression that a silent message passed between the two of them, though there was no change of expression on either side.
After an instant Maggie nodded. "Beau's about to cast a shoe, Lamont. Maybe you'd better look at him."
"Okay. Nice meeting you," he added vaguely to Gideon, then scrambled off the steps and wandered away.
Maggie moved in the opposite direction toward a rather large tent pitched some yards away.
"What's Lamont's story?" Gideon asked her.
She glanced at him, a very faint crease between her brows. "Lamont? He's our blacksmith in addition to being a clown."
"I gathered that. I mean, why did he join the carnival?"
"Wonderland happened to be passing through his town a couple of years ago. He was sixteen, and he thought he'd better leave home."
"Why?"
She stopped and gazed up at him. "His father had some problems, and Lamont suffered for them."
"Abuse?" Gideon said slowly.
Maggie nodded. "It's funny about kids and clowns. Lamont never laughed very much as a kid, but now he paints on a smile and makes the kids laugh. He's still very insecure and anxious. That's why he worries about losing things."
"Why does he wear the makeup all the time?"
"Because he wants to. Maybe because he can't quite smile without the paint. Not yet, anyway." She began walking.
After a moment Gideon followed. He didn't much like this. He wanted the carnival's future to be a side issue between them, and Maggie was forcing it center stage. He didn't resent the compassion for these people that he was beginning to feel— but he was aware of other feelings creeping in to disturb him.
This place meant a lot to her, he could see that. He couldn't help but wonder how much. Enough so that Maggie was willing to make herself part of a package deal? She was showing him these people as individuals, all of whom truly had nowhere else they could fit in—but what if he ignored emotion and made the logical decision to sell? Would her next ploy be to offer herself in exchange for an assured future for the carnival?
How much of her
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