Cirque Du Freak

“Tell me about it!” I groaned. “No allowance, grounded for a month, and Dad said I’m going to have to do a bunch of chores. Still,” I said with a grin, “it was worth it, right? I mean, was the Cirque Du Freak superb or what!”

Steve studied me for one more moment, then decided I was telling the truth. “Yeah,” he said, returning my smile. “It was great.”

Tommy and Alan arrived and we had to tell them everything. We were pretty good actors, Steve and I. You’d never have guessed that he had spoken to a vampire on Saturday, or that I had seen him.

I could tell, as the day wore on, that things would never be quite the same between me and Steve. Even though he believed what I’d told him, part of him still doubted me. I caught him looking at me oddly from time to time, as though I was someone who had hurt him.

For my part, I didn’t want to get too close to him any longer. It scared me, what he’d said to Mr. Crepsley, and what the vampire had said to him. Steve was evil, according to Crepsley. It worried me. After all, Steve was prepared to become a vampire and kill people for their blood. How could I go on being friends with someone like that?

We were chatting about Madam Octa later that afternoon. Steve and I hadn’t said much about Mr. Crepsley and his spider. We were afraid to talk about him, in case we let something slip. But Tommy and Alan kept pestering us and eventually we filled them in on the act.

“How do you think he controlled the spider?” Tommy asked.

“Maybe it was a fake spider,” Alan said.

“It wasn’t a fake,” I snorted. “None of the freaks were fake. That was why it was so brilliant. You could tell everything was real.”

“So how did he control it?” Tommy asked again.

“Maybe the flute is magic,” I said, “or else Mr. Crepsley knows how to charm spiders, the way Indians can charm snakes.”

“But you said Mr. Tall controlled the spider, too,” Alan said, “when Mr. Crepsley had Madam Octa in his mouth.”

“Oh. Yeah. I forgot,” I said. “Well, I guess that means they must have used magic flutes.”

“They didn’t use magic flutes,” Steve said. He had been quiet most of the day, saying less than me about the show, but Steve never could resist hammering someone with facts.

“So what did they use?” I asked.

“Telepathy,” Steve answered.

“Is that something to do with telephones?” Alan asked.

Steve smiled, and Tommy and I laughed (although I wasn’t entirely sure what ?telepathy? meant, and I bet Tommy wasn’t either). “Moron!” Tommy chuckled, and punched Alan playfully.

“Go on, Steve,” I said, “tell him what it means.”

“Telepathy is when you can read somebody else’s mind,” Steve explained, “or send them thoughts without speaking. That’s how they controlled the spider, with their minds.”

“So what’s with the flutes?” I asked.

“Either they’re just for show,” Steve said, “or, more likely, you need them to attract her attention.”

“You mean anyone could control her?” Tommy asked.

“Anyone with a brain, yes,” Steve said. “Which counts you out, Alan,” he added, but smiled to show he didn’t mean it.

“You wouldn’t need magic flutes or special training or anything?” Tommy asked.

“I don’t think so,” Steve answered.

The talk moved on to something else after that soccer, I think but I wasn’t listening. Because all of a sudden there was a new thought running through my mind, setting my brain on fire with ideas. I forgot about Steve and vampires and everything.

“You mean anyone could control her?”

“Anyone with a brain, yes.”

“You wouldn’t need magic flutes or special training or anything?”

“I don’t think so.”

Tommy’s and Steve’s words kept bouncing through my mind, over and over, like a stuck CD.

Anyone could control her. That anyone could be me. If I could get my hands on Madam Octa and communicate with her, she could be my pet and I could control her and…

No. It was foolish. Maybe I could control her, but I would never own her. She was Mr. Crepsley’s and there was no way in the world that he would part with her, not for money or jewels or…

The answer hit me in a flash. A way to get her from him. A way to make her mine. Blackmail! If I threatened the vampire I could say I’d get the police after him he’d have to let me keep her.

But the thought of going face to face with Mr. Crepsley terrified me. I knew I couldn’t do it. That left just one other option: I’d have to steal her!