Carnival Souls

An Expressive Talent

The soft whisperings of wind ruffled Owen's hair and raised goosebumps on his arms. Though he could feel the air and see the trees bend and wave in its force, he could not hear anything except the music. It was as though a god had taken a deep breath and sucked all sound from the night—the hum of cicadas, the buzzing of street lamps, radios and televisions—and when he breathed back out, it was nothing but silent wind and sweet musical vibrations.

The darkness around him seemed to shift radially, blurring and softening his surroundings so that only the path right in front of him was clearly focused.

All of these things should have been warning signs, but Owen felt a sense of peace steal over him for the second time that day. And just like before, it seemed to cushion his body and instill a sense of completeness in him, like a fond memory he had forgotten until now.

Without making a conscious decision, his body angled in the direction of the source and he began walking. Much like the other sounds that should have filled the night, Owen could not feel his feet hitting the concrete. Had he not looked down briefly to see his shoes making contact with the ground, he might have thought he was floating to his destination.

He passed darkened store fronts, homes quiet behind white fences, streets empty except for parked cars and trash barrels and passed not a single soul. It wasn't long before he realized the music was leading him to the fields behind the high school; where the carnival had been earlier that day.

It was supposed to have packed up and moved on by nightfall, but as he crested the rise that overlooked the baseball fields, he saw that the faire was still very much there. Flags waved in the breeze and lanterns were lit at regular intervals along the footpaths between tents and rides. The Ferris wheel was lit and turning slowly, though there didn't appear to be anyone on it. Closest to his left was the fun house and the balcony he and his friends has staked out all day. Was it a trick of the carnival lights or were there shadowy figures moving in the reflection of the fun house mirrors?

The music he had been following swelled and turned his attention back to the center of the field. He could almost imagine the sound as a visible, tangible thing rising in a mist, shedding glittering dust over the attractions and marquees, and sliding out to coil around his middle and pull him forward. A need to be closer to the music overtook him and he nearly slipped on his way down the grassy incline to the throughway.

He hurried through the carnival without taking much notice of his surroundings. For some strange reason, he had the feeling that the source of the sound held the answers to all of the problems plaguing him and his family, a way to circumvent the obstacles that kept cropping up in front of him without warning. Owen skidded to a stop near the pitching mound of the baseball field, throwing up a cloud of dust that stung his eyes and made him cough.

When it cleared, he blinked the grit from his eyes and stared in wonder and confusion at the sight before him. The carousel, the one with the beautifully carved hoses, loomed before him, seeming to have doubled in size from when he had first seen it. And sitting astride one of the horses, playing a violin with furious abandon, eyes closed, and fingers blurring, was the girl from earlier that day. Her lavender-tinged hair fell over her shoulder in long curls, shining in the halos of light cast by the ride's roof, and her face shown with a light sheen of sweat as she lost herself in her playing.

There was slight crease to her brow as though the music was costing her a great internal effort and her body swayed with the rise and fall of sound until suddenly it cut off and her bow fell to the wooden platform with a clatter.

The silence that rushed in to fill the void was complete and shocking, like taking a step forward only to find yourself falling off a cliff. Owen's hand went to the back of his neck where a prickling feeling was crawling its way up his scalp.