Chapter 15 | A Rocket to the Stars

Pythia’s in a trance, sitting in lotus position on a cushion behind the cauldron, where aromatic vapors rise. She sees into the future and worries about the past, casting dire warnings and admonitions, providing a roadmap to those who care to listen. “The past is ever changing,” according to the Oracle. “It's not fixed, as it seems. Ask two people what happened yesterday, you'll hear three different answers. Ask them again tomorrow, the answers will have changed, along with what will occur as a result.”

Chessboard is squinting at Pythia’s form, trying to see her as shapes and colors rather than human. His physics don't line up with a bendable past, though he's open to the concept. If he could change the past, he’d get rid of Teeth, now sitting between him and Tulip. Stupid kid, as if he wasn't obviously in love and out of his depth. Chessboard hands the kid some change and says, “go get us some popcorn.” Teeth takes the change but doesn't budge. Chessboard rolls his eyes in Tulip’s direction, and she laughs. “Please, Teeth? Pretty please?” The boy glances over at Chessboard, not quite a glare, then over at Tulip, grinning, his eyes, then his mouth saying, “anything for you.” Chessboard and Tulip look at each other, not wanting to mock their friend. After a moment’s indecision, not wishing to abandon his post, Teeth pulls off his shoes and places them on the bench. “Save my seat.”

Chessboard holds his breath for a moment till the younger boy runs off, then he bursts out laughing. “I'm not touching those shoes.”

“Me neither!” says Tulip. “He's kinda cute, though.”

“Or something else.”

Pythia’s holding up bundles of poison snakes in both hands, chanting with her eyes half closed. They're trying to bite her, but they can't. Even if they did, she's immune after all these years of practice, sleeping in the vipers’ den.

Chessboard’s trying to decipher the Oracle’s message. He's the brain of the group, too smart and big mouthed for his own good, his curiosity encouraged at home but leading to trouble everywhere else. Lately, he's been climbing ladders to see the stars better. None of the ladders are tall enough to get him to the best spots, but any rooftop’s better than staying on the ground. The biggest challenge is finding the ladders. Not every building has them, and some start too high up for him to reach the bottom rung.

“What's she saying?” Tulip asks.

“Dunno. Something Greek, or gibberish.” He thinks she's saying, “what you really need, kid, is a rocket to the stars.” But it might just be Chessboard layering onto the gibberish.

“You're supposed to know everything, smartie.”

“Yeah, well, I can probably figure it out if I breathe in enough of these shoe fumes!”

Tulip holds up a finger. “Shh, she's talking to me.”

“What's she saying?”

Laughing, “she says you like me!”

“Well maybe I do!”

A quieter voice inside Tulip’s head is translating the Oracle’s words. “Your plan is sound.” To live amongst the wild animals like the tamer, Lula Mae, to master the tigers, the fire, the uncontrollable elements. “Don't tell a soul. Your secret is your power. Build a wall of seclusion around you.”

Chessboard is watching. “She really is talking to you!”

Tulip glances at him, wide eyed. “Can you believe it?”

He nods. “She’s showing me stars!”

Just outside, where Teeth is waiting impatiently in the popcorn line, he can hear the lady's voice telling him “leave them alone.”

“No! I don't wanna!” He's Tulip’s protector, after all. Her third wheel that keeps her from falling over. God knows what'll happen if this line doesn’t move faster. An angry kid’s short a nickel, and nobody wants to give it to him. Teeth would give it to him, but then he'd lose his place. And that stupid kid is hollering, making a scene as the man behind the popcorn counter tries to help another customer. The hollering kid’s ears are turning red when his mom finally shows up, yelling, handing him a nickel. “I'm so sorry!” she says to the man, who offers the boy a bag of popcorn, but he refuses. “That's some weird kid ya got, lady,” a voice calls out from the crowd. She spins to try and identify the attacker, but it's hard to tell from everyone laughing.

The third eye on the angry kid’s forehead looks real. It opens and closes when he contorts his face. Teeth is sure there's something wrong with him, that's why nobody would give him a nickel except for his mom, who shouldn't have let him loose, anyway.

The line is finally starting to move again, once the boy accepts his bag of popcorn. Teeth is sure Chessboard and Tulip are holding hands by now, if not gone to the outskirts where the big kids make out and smoke cigarettes with the clowns on break. Just because he's a few months younger doesn't mean he doesn't know what goes on. It's tough being a protector, especially around Tulip. She says she protects herself. Well then why doesn't she? “For a big kid, she sure is stupid around boys.”

“Huh?” Third Eye is staring Teeth down. “What's wrong with you? Why are you talking to yourself?” He shoves Teeth hard before his mom pulls him away. “I'm so sorry,” says the mom, as her son throws a fistful of popcorn at Teeth. “Stop it, or I’ll drag you home this instant!”

“You ok, kid?” It's Tulip, and Teeth is simultaneously ecstatic to see her and horrified that she witnessed him being shoved by that little creep.

“Ain't nothin,” he lies. To make things worse, Chessboard pulls in behind Tulip and puts his hands on her shoulders. “Go get your shoes, we're going to go see the rocket.”

Teeth ditches the line and runs to go get his shoes. But he knows the trick. When he gets back, they'll be gone, and they won't be at the rocket, either. They won't be anywhere he looks. But he'll look, regardless, and by the time he's done, he'll be as angry as Third Eye. Maybe he'll find the little punk, instead, and punch him in the face for that shove. But he knows he won't find the angry kid anywhere. He won't find anyone he wants to, and what's he going to do now that Tulip is gone?

His sneakers are right where he left them. With this pair, he can fly, like Hermes! He’ll cover the entire circus in seconds and cast a layer of protection over Tulip! He puts on his shoes and ties them sloppily, tripping as he tries to take off. “You sure are stupid!” cries Third Eye from too far to do anything about it. Teeth ties his laces more carefully this time, rising with his best version of dignity. Then he flies off to find his girl.