Free A Lesson for the Cyclops by Jeffrey Getzin Page B

for what other people do. They make their own decisions. Alfredo may be an obnoxious boor, but that didn’t force Conchinara to come to my tent. You may have been a brainless girl, but that didn’t force the Duke to take your virginity. It didn’t force him to take you away from your home. It didn’t force your father to disown you. It didn’t force poor, stupid Hernando to commit suicide. And it didn’t force his parents to exact such a horrible vengeance on you.
    “They made their own decisions,” D’Arbignal said. “You made your mistake, and they made theirs. And by the Icy Inferno, you’ve paid more for your mistake than any woman ever should.”
    “I’m not a woman,” she said. “I’m a thing.”
    D’Arbignal leaned in and kissed her once, gently on the lips. She felt her legs turn to rubber.
    “No,” he said, “you’re a woman. Trust me: I have plenty of experience with women.”
    The Cyclops stared at him, open-mouthed.
    D’Arbignal adjusted the lace on his shirt. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a show to put on.”
    He moved to exit the tent.
    “But …” the Cyclops said, her mind spinning.
    “Yes?” He lingered at the exit.
    She fumbled for words. She couldn’t think.
    “You … you said you had another item for me in your bag?”
    D’Arbignal grinned, and his smile lit up her heart.
    “Meet me by the creek tonight after we shut down, and I’ll show you,” he said and left.

Chapter 25
    She put on the wig before leaving her tent. Astonished silence greeted her as she passed. The haulmen who had been busy carrying materials to the various attraction locations came to a halt to gawk. Pahula watched with wonder in her eyes.
    “So bootiful …” she said. “How do you do this, Maria? Is it magic?”
    The Cyclops did not know what to say. She supposed it was a kind of magic: that someone as handsome and larger than life as D’Arbignal had somehow noticed and taken an interest in her. If that was not a miracle, then she didn’t know what would qualify.
    Pahula fell into step next to her, heading for the Freak Show. As they approached it, the midget twins joined in the gawking.
    The last time the Cyclops had felt this many interested eyes on her, she had been sixteen and beautiful. She had gotten used to being invisible: worthy of a disgusted glance, perhaps, but not a good, long look. The similarity of the situation to those horrible days when she had ruined her life made her feel queasy, but she kept walking.
    They made their own decisions. She kept repeating the sentence in her head. She had done wrong, but it had been a mistake, and children make mistakes all the time. Everyone else had made their own decisions. She didn’t make them do it.
    She probed inward, trying to figure out how guilty she should feel. How much of what happened was her fault? She obviously wasn’t innocent, but how much of the blame for Hernando’s death should she carry?
    Her stomach roiled. In a way, it had been easier to blame everything on herself. It had simplified things. Now, reality seemed more fluid, more complex, more complicated.
    A feminine gasp snapped her from her contemplation. Conchinara looked at her, eyes wide with astonishment. She started to point and laugh, but quickly noticed how everyone else was looking at the Cyclops and her face went blank for a moment.
    Conchinara tossed her long black hair and looked at the Cyclops with her chin raised imperiously. She pursed her lips into a taunting pout, and waved a mockingly sad bye-bye to her.
    The Cyclops suddenly felt ill. In the whirlwind of emotions and action, she had forgotten that Marco was kicking her out of the circus. She felt dizzy. There was no future for her. How would she live?
    Conchinara’s pout turned into a vindictive smile, and the Cyclops knew that it had been she who had convinced Marco to abandon her. Why? How could someone be so cruel?
    Conchinara smiled sweetly as the Cyclops entered the Freak Show tent.

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