The Midnight Circus, стр. 34
“Don’ttake him,” she cried, “I’ve done everything you asked. I promise to beeven more careful of him.” Her tears slippedsilently down her cheeks, small globules, smelling slightly salty, likesoup.
Hisfather hit her with his fist for crying, and red blood gushed from hernose. He hated crying, something Dog Boy was soon to find out.
ButDog Boy had never smelled blood like that before, only his mother’smonthly flow which had a nasty pong to it. His head jerked up at thesharpness, a scent he would later know as iron. He practically wethimself with delight. His father watched him and smiled. It was a slowsmile and not at all comforting, but it was all Dog Boy would everget from him.
“Come,Boy,” his father said, adjusting the red cap he always wore, a cap thatwas the first thing Dog Boy recognized about his father, even beforehis smell, that odd compound of old blood and something meaty,something nasty, that both repelled and excited him. Without more of aninvitation, his father reached into his pocket and pulled out a leatherleash, winding it expertly about the Dog Boy’s chest and shoulders,tugging him toward the door. And not knowing why, only that it wouldsurely be something new and interesting, Dog Boy toddled after him,never looking back at his mother who still simpered behind them.
Offthey went into the city, that big, noisy, sprawling place so full ofsound and movement and smells. Dog Boy always shuddered when the dooropened.
Oh,he’d been out with his mother before, but always held in her arms,smothered by the milk-mother smell. This time he was walking out on hisown. Well, walking might be a slight exaggeration. It was more likefalling forward, only to be caught up again and again by the leatherleash.
Theirfirst stop was at a spindly gingko right outside the door of the house,the tree just leafing out. Dog Boy stood by it and inhaled the green,soft and sharp at the same time. He reached over and touched the bark.That was the soft smell, and it was not—he realized in surprise—thebark itself but the mallow he could sense inside, though of course thenhe hadn’t the words mallow or bark. The leaves werewhat smelled sharp and new and somewhat peppery. The other smell wasclearly much older. Old and new had different scents. It was arevelation.
Next,he and his father walked along a stone walk that was filled with otherinteresting scents. People smells, lingering leather smells, thesweat of feet, plus the sweet cloy of dropped paper wrappers, and somesmallish tangs of tobacco in a white cover. Then Dog Boy found threeoverflowing garbage cans, overflowing with smells.
Suddenly,there were far too many odors, most of them much too strong for hischildish senses, and Dog Boy ended up swooning onto the pavement, hislegs and arms making quick running motions, like a dog does when itdreams.
Withgreat disgust, Red Cap slung him over his shoulder like some deadthing, and took him right back home.
Onceupstairs, he flung Dog Boy onto the sofa, saying in his growl of avoice, “I have kept you in comfort all this timeand you raise up this . . . this wimpish thing. I need a sniffer-out,an offspring who can track and trail. Not this puling. Fainting—”
“He’sonly a baby,” his mother said quickly, picking Dog Boy up andunwrapping the leather leash from his body which—strangely—burned herhands. Dog Boy smelled the burning right before she cradled him againsther milk-full breasts, before that familiar scent comforted him andmade him forget everything else. “And I have kept him in this room, asyou demanded . . .” his mother murmured above him, neglecting tomention the biweekly runs to the bodega when she was so lonely for anadult to speak to, she couldn’t stay in and didn’t dare leave the childin the room alone.
Forher outburst, she was hit again, this time on the cheek, which rockedher back and made Dog Boy whimper for her, though she made no soundat all. But her cheek came up quickly into a purplish bruise that hislittle, plump fingers explored gently, though by then Red Cap wasalready gone, the door slamming behind him. He didn’t return for amonth, on the next moon.
Duringthat month, Dog Boy’s mother wept, fussed, petted, and spoiled himoutrageously, thought about running, hiding out somewhere.
“Justthe two of us,” she’d whisper before the tears pooled again in hereyes. “Anywhere.” But she couldn’t think of a single place that wouldbe safe. Red Cap could come and goto anywhere on earth, seemingly at will. He’d told her so when they’dfirst met, and she believed him. His fists had made her into a believer.
RedCap was the only name she had for him. He said it was the only name hehad. She’d tried calling him Red once, and he’d hit her so hard, shelost consciousness and never tried again. Even her father had never hither so hard. But after that, she had trouble calling him anything andspent stuttering moments whenever she had to address him directly.She thought if she could only call him by his right name, he’d forgiveher, but the words never seemed to come out right.
Hewore that disgusting cap everywhere, even in bed. The only time she’dever seen him take it off was when they were first seeing one another.It was a pearly evening, and they’d come upon a dying squirrel run overin the park, its insides squashed onto the pavement, made even morehorrible by the moon overhead and the shadows it cast. She’d started toturn away from the sight. But when Red Cap took off his hat and dippedit into the squirrel’s blood, she’d been mesmerized and couldn’t stopwatching. For a moment, the hat had seemed to glisten and glow, red asa sunset, though she knew that couldn’t really have happened. Then thesquirrel’s eyes glazed over; so in a way, had the hat.
Afterthe moment in the park, she shrank away from him, which