A Peculiar Time in 1944 - A Millard Fanfic (Miss Peregrine's Home) #wattys2020

Chapter 70

"This was astonishing enough. More astonishing, perhaps, was the fact that time travel hadn't broken my brain." {Jacob Portman, pg 304 book 2}

When they emerged into the main room with the others Horace was waving an orange wig around.

"How's this going to help anyone blend in with the normals?"

"Because it seems we're going to a carnival." Hugh said drawing attention to a poster on the wall that advertised one.

"Just a moment!" Horace shouted, "I've heard of this place! It's an old tourist loop!"

"What's a tourist loop?" Jake asked.

"Used to be you could find them all across peculiardom." Millard explained, his voice coming from beside Aurora and she felt him place an arm around her waist. "Placed strategically at times and locations of historical import. They made up a sort of Grand Tour that was once considered an essential part of any well-bred peculiar's education. This was many years ago, of course, when it was still relatively safe to travel abroad. I didn't realize there were any left." Then he got quiet, lost in memories of a better time. Aurora placed her hand over his on her waist and stroked his knuckles with her thumb in comfort.

When they'd all finished changing they followed Emma through another door and into an alleyway stacked with trash and empty crates. In the distance was the sound of pipe organs which they followed until they reached a carnival. Once among crowds of normals their peculiar instincts kicked in, stay together, watch Jacob for signals, don't talk to anyone and look no one in the eye. Millard made sure to always be touching Aurora in some way, keeping his hand on her waist, her shoulder or wrapping his pinky around hers, all subtle ways of letting her know he was there. Miss Peregrine was in a denim bag Horace had found and though she hadn't seemed thrilled by the arrangement she eventually agreed as no one was to keen on carrying her after the pigeon incident. They walked among the normals taking in the small movements they made, did they slouch or stand tall? Were their gazes confident or shifty? Were their muscles tight or relaxed? It was more than the clothing they wore that determined whether or not they blended in, it was also reliant on their acting skills.

Bronwyn, being so young, had gotten distracted at one point and Olive had to pull her away from a clown. She quietly whispered to the girl, 'Never talk to normals.' For a long while after they wandered aimlessly among the colorful tents and odd smells. They kept an eye out for Miss Wren or anywhere peculiars might hide. The trouble was everything seemed peculiar, which made it the perfect camouflage, not only for them but for their enemies as well. How many of the people around them could be wights, or spies for the wights?

"It's not good being out in the open like this." She heard Jake whisper to Emma, "We can't just circle around forever. People are noticing us. Clowns."

"Clowns?" Emma asked and as Aurora searched the crowd she saw what Jacob meant. The clown Bronwyn had been talking to had popped up in the crowd watching them. One moment he was there then she blinked and he was gone. "Anyway, I agree with you." Emma continued, "but it's difficult to know where to start in all this madness."

"We should start at what is always the most peculiar part of any carnival – the sideshow." Enoch said gripping Olive's gloved hand which she'd tried to keep hidden beneath long bell sleeves. "Sideshows and peculiars go together like milk and cookies."

"But the wights know that as well as we do." Emma reminded him, "I'm sure Miss Wren hasn't kept her freedom this long by hiding in such obvious places."

"Have you got a better idea?"

No one did, so the sideshow it was. The only problem was the fee and the only money they had left was a lint-covered coin in Horace's pocket.