Carnival Souls

The Past is the Past (part two)

"It'll feel like home in no time," said Genzel gruffly. He set Vivian down on the floor and took both girls' hands as he led them across the threshold.

A haze moved over the scene like static or a sandstorm, and then cleared. It was still the same apartment, but the floor had been swept and the walls unevenly repainted. A chipped glass vase with dried wildflowers sat in the center of a bowed kitchen table.

The younger girl, Vivian, Owen realized, was sitting at the table, swinging her feet and making a small wooden horse gallop across the surface. She was humming quietly to herself, her thin, blonde hair in two tiny braids. The older girl, Bebinn, was at the stove, stirring a pot of boiling water in which swirled a bunch of wilted cabbage leaves and a few slices of potato. The only light came from a few sputtering candles on the countertop.

"Bebinn," said Vivian in a high, childish voice. "When's Papa coming home?"

"Soon," said Bebinn. She kept stirring the pot. Owen glanced out the window and saw nothing but black. There was no clock, but he had a feeling that it was late. Bebinn ladled out two bowls of soup that was mostly broth, and set them on the table. The two girls were quiet as they spooned it to their lips, steam curling up from the liquid. Owen watched as the two sisters finished their meager meal and Bebinn cleared away the plates and got Vivian ready for bed. She tucked her under a threadbare blanket on a cot in the corner of the room, singing softly as Vivian's eyelids fluttered. Once it appeared that Vivian was asleep, Bebinn set about cleaning the tiny kitchen, putting the stove back on to reheat the remaining soup. She had just set another bowl on the table as the door to the apartment burst open and a ragged Genzel stumbled over the threshold.

He was unshaven and only one arm was through his ripped and stained coat. He kicked off his boots, leaving them in the middle of the floor, and swayed over to the table. Slumping down in his seat, he grabbed the spoon Bebinn had set by the bowl and thrust it into the soup. Owen walked around the table to peer into Genzel's face and saw that his skin was ashen and his bloodshot eyes drooped. Bebinn came to his side and placed a gentle hand around the one Genzel had clenched around the spoon. She steadied his shaking fingers and blew lightly on the spoon before guiding it to his mouth.

The scene pixelated once more and then cleared to reveal Genzel kneeling in the middle of the apartment, the sparse furniture pushed back against the scuffed walls. Genzel bent to paint the miniature carousel horse in front of him. It was about three feet high, almost finished by the looks of it, except for the final touches of paint he was adding to the face. He dabbed a bit of shiny black on one of the eyes and the extra dimension almost made it seem like the horse's eyes were watching Owen.

He walked a few steps around the horse and its gaze followed him. Genzel looked over his shoulder and for a moment Owen thought Genzel could feel him there in the room with him, but no, the older man was looking through him to something on the other side of the room.

"Vivian, stop that!" he barked at the little girl who was playing with a roughly carved wooden horse that was an even smaller version of the one in front of her father. The toy clattered to the ground and Genzel upset a small bottle of paint. He made a noise of anger and began shouting something in German, making a move to get to his feet. But before he could, Bebinn appeared, swept up the toy horse and her little sister in the folds of her dress and hustled them down the hall saying over her shoulder, "Sorry, Papa."

Flames suddenly leapt up at the edges of the room, filling the tiny space with intense heat and acrid smoke. A high-pitched wailing joined the roar of the fire until Owen's ears were filled with rushing noise. He coughed and stumbled, trying to follow the sound of crying. He walked into the small carousel horse and caught it on reflex, trying to steady it. The glassy black eyes reflected the bright tongues of orange flames behind him and Owen choked. Beneath his fingers the wooden horse collapsed in a pile of glowing ash. Smoke wrapped around him and within seconds he was overwhelmed and went to his knees in the hot embers.