Page 32 of Sinistram
The explanation was good, as far as it went. But Brent’s intuition told him to keep digging.
“Did circuses have witches?” Brent remembered the mine magic and took a guess.
“Not that they admitted, but many did,” Finley replied. “Circus people are particularly superstitious, and a little magic took some control back, put it in their own hands. Lots of folks wore amulets or had little shrines in their tents to protect themselves. Tattoos weren’t as acceptable back in the day as they are now, but ‘lifers,’ performers who were with the circus fortheir whole careers, usually had a protective mark somewhere no one could see.”
He paused. “I always figured the magic helped, but it couldn’t keep away everything bad. The incident that destroyed the Walter Brothers’s show wasn’t unusual as a wreck, only that it involved lions and tigers.”
“Some of the performers died at the scene, didn’t they?” Brent asked, confirming what he had found online.
“So did a few of the animals. People told stories that the lions had gotten loose and ate someone, but that’s a bunch of hooey,” Finley said. “I’ve never found any official or eyewitness accounts that back that up.”
“Was the circus unlucky?”
“I guess that’s in the eye of the beholder, but there were rumors at the time,” Finley replied. “One of the survivors told the police the train had been hexed. There had been some accidents at the last show—a trapeze artist fell, and one of the fire show performers got burned. They closed up a day or two early because turnout wasn’t good. I guess that could feel unlucky. And before you ask, my calliope isn’t from Walter Brothers.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“Why are you interested in something that happened a hundred years ago?” Finley asked.
“Because we’re getting reports of strange things happening near the accident site, and people have gotten hurt,” Brent replied. “Whether it’s ghosts, dark magic, or bad people, we need to make it stop.”
“That’s what you and your friend do? Hunt ghosts like on TV?” Finley asked.
“Yes, but it’s not nearly as glamorous,” Brent replied. “We just try to keep people from getting hurt and send the spirits on to rest.”
“Huh. Just when you think you’ve heard everything,” Finley said. “I don’t know anything else about the Walter Brothers Circus, but if you haven’t found it already, there’s a pretty comprehensive website that has a collection of old timers’ stories and photos. I haven’t been out there in a while, but as I remember it, they had a nice collection about the Walter show.” He gave Brent the web address.
“Thank you for your help,” Brent said. “This has been great information.”
Finley didn’t rush to end the call, and Brent paid attention to his instincts that said the man had more to say.
“There’s another legend connected to the Walter Brothers’s wreck,” Finley offered after a pause. “Anyone ever tell you about Eagle Eye Ike?”
Brent shook his head. “That’s a new one. What’s the story?”
“I don’t know much, but back in the 1850s, there was a guy named Ike who was the grandson of runaway slaves. He was a farmer, and in his spare time, he hunted ghosts. Folks called him Eagle Eye Ike because he was a dead shot.”
“He hunted ghosts?” Brent echoed, intrigued.
“Yep. Some folks thought he was crazy. Others whispered about Voodoo or some such. But when something they couldn’t explain came around in the middle of the night, they’d send word and Ike would come and banish the ghost.”
Brent knew that ghost hunters had been around throughout history, but at the same time, thanks to television, the idea felt oddly modern.
“Was he a witch?”
“No idea. By all accounts, he was a God-fearing church-goer. But according to the stories, when people got a fright and the priests and ministers didn’t know what to do, Ike took up his shotgun and did what needed done.”
“The circus wreck didn’t happen until the 1890s.” Brent frowned as he did the mental math. “Ike would have been really old to show up afterward and banish ghosts.”
Finley chuckled. “By then, he was a ghost himself, still putting an end to harmful spirits and chasing off monsters. Lots of folks swore that it was the ghost of Eagle Eye Ike who chased away their haunts. Guess he thought the afterlife was too boring.”
“That’s quite a story.” Brent knew he would be digging for resources as soon as the call ended.
“Didn’t say I believe it, but you’re likely to hear it from someone, if you don’t run into Ike himself,” Finley replied.
“One last question,” Brent said. “Do you keep in touch with any of the smaller modern circuses? And if you do…any chance you know someone who might know a circus witch?”
Finley was quiet for a few moments, and Brent figured the man was deciding how far to trust him.
