The Lost Equation - Chapter 6 snippet

Chapter 6: The Lost Summer

Coco the Clown tumbled into the ring, his red and white costume

brilliant under the lights, his painted face split by an enormous grin.

The crowd roared with laughter as he chased his tiny car around the ring, tripping over his oversized shoes.

"Elisa, look!" Mum said, turning to where her daughter had been

standing moments before. The empty space beside her seemed to

expand, swallowing all sound except her next words: "Arthur... Arthur, where's Elisa?"

The dream fractured into fragments: My father pushing through the

crowd, calling Elisa's name. Police whistles pierced the carnival

music. The circus continued its performance as my family's private

world collapsed, Coco still capering in the ring while we searched with increasing desperation.

Hours stretched into days. The holiday crowds that had seemed so

festive now felt menacing, each face a potential witness, each shadow a possible hiding place. But Elisa had vanished as completely as if she'd never existed.

The dream always ended the same way. As the memories of that

terrible day began to fade, Coco the Clown would appear one final

time. Not the jovial performer from the ring, but something darker. His white-painted face loomed in the darkness, hand extended invitingly, beckoning me to follow him into the shadows where my sister had gone.

I jerked awake, feeling a pressure on my hand, my heart pounding,

the taste of candy floss and terror still bitter on my tongue. I looked to see Ransome standing at my bedside, his mouth lightly gripping my hand in his most tender display of empathy.

“Was I dreaming again, buddy?”

He released my hand and sat beside the bed, giving a bark, then

beginning one of his muleing sessions as if to explain what he had seen.

I rose and sat on the side of the bed, rubbing my face with both

hands as if there were a film of despair that had to be removed before I could continue. In fact, the film was from the cold sweat I had broken into during the panic of the dream. I looked at the clock. It was 0300. I looked out the window of the bedroom and saw the pitch darkness of the world beyond. I scratched my scalp and then leaned down to do the same atop the head of my furry pal.

“Not getting back to sleep after that. Are you ready for a new day?”