Date: Saturday, September 2nd, 1922.
Time: 11:59
Location: Ms. Maisy’s House
Outside is a gloomy day, as is the norm in Sunspot. Angela would like to meet the person who named this town. Figure out if they’re a jokester or uneducated.
It’s quite a bit of a trek from the circus to Ms. Maisy’s. Angela always wondered why Ms. Maisy didn’t live in the circus with everyone else. It would have made life so much easier for her and she liked them all well enough. But for some reason, she kept away in her own home.
Angela reaches Ms. Maisy’s door and knocks.
“Ms. Maisy!” she calls. “Are you alright? It’s practically noon, I believe. Everyone at the circus is worried about you.”
She stands there, only to be greeted by silence.
Frowning, Angela takes hold of the knob and tries it.
Miraculously, it turns and swings open. Angela takes a careful step in.
“Ms. Maisy?” Angela calls again. “The door was unlocked, just so you know! It’s not very safe!”
Still no answer, so Angela comes in and shuts the door.
“I’m not a burglar, so please don’t attack me! Assuming you’re well enough to do so.”
Angela has been to Ms. Maisy’s many times to help her with random chores on her days off. Usually, this is a second home to her, a place to relax and get away from the circus.
Now, she feels out of place. As if her being here is wrong.
Angela shakes the thought out of her head. Of course it’s wrong. She walked in uninvited. She’s basically trespassing.
Despite realizing that she is now officially a criminal, Angela walks deeper into the house, forcing her steps to be more confident than she feels. The house is as neat as it usually is, so that’s a good sign, right?
She makes her way to Ms. Maisy’s bedroom. That’s where sick people usually are, right? Lying in bed helplessly?
Angela lifts her fist and knocks on the bedroom door.
“Ms. Maisy? I’m sorry to bother you, but everyone’s worried. Are you alright?” Again, Angela hears nothing. Again, she tries the door. Again, it turns and opens.
And she gives a sigh of relief.
Ms. Maisy is in bed, slumped over a book. A lantern next to her is all burned out. Poor thing probably stayed up all night to read and fell asleep.
Angela didn’t know Ms. Maisy liked to read.
“Ms. Maisy, I apologize for disturbing your slumber,” Angela says as she walks over to her. “But everyone one was so worried about you, we—“
As Angela reaches a hand out to gently shake Ms. Maisy awake, Ms. Maisy’s head lolls back, her eyes wide open. Still. Lifeless.
Angela stares at Ms. Maisy for a while before carefully removing her hand. She brings it up to her face, choking back tears.
“Oh, Ms. Maisy!” she sobs, taking a staggering step back.
She really is dead. Gone. Worst fear come into light.
What should she do? Should she tell someone? No, the other adults probably already know. That must be why they’re so hush-hush.
But then…why would Ms. Maisy be left here? Wouldn’t someone have notified the police? Taken her to be buried?
Oh…more sobs choke out as Angela imagines a funeral for Ms. Maisy. The only mother she’s ever known. The second most important person on Earth, if not for Wendy. And she’s gone. Away. Just like that.
For her to seem perfectly fine previously and be dead now…it’s all so sudden.
Angela’s eyes venture back to the bed and land on the book Ms. Maisy has in her lap.
And, despite her broken heart, she takes a step forward.
Strange symbols and non-English words are scribbled into the pages. In the corner of one, there’s a sketch of some slimy creature with wings.
Angela doesn’t understand it, of course, but she bet Wendy can make sense of it.
Maybe they can figure out how or why Ms. Maisy died.
She takes the book and stuffs it in her messenger bag. As she clips the bag closed, she glances up to Ms. Maisy and presses a small kiss on her forehead. Another tear escapes her before she wipes it away and leaves.