Another street had a group of children in the midst of a makeshift jousting tournament. Two children rode donkeys at each other and took turns trying to knock their opponent off with pillows. They also saw a little boy who had uncovered a can of green paint and was stalking around like a giggling idiot drenching anyone who came within five feet of him.
After many failed efforts, Sabrina and her family managed to find a clear path to a filthy tent. Once inside, Sabrina spotted the driver of the coach standing next to a trembling donkey.
“He’s selling the animals,” the Cheshire Cat said when they joined him and the others in the tent.
“Disgusting practice,” the White Rabbit complained.
“Pinocchio has already turned into a donkey?” Sabrina asked.
“He couldn’t have. I remember the story said he was here for weeks before the change started,” Daphne said.
The Cheshire Cat motioned to a dark section of the tent. “He’s over there. I can see well in the dark. He’s hiding in the shadows.”
“Why?” Lancelot asked.
“Pinocchio winds up in a circus, so he has to be sold. Maybe he’s trying to hurry everything along,” Daphne said. “He’s watching for the Ringmaster and he’ll stow himself away when he leaves.”
“How much will you give me for this fine, strong donkey?” the fat man said. His voice was high and piercing.
“I’ll take him for twenty-five nickels,” a man said. “I can use his skin for a drum I have at home.”
The donkey brayed and whimpered until the fat man snapped his whip at him.
“Do I hear more than twenty-five nickels?”
“Does he dance?” another man shouted from the crowd.
“Pardon?”
A man dressed in a long black coat, white pants, and black boots stood up. “Does he dance? I have a circus in need of an act,” the man replied. “If he can dance, I’ll pay fifty nickels.”
“You’re a ringmaster, I see. You could teach him to dance in your circus,” the fat man said.
“NO! He must dance. I won’t pay for a donkey that doesn’t dance.”
Suddenly Pinocchio stepped into the light. “He dances,” he said. “Like a prima ballerina. I’ve seen him myself.”
The fat man and the Ringmaster were confused. “You must follow the actual events.”
“This is my story,” Pinocchio said. “Take the donkey to your circus. I will accompany you.”
“Does the Editor know about this?” another man in the crowd asked.
Pinocchio removed the magic wand from his pants pocket. He flicked it with his wrist and a blue flame ignited the air. “The Editor knows what I’ve told him,” he said. The men were taken aback by the magic. “Now, if you have sufficiently eaten up the oxygen in this tent with your stupid questions, can we get on with it?”
The fat man nodded. “Take him with you, Ringmaster.”
The crowd stood all at once and in the excitement Sabrina lost sight of the little troublemaker. One moment he was standing in the center of everything and the next he was gone.
“Find him!” Sabrina shouted to the characters, and they all raced out of the tent. Without the magic yarn ball they had to ask everyone they came across for help. They went from building to building asking children if they had seen Pinocchio, but all the children were caught up in their games or were intentionally rude. Most of them stuck their tongues out at Sabrina or tried to pelt her with crab apples.
“Little kids are jerks,” Sabrina said.
“Um, hello?” Daphne said with mock offense.
“Except you,” Sabrina said. “He’s gone. What do we do?”
“In the story, he is sold to the circus. The Blue Fairy shows up at one of the shows,” Daphne said. “It’s his chance to get her to fix the spell that turned him into a real boy.”
“How are we going to find a traveling circus?” Guinevere complained.
“I don’t know exactly, but the first step is getting out of this town,” Daphne said. “If we stick around, we’re all going to be eating hay and swatting at flies with our tails.”
“She’s right,” Sabrina said. “He’s not here anymore anyway. It’s better to leave while we can.”
The group walked through the town gate and spotted a crude sign outside that read TOYS ARE GRATE! NO MORE SKOOLS! DOWN WITH RITT MATTICK!
“Hey, where you going?” a girl missing a front tooth said as the group departed the town. “It’s dangerous to go into the parts of the story that aren’t written. The margins are full of ghosties.”
“We’re running away to join the circus,” Sabrina said. She walked on, leaving behind the troubling little town and its doomed population. Soon it was just a speck of dust on the horizon.
They walked along the road for what seemed the better part of a day. By the time they decided to make a camp for the night, Sabrina was sure she would collapse from exhaustion, pain, and hunger. She realized she hadn’t eaten all day.