Fantasy Send in the Clowns

[CrazyChickenLady]

Hunger. Thirst. Rest. That was all his body was aching for besides relief from the ache of his broken heart and the sting from a recently inflicted wound. The man's fingers gently grazed the stitching on his shoulder. He could recall it vividly; the screams--the look of horror in her eyes before plunging the corkscrew into his flesh. He blinked away the tears that welled up. He had done enough crying. Right now he couldn't spare any liquid. He was already dehydrated and he was trying to conserve what little water he had left.

His ears focused on the sloshing in the nearly empty canister slung around his shoulder. Tightly clenched in his opposing hand, a bed sheet contained his few possessions. The night of the screams--the unveiling of his monstrous secret, his belongings had been thrown from his flat by his landlord. Anything that hadn't been destroyed, he swiped up when backs were turned.

He was a lanky 6'3 with wavy brown locks with slight curls. White shirt and brown pants were worn and soiled by grime and sweat. Black shoes that long lost their shine were threatening to fall apart at any moment. His normally shaven face was consumed by a thickening beard. But there was one feature that was a stark contrast to the haggard mess that he was. His eyes, carrying heavy bags beneath them, a deep, vibrant blue, were fixated on the ground as he trudged onward.

He wanted to stop. His feet screamed for relief. An immense cramping originating from his empty belly evoked a groan that came out hoarse. His throat was a desert. Coming to a stop, he nearly collapsed. Bending over and bracing himself on one knee, he lifted his head to peer at the horizon. His weary eyes lit up at the sight of civilization ahead. Inspired to keep going, he hobbled forth.

 

[Pompet]

A young boy with disheveled brown hair that seemed to have some sort of green pigment to its ends called out to passers-by, offering hand written cards. He was dressed in comically oversized clothes, with makeup upturning his expression and a large gap in his teeth where a tooth was missing, “Mah-tin-ey! Come one an’ awl an’ see the mose amazin’ show this side of the world! Lions! Mermaids! Knife tossin’ monkeys!” His clear voice rang out as he stood proudly from his steeple by the lamp light that served as the marker for Patsy’s Dried Goods store.

He’d soon pull the juggling balls from the cubby under his standing box and give pedestrians a small show. Miss Patsy paid the boy an extra pence to draw folks to this particular area as it often guided them into the store. He repeated, “Come an see the Mah-tin-ey show today! Come one an’ awl! Monkeys, magic fire eaters, the most amazin’ things you’ve ever seen! Please good gentle folk, pause for a moment for this free demonstration of the arts brought to us and taught to me by the talents of the Orient! Seen only wit our most honorable circus!” The young boy then produced sparkling colorful beaded balls in his hands and presented them to the panorama of gathering viewers who stopped to see what he would do.

 

[CrazyChickenLady]

The voice lured the man, words becoming more clear the closer he shuffled. Show? Lions? Mermaids? Monkeys? Was...was the boy advertising a circus? Would they need an extra set of hands? Joining the crowd, it took nearly all of his remaining strength to keep himself standing as he observed. His muddled brain couldn't recall the last time he had come across a circus. The boy's demonstration was a refresher of what to expect. He wanted to ask questions regarding the possibility of a job, but he didn't dare interrupt the child's attraction. He would wait until the small audience cleared.

 

[Pompet]

With an impressive display of coordination despite his obscuringly large sleeves, the young boy not only gave an advanced display of juggling tricks and patterns, but he also managed to do some clever dancing and minor acrobatics. He ended his performance with a magic trick in which the balls were thrown up and popped, revealing crumpled hand written cards that rained out over the small crowd, the heavier paper was mixed with some small cuts of thinner tissue paper that slowly fluttered around as it descended. There was some friendly approving comments that dissipated quickly as the crowd carried on with their day. No one ever asked fo the business cards, everyone knew where the big top was. The papers were just a good way to get people to think about it If one happened to get stuck in a hat brim or land in a bag.

”Thank you for sparin’ a moment and remember, my humble performance is no where near the splendor of the real thing! So don’t forget to come witness the real thing for yourselves! Today! At the Mah-tin-ey showin’! Just a small walk away! We got elephants! Lions! Equestrian daredevils! Come one an’ awl to the circus!“ By this time, the boy was now sitting on his box, out of breath with a line of sweat running from his temple. The mid day sun and all these heavy clothes brought him down for a rest. He sat with one knee up and the other leg kicking back and forth with the pant leg flopping well past his foot as he worked on catching his breath to shout another string of curiosities form the circus.

 

[CrazyChickenLady]

The impressive display managed to evoke a small smile from the man's lips. The yearn for a position with whatever secrets and wonder that laid in wait amplified. He timidly waited for the last of the crowd to disperse before approaching the boy. He stalled, his tired brain struggling to find the words for a proper introduction.

"Um...h-hello," he croaked, his parched throat reducing his words to a horrible hoarse noise. His attempt to clear his throat only managed to hurt it. His free hand smoothed through his greasy mess of hair in a nervous fit. "I'm...I'm Arlo."

He paused for a brief second, his fingers twitching at his side.

"Do...do you know...if this circus...has a position open?" he queried, his voice dripping with desperation. "I'm i-in...need of-of a job."

 

[Pompet]

The boy’s brown eyes shifted in Arlo’s direction. He scanned over his appearance before licking his lips and rubbing his face on his sleeve which smudged the already deprecated makeup that had once been on his forehead and pressed some of his fluffy hair into his sweat, “I ain’t the person to ask.. and it’s none of my business, but you don’t look too good. I mean, I was a cabbage once, but then they took my roots so now I am a tumble weed, but you—” he said as he pushed the sticky hair off his face before sighing uncomfortably, “You’d wanna talk to Lady Fantast-eek” his inflection on ‘fantastique’ was too strong and clearly unnatural to him, “she’s who gave me this job, so if anyone can see about gettin’ you in its gonna be her. ‘Ere” the boy produced one of his unending hand written cards from seemingly out of nowhere, “you don’t look like you’re from ‘round ’ere, so that’ll help ya get there. Or just ask around, the tent’s is just down this street past the button factory on Watkins.” The kid said as he stood back up on his box, noting that he still wasn’t taller than Arlo.

 

[CrazyChickenLady]

A cabbage? Tumbleweed? What was he getting at? Was that some kind of phrase that never made it anywhere he had been? Accepting the card, Arlo's vivid blue oculars scanned the printed text. His small smile broadened as a hopeful spark spawned in his eyes. Thanking the boy for his help, he meandered off. He looked to and from the card and any street signs he could make out. Approaching someone to ask for help felt a bit too unnerving. The boy was far more approachable simply for being a child.

In the end, he need verbal instructions. Reading and re-reading the card, he managed to find the big top on his own. Weaving through patrons, he scanned the area for anyone who might be an employee. Surely someone employed by a circus couldn't be too difficult to spot out of a crowd, right?

 

[Pompet]

Rimming the crowds that waited to filter through the ticket que, was large bared cages containing exotic animals, along with all kinds of uniquely dressed clowns and men on camels and horses. One such camel master, lead a majestic two humped creature donned in long tassels and beaded harnessing from the live stock tent adjacent to the big top. Upon the camel was a woman with jet black hair who waved to the folks waiting in the crowd outside the big top. Her outfit was elaborate and covered in silvery details that made her look like an exotic beauty from a far off country. Half of her face was covered with a scarf and as they passed the crowd and headed for the tent, two miniature donkeys followed behind in similar costume to the camel.

It would occur again with other interesting looking people being lead to the tent on or in various types of transportation. One such transportation was a barred cage containing the man known as “the strongest man” who shared the cage with a tiger, that cage was pulled by a elephant that was mounted by a turban wearing man and a monkey. The only consistent people that seemed open for conversation were taking tips for tricks next to a small booth that featured beverages and a fortune teller. The men that were doing tricks were mostly present to keep people in line as the fortune teller tried to milk as many people by her booth as possible.

“Fortunes in love, wealth, and health my darlings. Come, come to Mama Luna and she will tell you all your heart wishes to know.” The woman in the shaded space beckoned.
Meanwhile two slender men with striped body suits and strange hair cuts were performing a skit about one being ill or in pain and needing alms in donation to feel better, to which a pence would grant their audience a theatrical stunt that would land the other in a predicament that now needed a donation to correct. The two could contort in odd and humorous ways that seemed to keep the crowd completely engrossed. Both attractions seemed to be doing quite well for themselves.

 

[CrazyChickenLady]

The people, the animals, the elaborate costumes. It nearly made him dizzy. On several occasions he was tempted to stop to watch these interesting people and animals. He could wait. He had time. If he ended up working here, he would have all the time he needed to get a good look at everything. The voice of a woman stood out from the amassed conversations happening all around him. "Mama Luna" wasn't "Lady Fantastique", but she sounded like someone who had answers.

Voice stringing him along, he came upon the fortune teller. He stole a moment to take in the woman's appearance before nervously accosting her. Biting his lip, he lowered his gaze to her table, intentionally avoiding eye contact.

"E-excuse me...I'm looking for a Lady Fantastique...I'm...w-wanting to talk to her...a-about a job."