Circus Monkeys -- Chap 1

CIRCUS MONKEYS
Chapter 1

"Direct your attention to the highest point of the big top, ladies and gentlemen!"

I was seven when I first went to the circus.

It isn't hard to remember all the lights dancing around, somehow mingling with the smell of cotton candy and corn dogs. So much color, so much activity...pictures just don't explain it. It's funny how when you're young, the littlest things can imprint themselves into your brain. I distinctly remember Roger the clown and how his shoes were almost more orange than red. The circus was another world that I had dreamed of and suddenly, it was all alive.

"Here you will experience our most dangerous and daring act of the night..."

Everyone's first trip to the circus is memorable, but my experience was just a little different. Not only was it my birthday, but I was also there to watch my parents.

"Dan and Deb will be performing their world famous twin vertical rope routine,"

I remember watching Dan and Deb perform on the ropes, dangling high above the sawdust floor. Their costumes seemed to dance on their own - fiery red with fringe hanging everywhere. My mom looked so beautiful, her long brown hair braided to the middle of her back...looking just like the rope on which she hung. Their sequins flashed all around the big top like the disco ball, causing me to squint as every once in a while a flash would blind me, shooting stars into the air.

"The couple will spend most of their time in the air, leaping from rope to rope and trusting only each other to keep them safe. There is no safety net underneath them ladies and gentlemen..."

I remember hearing the crowd murmer and whisper around me, and for some reason hearing their reaction sent my heart racing. I had been looking forward to this day for so long, it was such an amazing scene. Every kid wants their parents to be bragworthy, and mine certainly were.

"And now, if the crowd is ready, Dan and Deb!"

I can remember their exact routine. I could hear the whole crowd gasping around me and I simply couldn't take my eyes off them. My smile must have been a mile wide, I'm sure the corners of my lips were poking uncomfortably into the sides of the people next to me.

"I want to be in the circus," I whispered aloud while my mom twirled around, holding on only by one foot. Her smile was mine. I wanted to reach out, touch her. I felt like I was right up there with them, floating above them all. Maybe it was because I felt so close to them, I don't know, but even though I was so far away, I could see the change happen as clear as day. The sudden look of horror on my father's face, him desperately leaning forward as my mother's foot slipped off the rope. As she dropped down to the floor, all of the excitement and all my wishful thoughts vanished.

"Please, ladies and gentlemen, please exit the big top..."

------

I blew out the seventeen candles on my pink frosted cake to the sound of my dad and aunt singing "Happy Birthday" in cheesy, cheerful voices. I laughed, rolling my eyes. Seriously, they were beyond dorky!

"What did you wish for, Mallory?" my Aunt Brenda asked with a wink. Her hazel eyes sparkled, whether from their own inner light or the rays of the sunset casting through the great bay window, I wasn't sure. As usual, her graying amber hair was on the fly-away and I could only smile wistfully. With every day that passed my hair was looking more and more like hers - unmanageable. "Looking for a new car to appear in the driveway?"

I forced a smile. "I can't tell you my wish or it won't come true." My smile faltered and I cast my eyes downward so all I could see was the rough wooden tabletop and my long, mascara-free lashes. My wish won't come true anyway. My mom will never come back, I thought, as sadness washed over me. My birthdays were always the hardest for me - and my aunt for that matter. Anniversaries of terrible events always are. I shook it off.

It's been ten years, I scolded myself and smiled up at my dad. He reached out his hand and ruffled my thick, wavy hair. Our matching green eyes locked. I should be over it by now.

I should really be enjoying my company. I didn't always get to see my father. When I was little, my parents sent me to live with my Aunt Brenda. My parents felt the circus wasn't a way of life for a child, at least their child. I don't blame them - in fact I thank them. If I had been brought up in the circus I would...well, let's just say, I wouldn't be the person I am today.

I unwrapped my presents, consisting of clothes and books, the usual. I really was happy though, it was a special birthday when my dad was able to come. I stole a glance up at him, his dark closely cropped hair was anything but fly-away and his lean yet tall figure might have had the chance to show intimidation if there wasn't always a loopy grin on his lips. He had only been able to make it to three of my birthdays in the past. Not because he didn't want to come, but because of his schedule with the circus.

I really wasn't bitter though, I understood he couldn't skip a show, especially not at the beginning of the summer. The only thing I couldn't understand was how he could still perform, with the way mom died and everything. I know it seems selfish, but I guess I kind of resented him for it. I know now that I barely knew her, all because of that stupid circus. It killed her and still my father stuck with it. I guess that's just something I will never understand. Just thinking about that still sends a raging fire through me but I've had years of practice keeping that fury down.

I looked up at my small family gathering and plastered on a smile. I hadn't been to the circus since that day when I was seven. And I'm never going back, I thought, giving my dad a hug.

----

That night I went to the huge birthday bash that Julie, my absolute best friend, had been planning. I couldn't help smiling as I borrowed my aunt's car to make the drive over to Julie's house. She convinced her parents to open their home for my celebration. I pulled into the driveway and went into the party that was already in full swing. I laughed. It was exactly what I had expected it to be - full of corny signs and colorful streamers.

I should have known they wouldn't wait for the guest of honor! I bet they already ate the cake! I strolled in casually, as if the party wasn't for me. Of course that didn't prevent the whole room from singing "Happy Birthday" the instant I stepped through the door. Laughing and having a good time, the hours just flew by.

It was getting late when the phone rang. Julie picked up, worried. I sure hope it isn't the neighbors. I thought. If someone was going to ruin this amazing party that Julie put so much time into, I would be really bummed. So when Julie handed me the phone, I was more than shocked. Who would be calling me? My aunt wasn't expecting me back until late.

"Hello?" I asked, confused. I reached into my pocket and flipped open my cell phone

"'Lory?" a male voice said, shaky on the other line. I saw now that I had missed several calls. My jaw dropped.

"Dad?" I could hear the shake in my voice. Oh, my God! Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong.

"It's..." His voice cracked. "It's your Aunt," he said slowly and carefully. I dropped the phone, letting it clatter onto the table. My eyes connected wtih Julie's for a millisecond before I turned and bolted. I couldn't even hear the music around me as I sprinted down the front lawn fumbling with my keys in the night. I couldn't hear myself breathing, or my radio as it automatically blared on as I started the car. I couldn't hear the squeal of my tires as I sped down the road, whipping around the corners and coming to a screeching halt in front of the house. I didn't hear the front door creak as I ran into the house and into Dad's arms.

It was then, surrounded by his arms that I could hear the muffled sound of his sobs on my shoulder. I knew. We just stood there, and cried.

I wonder who's going to leave my life on my next birthday.

----

I put my hands on my hips and let out a long, tired breath. Sun streamed through my bedroom window, casting the bare shelves and packed bags in a golden, late afternoon light. Two days after my aunt's funeral and I already had my possessions ready to move. I was still stunned - was I really leaving this house? It was my home.

I hefted my duffle bag on my shoudler and grabbed a box before heading down the carpeted stairs. I walked through the comfortable living room with its well-worn - probably too well-worn - couches and held back any thoughts of crying. The worst was yet to come.

A heart attack. A lousy heart attack. I shook my head and walked out of the house. My aunt had been too young for a heart attack; I just couldn't understand why it happened. I took my bags and threw them in the trunk of my dad's car. He emerged from the house carrying the last of my things, his face looked pale and tired. I knew I should feel emphathy, after all he was close to my aunt too, but I felt my gaze harden as I looked at him. It was hard enough to be dealing with my aunt's death - but him taking me away was the last straw.

"Ready?" he asked before pulling out of the driveway, not bothering to wait for my answer. We drove in silence for a while before he tried to strike up a conversation. I really don't know why he tried.

"You'll have fun I promise," he said with a forced smile, "We'll try and work out something so you can still go to school in Janesville next year, although I'm not sure what." He stopped talking, apparently waiting for me to say something. I wouldn't give him the pleasure. I was furious - he had no idea who she was to me, he really didn't. He didn't care about anything. It was obvious he didn't have any feelings. My beautiful, loving aunt was dead. Just as my mom was dead. And there was my dad, sitting there with some phony smile trying to make everything better.

I can't believe he's taking me to the circus, I thought with fury. I haven't been there since my seventh birthday. I was planning on keeping it that way.

My dad shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His chair was pushed all the way back but his long legs still looked cramped in the small car. "I guess I could quit the circus but..."

I looked over to him, suddenly hopeful, but the expression on his face told me he never would. I sighed. I knew in a way I was being harsh...this had to be hard on him as well and he really was trying. But there are those times when you are swimming in your own shoes and you can't even fathom trying to fit into someone else's.

It didn't take long to get to Baraboo. Dad took the back way into the circus, pulling into the mini trailer court especially for the circus folk tucked away behind the museums and big top tent for the circus. Stepping out of the car I stretched my arms high above my head, taking the opportunity to look around.

I could just barely see the river on the other side of the property, shallow from the slight drought we were under, but II could certainly hear the fresh gurgling of the moving water. Permanent and mobile buildings alike littered the setting, most of them attractions for the visitors and not put into use yet for the season.

There were 5 rows of 4 trailers set up in an orderly fashion. Most had been already decorated for the coming season, hanging plants situated in front of the doors. While some were white, most of them had been painted vibrant colors, to fit in with the festival theme and were obviously permanently situated there.

Dad led me to his trailer, one of the few white ones, telling anyone who called out to him that he would talk with them later. I couldn't have been more grateful. He held open the flimsy screen door and I stepped inside.

"To your left," he said as I paused, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the dim light. The curtains on the windows were closed, making the trailer dark and gloomy. "You'll have Mom's old dressing room,"

I stopped mid-turn. "What?" I asked.

He looked flustered. "We had bought a two-bedroom trailer so we could have a place to get ready, I never got a new one," he explained.

"But...I...oh, but..." I stammered, my heart pounding. I couldn't deal with this, it was too much. I gazed back at my Dad, his form a silhouette against the bright light outside. He reached out toward me hesitantly, aiming for my shoulder. I backed away and headed down the narrow hallway.

I'm getting used to the whole giving in thing, I thought bitterly as I tossed my duffle on the tiny twin bed he had shoved into the room. Doesn't look very comfy, I snarled to myself and laid down, looking at the dim ceiling.

Well, Mallory, welcome to the beginning of the end of your life.

----

I stayed in the trailer for the next three days. No matter what Dad said, I wasn't coming out. When I wasn't, vividly, missing my aunt, I thought about how every birthday was just becoming more and more painful. How could I celebrate anything next year - knowing it was the anniversary of the death of the two most important women in my life? I turned over on my stomach and heaved a sigh. It was odd how much energy sigh-heaving could take out of a person. I was exhausted.

My room brought back memories I had tried hard to forget - this whole place did. Not only did I remember, now with guilt, all the excitement I had all those years ago, but I also just remembered my mom. My room was painted a light blue and still had marks on the walls where great big mirrors were hung. I remembered watching her get ready. She layered on eyeliner, mascara, and deep blue eyeshadow.

I felt a small smile tug at the corners of my mouth. I remembered the way her brown eyes looked at my critically. She had pointed at me with her make-up brush and said very seriously that if I ever did my make-up like that, she wouldn't let me out of the house. I didn't understand, I thought she looked beautiful. Now, of course, I knew what she meant.

Three days in the trailer was driving me crazy, but I was afraid to go outside. What memories would I find out there?The funny thing was, all this time I was in the trailer I found it impossible to really distinguish who I was angry with. I had such a crazy, boiling... blah that just seemed to stick to every one of my ribs. It made me wish I had the vocabulary of Mr. Webster so I could find a word better than "blah" to describe my feelings.

Why do I bother? I asked myself in the most lonesome way possible, tracing the violet comforter cover with the tip of my finger. I had my head propped up on the back of my hand and I could smell the still slightly musty covers. In a flash I was up and on my feet. It was time to get out of this room.

I waited until my dad was out doing something, probably hanging 30 feet in the air, and went out to walk around. I felt strangely uncomfortable. It was as though I knew I was supposed to be there, but no one else realized it - not that anyone else really cared. It reminded me of the time when I was in 6th grade and had to go to the high school for something...not one single person looked at me but I felt as though they all might as well be staring. Somehow through my muddled thoughts I managed to walk over to a bunch of animal pens. I thrust my thoughts out of my mind in order to look around.

Llamas, camels, elephants and more: the circus was a regular ark. I walked over to a camel and put out my hand. The camel came over and smelled it calmly. I couldn't help silently thanking that camel. He (she?) was the only creature I had met during the past week that hadn't asked me if I was ok.

"I'm fine," I said, just in case it really was asking me, but I couldn't understand its animal thoughts.

"You're Mallory, aren't you?" I heard a voice behind me say. I turned around quickly, my heart instantly racing. I found myself looking into the eyes of a boy my age.

Great. Sure. The one time I leave the trailer I get caught talking to a camel. I mentally clobbered myself for letting my guard down. If the workers here didn't already think I was crazy, they certainly would now.

"I'm Joshua," he declared, offering his hand.

I didn't say a thing, he had short, casually ruffled brown hair, and his eyes were a deep brown, with ultra tiny flecks of green. My mother's eyes were that kind of brown. I found myself staring into his eyes until I finally snapped out of it. I shook his hand, still speechless.

"You like Poppy," he said, not a question, but this time I had a response.

"Poppy?" I asked. Was this guy talking about a flower? Maybe I really had gone crazy. Maybe he was a hallucination...but with my luck he would be one of those unhelpful ones that told me to stand on my head instead of the meaning of life.

"The camel. Her name is Poppy." He pointed over my shoulder to the animal behind me. "I'm really surprised, Poppy hates strangers." He scooped a small pile of food pellets from the base of the fence and put it in my hand.

"Go ahead, feed her." He said and gave me a welcoming smile. I didn't smile back.

"Um...okay." I held out my hand and 'Poppy' took it easily from my hand.

"You're good with animals. Granted I'm no expert but you knew how to approach her without startling her," he said in a friendly manner, smiling again. I could tell he wanted me to smile back, but all I could think of was the five goldfish I once had. They all died within four days, one of them turning belly up on my ninth birthday. I felt that 'blah' inside of me coiling up again. I just wanted to run away. I couldn't deal with myself anymore, much less other people and their comforting smiles. The nicer they were to me, the more I seemed to resent them. I just couldn't figure out why.

I simply couldn't figure out anything.

"I have to go," I said quickly and walked back toward the trailer before the tears burning at the back of my eyes had a chance to spill. My first attempt at accepting my fate and I was worse off than when I had arrived.

How am I ever going to make it through this?

"Circus Monkeys -- Chap 2 (R)"