Helter Skelter The quaky ladder was shaking, and I was the only breeze under its branches at that point. It was the biggest show yet; in front of everyone but actual audience members. I have seen this act before, and never have I thought I would be the next to do it: to plunge down headfirst into the ring whilst the lions (they kept them starving) devour me for my knowledge of what occurs behind the curtain. They scraped a cut on my wrist and cheek, to arouse the lions’ bloodlust before they sent me up. Enough with pessimism. Breathe. There would be a possibility of me surviving if I catch the tightrope with my teeth as I fall down. I grasp the jagged spaces of rope between the boards forming the ladder, my hands blistering from the splinters the string was giving me. Never have I ever imagined that I would be the one to perish in such a brutal fashion. The climb of shame commenced, I avoided the rotten grenades being thrown my way; hitting my back, hitting my feet, hitting my head. The faster I get this over with the faster I can escape. The decision was simple; it was vivid the show-tacular fantasy was indeed the opposite of what it seemed. Some see garlands, other see strings of guts hanging ornately from the ceiling. I kept climbing, my world vanishing behind me like footprints in a windy desert. The swanky red border around the platform was soon in my reach, the golden star pattern its wavy edges were bejeweled in was glowing in the iridescent light. The formality of this event was making me even more sick. How twisted could this get? My hands now grasped the other edge of the platform, gripping the edge prudently, pulling my feet up behind me, bringing myself to a stand. Was it just me or was everything shaking? No. I couldn’t faint now. That would ruin it for me, and for everyone watching. The tightrope got thinner the more one stared blankly at it; were they changing it at an inhumane speed every time I blinked? The sharp-toothed smiles were the only things visible in the crowd. I glance out the small flap on the tent’s colorful roof: the only leak of natural light in this hell-hole of a boat. The old helter skelter was found in the exact state I recalled it; its candy cane stripes bold, the winding slide around it helped with maintaining its proud posture. The figure of that devilish, red centaur pulling a silly face at you, challenging you to a friendly race, was also present; staring me right into the eyes. Something told me I was going to miss it, regretting the fact that I have not ever seen the inside of it. The sudden sight of Ditso and GooGoo tossing a euphoric child down the tunnels of death inside that brown sack followed by the adrenalin-filled scream altering into horror before my eyes changed my mind drastically. The crowd had been rather patient with me, and I had the right to be grateful they did not attempt to shake the platform to ruin my balance. I felt the metallic tight rope with my toe tentatively. I was not given one of those balance bars acrobats receive. Breathe. I looked out into the crowd again. There was Esmeralda grasping her whip and tapping her leather boots in impatience, Corbin’s muscular arms crossed, his mustache hanging at 180 degrees. There was Zeke, holding his ticket box, greedily bathing his hands in the coins and bits of paper, Bonnie at the heels of the pole of my platform, simply there to convince me that I do not want to change my mind. I kept searching the crowd for that one person that I absolutely was craving to see again. And there she stood, half in the shadow of the tent, leaning onto one of the poles holding the tent upright by its entrance. She was smirking up at me in her typical fashion. My stomach began to churn as I glanced down at Cesarius, Lucia, and Blake, all pacing with the drool of hunger round’ their jaws. One might wonder how I have gotten myself into this unfortunate situation. I took my first shaky step forward onto the tightrope. I have let the community manipulate me rotten. The key had always been looking deeper, however, my eyes have never been taught how to swim. To think of it…this kafuffle began when our town’s very first non-traveling circus established... The arched red gate was very visually appealing, and like a cowboy, roping anyone and everyone who caught sight of it through. Even if it was only briefly, there was not one person in this whole town who had not been to the circus. Me, being quite a late bloomer with trends, took my time until I finally entered its grounds. I stopped by the snacks stand, making my first encounter with Candice: the girl with hair resembling the color of a washed pink. She caused the look to be natural, and her confidence shot down the inquiries of whether or not it’s real. The pleasant atmosphere the caramel apple was creating inside my mouth was tugging at my will strings to pursue the rest of the attractions and have fun. I had been to several circuses before; most of the attractions appeared very mundane to me. But there was one thing that struck me. Oblique-standing from my angle, loud, proud, happy. The words below a large figurine read ‘Helter Skelter’. Yes, that is the helter skelter I had been talking about. You would have probably guessed it played a significant role in my condemnation to death. Like a bundle of clueless and naiveté, I skip towards the ticket booth and then I lock eyes with her bright green ones. For a split second, the suspicious incident causes the floor to rattle. “Next.” The bored voice of GooGoo shouted above the obnoxious noise the queue was making. I stepped forward, fiddling with the banknotes in my pocket after taking the last scrumptious bite out of my caramel apple and casting its popsicle stick aside. The tip of GooGoo’s nose was painted red in a vague heart shape, her mouth was outlined with more red and filled in with white; she was wearing the funkiest pattern of lipstick one had ever seen. Her bright blue eyeshadow arched her eyebrows and beyond. A humongous pink bow made from a similar material that one could find on a picnic blanket was resting on top of her curly blonde wig. She was quite the solid character. The tough way she was making slurping sounds whilst chewing her gum and the way she was stretching it out on her fingers from time to time gave one a sudden sense of not willing to mess with her. “That’ll be four dollars, sacks are on the right. Enjoy the ride.” She barely lifted a finger to show me the directions. I felt a sudden grasp on my arm. The tug made me jump; I had been concentrated on GooGoo’s character for too long and the sudden snap back to reality was rather disturbing. Then again….was what I was looking at reality? The girl who had pulled me. How could I ever forget her? “Hey…” the cringe overtook my squeaked words. And then, taking a gloved hand, she smacked me right across my face. For no apparent reason. I didn’t say anything that would have offended her. She was quite a sight...her hair was the color of purple; galaxy purple. And she had so many waves and locks of it that despite it being fastened into two high pigtails, it looked as if it was part of her regular hair, without it having been done up. Her clothes consisted of a dark vest and yet again, a purple skirt, rather on the poufy side. She was wearing these striped socks, however unequally arranged; barely peeking out of her large boots. “What the hell did you do that for?!” something gave me the instinct to whisper-shout. The popsicle stick inside her mouth was pacing in a very rampaging manner. She just stared at me. Bright green eyes. The squiggly, black shadow of her iris making it clear that they were contacts. “Do not go on the helter skelter.” She said firmly, in a tone that did not demand questions. I look back at the tower; the figure, and GooGoo’s bored face in the ticket booth. The long queue from before had vanished behind my back as if it was made up in the first place. My complexion is puzzled. I feel her hand on my shoulder, adding more weight my gravity had to carry. She knew what she was talking about, that was about it. An earsplitting scream coming from behind me made me jump forward, having her push me back again. “W-what’s the deal with the helter skelter?” I squeak hopefully. “Arabella. I’ll see you around.” She smirked; with that, though, she let go of me, and skipped herself into the camouflage of the crowded fairgrounds. I have never been left behind with so much confusion in my #life. Like an idiot, I felt a magnetic attraction pulling me towards this possible Arabella. I walked towards the large tent as if I was wearing flippers instead of shoes. My eyes lurking about for clues like lions hunting for prey. Speaking of lions, it was about the time I am able to tie my experience with the circus together. To sum everything up, that evening I watched the show. More like I watched the tent and waited for a sign of Arabella. Hell, I ended up watching the show four nights in a row; until I had every move…every line memorized. I wasn’t nearly as impressed with the magic acts as I was with Arabella’s disappearing act. On the fifth day, my luck started changing. More like…my motivation. I arrived early for the show that evening, and in stupid hopes of avoiding being slapped, I kept clear of the helter skelter, deciding to wander through the cage trailers, where animals were usually kept. “Typical you…I knew you never fucking cared to begin with!” I heard some woman scream. A trailer’s metallic door was forced open with a thud, it repelled against the wall and it fell shut brutally. Although it was grass, the sound of heavily-pounding boots was still audible. I froze my gaze on the sleepy lions and watched around the cage with my ears. The footprints ceased, and I knew exactly why: the reason that was last on the list of things I wanted to happen. “What are you doin’ here?” the woman demanded, then spat at the ground. I looked up guiltily. “I…uh…have arrived…early. A-am I not allowed to wander around?” she was holding was making me nervous. “What can I do you for?” she clicked her tongue, onto the cage. Her eyes scanned me up and down. “Do ya happen to have a job at the mo, pumpkin?” yes, I shove fries into oil at McDonalds. “No.” was my reply. “Ah….very well…” she smirked, “We’re hiring you know.” She ruffled her sheer red skirt to arrange it, then trotted closer. “there are just certain jobs that people don’t want to do and…” she kept going on and on about nonsense. I lost track of her words when a familiar looking purple hair peeked from behind one of the trailers in the distance. “Hello? Pumpkin, you ain’t getting nowhere if you don’t listen. We wouldn’t want em’ to eat you up, you know.” “Eat me up?!” that got my attention, “come again?” “You should listen. It would be rather ineffective if we’d just end up killing off all our new interns, you see.” She chuckled, pinching my shoulder playfully. “Ah, don’t gimme that look. If you accept the job, you’ll get some income. Don’t expect too much; Zeke’s one cheap, rotten bastard, I’ll tell you.” The more I think of this conversation…the funnier it gets. “Zeke…?” “Alrighty, I gotta jiggle. Catch ya tomorrow at 5 sharp, tater-tot!” she ran a hand through her perfectly-curled golden locks, then spun on her impossibly thin heels, sashaying her way through the back door of the circus, letting her whip trail behind her on the ground as she dragged it along. And that, my friends, is how you land a job at the circus. Unwillingly. So, thanks to the karma my distraction skills earned me, I showed up at 5am like an idiot. The early morning fog had not yet been perished to the power of the sun and I had never seen the fairgrounds so…empty. Everything was quiet or faintly humming along with the wind. And damn, it was chilly. "What are you doing here so early?" a voice burst out laughing from behind me. Her words were so full of air that they matched perfectly to the already-set creepy atmosphere. I jumped, shuddering at all the predictions running through my head. One would not believe how relieved I felt when I turned to see the face of Arabella instead of some psychopath. "Oh, it's you!" I laugh, almost wanting to give her a hug...like a reunion between old friends. "Where have you been all this time? I came here every day and I-" "Woah woah woah. Let me get this straight." She flicked the lollipop out of her mouth, some saliva flinging between us. She was manner-less, but not in a repulsive way. "You were stalking me?" "No! No, of course not, where'd you get that from?" I answer quickly. She crossed her arms, pushing the lollipop back into her mouth. Her queer eyebrow arched upward as gracefully as an acrobat. Her green eyes squinted at me. "Hopefully watching the show not finding an excuse to test the helter skelter." I tilted my head in confusion. "Wait, what? No, I just got hired. I'm here to catch an early start at my job!" I wink proudly. Arabella finds this extremely amusing as well. "I beg your pardon, what?" she sticks her tongue out at me; now tinted purple from that lollipop. "You working at the circus? For what job?" and that is when my brain crashed. Oh no, Arabella, I was too distracted when I finally found you after so many days to listen to what that woman holding the whip was telling me about my job. "I uh...well one of your colleagues said that you're hiring, and it's a very dirty job, and I would get paid an acceptable income if I do it." I puff out my chest proudly. "Ah." She smirked. "Who?" "W-what?" "Who hired you?" "I don't think she mentioned her name...?" "What job?" She was firing questions so promptly, that it was very hard to twist around the truth and work on an appropriate answer. "Making sure they don't eat me up." I replied stupidly, knowing that was the only damn thing I remembered from my conversation. She chuckled. "Ah. The new lion feeder. There's a reason no one wants to do that job, you know." She punched me once again softly, "You can't resist Esmeralda's offer, though!" her wink left me there, standing in the fog all frozen. Lion feeder? That made sense. Me and my big eyes. "Lion feeder..." I clicked the words to my palate, swallowing them in jagged pieces. What an upgrade from McDonald's. I looked around hysterically for Arabella, but typically, she disappeared inside a pocket of fog. Damn it. I was about to tear in her direction and feed my starving (might I add) curiosity. The familiar heavy sound of pounding boots changed my mind. My frozen state returned. "Someone's more enthusiastic than I thought! Well I'll be dammed." Esmeralda was scanning me with her eyes for skill as she did when we first ran into each other. She was shaking her head slowly. "I meant five in the afternoon, tater tot." she clicked her tongue, her fingers gliding above the whip's striking details. "Y-yes m'am. Sorry M'mam...I just..." quick, think of an excuse! Be clever! Why the hell does she have to be so much like a ladylike army general?! "Yeah?" "I...told my friend about my new job. He has a masters in Zoology and told me that I must feed the lions before the sun rises..." I bite my lip and glance warily at the sky, "Well...shit." "Don't give me yer fancy science theories. I told you a time to be here." Yeah. So much for a smooth excuse. It was only half true, anyway. "Were you not listenin' to a word I was sayin'?" she was getting impatient. I have never met a woman with such short a temper. Her curly blonde locks were shaking as she talked. Now that I think of it, she looked much like a lioness herself. "I was...uh..yeah...just abiding my...um theories?" Esmeralda rolled her eyes. "You know what? Do whatever the hell you want. We finally got someone to do that damn job and I'm not helpin' the situation with scaring you away like that. Sorry, tater-tot. I tend to get a little strict sometimes..." she smiled. She...smiled at me. It wasn't as pleasant as you'd think; there was a vivid lack of hygiene in the fairgrounds, but at least she didn't eat me alive, right? A fuzzy ball of a bright color scheme caught my eye in the distance...somewhere around helter skelter. It wasn't Arabella. I pull myself up on my tip toes to peek over Esmeralda, shifting from foot to foot. “Did I lose you again, pumpkin?” she sighs in hopelessness. I plant my heels on the ground immediately, using all my self-control to keep them there. It was as impossible as holding two hangry guard-dogs away from food. “Who’s up there?” I point towards the tower eagerly. Esmeralda looks back, but does not give them much attention. “Come along then, I’m sure Zeke would like to take a look at his new employee.” She extended her whip in the direction of the tent. I follow her blindly inside the glowing tent, eyes glued to the helter skelter. The fuzzy figure multiplied; there were three up there now. Faint laughter was audible from their direction as I set foot inside the tent. The sunlight was causing the red plastic to glow. It was unusually warm, too. And empty of decorations. It was eerie to see such a mystical place stripped of it’s sex-appeal. In the middle of the ring stood Corbin; a guy who’s steroids hit the arm muscles but forgot the waist (which was tiny). He nods at me and acknowledges Esmeralda who uses her finger as a response. He resumes grumbling at the weight located at his feet. “Zeke!” damn, could that woman project. She was terrible at it. I could feel my eardrums jump if anything. Out of two velvet red curtains that I had not noticed before, emerged a hunchbacked Zeke. Not for medical reasons, however. He was bent over that box of coins and banknotes hanging from his neck, clearly signifying that he’d rather meet a cup of coffee then his new employees. Esmeralda stretched her red lips into a sarcastic smile, moving it from Zeke to me. “Wha’dya want, kid?” there was a slight slur in his voice, but no alcohol was in sight. “I have found a new lion feeder.” She gestured to me, maintaining the smile. It was Zeke’s turn to show off his rotten-yellows. At least I think it was a smile. He waved Esmeralda off in a brutal fashion. “He can speak for himself!” he spat at her, “can’t you, sonny?” I gulp, then nod. Intimidating much? “I…I think I qualify for the job and…you have a very…er…lovely community here.” I speak the words I was rehearsing in my head. Zeke rises an eyebrow. “He was tellin’ me bout a master’s he has in zoo-olowhatnot. He knows all about lions.” Esmeralda puffed out her chest. “Get the fuck out of my sight! He doesn’t need your goddamn help!” He yelled, smacking her right across the face. It left a mark that only seemed to bother her. Her lip reacted; sputtering a couple drops of funky-colored blood. She gasped, bringing a pair of bony fingers to inspect it. “I try to help the community by bringin’ you good people to take care of the lions n’ stuff and this is what you give me you, corru-“ every reply got louder. But I blocked them out once I caught sight of a familiar distraction. A pair of bright green almonds was watching me from the darkness behind the curtains Zeke emerged from. Tentatively, I took a side-step towards them, without Zeke or Esmeralda noticing. “How about next time you ask me if we can afford a lion feeder, huh? Maybe that’ll get you to suck it up and stop asking for more fucking money!” Zeke explodes, then causes dust to emerge as he stumps his way back into the office muttering something on the lines of “women…” just loud enough for Esmeralda to mock him behind his back. He storms right past me, making it clear that I wasn’t paying attention. Again. But instead of the typical reaction from Esmeralda, she flings herself around me and begins to so thunderously into my shoulder. What. The. Fu- “It don’t get any better!” she hiccups, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” Awkwardly, I lift a hand and place it over her quaking back. Yep. Her lip was still leaking. Into my shoulder. Gross. She was so much taller than me with those go-go boots and whatnot. Was this out of the ordinary for a woman who holds a whip for a living? “Zekie-poo~!” Candice sashays her way into the tent in her typical fashion. She wipes the blood trickling from her lips and then wipes her hands on her grubby apron of her pink dress. Esmeralda groans and releases me. Candice was a magnet that repelled one’s tears of personal melodrama. We’re both required to make unnecessary way for her. Zeke marches out of his office eagerly, smelling the money in her voice. He greets her with a passionate kiss that makes my intestines knot some more. “Isn’t he…100 years older than her?” Esmeralda chuckles when I realized that I need to do some sorting between thoughts and things that I actually let out of my mouth. “Only 30, pumpkin…” she sighs, wiping her eyes, doing her best to adjust her makeup, unfortunately ending up a bloodier mess than before. I was this close from ripping a rag from my shirt to offer her. “Is she...pregn-” “Yep…” “Yes dear~?” I heard Zeke reply in the same tune, “Have you made the pies for daddy?” daddy? Of course, not literally, I hoped so anyway. But the thought. “Come along. I might as well introduce you to the lions and tell you what to do, since you’re here so early. Zeke’ll come around. Don’t let him get to you.” Esmeralda turned me using a hand on my back. It worked, until I realized I was leaving the pair of eyes behind the curtains. I froze in my tracks and turned around, perhaps she was still there. What was Arabella doing in Zeke’s tent anyway? “Esmeralda…?” I use the syllables in her name carefully, stepping on hot potatoes and I knew it. “What’s up, pumpkin?” she turned to look at me from her path. I could tell she’d rather think about something else. The glint in her distant eyes was vivid. “Do you know someone called….Arabella?” her name made my insides burn and melt. Similar to what her presence was doing to me. “Arabella? Purple hair, black clown nose, big boots, striped knee socks?” Esmeralda mocked her looks. I nod. She smiled. “But of course I do. Special child, ain’t she? Why, you met ‘er?” I cringe. “Sort of…I was just wondering…why was she in Zeke’s office?” I could tell she was expecting another question. “Oh, tatertot. I thought you met the child. She’s Zeke’s daughter.” She said, as if it was a well-known fact, “Well…adoptive daughter.” “Adoptive?” Esmeralda reaches forward and clasps one of the metal bars of the cages that were arranged in a circle of trailers, once we approached them. She shook it slightly, enough to make noise. Cesarius, Lucia, and Blake did not enjoy being woken up. I had yet to learn that. They groaned and grumbled, claws scraping firmly across the concrete floor caked with hay and feces, to inspect the source of their unwanted alarm. They were huge. Larger than I expected. Smelled worse than a barn. It was one thing to see them in a ring with a net that rose high above them to stop them from escaping then to be a few inches away from psycho-killer cats. “I’ll set up th’ bucket of feed the first couple a’ weeks right here,” she points to the red bucket resting at edge of the cage, “All ye have to do is check and make sure that what’s in there goes in that cage. Toss it in, simply. They’ll love you even for the slightest of meat.” She chuckled, reaching into the bucket and pulling out a hearty piece of meat. Instantly, the lions’ attention switched from their annoyance of being woken up to the juicy prodigy in Esmeralda’s hands. Their pupils were dilating and un-dilating so rapidly, it was almost as if she was holding up some spiny yo-yo rather than a piece of meat. She chucks it inside between the bars and they claw at each other in order to obtain it. “Remind me if I forget to set it up, ‘kay?” I nod sharply. “Anything else?” “Well they do eat a lot. I don’t suppose you’d mind excercisin’ their fatasses around before a show?” she beamed at me, flapping her false eyelashes. “Uh…sure thing. How would I do that?” I gasped. There it was again, the fuzzy figures atop the helter skelter. There I go again, blocking out Esmeralda for important information. Because, you know, every normal person would put curiosity in front of their lives. Not an idiot…not an idiot… “Pumpkin? Hello?” Of course. “Yeah? Sorry. I said I’ll exercise them.” Esmeralda sighed, shaking her head, then she left me standing there, with my view yet again frozen on the helter skelter. Hell, I didn’t even notice she was gone. Because on its steps stood Arabella. It felt like rocks were attached to my sneakers as I approached her. Gravity sure enjoyed chaining me down. She seemed to be as lost in thought or concentrated on something as I was. That, or she believed that I was a glass wall. Clowns are so spontaneous. “Hey…” my voice croaked eagerly. She didn’t even flinch. “Sup.” Pop. Spit. “The sky.” I replied, smoothly; I thought. She nodded a smirk, scooting over and patting a seat next to her. “I don’t think I’ve introduced myself..” I start, then realize that I sound super retarded. I cleared my throat for a fresh start. “I’m Dave.” “Arabella.” “Yeah, I know, you told me; on the first day remember?” “Did I, now?” of course, that’s all I’ve been dreaming about since! “Yeah. That’s cool if you don’t remember me though.” “You’re funny, Dave.” She didn’t laugh, “You’re not stalking me, are you?” “Stalking you? Hell no! We had this conversation before. I work here now, remember?” I wink. “Ah. What job?” “Lion feeder.” “Who hired you?” “Your dad.” I could depict the slightest bit of color return to her face to light up the white makeup. Instead of cringing, expressing her disgust, or whatnot, she just burst out laughing. “Get out.” “What? No, Arabella, I’m sorry, what?” that’s why I should be feeding my own tongue to the lions. “Dad doesn’t hire. There are no job openings. I dunno what you’re doing here.” She strategically places the lollipop on her tongue. She was so electric, it wasn’t uncanny I was left muttering obliviously. “Can I be your lollipop?” “What?!” “W-what? Nothing…nice weather, ey?” “Didn’t we have this conversation before?” she asks, full of skepticism. Finally. Thank God he didn’t make you stupid. “Maybe…?” “Do you like it?” “Like what?” “Your new job.” “Yeah, I mean it’s alright I guess... I haven’t actually star-“ “Cool.” And so, I have lost her to her own thoughts. I’m not a selfless guy, so naturally, I returned to my own. “What are they doing?” I directed the words up at the tower, but it’s intimidating nature was dimming my words down. “Their job.” She shrugs. No shit, Dave. “What’s your’s?” “Unemployed.” “Oh? How come? Doesn’t your dad have a special place for yo-“ “No. It would be called incest or whatever if I worked for a family member.” “You’re saying…your dad’s a pimp?” “Gross, Dave! Why are you so revolting?!” It was going to take time and patience to understand her. It didn’t take long to realize that. I was told to share a trailer with Corbin that night. Trailer #life has always made me wonder. And Corbin had always made me regret that. But in my idiot days, I was not hesitant and joined him with curiosity. “What do you mean there’s no shower?” I so wished the floor could turn into quicksand. There I was, standing before him, with nothing but a towel around my waist, my bathing supplies in hand, and a cheesy shower cap that was most likely crooked. He, on the other hand, was squinting at a small television who’s image consisted of 95% static, shirtless and all steroids, a beer in one hand, and the other resting behind his head. It sure looked like a scene from one of those movies. “Shh!” he waved me off, causing beer to ooze from how tightly he was gripping and shaking at that can. I dropped my loofa, but it didn’t make that loud a statement as I expected. “Just great…” I mutter, “how the hell do you clean yourselves then?” “The sink’s open, now shut the fuck up, I’m trying to listen.” He was watching a football match; but only for the announcers were saying. No one could blame him here because there wasn’t much image to watch. My eyes shifted a little appalled to the minuscule sink that I realized I was leaning against. So then I jumped back at the sight of the mold creeping up its sides, only to have my back met by the other wall. What the hell is claustrophobia? I glanced at Corbin, to ensure that his intense interest remained in the game. Get. Yourself. Together. My gag reflex was not known for its endurance, though. It took me several minutes of contemplation whether to sacrifice my hygiene or not, but I managed to convince my hands to push open the rusty tap. At first, there were putrid colored drops, even though it was set to full power. Drip. Drip. Drip. It moaned in agony when I closed it and opened it again. And then, it started emitting an uncomfortable noise, as if it had intestines that could not untangle themselves. The whole sink was shaking. Earthquake or coincidence? To my utter disgust and intended un-interest, the source of the clogging and indigestion in the pipes. The fattest, most brown and heavy of cockroaches squeezed its way up the faucet, dropping like a rock in the sink. Plop. Its legs were so fat I could hear it scamper on the floor of the sink frantically. I stuck a fist in my mouth to prevent myself from screaming, looking at Corbin to ensure the ‘coast was clear’. My head snapped back to the cockroach…who was clearly rehearsing for the magic act since it was not in the sink anymore. Everything around me stopped. The floor was shifting left and right underneath my feet, never seeming to settle for a direction to turn in. I heard the scampering again; its footsteps echoing in the blankness the fear has created within my mind. I almost felt them. No, I felt them. I felt them? I felt… “AHHHHHH! IT’S ON MY LEG! SHIT! GET IT OFF!” I knew I didn’t bestow a birthmark that large, or scampering. Its feet had a stronger grip then I thought and I stirred my balance in an attempt to shake it off more than I stirred his. I plummeted through the uncomfortably unlocked door and into the thankful grass, who caught my fall. It didn’t catch my towel. “Dave?” you know that feeling after a fall, when you are just paralyzed and contemplate on how that fall happened and nothing in the world matters more than how fast it actually happened? The impact with the ground had just started bleeding in and the pain stung like a knife. Arabella’s green eyes looked right through me, as usual. The dark lines in the contacts now more visible in the evening light. My smile attempt becomes a grimace excuse. “Hey there…” stones roll out of my mouth and into the ground, stomping on my tongue as they do so. “Chakachip. Have you been causing trouble again?” she scolds in an unusually mushy voice. The contrast to her normal tone ran a furrow through my eyebrows. But she wasn’t talking to me. She couldn’t care less about her naked possibly stalker. She peers over me in an uncomfortable position, and out of nowhere, extends a finger and places it on my thigh. I could still feel her fingertip hours after she removed it. Her touch had hypnotized my nerves. I went numb. The familiar scampering of feet removed all the numbness, though, like a bad anesthesia. I watched as the mutant wrapped its filthy legs around Arabella’s bony finger, pulling itself onto her hand. She gave it a sloppy kiss upon its back, placing the cockroach on her shoulder. Appalment was gagging me loudly. “Y-you know that…that…” “Cockroach. Chakachip here’s almost beaten the world record in her size. Isn’t she charming?” she strokes her roach proudly. I sit up, reassured by the fact that it was perched on her shoulder and not on mine. “Why do take care of pests?” “You’re naked.” “I…am.” “What are you trying to get at, Dave?” great. Every inch of my body became sunburnt with blush, I swear. So I use my hand as a towel instead. I cringe up at Arabella, snuggling Chakawhatitscalled. That creature was laughing me in high pitched buzzes, I can tell. “Your pet was in my trailer, it kind of startled me as I was about to take a shower.” “Corbin’s trailer does not have a shower.” She retorted. “Well yeah, I figured that out when he directed me to the sink.” “You wash in the sink? That’s gross.” “I’m…sorry?” “I’m late. Are you coming?” she held out a hand to me. It was so dainty, covered up in that dirty cotton glove. I could almost take it. Almost. My butterfly brain had left me without important pieces of information. Or has it? “Coming where? I’m naked!” the throws her head back and laughs at my state, or something. “To the roach races! Over in Ditso’s tent.” She grabs my hand before I could hesitate even more. So I let myself be hoisted up by Arabella’s energy. She pulled me up to the sky with her and we floated to the black tent together, hand in hand. I didn’t need clothes when I was wearing her spirit. There are odd things out there, and my first roach race was one of the things I’m still striving to understand. The obscure tent was illuminated from the inside by a single flickering lightbulb, sustained by its own wire. There, on the table that was usually used for other purposes was a beautifully crafted race track, fit for the size of roaches. It was made out of wood and I was pretty sure it was handmade. There was GooGoo, her big bow bobbling about as she cared for the roaches, setting them in their lanes and pushing down the plastic stopper to prevent foul play. Ditso was mumbling over his glass which he claimed was tea; his thoughts and everything random that affected him. Esmeralda was pressed up against the wall at a safe distance from the tracks, squeezing Bonnie’s hand. Candice stood on the other end of the tent, picking at her arm with a rusty kitchen knife. Hell, even Zeke (and his money) was there, cupping that red box lustfully. “There you are, kid! They’re impatient tonight because of the full moon.” Googoo slaps Arabella in what seemed like a playful intent, but having a brutal outcome. Arabella wipes the slobber from her mouth and chuckles. “Hold your roaches. Chakachip went missing but I found her. You all are going to eat her dust tonight.” She places the roach, now snuggled in her purple locks, into the 3rd track. “By the way, this here is Dave. He’s a nudist or somethin’.” Esmeralda tried hard not to cringe, I could tell. As sorry as I was for her, she was the only safe familiar face in the room, so it was most natural for me to slink to them. “You go, babygirl! Make me proud!” she singsongs to the track, blowing it multiple kisses. “Bets?” Zeke rattled his box eagerly. Everyone unwillingly dropped at least a coin in it as he went around. He stopped at me and I could taste the sweat rolling down my forehead. “Do you have a roach, sonny?” “It’s Dave. No, sorry, where I come from roaches are pests not pets.” “Where do you come from?” “What?” “Where do you come from that roaches can’t be pets, huh? Judging by the filthy way yer dressed, it can’t be from anywhere civilized.” He soaks my toes in his spit. Gross. “On your marks, get set, go!” Esmeralda waved to GooGoo anxiously. She gave her a curt nod, and lifted the flap. I could only hear Chakachip’s trot. Arabella won second and she was devastated. I later found out that these races happened every Wednesday, the same day the cast gets paid. It was Zeke’s way of getting his money back, which is why the circus is usually so empty; since everyone gets into cars and tries to spend the small income they receive on things other than roach racing. Those who do not bet are paid back by Zeke; either through some sort of physical torture or not being paid at all. The winner of the bets didn’t get anything but the satisfaction that they won. But there wasn’t any other winner other than Zeke. Ever. It made everyone feel naked. What else were they allowed to feel? Corbin let me sleep in more than I should have the next day he won third and it makes sense he wouldn’t tolerate anyone who supported Arabella. Even though there was no winner. I slept until midday; so many hours that I disgust myself. So I did what I’d usually do; brush my hair, tug on a t-shirt that doesn’t camouflage under the smell of the lion’s cage, sniffed at my breath. I almost ripped of a whole row of teeth, forgetting what world I have entered; one with trailers and stairs. The fairgrounds have been decorated with small stands and booths along the path that leads to the tent, who was closed during the day. It was sickeningly sunny, and the proud Helter Skelter was the first thing that caught my eye in the blaring sun. Instinctively, I was searching for my interest. For my Arabella. Did I say she’s mine? There she stood, slumped over a booth of her own, her head resting in her hand. She looked exasperated. A metal can that read TIPS stood in front of her. It seemed that she was glaring at the can instead of anyone in particular. Kissing booth. “Arabella?” she painted her lips magenta today. Otherwise, she didn’t even bother adjusting the bow and the eerie skull that held her pigtails together. “What?” I told myself she lightened up to see me. So, like an idiot, I try to help her. As if Arabella needs someone to help her. I rummage in my pockets for a coin, and flick a quarter into her can with a smirk. Plonk. I heard it echo its way down the walls. Arabella did not enjoy the noise of coins one bit. That, or even Carmex wouldn’t fix my lips to a kissable state. I wasn’t ready. She shrieked, knocking the can over with her hands, the quarter flying out at my feet. I pick it up awkwardly. “S-sorry, you don’t have to kiss me I was just…um…trying to help.” “I can get all the kisses in the world.” She mutters to the floor, crossing her arms over her chest. She painted black teardrops on her cheeks. Yesterday was hearts. “I was just thinking that if nobody came you’d feel pretty ba-“ “If I wanted to.” “Wanted to what?” “Get kissed.” “Why are you sitting in the kissing booth then? Come, you can help me feed the lions or something.” “Dave?” She looks up at me. Real tears. She could cry? “Hm?” “Am I pretty?” the rattle of a chain was heard once she stood up and approached me as far as she could from behind the booth. The kind of chain you’d tie around the leg of a public enemy in jail was holding onto Arabella’s foot for dear #life. She was attached to the booth. My lack of answer caused her to smile nervously. I could have sworn I saw a worm wiggle through her rotten teeth. There must be something wrong with my brain. It’s always lying to me. Arabella is the most beautiful sight I have ever seen. Her hair paints the sun at sunset and her lips kiss the edge of the night sky. Her eyes, as deceiving as the green can be, look into your soul. Trust me, this girl is poison. She infected my daydreams since night one. “Well…” I blush. I couldn’t do it without making more of a fool out of myself. She was probably visualizing me naked. I’m so lame. “No…right?” why did her tone have to me so gentle? “Why does it matter?” I smile at her, “it doesn’t define greatness.” “No one will love you if you’re unattractive, you know?” she looked down at herself, ruffling her tutu. “Who the hell told you that? I’ve never heard such bullshit since-“ “It’s true, isn’t it? That’s why I didn’t get any coins.” “You can’t say that! I placed as coin just a second ago and you rejected it! I’m sorry, but that’s not the way you save money.” “Don’t pity me, Dave.” She replied sternly. It wasn’t a good idea to argue with her. “I’m not pi-“ “Don’t pity me, Dave!” she growls. Then, after a few seconds of her staring offensively at me, she slumps back in the position I found her in before. “Leave me alone.” “No…no, Arabella, come on. You can’t change anything you don’t want to change.” What’s with all the #quotes? “Just…go!” "You'll hate me if I do..." the can made a more interesting conversation partner than me. I let out a sigh carefully, as if even air coming out of my mouth was able to harm her. I took the dead air between us as an exit of the moment. To this day, I feel sorry I didn't do more. There was an easier way out. So, forcing reality back into my brain; I was here to do my job, not to romance my boss's daughter. I didn't even like her in that way. She just...intrigues me. I reached the lion cages, and my feline friends were sleeping peacefully atop their hay. They almost looked harmless. There was no sign of the buckets Esmeralda was supposed to lay out for me, so as she told me, I went to search for her. The fairgrounds were bigger than I calculated; the space was either open or filled by some attraction. The last place to look was the one I dreaded the most. The main tent. "Esmeralda?" my voice was being a wimp, but I wasn't blaming it as the wind was making the flappy entrance usher me in. Corbin was up on a ladder, hanging strings of lights that all lead to one point. "Can I help ya, kid?" he wiped his hands on his greasy shirt, as if his work was dirty. It was new that he noticed me come in. "I'm....um, actually looking for Esmeralda." "Y'know, I know a better-looking slut that'll do better than that twat." What? "Thanks, man...but she told me to look for her if she forgot to take out the buckets with lion feed." "She always forgets things." He spat at the ring, leaving a stain in its dirt floor, and returned to his handy work of hanging up lights. Luckily, I wasn't completely lost after his lack of answer. Through the curtain leading to the kitchen, Esmeralda was balancing a total of five boxes that didn't look to light, walking backwards on her signature heels. "Esmeralda!" I grin in relief, skipping towards her. "Mornin' Dave. How ya doin'?" She smiled. I think. Even I couldn't tell where she was going. I followed her out, keeping an anxious eye on the boxes. I would love to have telekinesis. Yet again my lack of ability denied an easy way out. "Great, I was just looking for you to ask about the lion food?" my words controlled my legs, as I took a step forward, in front of her. Bad idea. And yet again, bad idea. The boxes stab me in the chest first, before plummeting back into Esmeralda, propelling her to the floor with a grunt. I try to be helpful instead of groaning at my stupidity. Glittery tool, velvet, scissors, and materials of the sort found a new place in the grass around Esmeralda, who seemed to be worrying about something other than her fall. A needle must have pierced through the box, justifying our little accident to be more severe than just a bump. With a visibly shaky hand, she extracts the pin by its blue tip from her breast slowly. It looked painful. And...a little gross, I mean you could see the skin cling onto the needle as she dragged it out. A freckle of blood formed where the pin had torn through her skin. And then, underneath the freckle of blood, a murky puddle of thick, yellow stuff crawled its way to the top. I noticed the same was happening to her lip. Esmeralda erupts into tears, her golden ringlets were quivering. She remained in her helpless position. I wasn't sure if the brew cooking inside my stomach contained disgust or sorrow. Speechlessly, I tried to spread my calm composure to her as I began cleaning up the materials around her, hunting the needles down first to insert them in a proper pincushion, or just tossing them in the heaped boxes strewn astray. Surprisingly, Esmeralda retained her contentment in no time. It sickened me even further to see how even the slightest bit of help offered here was considered too little or too much. I helped her up, balancing her over my shoulder. She was mere gelatin. "Dave?" she whimpers, "can you help me to my trailer, tater-tot?" I nod grimly, obeying the injured. It wasn't a special-looking trailer, but at least her's had a bathroom. It was small and cozy, and smelled like her. Clothes that were strewn astray decorated the place, making it welcoming. And out of place. Everything in it had its own energy. And it was trying hard to be a normal home. Esmeralda collapsed on the lace-covered couch. Hugging a box of tissues with anxiety. I walk around, trying hard not to let my grabby hands touch something. There was one thing that caught my eye. The windows were jailed in cloth and more clothing, so only the flickering lamplight held the room alive. What sparkled indeed was a vanity table. Its mirror was decorated with shimmery photos, diagrams, drawings...I stepped closer, cupping my hand around the light that illuminated them. They were bills, and maps, and letters too. An occasional plastic rose. A shredded ribbon. It was a collage that best described Esmeralda. 'NewMe' read the curvy silhouette of the logo I found on most of those papers, Doctor Anthony Santorino. Underneath the bills I found recites; breast implants, liposuction, botox; the zeroes at the bottom not enough to make the information sound safe. "Are you going through my stuff?!" Oh. So that makes stitches. "No! Of course not." Her tone changed so quickly, I fumbled and dropped the papers I was holding, smiling nervously. She's suffering a leakage. But...why? "He's great, ain't he?" she takes a tissue and dabs at the liquid on her breast, "I'll tell ya, Dave, that doctor's a miracle worker! I just wish you'd have bumped into me later. That cheap rat, Zeke, won't pay enough for me to have 'em restored." "Sorry...I didn't know you had...that they were..." "Fake? Miracle worker, I told ya." She outlines her bloody lips next, crumpling the tissue and letting it fall onto the table in front of her. I sit myself next to her, feeling uneasy on the edge of the couch. She was dizzy, I could tell. "Did I smudge my make up?" she gasps, grasping her face, "damnit. I have to re-countour before the world can see my face again." "Looks fine to me." I reply, honestly not seeing any difference. "What has gotten you so jumpy about your appearance, if you don't mind me asking?" she was arranging her outfit in the mirror now, squeezing at her nonexistent puppyfat. "Dave, don't be silly." She chuckles, "it's the only way to gain respect." "Through being jumpy about your appearance? You have no reason to, Esmeralda, you look fine. And to be honest...who wouldn't respect someone who holds a whip 24/7?" "Yes, yes, but no one'll love you if you're unattractive." She snarled her teeth in the mirror, picking out and spots that turned them more yellow or more black. That motto again. "Did... Arabella tell you that?" I look at her, finally finding something that affects me. "The child? Why in the world would you think such thing, Dave? She's as innocent as pumpkin pie with pink frosting. Who could have gotten such ideas in that little brain of her's!" "Alright," I shook away the impulse to tell her, "why plastic surgery though?" "Because one day, Zeke'll look at me the same way. And we'll have a happy family when I have my baby." She said softly, cupping the places she's been filled in. "But I gotta save up every penny and prettify myself up if I wanna get any attention around here." "What are you talking about? Don't you hate Zeke?" Esmeralda sighed, and with that returns to her seat. For a second, I thought she was going to start crying again. "I do. I mean, I should. He had done so much there is nothing I can give in return but hate." I groan, rubbing my forehead in confusion. Another thing I had yet to understand. "let me just get you your bucket of meat and set you going, alright?" "I thought you were gonna start explaining." "Newbies don't get explanations. We don't trust ‘em." She wrinkles her nose playfully, standing up, "commin'?" "What?! I'll be loyal! It's not like I have anywhere else to go!" "Dave. The circus ain't gonna grow legs and walk away from you then. What's the fun if I feed you all the answers? You ain't a lion. Now, speakin' of which, you'll have to go. You'd hate to have em wake up on a hungry stomach." "Just tell me one thing." I stand up after her, clenching my fitsts in frustration; but far away from actually throwing one at her. "what's the truth about the helter skelter?" "Why? Did someone tell you anything?" I could have sworn she turned paler. But it was too short a time to prove it. I shook my head. "Well, there's nothing to that old thing. Maybe one day Ditso'll or GooGoo'll let you help them organize the sacks, if you’re that curious." "Are you kidding me? Arabella assaulted me when I bought a ticket!" "Oh, Arabella..." she sighs, shaking her head with a smile, "special child, ain't she?" and with that, she was out the door, waiting for me to follow. To feed the lions. To fall into the clockwork routine of the circus. And then maybe to find something out. Was there something I should find out? Was there something...? "Cesarius! Lucia! Blake! C'mon out you lazy puttycats!” as memorable as the people here are, I still couldn't be able to match the faces of the lions with their name. I don't sound as determined as Esmeralda would like me to sound, as I select a hearty piece of steak and drag it across the bars of the cage, like an ironic prisoner of jail. Apart from Lucia, that is, who was the only lioness, and the only lion healthy enough to approach me for food. Esmeralda must have taken out her anger on their back. It wouldn't be unusual if someone confused them with a distinct breed of tiger. She sniffs at the meat and delicately removes it from my hand, scoffing it down in one bite. "Good. You like that?" I reach my hand out to stroke her slick head, but she winces away. I was surprised not to be greeted with a brutal behavior. The other two don't even bother to look at me, causing me to toss their meat into their filthy hay with limited aim. Observing them through the bars set my mind pondering; who was the prisoner, really? Was it me, or was it them? It wasn't their choice to make a living off of performing. In fact, it was more like making a death. I kept hauling chunks and chunks of meat at them, finding myself to be holding hands. Hands? Lifted by a limp finger was a chopped off hand, dangling right in front of me. I shudder, and it drops back into the bucket with my shiver. "Do you like them?" I look up, my vision still coated in shock, and of course, Arabella, free from chains apart from that bruise across her face, smirked, twirling on the stick to her lollipop. "No! Is this some kind of joke?! Where did Esmeralda get a mutilated hand in the first place?!" "The lions." Arabella replied calmly, "do you like our lions?" she sticks a hand through the bars and lets Lucia gnaw on it lovingly. My insides turned into a wet t-shirt, twisted to be dried. "There's a hand in the bucket." Who'd blame me for feeling uneasy? "There is?" Arabella's face lit up; she gracefully leans over and bobs her head inside the bucket, returning back up with the hand in her teeth. I turn to gag. "D'you need it?" She examines it proudly. "N-no..?!" "Man up, Dave, it's made out of rubber." She squishes it. Sour cherry blood guzzles from the wrist and onto Arabella's. "No...it's not...!" "Oh don't be weird." She licks it off, mimicking the lions, tracing her lips with her tongue to ensure no drop was lost, "it's only a prop. It's food coloring and water." She waved it around to prove it wasn't real, but it only proved that it wasn't alive. At least. "See you round', Dave." She smirks, jerking it around by a finger as she walked past me. I could hear the bones crack under its dead skin. And yet she skipped ahead so gracefully, as if they were PopRocks, walking next to her. As usual, I watched as she left; feeling only slightly guilty this time when the mist of the sunny morning devoured her. And the hand. Was it weird she wore a skull in her hair? I had to find Esmeralda. The hand must’ve been one of her tests. Or so I thought. I approached the food counter, knowing she’d be in the kitchen again doing a job that was way too cryptic for a newbie to know about; transporting the new props and designing new costumes. However, she wasn’t alone. Candice, who had clearly other things to do to Zeke, was in the kitchen with her. I climbed up the tree in front of the tent that guarded the entrance to the trailer park with its majestic branches; finally all those Summers I was caught chery-stealing paid off. It was the perfect place to watch the scene, because everyone forgot what it meant to be off stage. “What is this Candice?” Esmeralda had the hand Arabella retrieved earlier. She was thrusting it at a confused Candice, blood spluttering on her apron. “What do you mean?” she answered too confidently for Esmeralda to bear, “Zeke told me to take the last batch apart.” “What was it doing in the bucket of lion feed?” So I wasn’t the only one who thought that was weird. But Candice didn’t. “You think the lions don’t enjoy a crunch from time to time?” Candice smiles, setting the hand down on the counter, dissecting it with her knife. Esmeralda then yanks Candice from her position and holds her by the collar of her dress with clenched hands. She struggles, but Esmeralda is strong. In a voice too low for me to pick up, she says something to her, proceeding to let go of Candice with a push that almost caused her to fall on her knife. I couldn’t help but gasp. It echoes through the branches. Candice stands up like it’s no big deal and clocks Esmeralda across the face with the handle of her knife. “You ungrateful bitch! I don’t know why Zeke’s keeping you around here in the first place!” Esmeralda looks at the hand with a smug expression, which was just to indicate how weak Candice was. Not in front of her mirror,though, not how she saw herself. She pushed past the kitchen curtains in a fit of tears and anger. Candice had always struck me as the angel with horns; the sensible psychopath. God knows where she was headed this time. But by no means would I not admit she was no an interesting character; always dressing like she’s a six year old’s toy, not a responsible eighteen year old. She wasn’t responsible anyway. She even carried around a pink sippy cup, from which she’d be able to drink her sorrows away without the worry of losing her innocence. We locked eyes for a moment, but she didn’t see me. Her head of filthy blonde hair was a blur as she entered the trailer park, and disappeared inside Zeke’s trailer. She wasn’t gonna tattletale on Esmerlada. She never did. “Oh, shoot!” The rustling in the leaves above me was more than just the breeze. I heard a small thud as what looked like a voice recorder hit the grass beneath us. I sure haven’t seen one of those since kindergarten! Gosh, I’m old. Its falling was then accompanied by something more human; sobbing. “I’ll hang myself tomorrow,” the recorder fell on its play button. The speaker wasn’t muffled by the grass, “I’ll find some rope. The height of the trapeze would merely break my bones.” I stopped breathing. The girl beneath proceeded to hit her contraption several times until the cassette tape popped out and onto the grass. “Shut up, you dumb thing!” She whisper-shouts to it, “he’ll hear us and then find us here!” Was she talking about me? I’m the lion feeder, not the lion, afterall. I meant no harm. I carefully swung my way down to a lower branch, then landed in front of her. The light haired girl jumped back, clutching onto her recorder with dear #life. “Hold on, hold on,” I say as if I’m approaching some wild deer. Dave’s really got his thing with the ladies. Okay, that would be weird. She was older than me. Not much older though. She had pretty eyes too; green like Arabella’s only her’s were natural, “I’m not gonna hurt you. By no means was I trying to find you!” I laugh nervously. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! You scared the shenanigans outta me, kid!” She ruffles her already-messy undercut. “S-sorry…” I knew her from somewhere. I could have sworn I did. “Hey...are you that hooligan from the roach races?” She had a broken smile. Her chapped lips drew their own blood when they parted. “I think so…” I say, tucking a hand behind my head, “I’m not that much a hooligan though.” “Not at all. You’re a hero.” “Well that’s exaggerating in the other direction…” “You found Chakachip, stop being so humble.” “Chakachip?” “Arabella’s roach. She was happy. Are you not happy you made her happy?” She wipes her eyes. The sorrow was all taken away by Candice. “You know Arabella?” “Well, yeah. Don’t you?” She smirks, “I have a feelin’ she might know you a little too well…” “I’m Dave.” I chuckle, trying not to blush at the thought. “Bonnie.” She extends her hand to shake it, and I help her up instead. She brushes off the grass from her frilly outfit. Even the way she looked at me was graceful. “So...what do you do around here?” I ask stupidly, even though I knew she was one of the most awe-worthy trapeze artists I have ever seen. Remember, I memorized the show? Her stunts weren’t anything out of the ordinary, though. She was no contortionist or magician. But she was a swan on the tightrope. She flew like a feather between the two swings, skilfully flipping and tossing and turning...elegant, gentle. It was therapy to watch her perform. No wonder she was a soloist. “Oh you know, this and that. Tryna make sure my sister saves up some for food. Surley you’ve met her.” “Is it Arabella?” Bonnie tilts her head confused at the way I was following her answer. Because I wasn’t, actually, the selfish Helter Skelter caught my eye again. “Ezzie,” she corrects me slowly, “Esmeralda, Mrs.Spears, whatever you will. She carries that whip for a living.” “Oh my gosh! She’s your sister? Why don’t you make her understand that it’s not good to waste money on plastic surgery!” I gasp. She rolls her eyes. “It’s a lost cause at this point, David.” “It’s Dave.” “Oh, so now you’re good with names?” “I...think so?” She smirks at me, not wanting to be intimidating or anything. “How do you know about Ezzie’s situation anyway? You’ve only been here for what, three days?” “I popped one of her breasts.” I blurt out to the grass my sneaker’s head had been plowing at. “What…?” She wasn’t shocked, mind that or disgusted. She was appalled. Angry. “Did you sleep with her?!” “No! No, not in that sense. It wasn an aci-” “Listen Davis,” she takes a step towards me, lowering her voice in case her tears started flying out of control. “It’s Dave.” “Dave, I have nothing against you and Ezzie...you know, coupling. But she must agree with it.” What was she talking about? “Bonnie,” I push her gently to a distance that didn’t violate my personal space with her unhygienic mouth, “she forgot to put out the lion feed for me this morning and so I went to look for her. She was carrying a large stack of boxes with sowing materials for props and costumes. Now, I’ll still admit it was my fault because I was too dumb to realize she didn’t actually see where she was going and we sort of collided there. A pin mistook her inflated chest for a pincushion and...yeah, it was pretty messy.” “No wonder I haven’t seen her at all this morning.” She sighs, playing with the tool hem of her outfit. “Actually, she was just in the kitchen...I wasn’t spying on her or anything. Not exactly sure what she was doing in there, but she was pretty upset with Candice about finding some hand prop in the lion feed.” “Hand prop…?” “Yeah, right? It sure didn’t look like a prop to me, but Arabella wasn’t even fazed by it. She said the blood it oozed was just some food coloring and water.” “Yeah, of course.” “Not sure why Esmeralda made such a big deal out of it. It got pretty heated in there.” “That’s odd.” “Hey, what’s the deal between Esmeralda and Zeke anyway?” “Why do you wanna know all this stuff anyway?” She clicks her tongue. Touche. People here were good. “Oh you know, just cuz’. Might help me fit in.” I waggle my eyebrows, all promising. “Listen newb, you can’t just walk in here and expecting all the answers to roll off of our tongues.” She said, matter of factly, with an attitude that I had not been expecting with someone of her mindset, “Wondering is not a right justification. If I were you and really wanted to find something out, I’d pursue my butt off.” “But what’s the deal with the helter skelter?!” I demand. “Deal? There’s no deal with the helter skelter.” She didn’t meet my eyes, “I think you’d be on the right track without my assistance.” I sigh to the sky, not sure if hoping that it has the answers I’m looking for was a dumb thing to do or not. And then, my memory decides to work again. “Are you okay?” “I’m fine. Why?” Her lie made me wince. But what would you expect from someone with a profession that makes them pretend they are something they’re not for the sake of the entertainment of the masses. “What’s with that?” I just my chin to the audio recorder which was still safe in her hand. “Oh...this?” She holds it up in a vulnerable way, wincing as she does so. She probably expected me to clock her right then and there. To seize it and make fun of her thoughts. To abuse her for my own pleasure. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks. “It’s my diary.” “Don’t you usually write in a diary?” I follow her back up the branches of the tree and sit beside her. “Yeah, if you know how to read and write.” She said softly, the attitude from before draining by the gray cloud that hung over her head. “Circus kids aren’t taught to do stuff like that. Especially if you’re born and raised on one.” “That’s kinda neat if you ask me,” I smile even though inside I was cringing, “I’ve never considered how awesome circus blood would be.” “Yeah. My family moved around from circus to circus, never really seeming to settle. My mom used to be a lion tamer, just like Esmeralda.” “Is she here now?” “No,” she whimpered, “But I’m glad she’s not. She would have hated to see me as a trapeze artist.” “Why did you and Esmeralda pick this place to stay, though? You sound like you’ve been here for a while.” “A while and a half,” she laughs half-heartedly, “the world was an oyster called Esmeralda’s fairytale, and we all just lived in her overwhelming romance with Zeke.” I tried not to gag. Zeke was just the most gag worthy character you could find on the fairgrounds. Every time I heard th