It was on a bright, starry night that the traveling circus rolled into town. Sleepy people on a sleepy street stood on shabby porches and watched the procession — gawkers with eyes full of contented blindness while they let one small corner of Kentucky be transformed. Brilliant lights flared and flashed like a fleet of fire engines, casting frightful shadows across the desolate fairgrounds.
From a vacant lot down the dusty road, Sara surveyed the activity through eyes full of loneliness. A searing summer wind blew back her unkempt hair, but there was no inferno to account for the faint aroma of smoke on the air. She watched as doors along the street were closed and locked tight in denial of this intrusion into their perfect, peaceful world.
Only when all the shutters were securely drawn, and there was certainty that no one would see, did the young girl take her first tentative steps toward the spectacle.
Drifting aimlessly through a mass of trucks, tents, and trailers, Sara stared about in apathetic awe, as if she knew her world was changed, but could not bring herself to care. Coiled power cables cluttered the ground, reminiscent of firehoses being yanked this way and that in a desperate effort to snuff out the embers of every child’s dream. She stepped over these snares and followed the sticky scent of cotton candy; it brought memories of the treats Mama would give to reward her big-girl bravery after one of the really bad nights.
The sweet smell mingled with that of empty liquor bottles as she passed a trashcan; she recognized the black label as the poison to her innocence. Sara violently vomited up what remained of the scraps she had found last night.
She regained her composure and moved swiftly away from the offensive fragrances of her past. A guttural growl attracted her attention and enticed her around a large trailer and into the menagerie. Sara meandered among caged predators with a sense of homecoming she had not felt in a month — since she had had enough. She approached a heavily muscled, majestic tiger without fear and extended a tiny hand through steel bars meant to protect her. The graceful cat advanced leisurely, sending powerful ripples through shimmering orange fur, giving the appearance of living flames bearing down on her. Instead of bared teeth, a sandpaperish tongue passed lightly over her open palm to provide her first affectionate contact since the death of her father two years ago. Maybe the beast sensed a kindred soul trapped in a cage of her own, or maybe there was no more sport in killing prey whose spirit was already extinguished — she hadn’t always had bars to protect her.
“Hey now,” came a gentle voice behind her, “be a good girl and come over here.”
Sara knew well the pain that came from disobeying a man’s orders; she withdrew her hand slowly. Turning to face the speaker, her heart began to race. The man was tall and thin, and smiling warmly at her. His casual clothes were clean and respectable.
He looked just like Mama’s boyfriend, except no lust burned in this stranger’s eyes.
Still, Sara ran, stumbled over serpentine cords, and ran some more. The snarl of exhibits closed in from all sides like billows of smoke filling the chambers of hell to prevent her escape. Blazing around a blind corner she collided with a clown in a garish frock, her face grotesquely painted like the bright-lipped social worker with the platitudes and accusing eyes. Dirt had replaced soot on her face this time, but again the grimy child darted into the darkness before she could be grabbed.
Some time later, Sara returned to the lot and spied on the circus from the security of where her porch used to be. One by one the lights winked out and stillness descended on the fairgrounds again. Sleep returned to a town with no interest in being awake. In a few hours the neighbors would rise and begin their days, pointedly ignoring the remains of the charred house at the end of the block — just as for years they ignored the smoldering lies that foreshadowed the burning lives of those who lived there.
A solitary flame came alive in Sara’s hand; her last match. For a long moment she gazed lovingly at a singed photograph of two radiant parents and a smiling little girl: a family that died with the father’s cancer, then was damned by the mother’s denial. As tears began to fall, she touched the flame to her likeness and finished burning away her past. She had reduced her entire life to the ash under her feet.
She let her final fire burn unattended, melted away in the shadowy woods at the edge of the lot, and was gone. Only an empty matchbox at the edge of the train tracks marked her passage into blessed oblivion.
Innocence died, and a young girl cried, all on a bright, starry night.
Jason Michelsen is originally from Detroit, Michigan, but has lived in a number of states and countries around the world. He has a wide variety of life experiences that inspire his writing.
GD Star Rating
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15 Responses to “CIRCUS • by Jason Michelsen”
Comments
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January 28th, 2012 at 1:39 am
Haunting. I loved the ‘drifting aimlessly’ which made me wonder if we were seeing a ghost, and then realised we were seeing a ‘living ghost’. Powerful. Felt it could have been cut a little – some images a touch overwritten for my taste, but the sadness will stay with me.
January 28th, 2012 at 4:06 am
I’m sorry to be harsh, but the writing is too flowery for me. I think all the similes and adjectives and adverbs obscure the story rather than enhance it.
January 28th, 2012 at 8:43 am
Could have used a little editing, but the story is disturbing as the author intended. Four stars from me.
January 28th, 2012 at 9:07 am
Very well done. Haunting and sorrowful. The tone and descriptins were spot on and led us through the dreary life of a child neglected.
January 28th, 2012 at 9:10 am
I liked this a lot. It seemed like the protaganist knew how to handle big cats well. I think she was a circus performer too.
Great job at potraying her emotions. Four stars.
January 28th, 2012 at 1:25 pm
There are some nice images and sensory details here but overall it’s overwritten for my taste. E.g.:
“The sweet smell mingled with that of empty liquor bottles as she passed a trashcan; she recognized the black label as the poison to her innocence.”
The second half reads a bit pretentious.
January 28th, 2012 at 2:26 pm
sad to say, i go along with the “over-written” comments. the sense of the girl’s loneliness came through very nicely but i had to push aside too many words to be as affected by it as i would have liked.
January 28th, 2012 at 3:31 pm
Difficult one to comment on.
The ‘It was a dark, stormy night’-type beginning didn’t help; neither did the over-abundance of adjectives.
That said, ‘the sticky scent of cotton candy’ will stay with me.
January 28th, 2012 at 4:47 pm
‘way too many words on this one.
January 29th, 2012 at 3:43 am
I liked the sandpaperish tiger’s tongue.
I didn’t think the section about the hoses on the floor worked.
I don’t know why she couldn’t do the whole thing in one visit.
I can’t see why neighbours would ignore a charred house.
I didn’t get the reference to innocenence and oblivion.
entertaining. thank you.
January 29th, 2012 at 3:54 am
I liked the central idea, but I’m with the others who found the words got in the way of the story. The descriptive imagery was too ornate, too overwhelming, for my taste. Sorry.
January 30th, 2012 at 5:14 am
I too can’t stay away from the material presented in a traveling circus. Very rich background to set this story. I loved the reference to The Little Match Girl at the end. The allusions to the tragic backstory were subtle enough but collided with the heavy-handed use of adverbs. Keep with the understatedness and you will have a very successful story.
January 30th, 2012 at 5:19 am
I’ve never actually seen the “it was a dark and stormy night” intro in use before. I’m afraid it cast a humorous tint over the entire story that obviously wasn’t meant to be there.
January 30th, 2012 at 8:01 pm
Tragic. Haunting. And so, so sad. Not the things we typically associate with the circus….
February 14th, 2012 at 12:58 am
I loved this story. Definately the best one I’ve read so far. Maybe a little bit too discriptive but this doesn’t detract from the main story.
brilliant.