The Hooker and the Hermit

 

I felt a small stirring of pride that I’d already completed number one several weeks ago before college let out for the summer. Henry was the son of one of my mother’s business associates and had been enrolled in the same course as me. Mum set us up on a date during my second year of studying and we’d been conducting a dull, chemistry-free relationship for the last two years. Quite like the subject we were studying, the sex was all business. So, I’d decided it was finally time to put an end to it. Mum was furious when she found out, and I could tell she was already plotting a way in which to get us back together.

 

It wasn’t going to happen.

 

As I went to change out of my work clothes, the flyer for the circus slipped from my pocket. I picked it up and read the little section at the back that gave a snippet of its history. Apparently, the Circus Spektakul?r was thirty years old and originally set up by a German named Konrad Eichel. When he died seven years ago, Marina Mitchell, who had previously been the circus’s fortune teller, took over as ringmaster. The circus was held not in a traditional circus tent, but in a Spiegeltent, which was a large, colourful structure dating from the late 19th century made from canvas and wood. Apparently, there were only a small number of Spiegeltents left in the world, which made the Circus Spektakul?r something of a rare experience.

 

Already I was imagining what it might look like so that I could paint it.

 

Hurriedly, I pulled on a light summer dress and some boots, grabbed my coat and snuck out of the house as quietly as I could manage. A little rush of excitement ran through me when I got around the corner and speed walked toward the edge of town. I could see lights flashing up into the sky as I got closer, could hear distant music.

 

When I reached the usually vacant field where the circus was being held, I had to dodge some bits of mud where the grass had been trodden on too frequently. Old vaudevillian piano music played from speakers that had been set up all around, making you feel as though you were stepping through a portal back in time. I nodded hello to a few families I knew from town and stepped in line to buy a ticket. After I paid, I went to a stand that was selling popcorn and candyfloss. A girl with short brown hair wearing a t-shirt with a cat’s face on it smiled at me and asked what I’d like. I bought some popcorn in a paper cone and made my way inside the Spiegeltent.

 

On the outside, it was a circular structure with a dome-like roof and was painted in red, blue, and yellow. The primary colours. Mix red with yellow and you get orange. Mix red and blue and you get purple. Mix blue and yellow and you get green. I had always been interested in the very simple science of it all.

 

When I was painting, sometimes I liked to mix random colours together to see what would happen. Often I’d discover a wonderful new shade of pink or purple, other times I’d discover that mixing too many colours just gave you an ugly brown or grey.

 

I thought maybe that was a good philosophy for life. Experiment with your colours, but don’t experiment too much or you’ll destroy the natural beauty.

 

It’s like that saying – too many cooks spoil the broth.

 

The inside of the tent was circular in shape. The stage was a sturdy round platform in the centre with the seating surrounding it. Red and blue stripes lined the ceiling and gathered up towards the dome of the roof. I’d never been anywhere like this before and I was fascinated.

 

Sitting down on a seat three rows from the stage, I munched on my popcorn and waited for the place to fill up. Children’s excited laughter rang out over the chattering of adults and the vaudeville piano. I heard more mature giggling then, and turned my head to the side to see Delia and three of her friends looking in my direction. So much for her not wanting to go to the circus.

 

Obviously, they were mocking the fact that I was there alone. My mouth formed a straight line as my gut sank. I felt a momentary flicker of self-consciousness. Was it weird to go to stuff like this on your own? All around me people seemed to be in groups of family or friends. Perhaps it was weird. Still, my resolve hardened. Delia really wasn’t my friend at all, was she? I needed to add an eleventh item to my list.

 

Unfriend Delia.

 

I pretended I was unaware of their mocking and focused my attention straight ahead. After a few minutes I was almost out of popcorn and the lights started to dim. I immediately recognised Marina’s voice as she announced over the speakers that the show was about to begin. Then a drumroll started up as she walked out onto the stage wearing a top hat, a red coat with tails that matched her hair, tight black trousers, boots, and her trademark assortment of necklaces. Her lipstick was bright pink and her eyes were lined with silver and gold eye shadow. However, the most interesting thing about her was that there was a little capuchin monkey sitting on her shoulder.

 

A monkey!

 

He had cream coloured fur on his head and brown fur on his body, and when he jumped off Marina’s shoulder and headed towards the audience I heard a number of children squeal with delight.

 

“Welcome everyone to the Spiegeltent and the Circus Spektakul?r! My name is Marina Mitchell and I’ll be your master of ceremonies for the evening. The little guy currently running amok amid the audience is Pierre, my trusty capuchin sidekick. Please keep an eye on your belongings, he has habit for taking shiny things that don’t belong to him,” she paused to wink at a boy in the front row. “We are a small, independent circus and pride ourselves on giving audiences a unique and magical experience. We have been travelling around Europe, Ireland and the UK for the past thirty years. Tonight you will see wonders to delight, astound and thrill. You will see men tame beasts. You will see women dance in the sky. You will see bodies accomplish impossible feats. And yes, you will laugh until your bellies ache as our clowns act out the comical and ridiculous. But first, I give you our Elephant Men, Jan and Ricky.”

 

Applause rang out as Marina took a bow, clapped her hands and Pierre came running to climb back onto her shoulder. A moment later two short men with dark hair walked out onto the stage. They were bare chested and wore matching silk trousers with intricate designs. When one of them made a small gesture, two elephants came trotting out. I smiled widely, my eyes going big as I stared at the magnificent creatures. Playful music came on, “Pink Elephants on Parade” from Dumbo. They marched around the stage in a circle, lifting their legs gracefully when prompted or throwing their trunks high into the air.

 

During the act the men led the elephants to go up on their hind legs and at one point, Jan I think it was, climbed up onto one elephant and sat on its back. Once their act was over Marina was back out, introducing the Ladies of the Sky, three red haired acrobats who I thought must be sisters they resembled one another so closely.

 

They hung from silky coloured ribbons, twisting, twirling and diving. My hands itched for a paintbrush as the colours swirled above me. I could have sat there for hours detailing the orange glow of their hair and the lithe, graceful movements of their limbs. I was certain that my Gran, who had been the one who first taught me how to paint, would have loved to be here right now. Unfortunately, she died when I was ten, but I always remembered her teachings, always tried to live by her philosophies that were so opposite to my mother’s.

 

Make mistakes, Lille. Walk on the cracks. Break the rules that were made to be broken.

 

L.H. Cosway & Penny Reid's books