by Tara Ellis
Mr Sebring strutted towards the middle of the arena cracking his whip. He gave it a stylistic twirl and then cracked it in front of Solomon. The great beast bellowed like a V8 engine. Any reasonable human would have lost their bowels in front of Solomon. But Artemis stood strong. “On guard,” he shouted. The beast was defiant; it sprang its legs back ready to pounce. Artemis cracked the whip inches from its face. He exposed those spikes in Solomon’s cavernous mouth. It kept one paw raised, swiping at Artemis when in range.
The crowd’s excitement went to new heights watching this food chain defiant act. Man versus beast.
Solomon leapt towards the ringmaster but he bent down in the nick of time. The lion missed his victim landing on a podium. Artemis went behind Solomon snapping his whip, sending the creature through a hoop onto another podium. The crowd burst with amazement. The hoop was lit on fire. The gasping crowd sucked the air out of the arena. The ringmaster commanded the beast to leap through the ring of fire. It passed gracefully without singeing a hair.
Britney came about in a blue sequenced mini dress. Artemis watched her humps bobbing up and down with each step. Her curves danced in the dress, like bunnies playing under bed sheets. She strapped a leash on Solomon and led him off stage. The audience started again. “Hold you applause,” said the ring master. “I’m not finished.”
“For my next trick, I will need my little assistant Maggie.” Before she was even seen by the crowd she belted like a dozen out of tune trombones. Maggie practically waltzed in. All 3300 pounds of her. She sounded off her horn once again as she stopped in front of the ringmaster. Britney came in riding on top of the creature. She switched outfits; her new getup was attired in feathers.
He gave a wink to the beast as if it could understand him. Maybe it did. He was known to have an eccentric relationship with all his pets. The whip whistled as he twirled it before slashing at Maggie’s feet. The audience became astounded by the sight of an elephant supporting itself on its hind legs. The cheers grew as she walked on two legs for a few yards and then landed on all fours. Britney let out a hoot as the creature was in motion. She opened her mouth anticipating a treat. He wagged his finger and her trunk went down. “Ah ah ahh. Not yet my little friend,” he spoke in boisterous voice. He covered the microphone around his face and told Maggie “One more and we are home free.”
The whip cracked. Maggie then started to shuffle forward. And she propped herself on her front legs. Her hide was suspended over the ground with her back feet swaying ineptly. The crowd had lost its breath. All the ring master could see was dropped jaws in the audience. The beast held her position for about half a minute, her legs then wobbled and she came down soon after.
The ring master took off the top hat, twirled his wrist, stepped forward and took a bow in one sweeping motion. He had popped the audiences cherry.
Intermission.
Accordion music plays. Lights went on. An auburn haired starlet walked until she came to a table. Moving elegant and yet sullen as if the crowd was not a factor. The table had a lit lamp, an unlit torch, a rag and a silver chalice. Her waist came to the table, she was very petite but she carried a large aura. An aura that held the audience, even before the showcasing of her abilities took place.
She picked up her torch, dipped it in oil at the base of the lamp then lit at the top. She picked up her chalice and poured a liquid in her mouth. Held the torch above her head and spat a flame five meters into the air. They leapt from their seats, showering her with praises, chanting her name. “Scarlett! Scarlett! Scarlett!” She pointed her torch to the side of her and spit out the remaining solution, hurling a fireball to the floor. A haze began to engulf around her. She whipped a fan and fluttered about so she wouldn’t be overwhelmed. With the air clear she took a deep breath, then poured the liquid from the chalice into her mouth. She held the torch right in front of her and Scarlet became a real flamethrower, a human torch. She held the inferno for ten seconds, blowing everything out of her lungs. She took in another breath through the nose and spat out the remaining fuel lingering in her mouth. The spit crossed the flame on her torch and the saliva burst on impact.
Scarlett was Natalie Sebring’s only child from her first marriage. At this point she was seventeen years old and already captivating crowds. She was even one of her step father headliners. He really used her to fill the seats. He tried to develop a stage personality for her, but she wouldn’t take to it. She desired to be her own person and Artemis left it at that. She still had a baby face that seemingly gave her a warm sweetness, but the ability she obtained gave her power.
She surged blazes from her mouth for another ten minutes. She wiped her lips. She gargled water to dissolve the rest of any compound left in her mouth. Scarlett bent over backwards in a crab position, held it there with one arm. She put the head of the burning torch in her mouth and the hellfire was over. She came up and did a curtsy. The human torch set the crowd on fire.
Lights off. Darkness took her away.
Drum roll.
A beam of light shone on Joyce high above in the rafters.
“Ladies and Gentlemen!” exuberated the Ring Master. “This moment we’re all encompassed in, is getting interesting.” That phrase had been building in his head for some time; that was his first attempt using it at work. “The little darling high above you all is our latest recruit. Let’s give Joyce a round of applause here people.”
The crowd was generous.
“Joyce will attempt a death defying act of courage all for your entertainment!” She then blew a few kisses to the audience and a hundred hands went up to catch them. “She will walk a hundred feet on a cord that is as wide as a quarter. Without the safety of a drop net!” She puts her hand to her mouth and widens her eyes showing a mockery of concern. “Please, for her sake remain as quite as possible until she reaches the platform across.”
With the crowd silent the drum roll became more pronounced. She dabbed the cord with her foot reminiscent of a child testing pool water. Her foot found the correct position. She added weight to it. It seemed as if she was deciding whether or not to continue as she completely put her full weight on the cord. She wobbled just a little. Faces became uneasy in the audiences. But she paid no attention; she really couldn’t afford it any way. She focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Left right left right left right. When she made it halfway a loud sneeze came from the stands, which got a few chuckles. Joyce wobbled, and the place fell dead quite once again. Left right left right. Once her feet arrived at the platform the house was all hers. The masses roared with approval. She made it.
As the ring master segued off into a sketch with his featured clowns, Joyce had gotten down and went backstage. First thing she grabbed was a bottle of cold water. Britney was ecstatic of her debut success; displaying her affection with a bear hug that literally swept the girl off her feet and a big kiss that left its red imprint. Scarlett passed in their mist, “Great job,” she said. “For a newbie.” Scarlett filled that comment with as much animosity as a competitive attitude could.
Joyce looked at Britney, Britney gave her another kiss. “Don’t let that sweet face fool you,” she said. “She is a loathsome little girl.”
Artemis made his way backstage, aiming straight for his dressing room to dig in his nose candy. He zoomed right passed jugglers, clowns and other acts anticipating their time in the spotlight. Joyce perked herself up waiting for some display of appreciation from Artemis, like a child in wanting of a father’s approval. He passed her.
The dressing room door slammed shut behind him. When he had the feel he was to himself he shook like a wet dog. For him that was a way to deviate stress. He got his powder candy ready. Something stopped him before he could take it in. He spotted the reflection of a walking cane in his mirror, lying against the back wall. He glanced over the shoulder it didn’t exist in his vision. He turned
back and the cane wasn’t there. He thought he was seeing things.
This time he had bought his dope from a dealer who put it in containers that resembled pixie sticks. How clever. That way he could have the perfect camouflage and the right amount in a dosage. He snorted half a stick, just to bump him for the rest of the night. For a minute he watched his pupils enlarge in the mirror. He spent a few moments making faces. And then he slapped himself literally back into reality. He straightened his bow tie, wiped the sweat off his face. It wasn’t from the junk, but from getting hot during the performance. He switched his top hat back in place and….
The wooden brown walking cane had returned in his peripheral vision. He saw the cane stand itself straight up from the wall. He didn’t dare look back this time. He knew it was the dope playing games with him. Or maybe the old man he held inside himself was trying to send a message. The cane had completely fallen over landing with a hard snap. He jumped from his seat. He heard it. It was real. He looked on the ground behind him. Nothing. But it was real. He knew it was. He wasn’t going to right himself off as crazy. The old man was trying to send a message. He looked back in the mirror to see if it would do it again. He didn’t see the cane. He was so focused on the cane he didn’t realize at first that his reflection wasn’t there. He waved his arms, expecting to see himself reappear. A funny thought had crept into his delusional mind “Maybe the mirror stopped working. Wait mirrors don’t stop working unless they’re broken. Well a mirror technically does stop working as they’re in a dark room. Artemis hold it together your slipping. Focus, focus, focus.”
He misjudged how powerful his new candies were. He headed back out the door, took one final peak at the mirror to see himself and all it showed was the old man looking back. He shut the door and paused. He was trying to keep it all together. He couldn’t afford time, not with a show he had to run. He saw Joyce’s peers giving her beginner’s congrats. So he went up and offered his. He took her hand before she could look his way. Kissed the back of her hand and said “you were brilliant my little darling, keep it up.”
He waltzed back on stage. On with the show.
The entertainers performed until the stroke of midnight when Artemis did his closing number. It was a closer that was filled with singing, dancing and acrobatics, fun for all. The audience then went on home. But the VIP ticket holders who purchased hundreds more for seating had the opportunity to go backstage; meet with the entertainers, get autographs and have their picture taken with their favorite performer. VIP tickets really put a nice chunk of change in Artemis’s business.
The entertainers went to their hotel rooms to rest their minds and spirits because tomorrow they were headed to a new city to start all over again. Artemis checked in with his visual editors to see the footage of his three day stay in Detroit. The footage included the ring master venturing through the city mingling with the locals and other various clips leading up to opening night. “I can’t wait for this episode to air,” he said. “It’s going to be a good one.”
Departure
