by Tara Ellis
Timsley sat alone in his hotel suite with an ice pack resting on his balls. He was grumbling under his breath staring at the ceiling. By now his ego was totally shot. He was rejected by a younger woman, and then she kicked his ass. In his mind that bitch had to go. He started to contemplate ways for her to get fired.
A sex scandal was going to damage the family friendly image the circus had. He could imagine her sad face on people magazine, followed by his picture with bold red letters. “Attacker.” “Rapist.” “Predator.”
“I’m not going to let that happen,” he thought while rocking like a disturbed child. He had the power to fire her, but he figured she would then go to his higher up. Artemis.
“No, No, No. Go to Artemis first,” he murmured. “I will tell what happened in the bathroom. Say how it was all her fault. Wait, I’ll tell Artemis she came on to me. Yes that seems like the best shot I have.”
His word had more weight than Vanessa in the circus. He wasn’t going to tell Artemis the truth. The truth was likely to damage Artemis’s reputation as well. He wouldn’t allow this young harlot to make his best friend look bad. A harlot who was a sweet image for his eyes; the definition of eye candy, he just wanted to taste her insides but she was selfish.
“Who do you think you are, you stupid bitch! I’m the pussy slayer!” A few empty bottles of Guinness clanked on the floor after being knocked over in anger. His knuckles white, chest heaving, he told himself to calm down, put on a bold face and lie like your life depended on it.
A few moments later there was a knock on Artemis’s hotel door. He answered. Timsley said “You’re going to need a new theater technician.”
And at that Artemis replied “Aww shit!”
Sometime in the middle of that night Joyce and Andre were putting fancies into one another’s ear. Their cast mates were all catching up with the sand man for good dreams. But these two were lying together on the hotel bed giggling and flirting like adolescents.
At one point a promo for the circus went by the television. It showed Ring Master with his wife. Andre asked if she had ever seen Artemis kiss his Natalie.
“No. Why would you ask me that?”
“Well he kinda goes like this.” He kissed the back of her palm.
Joyce smiled as he left a trail of kisses on her forearm, in the crook of her elbow, up her bicep; his lips touched the warmth of her neck and lastly to her cheek. Her skin was so sweet it made him smack his lips.
“That was the best excuse anyone has ever used to steal a kiss from me.”
“Really? Well allow me to take another.”
They paused in each other gazes; his green eyes focused on her brown ones.
“What are you waiting for?” she said. He pressed his thin lips against hers and felt the plumpness black girls are known for. Her lips enveloped his during the kiss. That made the animal burst inside Andre. He poured all his affection onto her. Joyce willfully succumbed to this young man’s embrace. Joyce felt a sensation so great and unique the word wasn’t yet in her vocabulary. She hadn’t been a virgin for years, but this experience was her first time feeling the deliverance of her own lust. She knew her sexuality was let free, she knew this when she told him “I have a condom.”
Artemis threw his hands in the air screaming “Why is this shit so fucking difficult!?!” He then went on to say “I don’t get you Timsley. At first I thought you were trying to get her.”
“I was, at first,” he said, with an emphasis on the ‘at first’. “But ever since we caught her with that animal handler, I’ve been hearing that she passes her muff around like turkeys they hand out for thanksgiving.”
Timsley had gone on to tell Artemis his bogus reasons to let go of Vanessa. He suggested that Artemis do the firing, because he knew there would be no one else for her to go to. Artemis reluctantly agreed. “I’ll do it before we depart. She already gotten a set routine with my artists.”
“What?” replied Timsley. “She has a set routine? With who?”
“With Joyce. And I think a few others.” Artemis scratched the back of his neck. “I don’t want to throw Joyce off her game. That little star is going to keep my wallet full.” He approached a window that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. To him, his reflection seemed to be glaring right back. “It’s the qualities like Joyce’s that will keep this circus, my legacy, going after I am gone.”
“What do you mean?”
“This circus needs more than talent, more than good looks, I need stars. Genuine stars. As long as I have been in the business of entertainment I can tell which entertainers will last long and who will be thrown in the garbage can of history. You should know, you’ve seen this too. It’s the way they move in a room. They have an uncanny ability to steal people’s attention. They have a rare gift of persuasion over their peers. I’m looking for personality….”
“Artemis,” Timsley said, cutting him off.
“What?”
“That’s not what I’m trying to ask you. What do you mean after you’re gone?”
“Timsley I’m getting old. I look it, I feel it. What I can get, or what I am at least hoping for is an image, a persona that is just as defining as I was. I see that in Joyce, she has that.”
“Why not Britney?”
“Britney is fantastic, on the scenes and off. But the audience would never accept her in my shoes.” Timsley cleared his throat.
“What about your red-headed step child?”
“Are you serious? The brand would run into the ground with her in charge. Scarlett has issues with her anger she hasn’t yet been able to control.”
Natalie then walked into the room wearing only a Dolly Parton shirt, watching two old men engaged in conversation.
“I’m sorry babe did we wake you?” asked Artemis.
“I woken up to you shoutin’ cursin’. Is everthing all right’?
“Oh yeah I’m just having a talk with Tim here.”
Timsley’s eyes were preoccupied on the pink panties that were peeking out from under her shirt.
“Go back to bed babe I will be there in a moment.” And she did just that.
“Ok,” said Artemis. “What were we talking about again?”
“Your artists.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“You seem to fancy this girl Joyce. I know she is charming and the media adores her but can she live up to your talent?”
“Talent?” He smirked. “I wouldn’t even flattery myself with that one.”
“So you don’t consider yourself talented?” said Timsley confused.
“I consider myself skillful.” The confusion stayed on his friends face. “Let me break it down for you. I have skill. Scarlett has talent. Joyce has a gift.” Timsley stood out of his chair and stretched his limbs around.
“So you want this girl to take over for you, after you’re done?”
Artemis took one long breath in. “I don’t know yet.”
“Artemis you don’t have any fools on your tour. This is the last season on the contract and we have several shows still left for the year. I’m hoping I won’t have to look for a new job at the end of it.”
Artemis took one long breath in. Then Artemis told Timsley something he didn’t want to hear.
Lunch
