by Collen Houck
I chose to keep only two pictures with me. One picture was of the three of us,me, mom, and dad , at a New Year’s celebration. I had just turned twelve. Mom wore a sparkling blue dress and dad a black suit with a blue tie to match it. I had on a pink dress that mom helped me pick out, especially for my first New Year’s Eve dance. They had been chaperones for it, which might have bothered most kids, but it didn’t bother me. I even danced with my dad.
The other picture I always kept near was a candid shot of my parents at their wedding. There was a beautiful water fountain in the background, and they looked so young and happy, smiling into each other’s eyes as they stood facing one another. I wanted that for myself someday. I wanted someone to look at me like that.
I changed into my pajamas, brushed my teeth, and washed my face. Then, crawling under my warm covers, I set my alarm for, ugh, 4:30 a.m. Placing my hands behind my head, I stared at the ceiling. My stomach growled. Flopping over on my stomach and stuffing my pillow under my cheek, I drifted off thinking about mom’s cookies.
CHAPTER 2
My alarm startled me out of a deep sleep at 4:30 in the morning. It would be warm outside today, but nottoo hot. Oregon almost never got too hot. An Oregon governor must have passed a law a long, long time ago that said Oregon, at least in the I-5 region, had to always have moderate temperatures. We had a lovely cloud cover almost every day, and today looked like it would be yet another overcast one.
It was dawn, but the sun still hadn’t climbed over the mountains. The sky was already brightening, changing the clouds to pink cotton candy in the eastern horizon. It must have drizzled rain last night because I could smell an appealing fragrance in the air: the scent of wet grass and pine mingled together.
The sun would be up for most of the day, as it always was, from about 5:00 a.m. to about 10:00 p.m., in the summer. In the winter, it was exactly the opposite, showing itself for only about seven or eight hours per day. Winter blues and overcast days affected many people here, but I actually liked being indoors with a book more than being outside in the sun anyway. So, I’d personally never suffered from seasonal affective disorder, but I knew several who did.It rains a lot in the Northwest, but Oregonians do have the benefit of extraordinarily gorgeous evergreen trees everywhere you look.
I hopped out of bed, turned on the shower, waited till the bathroom got good and steamy, and then jumped in.There’s nothing like hot water pounding your back to wake up sleepy muscles. Toweling my hair dry quickly, I brushed it out and weaved it into a French braid. When that was done, I twisted a rubber band around the tail and tied it with a blue ribbon. Next, I applied some lip gloss, and…voila, my primping was complete.
I grabbed a short-sleeved T-shirt and a good pair of work jeans and finished dressing. Slipping my feet into my tennis shoes, I bent over and yanked them up and over my heels. The last thing I grabbed was a long-sleeved T-shirt I could wear if I got cold or needed the sleeve protection.
I figured I wouldn’t need to bring much, just a couple of things to make me comfortable while I was staying there. Pulling out my trusty school backpack, which was now hollowed out and empty due to my quirky obsessive cleaning habits, I stuffed in some toiletries, three changes of clothes—I could always come back to do laundry—a book, my journal, some pens and pencils, my wallet, and the pictures of my family. Then I rolled up my quilt, stuffed it in the top, jiggled the zipper until it shut, and presto, all my things were securely contained.
I slung my backpack over my shoulder and headed downstairs. My foster parents were already awake and at the breakfast table. They woke up insanely early every day to gorunning. That was just too crazy for me. I mumbled, “Hey, good morning, guys.”
Michael, my foster dad, said, “Hey, good morning back. So, I heard you’re starting a new job today.”
“Yeah…it’s for that circus, the one that’s out at the fair-grounds. I get to sell tickets and pick up trash for two weeks. Great, huh?”
He chuckled. “Yep, sounds pretty great. Want a lift? I drive right past it on my way into town anyway.”
I hesitated. “Are you sure you want to head in to work that early? It’s only a mile and a half down the road. I was planning to walk.”
He dismissed my statement with a wave of his hand. “Nah, early in and early out means I can avoid the traffic. It’s no trouble at all to drop you off.” He winked at me.
He always joked about the Salem traffic. My foster parents used to live in Portland, and their commutes were terrible, sometimes up to two hours each way. Ever since he took a government job in Salem, he bragged to everyone about how short his commute was.
I smiled at him. “Sure…thanks, Mike. I’d love a ride,” I replied. He folded up his paper and started getting ready to go.
Sarah cleaned up his breakfast dishes and asked, “Will you need one of us to pick you up?”
“I’m not sure yet. I’ll call you later this afternoon and let you know. I think they’ll want me sleeping over
because I’ll be staying up late and getting up early.”
“Okay, just call if you need us to come get you.”
“I will.”
Michael started getting his briefcase items together, so I grabbed a granola bar and quickly forced myself to gulp down half a glass of their soy milk—I really have to contain my gag reflex with that stuff
—then grabbed my bag and headed out the door with Michael.
He dropped me off at the entrance to the fairgrounds, waved good-bye, and drove off toward the city. I turned around to look at the unpaved side road he’d dropped me at that led to the fair-grounds. A big, blue sign posted on the street advertised upcoming events. A large slick banner read: POLK COUNTY FAIRGROUNDS
Welcomes the
Circus Maurizio
featuring the Maurizio Acrobats
and the famous Dhiren!
I started walking down the gravel path toward the main building. The central complex looked like a large
airplane or military bunker. It had giant blue individually cut-out letters on it spellingPOLK FAIR . It was
painted white, except for the front doors, which were the same blue color as the sign. The paint was cracked and peeling in places, and the windows needed to be washed. A large American flag hung on a tall post near the front doors. It snapped and rolled in the breeze as the chain it was attached to clinked softly against the metal flagpole.
The fairground was an odd cluster of old buildings, a small parking lot, and a dirt path that wound between all the buildings and around the border of the grounds. It was also, of course, surrounded by the lush Oregon forest. The parking lot was used infrequently, so it had weeds growing up through the cracks
here and there, and the parking lines were faded. Off to the side was a concessions building. A couple of other buildings were available for rent to local clubs or community organizations.
Circus posters hung everywhere; there was at least one large poster on every building. Some featured acrobats—some had pictures of jugglers. I didn’t see any elephants and breathed a sigh of relief.If there had been elephants here, I would have smelled them already anyway. Then I spied an advertisement with
a picture of a white tiger.Cool! I thought.I wonder if they have just one white tiger or a couple of them.
I saw a pair of flatbed semitrucks parked alongside the building and several large white canvas tents set up behind those. Opening the door to the main building, I walked inside. The central hub had been converted into a one-ring circus. Tiers of faded red stadium chairs, the kind that could be pushed under one another, were stacked against the walls and would seat maybe two hundred spectators at most.
Covering the floor inside the ring was a black spongy material, the type they put in at children’s playgrounds now to prevent kids from hurting themselves. The ring consisted of cement blocks, like the kind they have in parking lots, except these were painted red.
On the right were two stands, one for selling hot dogs,
nachos, and other snacks, and another for popcorn and cotton candy. On the left was a table set up for making balloons and another booth that contained circus memorabilia. There were only two ways into the building: the audience way, which let you walk in and find your seat, or the back entrance, which was draped with a sheet of canvas that parted in the middle like a movie curtain. I bounced my way across the springy floor and went through the curtain.
Slipping through the panel, I saw a couple of people standing around chatting in a corner. A tall man, who looked like he was in charge, was standing to the side, writing on a clipboard, and inspecting boxes.
I made a beeline for the inventory guy, assuming he was the one I should talk to. Walking up to him, I said, “Hi, my name’s Kelsey, and I’m a temp who is supposed to report in at 6:00 a.m., but I’m not exactly sure who to report to.”
He looked me up and down while chewing on something, then spat on the floor. “Go around back, out those doors, and turn to your left. Go up to the black and silver motor home and knock on the door.”
“Thanks!” The tobacco spit disgusted me, but I managed to smile at him anyway. I made my way out the back door, found the motor home, and knocked on the door.
“Jus’ a minute,” a man’s voice yelled. The door opened unexpectedly fast, and I jumped back in surprise. A man towered over me and laughed heartily at my reaction. He was big and had a rotund potbelly. He had a head of black, curly hair that covered his scalp, the hairline ending just a little bit past where it should be. He reached up to shift his hairpiece and smiled. A thin black mustache stuck out straight from either side of his upper lip; both sides were waxed to thin points. He also had a tiny square goatee patch on his chin.
Crow’s feet surrounded his twinkling blue eyes. His skin was tan, which showed off his toothy, white smile. He looked happy, the kind of guy who always seems to be laughing at a private joke. In a booming theatrical voice, with a strong Italian accent, he said, “Hello! And who might you be?”
I smiled nervously. “Hi…umm, my name’s Kelsey, and I was hired to work here for a couple of weeks.”
He leaned over to grasp my hand. His large hand completely enfolded mine, and he shook it up and down enthusiastically enough to make my teeth rattle. “Ah…Fantastico! How propitious! Welcome to the Circus Maurizio! We are a little, how you say…short-handed, and need some assistenza while we are in your magnifico città, eh? Splendido to have you! Let us get started immediatamente.” He glanced over at a cute young blonde girl about fourteen years old who was walking by. “Cathleen, take this giovane donna…ah…Kelsey?” I nodded. “…to Matt and informare him…desideri irrealizzabili-that I wish him to work with her together. He’s incaricato…to teach her today.” He turned again to me. “Nice to meet you, Kelsey. I hope you piacere…ah, enjoy working here at our piccolo tenda di circo!”
I said, “Thanks, it was nice to meet you too.” He winked at me, then turned around, went back inside his motor home, and closed the door.
Cathleen smiled at me and said, “Come on, follow me.” I followed her around the back side of the building where all the white tents were. She asked, “Are you going to be sleeping here too?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“You can sleep in my tent if you want. There are a couple of extra cots in there. My mom, my aunt, and I all share a tent. My older brother sleeps in the boys’ tent. Our tent’s nice, if you can ignore all the costumes. All the girls make their costume changes in there. We can go ahead and put your stuff in there now before I take you to Matt, if you like.”
She led me into her tent and to a vacant cot. The tent was spacious. I stowed my backpack under the empty cot and looked around for a minute. She was right about the costumes. They were hanging everywhere, racks and racks of them. Lace, sparkles, feathers, and spandex covered every corner of the tent. There was also a lit mirrored table with makeup, hairbrushes, pins, and curlers strewn haphazardly over every square inch of the surface.
I asked, “So, where do you guys shower?”
“Usually, we shower after performances, the girls do anyway. We have to go in shifts, so the girls get it first, and the boys get to shower later. There’s a bathroom behind the main building with three showers divided by curtains. It’s not fancy, but it serves its purpose.”
We then found Matt, who was trying to set up a ticket stand by himself. Cathleen said, “Hi, Matt, can we help you?”
We both bent over to help him with the booth. It worked like a folding table—the bottom popped out and locked in place. The top was lifted on and set in the two holes on the front. It was heavy on the bottom so that it wouldn’t topple over.
Finishing the job, I dusted my hands on my jeans and looked at Matt. He had brown hair, an average short haircut, brown eyes, and a happy-go-lucky grin. He looked like he was about fourteen or fifteen.
“Hey, Matt,” I heard Cathleen say. I looked over at her. She was blushing.How cute .
“Um…this is Kelsey. She’s here while we’re in town, and you’re supposed to show her the ropes today.”
“No problem,” he replied. “See ya around, Cath.”
“See ya.” She smiled and flounced away.
“So, Kelsey, I guess you get to be my sidekick today, huh? Well, you’ll love it,” he said, teasing me.
“The first thing we have to do is get everything ready for our first show. We have a couple of buses of summer campers coming in today, ranging in ages from five to eight, which means a big cleanup afterward.”
“Okay, I’m ready to work.”
“Let’s get going, then,” he said.
I followed him to the back of the building that had all the boxes. “First thing we need to do is take all these boxes and distribute them to the concession areas. Just look on the outside to figure out where they go. If you can’t, then just ask me.”
I picked up the first one. The label read “Hot Dog Buns.” I hauled it over to the hot dog stand, then went back to get another box. It said “Neon Necklaces.” I took that one to the memorabilia stand. I went back and forth until we were done, which took about an hour. Matt brought over bottled water, and we sat down to rest for a minute.
He said, “Okay, we got an hour until the first show. You’re going to sell tickets while I sell balloons.
The
ticket prices are on the sign. Campers get half price today. Other people, if they bring in the coupon, get one kid ticket free per adult purchase. I’ll give you a lockbox to keep the cash in. We don’t take checks or credit cards, strictly cash only, but there’s an ATM machine in the other building across the way.
After
the show has been running for about twenty minutes, lock up the box and bring it in to me. Then, we can sit and watch the show until intermission when you can come and help me sell balloons. Any questions?”
“Nope. I can’t think of any.”
“Good, oh, and don’t forget to go change into your costume.”
“Costume?” I gulped.
“Yep, Cath will show you where they are. Don’t worry! You don’t have to be a clown or anything. It’s just a costume to show that you are a circus employee. No biggie.”
He sucked down the rest of his water and took off, leaving me sitting on a box by myself. I finished my water, put the bottle in the recycle bin, and headed to my tent.
Cathleen was with her mom and her aunt, who sat at the mirrored table applying makeup. “Hey, Cathleen,” I said. “I need to change into a costume of some kind. Do you know where it is?” She got up and walked over to a tall costume rack, which was really just a portable metal rod, and pulled out three different costumes.
“I don’t know which size will fit you, but you can try any of these.”
The “costumes” she put on my cot were all just jumpsuits with glittering bias tape stitched onto the outside seams. The sparkles ran down the length of the legs, arms, and around the cuffs, at the ankles and wrists. I picked up the blue one with the red glitter and
stepped behind a changing screen to try it on.
It was a little too tight in the bust area, not that I had a great bust or anything.
“Hey, Cathleen, can you throw me the red one?”
She picked up the red one, pulled it off the hangar, and tossed it over the screen. This one had yellow, glittery bias tape and was a little baggy in the seat, but it was much more comfortable.
I walked out to the ticket booth and saw that Matt had put up the price board. He was waiting for me with the lock box and a ring of tickets. He had also brought me lunch: a turkey sandwich, a bag of chips, an apple, and a soda.
“Chow down quick because the kids are on their way.”
I had eaten half of my sandwich and chips when the first bus pulled in. I stowed the rest on the little shelf
under the booth counter, covering my sandwich with a napkin.
The vehicle circled around in the parking lot. Finally, the driver stomped on the squeaky brakes, and the bus settled itself noisily. The door hissed open and spewed out a horde of excited, screaming, noisy campers. Looking haggard, two adult females emerged as well, adjusted their hairdos, and shouted loudly at the children, trying to keep the herd in one general location.
The last one off was a tan guy in shorts who looked like he was a college student. He made absolutely no effort to help control the kids, but made a very big effort to flirt with me. He wasn’t bad looking, but he swaggered over and wiggled his eyebrows at me,like that was attractive . Meanwhile, several children were tugging on his clothes and asking him to help them count out their money. He just disregarded them.
I had zero tolerance for guys like that, so I pointedly ignored him and focused all my attention on the kids, trying to make their circus experience a happy one.
The children descended on me in a raucous, violent flurry of little bodies. I felt like I was being stampeded by tiny buffalo. My customer service-like smile probably looked more like a frightened grimace. There was nowhere for me to run. They were all around me, each one clamoring for my attention. The adults approached, and I asked them hopefully, “Are you all paying together or separately?”
