by Collen Houck
One of the teachers responded, “Oh no. We decided to let each child handle their own money. We didn’t want to take ownership ofthat .”
“That’s great,” I muttered with a fake smile.
So, I began selling the tickets, and Cathleen soon joined me. It felt like hours, but sooner than I expected, I heard the music of the performance begin. I sat there for about twenty more minutes, but nobody else came in, so I locked the money box and took the remainder of my lunch in with me to watch
the performance. Matt gestured for me to come over and sit next to him near the balloon stand. I handed him the money box, sat down with my lunch propped tidily on my lap, and bit into my crunchy apple.
The man I’d met earlier that morning was the ring leader.
“What’s his name?” I whispered to Matt.
“Agostino Maurizio,” he replied. “He’s the owner of the circus, and the acrobats are all members of his family.”
I picked up my slightly stale sandwich. “How’d you get involved?”
“My dad takes care of and trains the animals.”
“Cool.” I sipped my soda and watched the performances. The clowns had just come out. Most of them were on foot, one was on a tricycle, and another was on a tall bicycle with a giant wheel in the back and a short, tiny wheel in the front with very tall axels. The pedals were about two feet in the air, which put the seat of the bike at about five feet high. The kids laughed and screamed, delighted with the clowns.
Next up were the acrobats who brought out a couple of minitrampolines. They did vaulting, foot juggling,
a low-wire act—Matt said that the building wasn’t tall enough for a high wire, but that they were very proficient at it—and ended with a pretty cool hula hoop act. He pointed out Cathleen, who was part of the acrobat troupe. I didn’t even recognize her.
The jugglers came next and started with small colorful balls, then moved on to bowling pins and even knives.
Matt leaned over and said, “Even though the knives look real, they can’t actually cut you.”
“Why not?”
“They’re not sharp. But they can leave a hell of a bruise though. I know from personal experience.”
I grinned and nodded. Not bad acts. I was really enjoying myself. Matt elbowed me and motioned to the balloons. Intermission was going to start soon.
I threw out the remainder of my lunch and helped Matt blow up the balloons. The kids were in a frenzy!
They ran to every booth and counted out their coins so they could spend every penny.
Red seemed to be the most popular balloon color. Matt took the money while I did the balloons. I’d never done it before, and I popped a few, which startled the kids, but I tried to make it into a joke by shouting, “Whoopsie!” every time it happened. Pretty soon, they were yelling, “Whoopsie!” along with me.
I whispered, “Matt, why didn’t we inflate more balloons ahead of time?”
He leaned over and said, “It saves money to wait; plus, the balloons last longer.”
I laughed. “That wasbefore you tested my balloon blowing ability. Now you see that I’m costing you more money than you’re saving.”
He grinned good-naturedly. “You’re right. Next time, you take the money and I’ll do the balloons.”
The music began again, and the kids quickly filed back to their seats, clutching their assorted purchases.
Several of the kids had bought glow-in-the-dark swords and were waving them around, threatening each other gleefully.
The guy that came up with selling fake swords to kids ought to be punished. Someone should force him to sit surrounded by kids with these weapons at exciting events for the rest of his life. Twitchy kids brandishing those glowing weapons at various community events had poked me several times, and it was
not a pleasant experience.
As we sat down again, Matt’s dad came into the ring to do his dog show. The dogs were an assortment of mutts that he had rescued from the pound. They were so cute! They ran in circles in descending order of size then played an elaborate game of stealing objects. They nipped their trainer in the butt while he acted as if he couldn’t find the culprit. Several of them did cool flips too.
One of the dogs balanced on a big rubber ball and walked it around the inside of the ring. A tiny dog jumped up onto the back of a bigger dog with a small saddle, took the reins in its mouth, and rode around the ring. It was a very cute show. I told Matt that I was impressed, and he beamed at me, obviously very proud of his dad.
After his dad left the arena, the clowns came out again and played various tricks on audience members.
One threw a bucket of confetti over the kids.Great! I probably get to sweep all that up. Then they did the old seltzer water tricks on each other and wrapped up the whole thing by getting everyone to stand up and follow them in a clown dance.
They exited the stage amid great cheering from the crowd. Then, Mr. Maurizio came back out.
Dramatic
safari hunting music began, and the lights extinguished quickly, as if they had been mysteriously blown out. A spotlight found the announcer in the center of the ring. “And now…the highlight of our programma! He was taken from the harsh, wild giungla of India and brought here to America. He is a fierce hunter, a cacciatore bianco, who stalks his prey in the wild, waiting, watching for the right time, and
then, he…SPRINGSinto action! Movimento!”
While he was talking, men brought out a large, round cage. It was shaped like a giant upside-down colander or bowl, and it had a chain-link tunnel attached to one side. They set it in the middle of the ring and clamped locks onto metal rings embedded in the cement blocks.I hadn’t noticed those before.
Mr. Maurizio continued. He roared into the microphone, and the kids all jumped in their seats. I laughed at Mr. Maurizio’s theatrics. He was a good storyteller. He proclaimed, “This tigre is one of the most pericoloso—dangerouspredators in the entire world! Watch our trainer carefully as he risks his life to bring you…DHIREN!” He jerked his head toward the right, and then he ran out of the ring as the spotlight moved over to the canvas flaps at the end of the building. Two men had pulled out an old-fashioned animal wagon.
It looked like the kind of animal wagon on a box of animal crackers. It had a white curvy gilt-edged top, black wheels painted white around the edges, and ornamental carved axles that were painted gold. Black metal bars on both sides of the wagon curved in an arch at the top.
A ramp from the wagon door was attached to the chain-link tunnel, and Matt’s dad entered the cage.
He set up three short stools on one side of the cage and stood on the other side. He had changed into an impressive golden costume and brandished a short whip.
“RELEASE THE TIGER!” he commanded.
The doors opened, and a man standing by the cage prodded the animal. I held my breath as an enormous white tiger emerged from the cage and trotted down the ramp and into the chain-link tunnel. A moment later, it was in the big cage with Matt’s father. The whip cracked, and the tiger jumped up onto the stool. Another crack and the tiger stood on its hind legs and pawed the air with its claws. The crowd erupted in applause.
The tiger leapt from stool to stool while Matt’s father kept pulling the stools farther and farther away.
On
the last leap, I held my breath. I wasn’t sure if the tiger would make it to the other stool, but Matt’s father
encouraged it. Gathering itself, it crouched low, assessed the distance carefully, and then leapt across the breach.
Its entire body was airborne for several seconds, with its legs stretched out ahead and behind. It was a magnificent animal. It touched the stool with its front paws and shifted its weight, then landed its back feet
gracefully. It turned on the small stool, rotated its large body with ease, and sat, facing its master. I clapped for a long time, totally in awe of the great beast.
Matt’s father shouted another command. The tiger jumped
down from the stool and ran around the cage in a circle. The trainer circled as well, keeping his eyes centered on the animal. He kept the whip just behind the tiger’s tail, encouraging it to keep moving. Matt’s dad shouted and a young man passed a large ring though the cage—a hoop. The tiger leapt through the hoop, then quickly turned around and jumped back through again and again.
The last thing the trainer did was put his head inside the tiger’s mouth. A hush fell on the crowd, and I felt Matt stiffen. The tiger opened its mouth impossibly wide. I saw its sharp teeth and leaned forward feeling concerned. His father slowly moved his head closer to the tiger. The tiger blinked a few times, but
it held still, and its powerful jaws gaped even wider.
Matt’s dad lowered his head all the way inside the animal’s mouth, fully within the chomping area of the
tiger’s maw. Finally, he slowly brought his head out. When his head was completely free and he had moved away, the crowd erupted in cheers, and he bowed several times. Other handlers appeared to help take down the cage.
My eyes were drawn to the tiger, which was still sitting on the stool. I saw it moving its tongue around.
It
was scrunching up its face as if it smelled something funny. It almost looked like it was gagging, like a cat
does when it has a hairball. Then it shook itself and sat there calmly.
I wasn’t sure if tigers could show emotion, but for some reason I felt like I could sense its mood. It seemed melancholy. I had a sudden urge to stroke its head and comfort it. Matt’s dad brought his hands up, and the crowd cheered loudly. The whip cracked again, and the tiger quickly ran back down the tunnel, up the ramp, and into its cage. The tiger cage was quickly disassembled, and Matt’s dad ran out of the ring and stepped behind the canvas curtain.
Mr. Maurizio dramatically roared, “THE GREAT DHIREN! Molte grazie! Thank you so much for coming to see the Circus Maurizio!” The lights came up, and the kids started stampeding out of the arena. The show was over.
CHAPTER 3
The lights came back on as the kids rushed out of the building in a screaming mob.Which was, incidentally, the same way they had rushed in. I heard the bus start up outside. As it noisily shook itself awake rumbling, hissing, and puffing air out of its exhaust pipe, Matt stood up and stretched. “Ready for the real work now?”
I groaned, “Sure, bring it on.”
He started cleaning the debris off the chairs. Then we pushed them against the wall. When that was done, he handed me a broom.
“We’ve gotta get the whole area swept up, pack up everything in the boxes, and then store them all away again. You get started, and I’ll turn in the money boxes to Mr. Maurizio.”
“No problem.”
I started moving slowly across the floor, my push broom in front of me. I wound forward and back, like a swimmer doing laps, as I swept up the rubbish. Letting my mind wander as I did the menial work, I thought about the acts I had seen. I loved the dog act the best, but there was something…compelling about the tiger. My mind kept drifting back to the big cat.I should tell Matt that I thought his dad clearly had a lot of talent . I knew he’d be happy to hear that.
I’d almost finished sweeping when Matt came back. He bent to help me scoop up the giant mound of trash, and then we spent a good hour packing up boxes and hauling them back to storage. This time, moving the boxes was faster because it looked like we had sold about half of the items.
When this was done, Matt told me that I could go change my clothes and have an hour or two off, then, later, I could join the troupe for dinner in the main building. I was eager to have a little time to myself, so I
hurried back to the tent.
I changed my clothes, sat down on my cot, and pulled out my journal to write about the day. As I wrote, I reflected on the interesting people I had met here. It was obvious that the circus folk considered each other family. Several times, I noticed people stepping in to help, even if it wasn’t their job. I also wrote a bit about the tiger. The tiger really interested me.Maybe I should work with animals and study that in college , I reflected. Then I thought once again about my extreme dislike of biology and knew I’d never make it in that field.
Finishing with my journal, I pulled out a novel and read a couple of chapters. As I got to the end of a chapter, I flipped my book over to keep it open, a bad habit of mine.I know I should use a bookmark, but old habits die hard. I stretched and decided to wander around a little.
Finding the dog kennel, I stayed there for about a half hour playing with the canine performers. They were quivering with excitement and energy as they barked and wagged their tails, trying to gain my attention. My favorite was a little poodle that kept jumping up for me to pet her head. It was almost time for dinner, and I could smell a delectable aroma coming from the big building.
I found the shower area and went in to wash my hands. There weren’t any towels.I’ll have to ask Cathleen to loan me a towel. For now, jeans will have to do. Wiping my hands on my jeans until they were at least semidry, I wandered into the big building. Matt was setting up chairs around seven or eight long folding tables. One of the tables was set up with takeout food from an Italian restaurant. It smelled fantastic. I started to help Matt set up chairs, but he brushed me aside.
“You worked hard today, Kelsey. Relax, I got this,” he said.
Cathleen came over and said, “Come sit by me. We can’t start eating until Mr. Maurizio comes in to make the evening announcements anyway.”
Sure enough, the moment we sat down, Mr. Maurizio strolled dramatically into the building.Huh…he’s histrionic all the time and not just for the show. It’s just his personality, I guess.
“Favoloso performance, everyone! And a most eccellente job to all of our salespeople, eh? They sold more than half of our inventario! So, tonight is a celebration! Mangiare…fill your plates mia famiglia!”
I turned to Cathleen. “I guess that means we did a good job, right?”
She answered, “Yep…let’s eat!”
I waited in line with Cathleen, then picked up my paper plate and filled it with Italian green salad, a big scoop of spinach-and-cheese-stuffed shells covered in tomato sauce, parmesan chicken, and, not having enough room on my plate, popped a warm breadstick in my mouth, grabbed a bottle of water, and sat down. I spied a large chocolate cheesecake for dessert, but I wasn’t even able to finish the dinner I had on my plate.
After dinner, the older people started to wander off. As Matt and Cathleen started to clean up, I offered to give them a hand. Cathleen asked, “Are you going to stay over tonight or are you taking off?”
“Umm…I think I’ll stay tonightif you loan me a pillow and a towel.”
“Great!” She smiled as we finished stacking the tables and chairs. Cathleen strolled back to her tent, and Matt and I swept the floor. I hummed as I worked, happy to have made new friends so quickly.
After the floor was clean and the tables and chairs stacked away, I moved to a quiet corner of the building and called my foster parents to tell them that I’d be staying the night. When I hung up, I approached Matt, who was putting all the leftovers in the fridge, and asked him about his dad.
“I didn’t see your dad at dinner. Doesn’t he get hungry too?”
“I took him a plate. He was busy with Dhiren.”
“Yeah, I’m curious about that. How long has your dad been working with the tiger?”
“Hmm…for about the past five years or so.”
“Did Mr. Maurizio really take him from the jungles of India? I thought most white tigers were bred in captivity.”
“Well, Dad doesn’t really know much about this tiger’s history. Mr. Maurizio purchased it from another circus, and they had bought it from another circus before that. The tiger’s history wasn’t well documented, unlike most of our other circus animals. Dad says the tiger will perform only the standard tricks and refuses to learn anything new, but the good news is that it’s never given him a problem.
It’s a very quiet, almost docile beast, as far as tigers go anyway.”
“Do you think your dad would let me watch him work sometime? I’m curious to see an animal trainer at work.”
“Sure, I’ll ask him. Maybe you can work with Dad a little bit tomorrow.”
“That would be fun. Thanks, Matt!”
There was maybe an hour or two left of light outside, but I had to get up early again. Because I was tired
from the day’s work, I wanted to shower early. Cathleen had put a pillow, blanket, and towel on my cot for me. I grabbed my backpack and the towel and then headed for the shower.
After showering, brushing my teeth, and changing into my warm flannel pj’s and slippers, I hurried back
to my tent. I got cozy under my grandma’s quilt, read one more chapter in my book, and then quickly fell
into a deep sleep.
The next morning after breakfast, Matt found me and said that I had permission to work with his dad, and that I should meet his father over at the dog kennel. I hurried to the kennel and found Matt’s dad playing with the dogs. He looked a lot like an adult version of Matt, with the same brown hair and brown
eyes.
He must have heard me coming because he turned to me and said, “Hello…it’s Kelsey, right? I understand you’ll be my assistant today.”
“Yes, sir…umm, Matt didn’t tell me your name. So, what should I call you?”
He shook my hand warmly. “You can call me Andrew…or Mr. Davis, if you prefer something more formal.” He smiled. “The first thing we need to do is take these feisty little critters for a walk around the grounds.”
“Great! Sounds like fun.”
He gave me five leashes, and I started hooking them up to the dogs’ collars. They bounced around everywhere and got the leashes all twisted around each other. Mr. Davis laughed; he already had his five dogs ready to go. He leaned over to help me untwist the animals, and then we started off.
