Gauntlet of Fear

by David Cargill

  The stunned silence was broken by Freddie choking on a biscuit and spilling his tea. ‘Lie still and stay calm, Giles. Perhaps the doctor hasn’t diagnosed your condition properly. You seem to be hallucinating and that bump on the head may be more serious than any of us thought.’

  ‘No, no, Freddie. You’ve got it all wrong,’ said Giles, wincing with pain from the shoulder as he adjusted his pillow. ‘Laura and I…we’re engaged. Cross my heart!’

  ‘Look, Giles, the painkillers will take a little while to kick in. Listening to what you’re gibbering about, I think I myself should’ve taken some of those tablets, but it’s too late now.’

  ‘I’m serious, Freddie. But I don’t know how I managed to propose. I was down on my knees at the time.’

  ‘Stop right there, Giles. You sound delirious and that worries me. A bump on the head can cause all sorts of complications.’

  ‘But I didn’t have a bump on the head when I asked Laura to marry me.’

  ‘You never cease to amaze me. For years I’ve done my best to get you entered into the marriage stakes, to no avail…and now it seems you really are under starter’s orders. Congratulations, sport.’

  ‘Thanks, Freddie. We haven’t set a date for the wedding yet. That, I’m afraid, will have to wait until I’m successfully finished with this circus business.’

  ‘Do you think Laura should be told about your mishap with the metal pole?’

  ‘No! For the moment, no news is good news.’

  With those few words Giles drifted off to sleep while his friend took advantage of the interlude and attempted to doze off in a chair.

  The next two days were restricted to occasional walks around the circus where they noticed arrangements were being made to erect a main tent with seating accommodation. This was obviously a preparation for the first public performance of the season.

  A visit to the control tower notice board put them in the picture as regards the date of this event which was less than three days away.

  This was the first time either of the two men had the opportunity to watch the arduous and delicate process of erecting a circus tent, or “big top” as it is often nicknamed.

  Tons of heavy canvas, laid out on a wide area of level ground, was examined for tears. Large metal poles were equipped with bale-rings to which the canvas was attached. Many workers meticulously brought the poles to the vertical and the bale-rings with the canvas were hoisted upwards. Everything was done with strength and efficiency, until finally all parts of the big top were fastened securely. The circus tent then looked as it always did in the best adverts and was ready for the bleachers to be installed which would seat a huge audience.

  Nothing was left to chance and Giles watched every detail as it unfolded. The horror of a collapsing tent and falling poles of toughened metal, once a crowd of people were seated inside, would probably mean the end of this form of entertainment. But logical reasoning suggested to Giles that an accident of this nature would not only deprive Ramon of his circus authority but would make it impossible for anyone else to take over the show.

  When the day arrived, for the performance to North Devon guests, the tent was a blaze of coloured canvas and welcoming lights. As the afternoon daylight began to go the old airfield, which had once been a place of secrecy and dark foreboding, was now transformed by the gaiety of the music from the circus band, and by the Tropicana Big Top with all its illuminations.

  Crowds arrived and before long the large tented area was filled to capacity. Giles and Freddie had two of the best seats and were looking forward to an exciting evening along with the rest of the spectators.

  At the same time Giles was anxious about the likely possibility of an accident which might have repercussions for Ramon and his circus.

  A fanfare from the circus band brought the ringmaster before the audience.

  Sebastian Capuzzo, dressed in red frock coat, white shirt with wing collar and white tie, black top hat, black dress trousers and boots, held a microphone in his white-gloved hands and addressed the crowded spectators.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome to the Circus Tropicana. This circus is proud to present some of the finest artistes in the circus world. They come from all parts of the globe. So sit back and enjoy the best entertainment available. As Cecil B. DeMille once said, it is the greatest show on earth.’

  The band started playing some of the Souza marches in rapid time as a group of jugglers entered the ring and performed their amazing routines to great applause.

  The costumes and the lighting brought a new dimension to the acts that Giles had watched in rehearsal. He was rapidly becoming more relaxed as clowns came on to create mayhem around the ringside while riggers entered and checked everything for the high wire act.

  The wire walker, Hank Findley, entered the ring to a rousing reception while the band played tunes in waltz time. Hank was wearing fine, loose fitting trousers in a bright aquamarine colour. A light jacket, in the same colour, was open at the front over a bare chest. Carrying a pair of very soft leather flexible slip-on shoes he climbed to a platform at one end of the tight rope and paraded to the spectators.

  There was no sign of the limp that was clearly evident when Giles first met him at Eggesford railway station and his body language demonstrated supreme confidence.

  He changed his footwear, slid one foot on to the wire and moved forward maintaining an assured balance using arms to assist as he travelled, with swagger and aplomb, across the wire to the platform on the other side.

  He followed that by crossing to halfway and removing his jacket which he threw to the ground.

  A hushed crowd watched his daring and skill as he collected a skipping rope from one end and, moving to the centre, once more, started to skip while balancing on the wire. A slight wobble in his performance caused a moment of anxiety to those watching but that seemed to cause greater distress to the spectators than it did to the performer.

  The realisation that they were watching a human being, like themselves, whose physical achievement and co-ordination appeared beyond their capacity, moved the spectators to emotional distress at moments of extreme difficulty for the performer when his survival on the wire was in grave doubt.

  This was an edge-of-the-seat act that brought gasps of alarm from spectators when the performer had even the slightest totter on a wire that had no safety net below to protect the artiste if he should fall.

  The finale, which was a somersault on the tight rope, received thunderous applause from the enthralled crowd.

  Wiping sweaty palms Giles was no exception. He clapped and welcomed the fact that the first really dangerous act had finished without mishap. He was constantly on the alert for any sign of equipment that might have been tampered with and his brain had to cope with the demeanour of those on that blasted list of suspects.

  But what if the perpetrator of the circus accidents was someone not on that list? That was something Giles could not envisage but it was still a possibility.

  As Hank left the arena to a standing ovation, the band played rousing music that introduced a bunch of clowns with their gaudy costumes and made-up faces. Falling about on the floor and getting in each other’s way they had the crowd in stitches. Even more hilarious was the sight of a couple of the clowns scrambling their way to the tightrope platform.

  They started taking it in turn to attempt a wire walk displaying shaking legs and heart stopping antics before collapsing back on to the platform. It was all good fun but those who stepped on to the wire and displayed their dodgy capers were anything but novices. They were skilful in their own rights.

  A few minutes of merriment closed with the circus band playing a fanfare and an announcement by the ringmaster introducing Michael Wagner, the magician, as someone who was proud to present illusions where the audience, wherever they were seated, could see all around each act which was to be done without the use of backdrops or mirrors.

  It was at this point that a small cage was whe
eled into the ring by several male assistants. Giles looked at Freddie with a hint of apprehension. The cage, which was covered on the top, had a draped curtain attached to the back bars. The assistants rotated the cage so that all the spectators could see that the cage was empty. Giles had a shiver move up his spine; danger had been the end product when he’d last witnessed this act.

  The magician gestured to his female assistant, Allison, who proceeded to glide into the ring wearing an impossibly tight bikini in a strikingly rich mauve colour. Was mauve or purple the colour of death thought Giles?

  The magician opened the door of the cage and helped his assistant to enter before closing the door again. The male assistants rotated the cage once more thus allowing all spectators to see that the cage contained the lovely Allison and nothing else.

  Two girls, in colourful costumes, entered. Taking hold of the ends of the curtain, the girls pulled it around the other three sides of the cage completely hiding the girl inside. Four cables were lowered from the roof of the tent and attached to hooks on the cage top after which the cage was gently raised off the ground.

  The band, played a medley of mysterious music, then developed into a roll of the drums that ended with a crash of cymbals. The two girls who still held cords from the curtain pulled the entire cloth away from the cage to reveal that the cage no longer held the bikini-clad girl captive. Instead the cage was filled by the orange and black striped frame of the Royal Bengal Tiger, Khan.

  The cage was gently lowered to the floor, the cables unfastened and the cage containing Khan, wheeled away from the ring to thunderous applause. Michael Wagner bowed to the audience, looked across to Giles and winked. Giles wiped his damp hands on his trousers, turned to Freddie and exhaled a breath he’d been holding for more than half a minute.

  A group of clowns, some on stilts, some juggling clubs or coloured balls, cascaded around the ring causing amusement and laughter from the younger members of the audience and rapturous applause from the adults.

  Into the ring came a galaxy of shapely young females in strikingly rich costumes while attendants carried in springboards which they positioned on a sheet covering the ring floor. The acrobatic act which followed was action packed as girls, standing on the specially designed boards, were sprung into the air by a colleague jumping onto the other end and propelling them upwards to land on the shoulders of a partner in a perfectly balanced position.

  While the band continued to play some stirring music the slickness of the lively act went down well with the crowd and, when it ended and the ring was cleared, on came a mock-up building, several stories high, that immediately brought back unpleasant memories of the fire Giles had witnessed in the hanger.

  The magician’s assistant, Allison, had been so nearly involved in a life-threatening incident during that rehearsal and as Giles scrutinized the young woman, carrying the baby, going into the building and climbing up the stairs, he became instantly aware that the young woman was not Allison.

  The act had obviously been changed and, as the fire started to take hold in the building, Michael Wagner, the magician, came over to Giles and whispered that it had been felt that Allison had appeared in too many acts and a decision was made to substitute someone else in the fire act with the clowns.

  An understanding nod from Giles sent Michael on his way and the Keystone Cops scene by the hilariously comical clowns went off without a hitch to a great reception by an appreciative audience.

  The ring was cleared as the band played gentle music in waltz time. Several female assistants began to build a staircase of swords and Sebastian Capuzzo, the ringmaster, announced the outstanding balancing act by the Ecuadorian gymnast Leonardo.

  When Leonardo had stripped to the waist he moved to the staircase and paid special attention to the position of the swords. This was something he hadn’t done when Giles watched the act on New Year’s Eve at the Soho venue in London.

  The tension in Giles’ face increased as the Ecuadorian athlete moved into the handstand position and advanced towards the large swords. Giles’ jaw tightened and the muscles of his upper back started to ache while his eyes searched carefully for any sign of bleeding from Leonardo’s hands.

  It was probably the longest few minutes of Giles’ life as he watched and waited for the harbinger of doom. He expected something to happen at sometime during this performance before the public. Not knowing when, or at what point an accident would occur, was agonizing but it was much worse having no knowledge of just how serious it might be.

  Relief was very much in evidence when Leonardo safely completed his act, took his bow and left the ring. The ringmaster waited until the applause had finished before he introduced what he described as the equestrian showpiece sensation of the century…Lizzie Lisbet and her Andalusian mare.

  From the moment she entered on her imposing white horse she took the spectators by storm. Many of those watching were almost certainly knowledgeable about horses and a considerable number of them would be riders who were well versed about the many difficult manouvres being executed by a young girl riding bareback.

  Once again Giles was enthralled by this horse and rider whose performance ended the first half of the circus programme. The interval that followed was a chance to compare notes with Freddie and thank some divine intervention that, so far, nothing amiss had taken place.

  The second half of the circus presentation started with a group of young, scantily-clad, females performing intricate and aesthetically pleasing balances involving as many as five at a time. It was a good start and a buoyant precursor of things to come.

  The ringmaster, who was thoroughly enjoying being allowed to introduce a succession of class acts, welcomed back the magician, Michael Wagner and Allison his charming assistant. Michael was dressed in an Ali Baba outfit and Allison wore a fetching Arabian Nights’ costume.

  Several males in Eastern outfits brought a large round wicker basket on a pedestal with four legs, into the ring. The basket was wider at the top than it was at the bottom and had a square shaped wicker lid on top.

  The magician had one of the assistants remove the lid and then he assisted Allison as she stepped into the basket.

  Once Allison was in the basket the open top was covered by a black cloth that was pushed down into the basket. The lid was put in place at the same time as the cloth was removed.

  Four swords were brought to the magician who, taking one at a time, pushed the swords through a hole in the lid making sure each sword came out through the lower part of the basket with the final sword being plunged straight down through the middle.

  One by one the swords were slowly removed. The lid was taken off and the cloth replaced. The magician stepped into the basket pushing the cloth downwards, with his feet, as he did so. As he stepped out the cloth started to rise from the inside of the basket, finally being removed to reveal a smiling Allison who was assisted out on to the ring floor by Michael Wagner, the magician.

  This first live performance, to the general public, was almost over without a single fault in the proceedings and that was comforting to Giles. A look at the programme showed that more mad mayhem from Chuck Marstow and his clowns was to be the next act.

  That was due to be followed by a number of acrobats performing a sequence of intricate balances using ropes, poles and swings. This would climax with a girl acrobat attempting a tumbling shoulder swing on a rope.

  Other acts yet to come included Ingrid Dahlberg with her knife throwing “Wheel of Death” and Giles was in no doubt that this could be where there was a fine line between success and failure. Accident was always going to be a possibility without a third party being involved. That thought brought back the words the circus doctor had spoken regarding disaster and tragedy lying in wait. Giles knew that circus performers risked their necks twice a day and the knife-throwing act would be no exception.

  The spectacular trapeze performance by the Velasquez Trio, which would bring this top class programme to a close, was one more ins
tance where lives were at stake.

  As Giles handed the circus leaflet over to Freddie he suddenly became conscious that he had his own fingers crossed. He uncrossed them and looked around in a rather embarrassed way.

  His gaze focused on Ramon, the circus proprietor, who was standing in the artistes’ entrance way. Giles rose and went over to the one man who could possibly be more apprehensive than he himself was.

  ‘The show has gone very well Senhor Mordomo. You ought to be a very proud man.’

  The circus supremo tilted his head and stared at Giles. ‘You are, of course, correct in what you say but…I can never eliminate the stress that comes from an expectation that catastrophe may be just around the next corner. You know how it is sometimes said that the show is not over until the fat lady sings…well, in our case we do not have a fat lady and there are several acts still to come where accident, contrived or not, could ruin what has gone before. That, in hindsight, would be the occasion when I’d wish we’d had a fat lady singing.’

  A brief musical introduction and an announcement from the ringmaster, inviting patrons to take their seats, gave Giles a chance to lay a hand on Ramon’s shoulder giving him a squeeze of encouragement before returning to sit down beside Freddie.

  It was unusual for Giles not to be totally entranced by the antics of circus clowns but, as the second part of the show began, for some reason Giles was much too aware of a premonition of disaster. The hard work done by Chuck Marstow and his entourage had a wonderful effect on the large audience, but Giles sat with staring eyes at the melee in front of him as his head ruled his heart…his brain seemed in no doubt that tragedy was about to take the place of comedy. But when and how?

  The comical concoction by the clowns came to an end with a female aerialist taking over. While suspended by a rope looped around one of her wrists the girl began swing overs. Each somersault she performed was given a drum roll and the audience was encouraged to count the number of swings. Giles was conscious of the fact that in 1931 Lillian Leitzel, who was the wife of the world famous trapeze artist, Alfredo Codona, fell while doing this act when part of her rigging broke. She had died of her injuries a few days later and the possibility of a similar occurrence had Giles on the edge of his seat.