Skycircus

by Peter Bunzl

  At last, Slimwood appeared again. “And now WHAT YOU CAME HERE FOR,” he called. “The FREAKISH and UNNATURAL portion of our show!”

  The crowd’s mutterings became filled with a kind of electric excitement, and the music accompanying Slimwood took on an edgy, scrambled tone.

  “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, PLEASE GIVE A WARM HAND – OR PREFERABLY TWO, HE COULD USE THEM BOTH – FOR LUCA THE LOBSTER BOY!”

  A boy with mechanical claw-like hands appeared in the gap between the curtains. He wore a linen shirt and woollen breeches, and had blue eyes and blond hair, scruffy as a haystack. He seemed ill at ease, but he snapped his claws on cue. Lily guessed he was about fifteen, though he was barely taller than her.

  “Take note of his gruesome appendages,” Slimwood advised, pointing at Luca with his whip from the edge of the ring. With a shudder, he leaned towards the audience, and held up his free hand, whispering theatrically from behind it. “Each claw can cut through six inches of steel like paper!”

  Luca had a bandy-legged gait and his shoulders stooped low. Lily noticed he could barely keep his heavy-looking claws from dragging in the sawdust. She fidgeted in her seat, balling her fists. She didn’t appreciate the sneering grandiosity of Slimwood’s words, or the way the boy was being treated. She wondered if Slimwood spoke to Angelique that way too, and found herself grinding her teeth at the idea of him exploiting hybrids like her for entertainment. Displaying their idiosyncrasies as things to be gawped at and feared.

  While she was thinking all this, the Lunk had creakily dragged a pair of dangling chains along a suspended roof rail and hung them directly over Luca’s head in the centre of the ring.

  “Tonight,” Slimwood explained, as Luca began to climb, “Luca will ascend these chains unaided, and swing from them using only the strength of each hooked hand. Don’t get too close or anger him, ladies and gents, for he can tear off your nose with a single snap of his claw!”

  “LAWKS ALMIGHTY!” shrieked someone in the row of seats beside Lily. “HE’S A MONSTER!”

  Lily waited for Slimwood to come to Luca’s defence. He wasn’t a monster. Why couldn’t they see that? But Slimwood merely confirmed the woman’s opinion. “In the circus we call them FREAKS, Miss!”

  At that, the woman fainted dead away and her companion made a big scene of fanning her back to life. Luckily, Madame Lyons-Mane, who was still standing near the edge of the ring, was on hand to administer some smelling salts. She plucked a little glass bottle from her pocket and hurried over to wave it beneath the woman’s nose.

  The sharp and pungent stink wafted across the row of seats and made Lily feel quite dizzy. Auggie the clown helped the woman to her feet and her friend escorted her outside for some fresh air. Meanwhile the entire auditorium, including Luca, had paused to watch this strange sideshow. As she exited, the woman was still muttering about what a horror he was.

  Lily glanced at his sad face and her heart went out to him. Robert and Tolly looked disgusted by the scene too.

  “Why do they behave that way?” Robert whispered. The audience’s attention had returned to Luca as he started to climb the chain.

  “People despise what’s different,” Tolly said. “They’re scared to death of it.” He nodded at the ringmaster and Luca. “But if I had to guess who was the rotter out of them two, I would put my money on that Slimwood fella.”

  Lily remembered when she’d told Tolly about the Cogheart and how it made her feel she didn’t fit in. Tolly had admitted he often felt the same. He was an orphan selling newspapers back then, and people often looked down on him because of that. He knew what it was like to be seen as different or lesser than others. And he was right, Lily reflected. Most people never gave you a chance to prove yourself their equal, especially if you didn’t look quite like them.

  Luca had nearly reached the roof by now.

  “No one knows how he lost his hands,” Slimwood narrated as Luca completed his climb. “Perhaps they were severed in a threshing accident, or mangled in a loom? Maybe they were snipped off with scissors when he was a tailor’s apprentice as punishment for sucking his thumb? Not even he can recall… But none of that’s important. What matters is this freak’s claws are as TOUGH AS IRON!”

  Luca swung back and forth from the top of the chain, holding his body at a right angle to it, exhibiting unnatural strength.

  Then he scrambled back down to the ring and bowed to end his act. His face was filled with disdain as he stared at the audience and he clacked his claws together distractedly to accompany their uneasy round of scattered applause.

  Lily was beginning to feel hugely uncomfortable about the whole Skycircus set-up. After all, what was the difference between people like Luca, who everyone paid to goggle at, and her, with her own hybrid nature? The only real distinction was his oddness was self-evident, whilst Lily’s was hidden deep inside.

  “UP NEXT IS DEEDEE LONG-LEGS, THE WORLD’S WEIRDEST AND MOST WONDERFUL WIRE-WALKER!”

  A young girl with dark brown hair wearing a pink tutu waltzed out across the ring, teetering on stilt-like mechanical legs that whirred and fizzed with her every step and made her look like a clockwork flamingo.

  Once again the audience screeched and caterwauled. But Deedee ignored them. Instead she climbed gracefully up a rope ladder to the wire that was suspended high over the ring, only visible now the spotlight was on it. Then she took up a long pole that was balanced on hooks beside the platform at the top of the ladder and, holding it out for balance, she began to walk the wire, putting one foot carefully in front of the other, her mechanical toes grasping the rope with each step.

  Soon, as swiftly as she had stepped onto the wire, she was running along it, skipping back and forth; performing flips and handstands on the rope – tricks that Lily had never seen or even heard of before, not even in the penny dreadful circus stories she’d read. When Deedee had finished she climbed down to the ring and bowed distractedly to the audience with a look of studied indifference, before slipping away through the curtain.

  “NOW, WITNESS THE LARGEST MECHANICAL MAN EVER BUILT. HE LITERALLY DOES HAVE MUSCLES OF STEEL! OUR RESIDENT STRONGMAN – THE LUNK!”

  The Lunk stomped into the ring. His humungous square body squeaked as loudly as an un-oiled steam engine, his square metal feet sending up puffs of sawdust and shaking the ground beneath him.

  He approached a cage being wheeled on from the other direction by a group of four heavyset men, and his long square shadow fell across two mangy-looking lions, one tiger and a bear, all stalking about inside it.

  The Lunk demonstrated his superhuman strength by bending an iron bar, before shutting himself in the cage with the dangerous animals. But somehow neither feat was particularly impressive. There was nothing the carnivores could do to him, given that he was made of metal. In fact, Lily felt more afraid for the animals when the Lunk threateningly waved a chair at them. It wasn’t fair to put such an indomitable iron man up against these poor scraggy wild beasts. They didn’t even try to come near him.

  As the Lunk’s act ended, a vague and uneasy atmosphere floated over the ring like oil on water. Surely they must be nearing the end of the show? Lily wondered if they were making a mistake staying until its conclusion Would it be better to leave now – after all, they still had to work out how they were going to get home? Or should she still wait? She dearly wanted to see Angelique – to witness her performance and speak with her.

  In that instant the band started up again, the fiddle bowing and swooping, and the accordion and drums getting faster and faster, rising in apparent anticipation of something astounding still to come. Then Slimwood reappeared and spoke over the music: “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, YOU ARE ABOUT TO EXPERIENCE OUR GRAND FINALE AND SHOWSTOPPER!”

  Lily sat forward in her seat. This had to be it, surely? What she’d been waiting for…?

  “Watch the Skycircus’s most FANTASTIC FREAK perform on the FLYING TRAPEZE! A monster so MAGNIFICENT, a hybrid so HYPNOTIC, that they call her THE
FAIRY-PRINCESS OF ENGLAND! Daedalus’s daughter! THE BEWITCHING BIRD-GIRL OF GREAT BRITAIN! A creature of the earth and air! A hybrid miracle of our modern clockwork age! A ONCE-IN-A-LIFETIME VISION!” He waved his whip at the audience. “See her SOAR ABOVE THE SAWDUST in a feat of FANTASTIC FEATHERED BRAVERY! Observe her fly from her trapeze to trapeze, performing the impossible quadruple somersault in PLAIN SIGHT, from the astounding height of ONE-HUNDRED-AND-ONE PERILOUS FEET! I give you OUR VERY OWN ACROBATIC ANGEL: MISS ANGELIQUE AIRHART!”

  The spotlight swept across the ring and paused halfway up a long rope ladder. And there, hanging from a rung, suspended between heaven and earth, was the girl with wings.

  Lily’s eyes were pinned to Angelique, who was framed in the spotlight. Glass beads twinkled in her thick, fuzzy plaits of hair, which wound about the top of her head like a halo, and her wide chestnut eyes were highlighted by the shimmering colours of her costume that stood out against her brown skin. The dark feathers of her wings, pinned to her back, wavered as if blown by a soft breeze.

  This was who they’d been waiting for.

  Lily was so entranced by Angelique, she barely heard the loud, low gasp of Tolly in the seat beside her.

  “I recognize that girl,” Tolly said. “I didn’t realize before from the invitation – the picture was too small and blurry – but she used to live in the Camden Workhouse. Her name was Angela in them days, not Angelique, and she never had them wings.” He shook his head in marvel. “We were friends back then, her and me – although we hardly talked. I used to send her food up in a basket and messages too, sometimes, to the attic where she lived. One day she went missing. I asked the other orphans what happened, but none of them knew. She’d just disappeared.”

  The music gradually built as Angelique hauled herself up the ladder, rung by rung. Her body was tall and straight and regal, but beneath her smile was a slight wince that suggested she found the ascent painful, and Lily observed that she used her left leg more than her right to climb.

  Tolly had noticed too. “She broke that leg working for Miss Cleaver.”

  “Who’s Miss Cleaver?” Robert asked, watching Angelique with bated breath.

  “The woman what ran the orphanage,” Tolly explained, his rapt eyes following Angelique. “She told us she was sending Angela to be looked after in a hospital for a while. Then a lady came and took her away, and we never saw her again. But in all my days I would’ve never imagined she’d end up here, working in the circus. And with wings an’ all – who’d have thunk it!” He whistled softly to himself.

  Lily felt the scars over her heart itch. “When was all this, Tolly?” she asked.

  “Five years ago. Angela weren’t half brave then,” Tolly replied, jiggling nervously in his seat. “Still is, it seems.”

  Lily saw that he was right. The higher Angelique rose from the ground, the more buoyant she became and the more she seemed to swell with confidence. It was as if being up in the air made her more herself.

  By now she had reached the edge of the platform and she threw out one hand, waving to the audience, giving a bright, confident salute to match the beaming smile radiating from her face. “You’re sure Angela and Angelique are one and the same person?” Robert asked Tolly.

  He nodded. “Sure as eggs is eggs. I’d remember her anywhere. Seared into my memory, she is. Face of an angel.”

  Angelique leaped nimbly from the top of the ladder onto the hanging platform. With a dreamy air, she dipped her hands in a tin box attached to the platform, and then clapped them together, spraying white chalk like fairy dust through the air. She grasped the trapeze and flipped onto the bar – then she opened her wings and flapped them wildly until the trapeze began to sway back and forth.

  As the rhythm of its movement became faster, Angelique sprang to her feet on the bar. On the next forward swing she let go with her hands and fell backwards, hooking her feet around the corners where the ropes met the bar. Hanging upside down, her wings streamed behind her like a cape of feathers.

  Lily watched, entranced. She was so busy following the girl’s flowing movements that she forgot all about the questions in her head.

  Angelique beat her wings hard and fast.

  The trapeze swung ever higher, reaching the zenith of its arc.

  Fifty feet away was another trapeze that sat empty and entirely still.

  Angelique had it in her sights. It was clear that she was going to jump between them. An impossibly dangerous distance. A daredevil deed.

  On the ground, Slimwood waved up at the empty trapeze. “Ladies and gentlemen, don’t take your eyes off Miss Angelique Airhart for ONE SECOND. She’s about to attempt the impossible quadruple somersault with NO SAFTEY NET. Drum roll, please!”

  The drum played a steady pitter-pattering beat.

  For one last time, in the tent’s star-spangled heights, Angelique swung forward on her bar… And made a

  leap

  of

  faith.

  Whirr-tick went her fluttering wing-rotors.

  Whoosh! went her feathers.

  Lily’s heart screamed in anticipation. Her scars itched. A lump lodged in her throat.

  Angelique somersaulted through the air, her wings streaming behind her. The spotlight following.

  It seemed for an instant as if she wasn’t going to make it.

  She was a second too long in free fall, her plumage a mere decoration, incapable of keeping her up.

  She tried to grab for the other trapeze, but missed…

  Lily gasped. Robert wrung his hands together and Tolly let out a horrified yell, joined by the cries of the audience as Angelique tumbled towards the ring.

  Then suddenly, a second from hitting the sawdust, she sprang to life, flapping her wings and swooping upwards to circle around the edge of the tent. It had been a pretence.

  “Wow!” Tolly gabbled. “I ain’t never seen the like! She can really fly!”

  Robert wanted to reply but he had no words, he could only yelp in relief.

  Then the entire audience were on their feet, whooping ecstatically and laughing in maniacal release.

  Lily felt a bubble of joy burst inside her, and she stood and joined in the rapturous rounds of applause. Angelique was astonishing. She had performed her own dazzling hybrid miracle.

  Every head turned to follow her as she soared through the air. Swooping about the canvas rooftop and basking in the adulation, she looked entirely relaxed. Her flapping wings beat slower with each twirl, until her movements became leisurely, as if she was gliding through water. She frolicked through the air, like a fish swimming in the sea, a butterfly drunk on pollen, or an eagle soaring in the sky; hovering on the strength of her wings, an angel in flight.

  Finally, she dived down and alighted, with a perfect puff of sawdust, at the edge of the ring, where she bobbed low and picked up a walking stick that must’ve been left there for her. She pulled herself up to her full height, chin lifted and proud and, leaning on her stick, she stretched her wings out wide and took a bow.

  The crowd cheered crazily as Angelique hobbled to the centre of the ring, smiling and waving to everyone, but within moments the cheers began to die down and Lily heard the return of the gossipy chat. The applause had become a mere smattering. It seemed to Lily as if Angelique’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, and as she reached the backstage curtain, Lily saw her mask of joy fall completely.

  Angelique stepped from the spotlight and was smoothly replaced by Slimwood and Madame Lyons-Mane.

  “That was our last act of the night!” Slimwood shouted.

  Every eye was on him now but Lily’s. So only she saw that outside of the spotlight, framed between the closing curtains, the Lunk appeared at Angelique’s side.

  “Please could you make your way quietly to the exits as soon as the house lights come back on,” Madame Lyons-Mane added.

  Lily watched Angelique shrink back as the metal man grasped her arm. Her shoulders hunched and her wings drooped, their tips grazi
ng the ground. She stared desperately out through the closing velvet drapes, and her eyes widened in alarm. Lily followed her darting gaze and realized she must have caught sight of Tolly.

  Then the Lunk pulled her back and the curtains swished together, and they were gone, leaving only Slimwood and Madame Lyons-Mane in the ring.

  None of the other acts returned to take a bow, but Slimwood and Madame Lyons-Mane seemed happy to accept the applause on everyone’s behalf.

  “Did you see that?” Lily cried, when the pair had finally finished bowing.

  Tolly nodded. “I think she recognized me. And that mechanical was hurting her.”

  “It can’t be,” Robert said. “Mechanicals don’t hurt humans.”

  “Where’d you hear such stories?” Tolly asked.

  “My da told me,” Robert said. “It’s the first law of mechanics: a mech can’t kill humans or seriously harm them. It’s part of their design, built into their valves and circuits.”

  “I’m not so sure,” Lily said. “I think Tolly might be right. Angelique didn’t look happy.”

  Joey and Auggie the clowns were trundling round the ring, relighting the oil lamps. The crowd stood and began filing towards the doors.

  Robert, Tolly and Lily put on their coats and buttoned them. Robert wedged his cap back on, and Lily wound Mrs Rust’s long tiger-striped scarf around her neck. She left the wilting flowers and took out her repaired pocket watch to check the time.

  “Eight thirty-two,” she told the others. “I know Rusty said we should be back by nine but the party’s bound to go on until midnight, and I really think we should find Angelique and see if she’s all right. Maybe get some answers about all this too, like we were promised.”

  “But how are we going to talk to Angelique if the Lunk’s guarding her?” Tolly asked.

  Lily shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  “Lily, I’ve got a bad feeling about this place,” Robert butted in. “The atmosphere’s creepy, and we should be getting back for your pa’s speech. If we go now we can still get home in time to make it seem as if we were never away. We could leave Angelique a letter. Find someone here we trust and ask them to give it to her? Perhaps the ringmistress?”