by Jaden Wilkes
“Sounds good,” I replied and stood abruptly, catching my purse on the chair behind me, flipping it over with a loud crash. The performers stopped in mid tumble formation and froze, staring at me. “Shit, sorry. I’m so sorry,” I stuttered and tried to regain my composure while dying a little inside.
They began to slow clap as we walked, I heard a couple whistles and cheers and my face was on fire from my neck to the tips of my ears.
On a whim I turned, took a deep bow and added a curtsy for good measure. The performers started to clap in earnest and laugh heartily.
“Nice one, Miss Normal,” Cairo chuckled, “we might have room for you in the Freakshow after all.”
“Ha ha, you’re so funny,” I replied in a sarcastic tone, but I was grateful for his attempt to make light of my disastrous exit.
We walked to the front of the Cirque, taking our time talking and walking slower as we made it back to the only entrance. The entire perimeter of the Cirque was protected by a tall metal gate, and everyone coming and going had to go past the ticket booths I’d be working in.
“Is there a staff entrance?” I asked when we stepped up into a booth. I was suddenly aware of how small the inside of it was, it hadn’t seemed so bad the day before with Carl, and Carl was huge in body. Cairo was huge in presence though, and every cell in my body was acutely aware that he was just inches away from me.
“No, we don’t really need one. Everybody stays on site and when they leave, it’s only for a short time,” he replied. “I’ll show you your sleeping quarters after this. You’ll be bunking with a couple other girls, but you have your own bedroom.”
“Oh cool,” I said and didn’t want to tell him I’d be going home every night. In fact, I wanted to ask him where he slept, so I could imagine him just a few feet from me if I decided to spend the night at some point.
This was just temporary though, I told myself again. I had to keep reminding myself that it was just for a couple weeks and I’d have a new job by then.
But why did it feel like I was starting something new, something meaningful, and something life changing?
The Cirque possessed an air of mystery, as if I could almost see movement out of the corner of my eye. There was something mystical at work perhaps, and somehow I was picking up on it. I was being drawn in even against my will.
Or maybe I was just horny as hell for this incredible fire eating tattooed beast of a man.
Either way, I was definitely coming back.
We went over a few cash procedures, it wasn’t rocket science and I picked up on it immediately. He leaned over me to show me where they stocked the register tape and he stopped. He sucked in his breath and said, “Oh shit, that must hurt like a son of a bitch.”
He was looking down at my leg. I followed his gaze and saw a nasty gash open on the side of my knee. I must have gotten it tripping over myself when I’d left, on one of the chairs perhaps. It was gaping, bleeding and probably would hurt like a son of a bitch if I were normal.
“Oh my god, how did that happen?” I gasped in faked surprise, “Ouch!”
“This is a good time to show you where First Aid is located,” he said and offered his arm in support as we crossed the Cirque grounds to a medical trailer. I pretended to limp slightly, just to lean on him a little more than needed. “I hope you don’t decide to sue us for faulty chairs or something. What a terrible thing to happen on your first day.”
“I’ll survive, and I swear, no lawsuit. It was my own fault, I’m such a klutz.”
“Here we are,” he said and surprised me by lifting me into his arms to carry me up the five steps to the First Aid trailer. I suppressed a nervous giggle and did my best to look pained when he opened the door and set me on an examination bed.
“I’ll be fine, I promise,” I told him, “I get hurt all the time and I’m a quick healer.”
“I can see that,” he said and traced the network of scars along my shin, “you do these to yourself?”
I knew what he was thinking, that how could I possibly do all of this by being a simple klutz. People always suspected I’d been beaten or had a terrible childhood to carry such scars, but truth was my life had been great up until my parents had died. I, of course, did have my abnormality, and felt no pain to keep me from walking into shit all the time, but my formative years had been relatively nice. People never realized how much their sense of pain kept them in line, pain was what told you to stop, what gave your body warning to move back or avoid the source of injury.
Not feeling pain might seem like a big plus to some, but it truly wasn’t. I never learned self-preservation. Physically at least, I was closed off emotionally to make up for the lack of feeling on my skin. I would protect myself anywhere I could.
“I did every single one of them to myself,” I confessed, “I wish I could blame anyone else but myself. I grew up on a farm, and I’ve always been a tomboy. Always played sports. You’re probably just used to pretty girly girls, right?”
“You’re not a tomboy now though,” he said and touched the edge of my skirt. “And you’re right, you’re not pretty.”
I couldn’t help it, my face fell and I looked at him with my brows raised, daring him to call me ugly.
What he said made my heart skip a beat though. He looked at me, smiled and told me, “You’re beautiful, and that’s beyond pretty by a country mile.”
I laughed and looked away, at anything, to avoid meeting his gaze. “Well, this isn’t going to fix itself,” I said gently and touched my knee. “It’s starting to hurt pretty bad too.”
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” he said and moved to grab a First Aid kit. He cleaned it up and bandaged it with expert precision.
“You almost seem like you know what you’re doing,” I said and watched his skilled hands finish the job. I was sure if I could feel anything, I would feel relief at his ministrations simply because of his touch.
“I wanted to be a doctor,” he said and packed up the First Aid kit. He placed it back on the shelf and continued. “I even did a couple years of med school in Toronto. But, obviously I’m here...so that didn’t work out.”
He helped me hop down off the bed and I looked up at him, “Did you quit?”
He said, “I did, but only because my mother died and the Cirque was going under without somebody managing the finances and bookings. In short, my family needed me and I was compelled to respond.”
“That’s very noble of you,” I replied and admired his dedication. After my parents had died, my only family was my sister. We all knew she resented me, so I supposed it might be different when the family actually cared about each other.
“Yeah, noble,” he said and laughed, “not really though. It was all guilt. My father knows how to pull those strings is all, and I didn’t want my sisters to be left here on their own.”
“Your sisters work here too?” I asked, “How many siblings do you have?”
“Just two, Paris and Milan. And yes, we were all named after cities, and no, not the cities we were conceived in,” he quickly added when I raised my brows.
“I never would have gone there,” I laughed.
“I saw it in your eyes, cheeky Miss Normal,” he replied with a grin. “So Paris is my next younger sister, she works in part of the sword swallowing act. Milan is the youngest and she’s an acrobat. She sometimes works with the group you so gracefully interrupted today.”
“Interesting,” I said and held his arm again when we left the trailer. He offered to buy me an after-injury drink, and how could I possibly refuse?
We headed over to the staff concession and I fell even harder and a little farther for the man I’d just met.
Chapter Four
My first week sailed by; the days were spent in a whirlwind of ticket sales interspersed with running errands for Carl or avoiding Orion whenever he came looking for me.
I got to know more of the performers, the people who were in the big top tent every night were more along the lines of
acrobats and entertainers. There were clowns, horse and tiger shows, trapeze artists and tight rope walkers.
The sideshow was set in a long tent behind the main stage. It was basically a walk through after the main event, a time for people to see the real freaks up close and a little more personally. They were ushered through though, and not allowed to spend much time on each min performance. The side show performers were more protective about the mystery surrounding their assorted attributes that made them side show worthy.
We had a variety of such performers, two little guys who performed elaborate sword fights, Lara, the giantess and her stage husband, Vivaldi who was even taller than she. There was a man whose body was covered in thick, scaly skin known as the lizard man, Joanna with her luxurious beard. We had twin boys from Central America who were mostly covered with thick, coarse hair and two teenagers, one from China and one from Romania, who had additional limbs.
The night I snuck through, I felt stifled and overwhelmed by the crowds, the nervous, curious energy and exclamations of disgust, but the Freaks themselves fascinated me. Not because of their deformities, but because they seemed so completely at home in their bodies, something I’d never come close to achieving.
I still didn’t know what it was, but Cai’s father unsettled me. He was courteous and charming whenever I saw him, but there was something deeply disturbed about him just under the surface that made me nervous.
He sometimes looked at me like the tigers had, like the only thing keeping him from pouncing on me and devouring me whole was the threat of a whip, a flimsy social construct that dictated he not kill me. I didn’t want to test him too often.
So I avoided him...all while trying to find ways to run into his son.
It was almost a comical scenario if not for the hint of anxiety Orion added to the mix.
I was working late on a Friday, and was scanning the employment ads during a spare moment. The show had started an hour ago, so I was basically here to tell the stragglers that they were too late and push them to purchase tickets for tomorrow.
Nothing in the job market had come up all week, and I knew the Cirque would be heading south to Seattle in the next month.
I felt like packing it all up, letting my apartment go, and follow Cai and my job as they criss crossed the continent.
But the self-preservation portion of my brain that was missing from my body, it completely controlled my emotions. It was on overdrive, flashing warning bells to protect my heart and stay behind. End up homeless if I had to.
But if I couldn’t get a job, I’d end up on my sister’s couch back in Saskatchewan. Or even worse, begging Becs for a place to crash until I got on my feet. And then what, watch Becs flounce around with my ex boyfriend?
Doesn’t seem like I had the greatest set of options.
Part of me felt like running from my old life, but also from the feelings that were developing for Cai.
But if I ran, I’d only end up running right into his arms.
The only place I wanted to be, but the one place that could potentially hurt me the most.
“Hey daydreamer, what’s up Miss Normal?” his voice called to me from the front of my booth. Speak of the Devil...
“Hey,” I smiled. “You want into the show? That will be thirty eight dollars.”
“How about I take you out for a late dinner? A real dinner, away from Cirque? Will that cover the cost of my admission?”
He constantly surprised me with his attention. I’d heard rumours all week of his player ways, he was more apt to love me and leave me than anything else, and yet I couldn’t help my heart’s reaction.
It flip-flopped and sped up as I casually replied, “What do you have in mind?”
“Well, there’s not a lot open at the end of our night, but I do know a pretty good diner just up on Davie Street. It’s got great food, and we can people watch. All the drunks that time of night make for quite a show.”
I pretended to think about it for half a second. I was concerned I might miss the last Skytrain home, but I supposed I could always use my bed at Cirque for once. “Yeah, sure,” I said, “as long as you’re buying.”
“Always,” he replied and winked and was gone.
I blushed hot red, as usual, and glanced over at the girl in the other booth. Erica something, she’d been hired just before me. She was now staring at me with a mix of jealousy and admiration on her face.
I wasn’t used to such attention. I shrugged my shoulders as if to say “who me?”, and turned back to my phone to scan the job ads.
God, more than ever I wanted to get out of Cirque. I was in dangerous territory and I knew it.
The appeal to stay was growing stronger though, not just for Cairo, but being in a place I was normal for the first time in my life. A place I didn’t stand out, a place I felt like I belonged.
But my heart. I must protect my heart. It was the only control I had in my life, keeping my emotions safe, and I took it seriously god dammit. Leaping into a new life terrified me. What was it about Cairo that made all this fly out the window though? Why did I already feel like I was losing myself to him?
I glanced up to Erica’s booth again and smiled when the other girl gave me a solid thumb’s up.
Normalcy was intoxicating. Fitting in was addictive.
Almost as addictive as the way Cai made my heart flutter and my body feel like I was floating two feet off the ground.
I went back to the job ads and looked for somewhere to send my resume as though I hadn’t already made up my mind to stay with Cirque.
As if I hadn’t already given myself permission to leap.
*****
“You ready to go Miss Normal?” Cai asked as he stuck his head in the window of my booth.
“Heck, yes,” I said and immediately regretted my choice of words. It had sounded cuter in my head.
He didn’t seem to notice and held his arm out for me when I left the back of the booth. I shut the door, locked it and went over my night’s end checklist. Carl had been by to collect the deposits, I’d cashed out, logged off and was free to go. I tried to ignore Erica’s grin when we passed her and said good night. I knew I’d have to divulge every detail to the other girl at some point soon, and it felt a little awesome to have a friend other than Becs to talk to about girl things.
It was just after one in the morning when we were seated at Dollars, a fifties inspired diner in one of the busier sections of Vancouver. The place was packed, the music was blasting, and I was feeling a little electric myself. I was on edge, but in a good way, my nerves were on fire with excitement, not anxiety.
I could barely hear him across the table, so he remedied that by moving to my side of the booth.
His thick, muscled leg pressed up against mine and I jumped. He leaned towards me and said, “Oh shit, did I just hurt your knee?”
It took me a moment to clue in that he meant my injured knee, the one that was supposed to hurt.
“Just a little,” I said and looked pained, “but I’ll live.”
“I’m sorry,” he said and ran his hand up my thigh, “I’ll buy you a drink to make up for it, okay?”
“They sell booze here?” I asked.
“Of course. Besides, shouldn’t you know? Isn’t this your city?”
“I live in Richmond, I don’t get out this way that often.” I told him. In fact I’d never been here this late, the most excitement I’d had was following Jason and his band from one shitty dive bar to another in the far outskirts of the Lower Mainland. His music was best suited for barely surviving pubs in Coquitlam or Maple Ridge where they were paid with piss warm beer and cold chicken wings instead of cash.
I kinda hoped Becs was sitting alone at a wobbly table under a Keno sign trying her best to look enthusiastic as the band wailed out some Green Day cover and forgot half the words.
It was okay right now, because I was here with Cai and I could feel the heat of his body against my thigh. Even after he removed his hand, I could f
eel his touch burning on my skin. Or what I imagined burning would be. Only if actual burning felt this good, people would be walking around sticking their hands on stove tops and into the flames to get this sensation flowing through their bodies.
We’d all walk through the flame to feel this fucking amazing.
“Well, you’re missing out. We’d better enjoy it while we can, in most cities we end up on the outskirts, away from the action. That’s why we party so much in the Cirque.”
“Sounds like fun,” I said, trying not to think about being with him, and what it would feel like. My heart was pounding at the thought of it, so dangerous. And inappropriate. And exciting. Oh god, the things I wanted him to do to me.
As much as I knew I couldn’t reach a full release, I craved his touch. As much as I knew it would feel good, but not like other people felt, I needed his fingers tracing my body like a blind man finding my form in the dark. As much as I feared him, I wanted to let him in, all the way, farther than anyone had been before.
As much as I feared his love, I wanted it, needed it. I was gripped with a strange compulsion to see how far we could go, how deep our connection went.
Right now, in such a short time, it felt bone deep. And that intrigued me, mostly because of the why and how of it. Why did I feel this way around him and how did he get so far inside?
“What you having?” the waiter interrupted us with a bored look on his face.
“I’ll have a vodka tonic, and she will have,” Cai looked at me, waiting for me to order.
“I’ll have the same,” I said and felt the warmth of his pleased smile before I saw it.
“A girl after my own heart,” he said, “most girls like sweet cocktails or fizzy wine.”
“I’m a vodka girl. I told you, I’m a tomboy,” I said with a grin.
“You’d better start dressing like one,” he said and played with the hem of my skirt again, “or I might not believe you.”
“I am a tomboy on the inside,” I laughed, “and a girl who needs a job on the outside.”
