Freakshow

by Jaden Wilkes

  “Are you saying my father hired you for your looks?” It was his turn to smile. I knew he was teasing me, but on some level, I also knew being a pretty girl made it easier to find work. That being said, I hadn’t exactly looked the part during my interview with Orion. I didn’t know exactly why he’d hired me.

  “I’ll have you know I was dressed very badly the day I was hired,” I said in mock indignation.

  “You couldn’t hide your beauty if you tried, and my father is known for picking the best looking girls he can find for the front of the show.”

  I didn’t know if I should be flattered or creeped out, but it didn’t matter as long as it was Cai saying it, and not Orion.

  Our drinks arrived and we ordered a couple burgers with homemade onion rings and our conversation flowed as smoothly as the Fraser River through Delta. Not a ripple on the surface, it was deep and easy.

  We each ordered another drink with dinner, and another halfway through. I was glowing warmly when he stopped in mid-sentence, looked at my startled face and said, “Hang on, you’ve got something.”

  I froze, praying I hadn’t bitten my tongue or lip, there was nothing worse than a mouthful of blood when one was trying their very best to be sexually appealing. He raised his thumb to the corner of my mouth and swiped very slowly, making contact with my lips. I melted, my body felt warm and my insides felt like Jell-O. I wanted to laugh, to kiss him, to take his thumb in my mouth and suck it.

  Instead I watched him, my mouth agape and my breath caught in my throat as he moved his thick thumb to his own lips and sucked a smear of ketchup off it.

  His lips were so full and luscious, I could almost feel them on my own as he wrapped them around his thumb.

  I managed to breathe out when he smiled at me, turned away and ordered two more drinks.

  “Fuck me,” I whispered under my breath as he spoke with the waiter and ordered a dessert for the two of us along with our vodka tonics.

  “What’d you say?” he asked when he turned back.

  “Nothing,” I lied and stared at his lips when he spoke. His dark facial hair encircled them perfectly, he must trim it daily to keep it looking so tidy. I wondered if it tickled when he kissed, and I wondered if he liked to go down.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked me and took an onion ring off my plate. He bit into it and I watched him chew like it was the most sensual thing I’d ever seen.

  It could just be the most sensual thing I’d ever seen. I’d kill to be that onion ring right then, being devoured and sucked and teased with his tongue.

  “Nothing much,” I said coolly, and grabbed the last couple bites of my burger to distract myself. I chewed thoughtfully and mentally sized myself up beside him and came up lacking in all departments. He was perfection, I was disaster. Somehow the two of us seemed to work though.

  “You’re just all fulla nothing tonight,” he replied and licked the greasy film off his fingers.

  “I guess it’s just pretty late,” I said and thought, no, just sitting here imagining my body covered in onion ring grease and your lips and tongue sucking me everywhere.

  “Come on, it’s not that late. You’re young and beautiful, you should be used to being out all hours of the night,” he said and smiled.

  I grinned and felt a blob of mayo slipping down my chin. I froze, unsure what to do, sitting there grinning like an idiot in front of the hottest man I’d ever been around. A real man, thick and muscled, not like Jason who had been a poser. A boy in his dad’s clothes. Cairo was the real deal.

  Cairo seemed like he could cut a tree down, build me a cabin and fuck me until I forgot my own name. If I could feel it. God damn, there were few moments my condition really bothered me, like deep to the core, and this was one of them.

  I wanted to believe he could make me orgasm, make me lose my mind and hit the level of intensity that other women seemed to find when fucking...but it wasn’t for me.

  Still. It would be nice giving it a try.

  Cairo smiled, a slow, lazy smile like he knew there was something more going on here. Some deep, steady undercurrent flowing between the two of us.

  “You missed a spot,” he said and reached his thumb up to touch my chin again. I forced myself to close my mouth, to not seek his thumb and suckle it like a baby animal. Fuck, what has gotten into me?

  “Thanks,” I said breathlessly and noticed he hadn’t removed his thumb, the thick, rough pad of it rested on the divot between my chin and lower lip. I could imagine him circling my clit with the wide end of it, I imagined that I might be able to feel it, feel the roughness and insistent force behind his strokes.

  I’d been let down before though, in the past my imagination always ended up being far greater than the naked fumblings that I’d experienced.

  He pulled his thumb back and said, “Anytime,” and reached for another onion ring. I was dumb with lust, simply speechless in my erotic imaginings over something as insignificant as him rubbing a slip of food off my face.

  It didn’t feel insignificant though, it felt real, it felt good, and it felt terrifying. If I was this on edge at simply imagining him touching me, and he did manage to break through the invisible barrier that disconnected me from my pleasure receptors, what would that mean to my heart?

  I concentrated on my food and forced myself to make some more small talk. Where he was from, where he grew up, what he wanted to be when he grew up, how long he’d been growing the beard, etc etc. We compared tattoos and I had to admit being impressed with his. We compared scars and I outnumbered him ten to one.

  We talked about past relationships and I remained fairly tight lipped, not wanting to disclose my recent betrayal. It still bothered me too much, and it still made me feel like I had been at fault. I didn’t want his sympathy or his judgement.

  Finally he sighed, looked at me, stretched and put his arm over my shoulder. “You’re a very difficult woman to read, Miss Normal,” he said and gave me what could only be classified as a friendly squeeze.

  I knew I was being difficult, but it wasn’t deliberate. I was naturally guarded, and the way he made me feel left me breathless and confused. Part of me wanted to throw myself into his arms, and the other part wanted to run.

  Right now, running was the top contender and I fumbled for my purse when the cheque was deposited on the table.

  “I don’t mean to be,” I told him and reached for the bill. He snatched it up before I could reach it and removed his arm from my shoulder at the same time.

  The weight of his arm on my body had been comforting, I felt oddly exposed now that it was gone. But I still wanted to flee these unusual mixed up emotions.

  “Don’t even think about it, I told you I’d cover this. You might be a mystery, but I’m straight up, and I’ll never let a beautiful woman pay for my meal,” he said.

  We left the restaurant and found ourselves walking in a light rain on a very busy sidewalk. I hooked my hand in his arm again like it was the most natural thing in the world. I didn’t even bother to limp slightly, pretending my knee hurt as an excuse to touch him. I needed to hold him so I didn’t run, although every time I was jostled towards him by the crowd, I felt jumpy, like I was a frightened horse about to bolt.

  “This is nice,” I finally admitted, “Thank you for taking me out.”

  “Any time, Miss Normal,” he said, “I hate to admit it, but I don’t get out that much either. Work keeps me pretty involved and we travel so much I don’t get to explore each city as much as I’d like to.”

  “What do you do exactly?” I asked, “I mean for the Cirque. You eat fire and all that, but what else?”

  “My father is the showman of the family, don’t get me wrong, I love my fire act, but he relies on me for the business end of things. I handle the logistics of moving the entire Cirque from place to place, I oversee payroll, human resources, permits, insurance...okay I can already see your eyes rolling back in your head. Yes, I deal with all the boring shit.”


  “I swear I was just trying to stop a sneeze,” I said and held my finger to my nose. The familiar tickle surfaced again and I couldn’t help myself, I sneezed with a tiny expulsion of noise, like a dying mouse under a heavy boot.

  “Fuck,” he said and I raised my brows “You even sneeze beautifully. Is there anything you don’t do well?”

  “Oh so very much,” I laughed and took his arm again when he offered it. “But seriously, I don’t think that’s the boring side of things, it’s the necessary side of things. It’s admirable that you’re putting your own life on hold to keep everything together.”

  “So many people rely on the Cirque,” he said, “it’s not like most of them could go get a job in an office if we shut down, you know? I can’t leave them hanging, not when most of them are like family. If we didn’t take care of them, they’d probably be hunted...” his voice trailed off and he let the sentence hang unfinished.

  “Hunted?” I said, “It’s not the eighteen hundreds, that doesn’t happen anymore, does it?”

  “No, of course not,” he replied, a little too fast. “I was just being melodramatic.”

  I wondered what he’d been about to say, but I was truly impressed with how much he had taken on and for all the right reasons. I felt almost ashamed that I had fled my own sister the moment I was old enough, but what else could I have done?

  I sometimes thought about my sister, what her life was like now, but never had the courage to send her a text or add her on Facebook. It felt unnatural to reach out to the woman who blamed me for our parent’s death. They’d been driving home from yet another series of my medical appointments when they’d been hit head on by a drunk driver.

  I’d been in the hospital at the time it happened, and hadn’t been able to get out for months. By the time I got back, their farmhouse was sold and my sister was living in a one-bedroom apartment close to the college. I was an unwelcome guest, and had hung around long enough for it to be legal to leave.

  I wondered what it would be like to have a family as close as Cairo’s, even if his father was a bit odd. I wanted to meet his sisters soon, to gauge him as a brother and find out more about him as a man.

  We made it back to the Cirque long after the last SkyTrain would have left. I was totally fine with it though, I let Cairo walk me to my trailer like a nineteen fifties teenager. The tension was thick between us when we parted ways, but we seemed to agree on an unspoken understanding that we wouldn’t take it there yet. We wouldn’t take it to the next level with a kiss.

  As disappointed as I was, I was grateful for this, as it allowed me to calm the part of me that wanted to run. It allowed me to come down so to speak, to take a deep breath and look at the situation logically.

  I lay on my bed, surprised at how comfortable and homey my room was, and came to one simple conclusion just before I fell asleep.

  Where Cairo was concerned, logic held no power. In a realm ruled by my increasingly uncontrollable heart, sensible decisions were trampled under the fierce pounding of my heart as I thought about his lips, his tongue, and those eyes. Those damn eyes of his.

  Logic was gone, and chaos seemed about to rule.

  Chapter Five

  I didn’t see Cairo when I went to breakfast the next morning, and he was sorely missed all day as our paths didn’t seem to cross even once.

  I told Erica all that had happened, and protested when the other girl didn’t believe me that I hadn’t even kissed our hot boss. I promised to tell her the moment anything happened, and the two of us made plans to go for drinks before we left Vancouver.

  I took the SkyTrain home after my shift and felt a little bit lonely once I got back to my apartment.

  I convinced myself it was logical to let the place go, the Cirque was leaving in nine days and it seemed perfectly reasonable to give up my apartment and most of my belongings and hit the road with them.

  I craved Becs’ advice, and I loathed my friend for ruining our friendship. I half considered texting her and forgiving her just to have somebody to talk to. I wanted to go on and on about Cairo and his muscular arms, his gorgeous tattoos and the fact that he seemed almost as interested in me as I was in him.

  I couldn’t fathom sharing him with Becs though, there was a stab of jealousy when I thought about the two of them meeting and I felt a little rage tantrum build when I thought about Becs scooping Cai from under my nose the way she had with Jason.

  I checked my phone and Becs hadn’t texted that day. Or the last couple of days. I wondered if Becs had finally gotten the hint, or if she’d finally decided to move in with Jason and every drop of guilt had been fucked out of her by then.

  Either way, I made myself okay with it. I had no other choice really, I didn’t want either one of them back in my life at this point other than as an audience for my tales of Cairo’s amazing self. And if I needed people for that, I would make new friends elsewhere.

  I packed up a few personal mementos and looked around the place.

  Once it had felt bright and cheery, and I’d taken great pride in having an apartment of my own.

  Now it felt dingy and cold, I could see dust motes dancing in the light of a lamp and saw finger marks in the layer of dust on the nightstand.

  It wasn’t much bigger than the room the Cirque provided for me, and it was much less luxurious.

  I went to my dresser and packed anything I’d worn in the past six months and stuffed the rest into garbage bags for goodwill. I did the same with my closet and gained momentum as I moved from room to room.

  Within a couple hours my apartment was almost packed. I was a little saddened to realize that there wasn’t much keeping me in Richmond after all.

  I went to my neighbour’s apartment and knocked, knelt and petted her friendly little cat one last time.

  “Can I help you?” the neighbor asked as she opened her door. The cat sped through my legs and disappeared into the apartment.

  “I’m moving,” I blurted with no ceremony. “Do you need anything?”

  “What have you got?” the girl asked suspiciously. I suddenly hated this about the city. Even in my condition, I had a sense of community growing up in a small farming town. After my parent’s death, I’d lost the connection I’d had with my friends as I’d been driven into myself by my sister’s constant taunts.

  I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed it until this past week, with the people from Cirque. They’d welcomed me into their midst, in spite of me being normal to them. I wanted that community again, I wanted family.

  “A little of everything, you wanna come take a look?” I asked.

  The girl hesitated, then grabbed her keys and said, “Yeah, sure.”

  I lead her back to the apartment and stood inside. The girl walked in, looked around and said, “Where’s the stuff?”

  “Everything,” I said and pointed to my three suitcases, “except that pile.”

  “Everything? Are you kidding?” the girl asked.

  “Not kidding, I’m moving, it’s all yours if you want it.”

  “My name’s Tia,” she said and stuck out her hand. I shook it and smiled.

  “Liv,” I replied, “sorry we never spoke before this.”

  “Me too,” Tia agreed. “I keep my head down in the city though, you know? People are such weirdos and you just never know who’s going to end up being some crazy stalker.”

  I laughed, “Can’t argue with you there.”

  “So where are you moving to?” Tia asked and started loading up my things. It was disconcerting, watching the other girl take my stuff away, but it was freeing at the same time. I wasn’t really attached to any of it, even the mementos given by boyfriends or my former best friend, Becs. It was almost cathartic, a rebirth. I was shedding my old skin and becoming something new.

  “I’m running away and joining the circus,” I replied.

  Tia laughed as though she thought it a joke. I didn’t bother explaining.

  Tia called a couple friends over and the
five of us hauled the contents of my apartment to Tia’s over the course of a couple hours. Tia’s looked like a thrift store by the time we were done, but she seemed pleased to receive the contents of my unwanted life.

  To thank me, Tia and her friends insisted on buying me dinner, then drinks and more drinks. At the end of the night, Tia offered me the couch for the night now that I was essentially homeless.

  It was strange, falling asleep on my cast-off sofa, room spinning from too much vodka and a familiar cat purring on my chest as I dozed.

  I should have really talked to Tia months ago.

  I smiled and drifted off, a brand new life was waiting for me in the morning.

  *****

  I crept out before anyone was awake, including the cat. I left my apartment keys on the counter in my former kitchen, texted my landlord and effectively gave my notice. I didn’t bother leaving a forwarding address, he would probably keep my damage deposit anyways.

  I took the earliest SkyTrain to the station nearest the Cirque and wandered through the front gates at a little after seven in the morning. Carl’s boyfriend nodded at me as I walked by, like there was absolutely nothing going on.

  Like I hadn’t just gone completely mad, dumped all my shit on my neighbor, and packed just enough to survive on the road.

  Like I hadn’t just given up the life I knew to take a chance on the life that might be. Like I hadn’t just given up my solitude for a chance at community.

  My heart was pounding by the time I got to my trailer and unpacked, putting my clothes in my new dresser and closet, and curled up on what was to be my bed until I felt it was time to leave.

  I had done it. I had changed my life for the better. I hoped.

  And there was a little voice in the back of my head whispering that I would be closer to Cairo now, I would be able to spend time near him and see what happened.

  If anything. The dominant voice scoffed at my dreaming and thought I’d be better off worrying about life with a bunch of people I hardly knew. Or the fact that I’d packed it all in to search for a surrogate family.