Voices: Son of the Circus

by E. L. Norry

  I wished I could believe him.

  4.

  I wriggled, blinking hard against a beam of sunlight falling across my face. A heavy overcoat, which had been covering me, slipped to the ground. Feeble sensations from dreams of Mother, George and of sweet flute music came back to me, hazily. I could almost hear its strains on the wind now, like echoing memories.

  So unsettled had my sleep been that it took me a moment to remember where I was: the circus. Unfamiliar and unwelcome, with no Mother and no George. Thinking of them having breakfast together, drinking warm sweet tea, made my throat dry and my feelings wobbly.

  I’d fallen asleep in the small tent housing costumes and props. Larkin was nowhere to be seen. I sat up and rubbed my icy hands together to warm them.

  The entrance was pinned back, and swirling dust motes flashed on rays of morning sun. Clear and crisp air rushed in, along with a small plump man. His coat was brown with a velvet collar, and a brassy-looking chain was draped across his sealskin vest.

  “Welcome! Pablo said his son would be joining us. Wonderful!” He held out a chubby hand that I shyly took. He pumped my hand up and down so hard that I was sure my arm might come off.

  “How did you sleep?” he asked. The man had short, light curly hair and his long face was flexible as dough.

  I let go of his hand and rubbed at the small of my back, sore from the way I’d been lying on the bench. “Terribly!” I grumbled.

  “I admit, the dressing tent is a funny place to take a nap! The sleeping tents are comfier, with blankets and mattresses.”

  “Why are we sleeping in tents at all – aren’t circuses in buildings?” I stood and stretched. “That would be better than this!”

  “Well … we’re on rather a budget these days.” He chuckled, but fidgeted awkwardly. “In the wintertime, if funds allow, yes, we may occupy a building. But Pablo doesn’t like to use temporary ones, not after what happened, unless he’s built it himself.”

  I said quietly, “Oh. The accident?”

  “It happened in a temporary circus due for demolition. Pablo had taken it on at a budget price. He wasn’t to know that the beams had already been removed. The entire thing collapsed with all the people inside. Anyway, let’s not dwell on such a tragedy. Now that the weather’s becoming warmer, it’s agreeable being outside.” His eyes were hazel and kind and his manner gentle.

  “It’s a fine morning out there,” he said, indicating the field through the tent gap. “About time you met our steeds if you’re to be an equestrian like your father, eh? No time like the present.”

  Unable to meet his eye for fear of having him laugh at my question, I asked quietly, “Is he expecting me to do tricks immediately?”

  “I doubt you’ll be turning somersaults tomorrow, but you might have something to show us in a fortnight, especially with that famous Fanque blood flowing through your veins. Your mother was a fine rider too; it was quite something, watching her and your father perform.”

  I didn’t want this stranger speaking of my mother. She wasn’t a circus performer to me! She was mine, all mine – the woman who cooked me porridge in the morning and mended my socks at night and stroked my forehead when I was ill.

  “Who are you?”

  “Who am I?” Chuckling, he put his hands on his hips, before looking around as if addressing a captive crowd. “Fancy the lad not knowing who I am!”

  “I’m sorry.” I straightened my clothes. “Sir,” I added, in case he was important and I was being disrespectful.

  “Don’t you mind, boy. Nothing vexes me and I am out of costume. I’m Brown the Clown. A talking one mind you, not a tumblin’ one. Come and meet the rest of the motley troupe.”

  The rest? I gulped, not sure I was ready to face everyone at once. Maybe I could keep Brown here talking for a while longer.

  “Did you always want to be a clown?”

  He smiled, lips stretching wide. “Oh no! I started off on the tightrope, but Pablo said I made him laugh so, and since one never knows what will tickle an audience, I started making up ditties and the next thing I knew, a clown I was! Come along – we don’t want to keep Pablo waiting.”

  I rubbed my cheek where the bench had left grooves. I reached down for the overcoat and folded it slowly. My reticence must have been obvious because Brown said hastily, “There’s not many here, just them lot who are always with us. They’re friendly enough. Some might have airs and graces, that’s only to be expected with artistes, but we’re more like a family, I’d say. Other performers, the ones we hire in from adverts, stay in lodgings.”

  “How far are we from town?”

  “Cawthorne’s not too far, couple of miles. Come along.”

  I followed Brown out into the morning light. We trudged across a large open field surrounded by grasslands. Brown chattered, his sunny manner a marked contrast from Larkin’s tempestuous nature. I could easily imagine Brown making crowds laugh.

  “Pablo’s quite the handy man. He built his living wagon himself to travel round the country. See?”

  I looked across the grass to where six wagons were clustered. One of them had a roof and sides made from thin sheets of iron, like an enclosed trailer, built on a wagon frame. Was this considered luxury? How many weeks had Mother said I’d be here?

  “That thing? Looks like a windowless box on wheels.”

  “A windowless box it may be, boy,” Brown said sharply. “But with a sleeping area, heating stove and place to sit, it serves Pablo well enough. In the summer it becomes baking hot, so he prefers to sleep out under the stars. The rest of us sleep in the sleeping tents: one for the ladies and another for the men.”

  My stomach lurched. Even Brown must have heard its grumble because he patted my arm. “Must fancy something to eat about now, eh? Let us fetch some breakfast.”

  A few hundred yards in front of us was another tent, at least ten times the size of the one we’d just left. This must be the circus tent. Although I didn’t want to be here, I couldn’t help but be impressed – it was twice as tall as our house! The thick canvas rippled and swayed with the wind, as if it had a life of its own and was taking a deep breath.

  Brown rubbed his hands together. “Exciting, eh?”

  I didn’t want anyone getting the idea that I wanted to be here. If they thought that, I’d never be sent home. And that was all I really wanted – to be at home.

  “I’m just … cold.”

  “Spring will be here soon enough. You wait and see. The daffodils are already making themselves known. There’ll be bluebells before we know it.”

  A huddle of people stood near the large trailers that were in a circle, with boxes and trunks balanced on them, in the shade of the big tent. In the centre was a fire in an iron basket and a bubbling pot that smelled of cabbage and mutton.

  People stared as we approached, and my cheeks roared red. I turned to ask Brown something, but he’d gone! Everyone moved aside to reveal Pablo. He stroked his bushy moustache and came forward with his arms held out wide.

  5.

  “My boy!” He beamed and I felt warmer seeing his bright smile directed at me. “I doubt you got much sleep on that bench, eh? But you were in such a slumber I didn’t wish to wake you, so instead I covered you with an overcoat. Now, you’ve met Brown the Clown.” He pointed back towards the people by the wagons. “And that’s Polly, Clara, Edwin and Hugo and Sid – they do acrobatics, juggling and riding, among other things. You’ll get to know everyone as we go on. Now, though, I want you to meet my horses.”

  I tried not to stare at everyone, but I’d never seen such a variety of people before and my body hummed with the thrill of it! Maybe I wasn’t so different after all.

  Together, we walked towards the big tent.

  Pablo cleared his throat and glanced sidelong at me. “You don’t remember me, do you?” he asked.

  “Should I, sir?”

  “I told your mother that you wouldn’t. A shame.” He sighed, sounding disappointed. “We’
ll have to begin again.”

  With a flash, like a blast of a horn, I heard Mother’s voice echoing from yesterday: ‘You have met Pablo before, Ted. Do you not remember? You were very small. Perhaps three or four?’

  And, out of nowhere, a memory shot into my mind, the same images that often troubled me in sleep: a man and me riding. Riding, riding, and explosions of thunder and BOOM! Banging on the cobbles: bang, bang and I’m jolted, needles of rain like scratches slashing my face. I’m bouncing, but it’s not a carefree bounce, it’s hard, and rough itchy cloth is squeezed against my cheek and it … hurts.

  “Here we are,” Pablo said, shaking me from my musing.

  From inside, the circus tent seemed even bigger, if that was possible. Outside, it had looked vast, but inside was as spacious as a church.

  A circular area was filled with sawdust, and benches lined around the outside. I tried to imagine the place as crowded and bustling as it had been on that terrible night at Aston Park.

  “Impressive, isn’t it?” Pablo mistook my paralysis for wonderment. “It’s a pity you don’t remember being here before, with me. You liked nothing more than to play in the sawdust with my pocket watch.” He brought it out and waved it at me but I barely glanced at it.

  I only remembered that of which I dare not speak: rattling cobbles and clattering hooves and banging and fear like I’d never known. My thoughts swirling and repeating: Where am I? Where are we going? Where is Mother? And then, the world tilted and I was falling, falling and scraping along the ground and bleeding before I was yanked, grabbed by my collar, nails digging into my neck, drawing blood, as I was pulled roughly up and slammed hard against something. The road?

  He sighed and tucked his watch away. “That’s the ring. The horses are stabled round the back, still inside the tent. Come.”

  I walked behind him, watching the way he swaggered, wondering if I’d be able to imitate his confident walk, or even if I’d want to.

  What kind of man was my father? A man who had selfishly tried to save money by hiring a faulty circus building? Or a man scarred by a lonely childhood growing up in a workhouse? Being dark-skinned, did he feel alone and left out, as I often did? With the death of his first wife, and loss of his son, perhaps he’d tried to make a new family, but just found the lure of the circus life too strong? Was he all of these things?

  I wasn’t sure yet.

  A section like a corridor had been roped off and these made up the stables, where the horses and ponies were divided up into makeshift stalls. Pablo stopped at a sectioned-off stall and ran his hands along the neck of a huge black horse that whinnied and stamped a hoof.

  “This is Bessie. She brought us here last night. We’ve had a long and fruitful relationship, Bessie and I.”

  “They don’t seem to have much space.”

  “Each stall is about three metres by three. Don’t you worry; they can move around and lay down without restriction.”

  I lurched back when Bessie tossed her head. Her nostrils flared, steamy air shooting out. Pablo dug into his jacket pocket and brought out half a turnip. “Why don’t you feed her, eh?” He held the turnip out to me.

  And have that beast tear my hand off? No, thank you!

  “You’d be better placed to feed her. She knows you.”

  He scrutinised me carefully, before laying the turnip on his palm. He lifted it towards Bessie’s fleshy lips, which shuddered as she chomped down.

  “We’ve eight horses and five ponies. I used to have more but those were … different times.” Pablo stroked her mane. “It’ll be Larkin who’ll instruct you, with my participation. The trick with riding is balance. Balance and confidence. Trust and respect the horse and they’ll afford you the same courtesy,” he said.

  Oh, was it that easy?

  “That’s the secret to riding, is it?” I couldn’t help myself; I probably sounded impudent.

  “There are no secrets, Ted. Eventually, the horse gains trust in the rider, and becomes used to whatever you introduce. Stroke first their neck, then the cheeks, and finally the forequarters. Never walk around the back, unless you want to risk a kick! Patience, understanding and … turnips. There is no other way with a horse, and never was. The most important thing – like with any animal – is kindness. They can be trained to do anything, if they’re treated with kindness.” He ruffled my hair. “Like sons.”

  Instinctively I jerked backwards, and his hand stopped mid-air. His mouth turned down a little. Had I gone too far and made him angry? There was a long pause.

  “Ted. I am grateful that you are here. I’m … looking forward to us performing together, eventually. My son.”

  The word ‘son’ weaved its way into my heart. I let it sit there a while, seeing how it settled. Surprisingly, it didn’t feel stuck in my craw at this moment. Instead, the word ‘son’ seemed more like a stone that had been warmed all day by the sun, and the residual heat spread through my chest, filling me up.

  “Breathe in deep through your nose,” Pablo said, placing his hand on my shoulder.

  I inhaled deeply. The smell of manure, hay and sweat was so strong it turned my stomach.

  “There’s no animal that smells as good as a horse, you agree?”

  I did not! But instead of saying this truth, I asked, “How long have you been riding?”

  “Apprenticed to Batty’s Circus when I was ten years old. Before that, I’d not ridden. Ha! He had me up on a horse quick. I first performed in the ring when I was eleven, the day after Christmas.”

  A faraway look swam into his eyes. “There’s simply nothing that compares to being on a horse when she trusts you. You’ve seen horses at the circus before, haven’t you?”

  I’d seen them thunder round the ring fast enough to kill a man and had imagined being trampled under those hooves … I’d barely been able to watch. But Pablo didn’t want to hear this – I was his son and he wanted me to learn his trade. I would never be able to admit my fear and dislike of horses, or the circus. I decided to state a fact I admired, and to leave my own feelings to one side.

  “The men balanced on horses as if their feet were glued fast.”

  He smiled knowingly. “No glue, or ropes. When a horse canters round, it’s the sheer speed that keeps the rider upright. Stops us from falling off. I can pick up handkerchiefs from the ground while Bessie’s at full speed. Larkin does headstands in the saddle. I’ve ridden astride two horses at the same time while playing a pipe! Do you know what I did in my youth, m’boy?” He leaned into me, nudging me gently with his shoulder, grinning.

  “No, sir.”

  “I performed in Manchester in front of three thousand people, leapt on horseback over a coach placed lengthways, and taught the ponies to waltz too!” He gazed upwards as if remembering that exact moment. His voice was joyous. He truly loved this life. Just yesterday I hadn’t wanted to know anything about the circus, but his passion was starting to sweep me along.

  I asked, despite myself, “What does it feel like?”

  “Why … it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt. Power and speed … like you can do anything. Like that’s all there is. There’s no time to consider anything else. All you have, or will ever need, is all there in that one moment. Bliss.”

  Stepping away from Bessie, he pulled out his pocket watch. Rubbing a thumb across the burnished gold, he added softly, “My home is in the ring. I’m at peace there.” Then the circus showman, all bluff and bluster, took centre stage again. “Bess here loves to dance. When the band plays, she’ll trot, pull up her legs and dance along. It’s a splendid sight!”

  “Pablo?” I whispered.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m very hungry. And … I need to … go.” I crossed my legs hard, and jiggled up and down a little.

  “Oh!” He stood back, startled. “There’s a bank of trees behind the tent you slept in. After, find Polly – she’ll fetch you some tea, and bread and cheese.”

  6.

  After I’d relieved myself,
I crossed the field and tried to take everything in: the crisp morning air, the stony ground and dry grass crunching under my boots. This was my home now, for the next few months, whether I liked it or not. This was no dream, or mistake.

  “Oi!”

  I turned to see Larkin cartwheeling across the field until he was in front of me, upright and breathless, with a tint to his cheeks and his eyes so dark they were almost black, flashing and sparkling.

  How did he throw himself through the air like that and land on his feet, time and time again? What went through his mind when he was upside down? Wasn’t he worried about hurting himself? It wasn’t natural!

  He was showing off. Trying to show me everything he could do that I could not.

  “Ready, Ted? We can start your training. You’ve lots to learn. We’ll begin by getting you used to the horses.”

  I threw up my hands, exasperated. “I have had nothing to eat yet!”

  “Oh, fine,” he grumbled. “S’pose we need our bellies filled before we start leaping about.”

  At the fire, I held my hands out for warmth. Polly sat on the steps of Pablo’s wagon, her fingers nimbly weaving a needle and thread in and out of shiny material that was in her lap. She was tall and thin, with dark hair coiled atop her head, like a length of rope. She looked older than us, maybe sixteen or seventeen.

  “Pol, be a dear,” Larkin wheedled. “Can we trouble you to get us some … provisions?” From the way he chewed on his lower lip and couldn’t quite meet her eye, it was obvious he was sweet on her. George had started to act like this around a girl who lived down our road; I recognized the signs.

  She glanced up at him and peered down her nose. “I’ll fetch you some tea, but what are you gonna do for me, Master Larkin? You know very well that I’m still waiting on that shilling from last Sunday!”

  “I’ll pay you back, I will,” Larkin crowed, dancing away from her outstretched palm over to me. “Met the newest member?” He grabbed my sleeve, tugging me forward, and I stumbled.