The Trapeze Swinger

2.0

I watched Birdie leave the same way I had my mother: standing on the steps of my home with a heart broken in my cupped hands, only this time there was no Lou to stand in the way so that I wouldn't have to watch. There was no police car with it's blue and red lights flashing, no neighbours standing on their porches watching the spectacle of it all. Birdie had left with her head dipped where Mum's was held high, but it didn't matter. Not in the end.

Neither of them looked back.

I could hear the door creaking open tentatively behind me, 2D clearing his throat uncomfortably as he waited for me to turn around and yet I couldn't. If the boy even so much as looked at my face he'd be terrified, too terrified to answer the question that I asked as I stood watching the beginning of the end.

"Did you hear that?"

He played dumb, faltering as he responded, "Uhh hear what?"

"Did you hear what Birdie said?" I repeated, tone more forceful this time. There was a pause before he finally answered.

"Yeah, I did," he sighed, and I turned to finally look at him with all the grief-stricken pain on my face plain to see. He flinched, eyes half lidded and sad.

"I love that girl but she's wrong," I defended him fiercely, gaze heavy on his, "She's wrong."

"It doesn't matter, Sloane."

I went to snap that it did but he'd already disappeared from the doorway, and when I followed him into the darkness of the trailer I found him curled up on the bed and facing the wall, disinterested it seemed in any further discussion of the matter. There was no arm reaching out to pull me closer as I lay on my side of the double bed, no sound of his heartbeat against my ear to lull me to sleep. Instead there was only the two of us in the dark, waiting for the sun to rise.

------------------

Returning to work the next day was hard, as if walking into the fairgrounds themselves was physically aversive now that both Lou and Birdie would no longer be there. I had gone to my brother's caravan that morning, yet had only stood as a complete coward at the bottom of the steps, unable to move any further towards the misery emanating from within.

Sitting numb and listless at the front of the Quick-Shot Clown Pop booth window, I could only stare blindly across at The Switchback ride, motionless without anyone to operate it. Sooner or later Mr Pot would be notified, and Lou would most definitely be fired, but that was only if the police didn't acquire a warrant and raid the place to find us first.

Unable to find the will to care about either at that current moment, I chain-smoked lying slumped over the bench with my head resting on top of my folded arm, daydreaming of a world where things had occurred differently. Lou had gone to university and studied something to do with drama and theatrics, so he could put all his humour and story-telling skills to use. DeWitt had offered us his deal but we'd said no and moved out of Whitehawk to somewhere nice like Eastbourne except not have to live in a caravan. Birdie's grandma hadn't gotten sick, and if she had Birdie's family would have been around to help the old woman instead of her. Then Birdie would have been able to stay with us, and write books instead of just reading them, and they'd get to grow old and grey together until the end of their days.

I wanted it so badly it hurt, and yet wishing for things in my experience never made them so. I closed my eyes, flicking my cigarette butt over the edge of the booth window and onto the grass below.

"Trying ta start a Spring bonfire or somefink?"

I opened one eye tiredly to see 2D looming over me, stomping out the still smouldering end with his forehead wrinkled in concern. I sat up, shaking my head tiredly before running a hand through the matted nest of dark hair on my head. The boy sighed, seemingly unsure of how to deal with such a subdued and disinterested version of me.