Juniper's Ring | h.s.

- clown protegy

"You must have had a mother and a father. There was a life beyond the circus, don't you remember it?"

"Clowns don't have mothers but we had a father."

"What was your father's name?" I prepare to take notes.

"I already told you."

"So, Ronny was your father?" I ask, surprised by his answer.

"Ronny was Puddles' father... but he didn't like us to say so."

He doesn't know life outside of the circus, that or, he doesn't remember it. Maybe Ronny was his father and he doesn't remember his mother. I can't imagine  the ring leader sticking around, with whatever women he had been seeing, for long enough to even meet his child. But, perhaps, Puddles' mother was once a part of the circus.

"So you think the other clowns were your brothers?"

He nods.

I'm not sure if any of this is true, but checking it would be useful. I'm pretty sure they weren't all brothers, judging by all of their appearances being so different and all, but that doesn't necessarily mean that Ronny isn't Puddles' dad. It might help us find out the ring leader's full name and give us an idea of what to look for.

"You know what I always thought was so interesting?" He begins, staring off into space again. "No one really comes to the circus for the clowns but everyone is wants them to be there."

"Well, clowns are a big part of the circus." I sit back, clutching my clipboard.

"No one knew what happened to us." His head drops. "No one heard our cries, no one saw our scars. No one smelt the bottom of our cage, no one tasted the water from the bucket. No one knew us but everyone still hates us."

"What do you mean everyone hated you?" I feel my face furrow in confusion.

"The crowd would throw popcorn at us. At times, we'd try to catch it in our mouths... it was most we'd be fed before dark. Some of the kids would throw lollipops at us. If we ever got close to the edge, they'd spit on us." He went on as if this wasn't anything new for him. "And sometimes, if people paid a little extra... Ronny would let them come and hit us with the big rubber mallet, and it wasn't the softer kind that Chief had."

"So your show was meant to allow people to make fun of you? To hurt you?"

"Anyone coming to see Juniper's Ring was there because they knew what you could do. Ronny sold little bag of fur from the lion's mane, let you ride and whip the baby elephants and of course there was Puddles' Playtime."

"What was Puddles' Playtime?"

His face twists in a painful and his hand grips the seat. This event clearly haunts him.

"Pies... one after another tossed at me. You could hit me across the face with the mallet or just kick me wherever you wanted." His face fell into a look of dispair. "Angry people came to the circus. This was a place for them to really let it out."

"And that was only with you?"

"The other boys were better off in the sense that they weren't so emotional." Puddles looks up at me and sticks his fingers in the corners of his mouth and pulls down to emphasize his frown. This terrifies me but I try to keep my composure. "That's where I got my name... Puddles." He pulls his fingers out of his mouth. "I couldn't help but cry. I can't keep my emotions in. When I feel something, I have to let it out. And most of the time that was either fear or sadness." He looks like he might cry again. "And Ronny didn't like that. He said I needed to toughen up so he let them hurt me until I stopped crying..."

I'm mortified by his story. The severe abuse he received was motivated by someone who he believes is his father — someone who should love him. The pain in his face makes the trauma he received from this so much more apparent.

"I'm so sorry that happened to you." I lean in, trying to look into his eyes.

Tears fall from his eyes. "Puppets live better lives than we did."