Autumn Anecdotes

Carnival Rose (Pt. 1)

Up on the suspended ring, I dance for the cheering circus crowd below. First I hang upside down, then I contort around the circle, a few rounds of spinning, the normal act. See,  I'm a bit of an abnormality, which with any strange thing, there's controversy around. For example, are the roses growing from my eyes real, or are they just a schtick for the carnival to make more money off of. They're very real, and for that, I cannot see instead I hear. I hear the brush of skin on metal, the height I am from the crowd below, even the fact that the same boy is here for the fifth day in a row, cheering.

I finish my act, hanging upside down by one leg, the other leg wrapped around my head. As the crowd disperses, I'm slowly lowered down. The normal autographs are signed and the average praise and comments are taken.

A female voice asks "Are those flowers real?"

Before I can answer, I feel a hand on my face, pulling off a petal.

Screaming in anguish as the equivalent of a chunk of my eye was yanked off of me, I stumble backwards onto the ground.

"Don't do that!" a guy says.

"Geez, I didn't know they were real," the voice retorted back, "It's not my fault."

I heard her light footsteps walking away.

This is why I hate performing in wealthy towns. The rich have no regard for the concept that performers are people too.

"Do you get that a lot?" the same male voice asks, taking my arm to help me up.

The voice curls a bit, almost nervously. From the tone, he's most likely around my age. 17 or so, tall and lean.

"Sometimes," I reply, looking at wherever the sound came from, "I've had worse, though. Some people want the whole rose as a souvenir."

"Man, sorry to hear that."

There was a faint moment of awkward silence.

"So, do you work here?" I ask

"Kinda?" he responds, "My uncle works here and he's asking me to do some of his dirty work."

I laugh a bit, "Ah, I see, and who is this uncle?"

"Ah, he works at the ring toss. Makes a living in scamming, you know?"

A wide grin comes across my face.

"Everyone at the circus makes a living in scamming. We'd be bankrupt if not for the 'noble' boothsmen."
"Everyone lies, huh?"

"Yes sir."

"Even you?"

"Well," I start, "what do you think?"

"What do I think?" he repeated, "I think you lie just enough to still be genuine."
"That's a load of crap." I laugh.

"You think?" he laughs right back, "Hey, do you wanna go to the house of mirrors or something?"

I look at where his voice was coming from, waiting for the realization to sink in.

I'd be lying if I said it didn't take him a minute.

"You're blind, and I'm an idiot."
"Both are correct."

"Hmmmm, how about I treat you to some funnel cake then for being an insensitive jerk?"

"Gladly"

We bought our funnel cake and settled on a nearby bench. I hear birds twitting nearby. I sincerely hope that they didn't poop on this bench, cause this costume isn't easy to wash. 

"So, what's your name?"

"Bartley," he responded, "and you?"

"McKayla, but my attraction name is 'Carnival Rose.' Why do you keep coming to my shows every day?"

There was a short silence. I could almost feel the heat coming from his face, I could only imagine how embarrassed he must've been.

"If you promise not to tell or laugh, I'll tell you the truth."

"It depends on what the truth is there, Bart."
He sharply exhaled in amusement.
"I want to be a dancer too. I was walking by one day on my break and saw a glimpse through the tent and you were twenty feet in the air, dancing and I... I really wanted that."

"So, you want to dance, huh?"

"More than anything."

"So you'd even be willing to go through my personal bootcamp every single day?"

The bench next to me creaked as I suppose he stood up quickly.

"For real!?"

"Sure, I have nothing better to do. Meet me after my last show tomorrow."

The next day, I did my shows and got the regular conversation with the crowd.  The whole "Are those flowers real?" "Are you blind?" "Prove it." nonsense until the crowd dispersed for the day.

"Are ya leaving yet?" Jackie, the announcer for my tent and shows called to me from just outside the tent.

"No, I'm waiting for someone."

"Ay, ya got a special someone?"

"Nah, I already told you, I don't like people like that."

"Alright, alright," he laughed, "Have fun on your platonic gathering!"

He chuckled and walked away.

Few minutes later and light feet came running into the tent and came to an abrupt halt in front of me.

"Bartley, reporting for duty, ma'am."
"No ma'am's neccecery," I shoot back, "Too formal, man."

An hour went by and a week went by, and then three weeks when the carnival was set to pack up and move to the next town. He'd improved so much by then, I couldn't believe it. I knew I was a great dancer, but I didn't know I was this good of a teacher. Granted, I couldn't exactly see what he was doing, but I would bring people in to watch and tell me each move step by step. Flawless. 

We were finishing up practice the day before I had to leave, when the owner of the circus, Charles Day, came into the tent.

"Ah, the Sky Dancing Duo! Finishing up practice I see?"

Mr. Day is one of the few wealthy people I respect. He makes sure to pay all his workers well and he's worked hard to make accommodations for my blindness. He's part of what keeps me in the circus.

"Mr Day, good evening," I greet him, gesturing for the stagehand on staff that day to lower Bart down, "Yeah, we're almost done for the day."

"Ah, very good very good."

"Can I help you with anything."

"Actually, you can," he says as the bleachers creak ever so slightly, making me assume he sat down, "I'd like to offer Bart a job here, and I know he's your prodigy."

"For real?" Bart said, joining us near the stands.

"Yes, I've noticed how the staff flock to watch your practices each day, and I was thinking, if it's okay with McKayla, that the Carnival Rose solo act could become a duo."

That would certainly be a big change. The tightrope routine would be much more difficult with shifting weights on either side, and the hoop act would have to be changed completely. However, the acts have been getting a little lukewarm for me recently, so a change of pace might be nice. Plus, company is always fun, especially when it's Bart.

"I'm in." I say.

"Me too."

"Well then! It's settled! I'll get you a trailer straight away, and start packing, we're going to Provo!"