When the Circus Comes to Town: Part Two

    The four boys lay on their stomachs in the darkness, their heads peeking under the skirt of the brightly lit circus tent, somehow expecting to see the worst. But no, what they saw proved to be quite the treat. The lovely trapeze girls were walking near where the boys lay undiscovered. Ma had once said that show people, especially the women, were all frauds. They presented themselves as beautiful on the stage or screen; however, if you ever got a closer look, you would see that it was all due to heavy makeup and tight girdles. That's all it was. They were far from attractive. Ma was definitely wrong about that, at least in this particular case. Those girls were something to behold. Though Orvil hadn't yet been burdened with the curse of hormones, he could recognize true works of art. He longed to see more of the same.

    Much to the boy's disappointment, a troop of clowns emerged through a gap in a partition. Their enormous shoes made wet flopping sounds. They pendulumed their arms in exaggerated swings. And those thick gloved hands. How could they even pick up even a large item during their circus act? Orvil craned his head up to get a look at their faces. He wondered how anyone could find their appearance funny. Sure, the amusing antics of clowns could distract from their disturbing features during performances, but how could it last? Yet, these clowns ruled in the kingdom of terror. Even beyond the garish face paint, the repulsive distortions of the noses and ears should bring screams instead of laughter. People are weird, reflected Orvil. Maybe the average person did not see the nightmare that he could see in those grotesque faces.

    

    Finally, the last individual to come into view was the ringmaster. His showmanship was on display even after the performance was over. He strutted into the center of his troop, his expressive arms seeming to conduct a silent orchestra. He came to a dramatic stop and bowed deeply. Even years later, Orvil could not figure out just what he was seeing at that moment. At the lowest point of the bow, the ringmaster removed his hat and face. They slid off as one with a slurp from what must be his head. Then, the ringmaster's head exploded into a ball of grey writhing tendrils as he returned to stand erect. They squirmed like unhappy worms, trying to pull free from where they were each anchored on the head. With each individual tug, a tentacle would squirt out a nasty green liquid mist that hung in the air for a moment. The boys must have all gasped, but it went unheard.

    

    The master spoke to the assembly in a liquid, unintelligible voice. The ringmaster continued talking as he removed one spotless white glove with the other, then removed the second glove with a similar array of crawling things that made up the rough outline of a human hand.

   

     The lovely girls staggered back, placing their delicate hands to their faces. Each of their dark eyes flashed a spark of light. The clowns' shoulders shook in amusement at whatever was said. Then, they began the disturbing task of removing their own costumes. The closest one to the boys hopped on one oversized shoe, trying to remove the other. It finally came free as he hop-stumbled into one of his colleagues. The shoe was not oversized after all. The enormous foot turned out to be of similar size. The victim of the collision shoved the hopper away with an ungloved and unnatural hand, three fingers attached to the palm and something like a potato for a thumb.

    

    The shoeless clown flap-walked towards the tent wall near the boys. They noticed for the first time a mirror dangling from a wire. The clown reached into one of many pockets, drawing out a handkerchief. It dabbed at its face at first, then commenced scouring the white and red makeup from its face. What color the skin was underneath was hard to describe, but the thing that stood out was that the sickening nose and ears could not be removed. All the exaggerations in the costume and makeup only sheathed the bulbous creature underneath.

    

    Ovil feared for the safety of those girls. He had a brief fantasy of his heroic attack on the closest fiend, going at it with his fists in the old one-two. He imagined the clown going down with its huge feet bicycling in the air, unable to get back up. Then maybe he would use a single right cross to take out the rest, toppling like dominos. Then would come the rescue of the fair maidens, and his brothers could help if they wanted to. He glanced at the three brothers and read the same fantasy on their faces.

   

    He prepared to make his move before the others could. He wiggled the rest of the way under the skirting, crouching behind some boxes. Soon, the others were at his side. Grant snatched at his shirt, pulling him back. Irritated, Orvil reeled around, preparing to give the first punch to his brother. He saw a new look of terror veiled his face. Grant shook his head; his free hand trembled in fear. He pointed past Orvil in the direction of the girls. Dread and realization enveloped the small boy. He looked back toward those angelic creatures, knowing and dreading what he would see.

    

    Those masks were so very life-like. Orvil tried to keep his focus there and on the elaborate wigs that each girl pulled away. He failed almost immediately. They were not women, not even ugly women. The cadaverous faces oozed with mucus. The skeletal hands were black and clawed. And where a boy's fancy might wish to gaze, there were gaping ribs dripping with cobwebs of black flesh. At that point, no boy or man could remain still and silent. In a din of boyish shrieks, they launched themselves at roughly the same point of exit, scrambling under the canvas as one.

   

Tentacles and repugnant hands lashed out at them from under the canvas. The air screamed with a freakish din. The sound came from all sides. The lights of the midway burst on. The amusement park rides began their slow turns. The brothers didn't know which way to go. Every avenue of escape threatened to be cut off.

    

    "Follow me," shouted Grant. He ran towards the midway, crowned with a carousel, a roller-coaster, and a colossal Ferris wheel. To Orvil, this seemed to be as good as any time to trust that his oldest brother actually knew what he was doing.

    

    It did seem to be a better direction to run. The monstrous sounds were concentrated behind them. Yet just before they passed the giant wheel, the boys spotted the line of glaring circus animals blocking their route. Every beast stood on its hind legs, each punching one forelimb into what amounted to a fist on the other limb. Coming to an abrupt stop, Grant stumbled back into the other boys at the sight of upright elephants, zebras, and one vertical alligator. His eyes darted about for an exit. He chose another path, only finding it blocked as well.

   

     "This way," Grant commanded. He vaulted over the barrier that shielded guests from the dangerous path of the Ferris wheel. The boys could feel the breeze with each passing carriage. They stole glances in all directions, turning in place, knowing that every possible exit was long gone. "Get on!" He moved into the path of the approaching carriage.

  

    Fred mouthed, "Are you crazy?" Undaunted, the oldest brother beckoned for them to take their places next to him. Sure enough, the large seat scooped them all up, lifting them high above the growing circus crowd. "How is this supposed to help?" shrieked Fred. "Great, we get to live for a few more seconds, then down we go to our deaths!"

    

    To Orvil, this seemed like a fair assessment of their limited future. Sure enough, as they ascended higher, he could see a large group of clowns clustered at the structure's base.

    

    Grant stood on the seat, gripping an overhead support. "I've got it," he announced with feigned confidence. He pushed them all into a standing line. "When I tell you, jump."

    

    "I suppose that would be the most merciful end," murmured Ray.

    

    "No," shouted Grant. "We jump together, down to the carriage below us. Quick, before we hit the top."

    

    Orvil thought, "What stupid brothers I have."

    

    The brothers jumped. Their impact on the lower platform sent it rocking, nearly spilling them all out. They hugged one another in an uncharacteristic embrace.

   

    "What did that gain us?" Fred moaned as they once again approached the crest. "Five more seconds of life! That's all."

    

    "Again," Grant commanded. Without thinking this time, they made the plunge and found a growing talent at this daredevil stunt.

   

     "How long can we keep this up?" Fred yelled. "Til they shut off the motor?"

    

    "What good would that do them?" responded Grant. "How could they climb up to get us with those feet?"

    

    "Not the clowns," shouted Orvil as he caught the nightmare image. "Those girl-things are trapeze acrobats. They'll come up and get us!" The other boys grew visibly pale at the thought of those horrors moving up through the network of steel beams and diagonal braces toward them. Fred and Ray abruptly lost their talent of nimbly jumping down to the next carriage. Instead, they snatched at one another during their fall, nearly sending all over the edge.

    

    "I've got it," announced Orvil. "We gotta ride it down." They looked at him in dismay. "No. Trust me. I've got a plan!" His reassurance did little to convince the older brothers. To their credit or insanity, they accepted the decision.

    As the Ferris wheel carriage came down, the four brothers beheld the posse of evil clowns waiting for them. The monstrosities opened their enormous mouths, growing wider in anticipation. These mammoth heads hinged into two hemispheres.

    

    Rather than wait for the full descent, Orvil yelled for them all to jump down to the bottom carriage. In grim resolve, they did just that. It was the clumsiest landing yet, which was much to Orvil's pleasure. His plan worked remarkably well. The carriage bench rocked backward, sending the footrest arcing forward and up, cracking the three nearest clowns hard under their chins. Back they toppled into their comrades in a lovely domino effect.

    

    The boys sprang out of the carriage, vaulting from one fat belly to the next, heading with a birth of hope into the night.