All I want to do is make sure you stop chasing rainbows
Trusting those around you is an easy thing to do
I'm not saying don't believe in someone that you don't know
Just don't go on thinking that the whole world tells the truth
-No Use For A Name: Chasing Rainbows-
**********
The frozen moon cast blades of light, slashing through the clouds onto the dark field of tranquil Meadow Foxtails. Fireflies darted in between and around the grass, effused with ethereal flames. A sudden interruption, coming in the form of an explosion of pale orange light, lit up the field. The foxtails swayed slightly; gossamers of thread dancing in the wind.
Against the placid plain erupted many structures and shapes, dead in centre stood a great marquee, shrieking.
The fireflies scattered.
Through the royal red curtains an immense audience sat, the monolithic structure held thousands of spectators comfortably in the stands that surrounded the arena. Shades of gold and alizarin patterned the interior; the audience wore coordinating garb. A large mahogany pole rose from the middle, with smaller steels poles circling the tent. The entangled confusion of ropes hanging from the various poles all met orderly on the matted down grass outside, bound to the earth with large pegs.
In the center of the dirt stage was a figure juggling three incandescent torches, burning. With a proud and exaggerated bow he lifted his head up, his straight body stiff with concentration, his mouth opened and he swallowed the flame whole. Smiling playfully, as he pulled out the torch slowly, he let out a large burp which sent a plume of smoke from his mouth. The audience sat in awe, worrying that he'd be overcome by the smoke. He bowed again but before anybody could applaud his daring performance he drew the remaining two torches up, twirling them around in each hand and then, with a wide mouth, devoured the fierce and undulating flames. Bowing very extravagantly he bent down and pulled out one torch, holding it to his lips and belched. A blaze of fire escaped his mouth, the torch relit, and he fell over. The audience was riled, standing up to see if he was okay, wondering if he'd disappeared, but as if on cue he stood back up and beamed at them, twisting around and bowing, letting his fiery coloured sequined jacket blazed in the light of the arena, so like the fire he could tame.
A middle-aged man sauntered out dressed in crimson jacket, an inky black hat balancing on his head the rim shielding his right eye. A long vivid light followed his movement all the way to the hub.
“And that was Krlando the Fire Swallower! Give him a hand, folks.”
The enclosure erupted; the stands reverberated with old fatigue. The illumination from the lime lights cast off chromatic shades upon the crowd. A concoction of perfumes and other bodily smells rose off the people in a colourful cocktail. A band set, up in a corner, tried to play over the noise with a joyous ragtime until all was cleared from the last act.
The colossal dins tried to beat each other as the musicians played like men possessed; faces red, panting between breathes, still performing through sheer act of mind and will.
Gradually, the din hushed and the Orchestra stopped, some collapsing exhaustion overtaking them. The crowd turned from each other and towards the heart of the marquee. Silence closed over, eventually and a dazzling smile shimmered over the man’s face, sweat glistening on his brow as he faced the crowd.
“Ladies and gentlemen! The act you’ve all been waiting for!” the man’s voice boomed, “The most distinguished act in the history of performance! Featuring son and daughter of the worlds most celebrated acrobatic couple, Antio and Melissa.”
He took a long dramatic breath
“Alexzander and Sierra!”
The crowd erupted as loud as before.
Pausing, the man’s face lit up in glee,
“For first time ever, they will perform an act no other man or woman has successfully finished in twelve years! Tonight, shall we see if Alexzander and Sierra will succeed where even their parents have failed before? Will they soar above expectation or fail, ending their careers in a night? A most tastefully dangerous act crafted by Antio and Melissa, performed by Alexzander and Sierra”— he inhaled heavily –“‘Blind Luck’!”
The man took a sideward glance at Antio’s anxious body, smirking, while a cacophony of ovations and riotous cheers caused the stands to creek. The spotlights twirled and fell upon to figures high above them and the audience grew hushed, letting out soft sounds of reverence, consisting of oooohs’ and aaaaahs’, the spectator’s hungry eyes filled with wonder.
Towering several stories above Alexzander could hear nothing. He bowed several times, waving at the speckles below. He grew increasingly disgusted at their simplistic and benign nature. Alexzander knew that they all loved him and it made him feel exhilarated, a god among men. He always gave them what they asked for and never failed at it. Everybody from all around came to see him and him only. How they waited, how they stared at someone else who was about to risk their life for their personal entertainment, how they did nothing. Alexzander was not like them; he was far above them and he knew as he eyed them row-by-row as they gazed up at him. As he positioned his body he thought, “They’d never try this. They can just watch and be safe on the ground. Those cowards….”
During this war it was a luxury to come by entertainment. However, even with extra salary Alexzander got, keeping morale alive in the people was still hardly worth it. No doubt many of these very audience members had lost someone, or something, in this dreadful conflict. Everyone, excluding the self-righteous Rythion religious power and Loka’sawian government, wanted it to end. They had been at war with the Rhana Lands for nearly twenty years. The upheaval however had created tension among the Rythionic and Loka’sawian allies. Many foresaw, and many prayed for, an end in bloodshed.
Positioned on a tall trunk-like structure, sporting bright, garish colours the pillars stood, Alexzander felt no joy from these bright and psychedelic shades, appealing only to those intoxicated on Shoth.
Alexzander looked at the sea of faces, the many stands packed to the brim, it wasn’t uncommon for an acrobat to fall and, along with themselves, crush an innocent spectator. Then there were people who couldn’t be bothered moving from under the airspace of the performers when the show began. The unholy stench that enveloped the tent was overpowering. It was hardly ever cleaned: cleaning duty was assigned by bad luck, and not very often. Each person would draw a single pebble out of a bag of stones, one of which had the fateful words "Bench and Stands Duty" inscribed on its surface.
Alexzander could never let himself think he would make the same mistake his father had so long ago. He wouldn’t go down in flames.
Alexzander Mindirras’ career would flourish!
His sister, Sierra, stood on a smaller pillar far from him, grinning intently at him. She was a few years older than him. She had long, shimmering flaxen hair, which she always kept loose. Sierra never let Alexzander forget that she loved feeling of her hair flying, the strands caught in the wind, as she fell.
Thick, eyelashes made her azure eyes stand out, along with the help of rosy eye shadow. She had high cheekbones, such an admirable feature, which was shaded delicately with rouge. Her lips were decorated with crimson lipstick that shone on her youthful face.
Alexzander smiled to himself and thought, “Too bad she looks like a little whore without her make-up.” It was no surprise all the men wanted her just by looking at her enthralling body. If only these men knew she was about as heavenly as a harlot, but reality was never something others thought of. Many men and adolescent boys, clearly blinded by her acting and make-up, had tried vainly to flirt and gain her love, but she always politely refused. Though, gradually, the refusal had become colder and colder, sometimes leaving Sierra to not say a word to them at all.
Alexzander could see Sierra shifting her feet, her hands tightly clasped. Slowly her face lifted, and though she appeared nervous her, eyes were totally resolute. From far below he could barely see his parents, screaming out words of encouragement.
Shutting his eyes and breathing in heavily, Alexzander walked carefully to the edge of the platform, thoroughly confident, before he leapt into the air.
On the opposite end of the arena was his sister. Alert and waiting for her moment, Sierra went over the plan rapidly in her head, over and over again, striving for perfection.
Her job was to catch Alexzander at the last minute, before he fell too far away from her reach. There was no safety net below and that didn’t even bother her. The duo was finally considered skilled enough to try this.
Alexzander felt no fear sailing downwards, plummeting; the wind rushed around his whole body. A joy came from falling, the air allowing him to bend freely, blocking out the noise of the crowd below. The feeling came to him, drowning him in ecstasy. This new feeling was broken when he was suddenly aware of his sister grasping his hands. He gripped hers in return, feeling warm, yet clammy. Ignoring this he smiled madly. She threw him on to her former platform.
Sierra climbed onto the trapeze, and then, while it still moved, she leapt facing away from the destination column onto the higher one, her beautiful long blond hair flying free. Twinkles, glittering from her elbows, made both arms appear to be pure light, completing the rumour that she was a Goddess. She twisted around, her movements graceful, before she let go of the trapeze and landed on the higher platform. She sighed in relief, her heart pounding in her chest as if were a cannon ball.
It was time for the finale.
Bounding upward she grabbed her legs and looped them round a stool. She raised two fingers to her lips and let a shrill and piercing sound. Alexzander threw himself off his platform backwards. As soon as the sound was made Sierra speedily caught him by his wrists, still gripping the stool with her legs, and with astonishing strength she flung Alexzander high into the air. He spiralled down, landing on the swing. Having not one second to relax she whistled again, and he leapt blindly back over to his pillar.
There was no mistaking the sound of the onlookers; as he leapt easily over they cried out in shock. Fawning and swooning girls were impressed by the easily accomplished feat.
Sierra swung a few more times on the trapeze; her movements were poised, as she balanced with one leg wrapped around the bar. She flipped and her legs formed a perfect split in midair. As she did this her golden hair splayed out in all directions, like a lion’s mane, before it fell back around her toned shoulders. Finally, she preformed a forward roll in mid-air, her dextrous fingers catching hold of the bar and clambering up. Not wasting one second she thrust her tiny body up onto her tired hands, legs pointing towards the roof of the canvas. She held the position and the crowd grew silent.
Blood rushed to her skull but she ignored dizziness and nausea. Vaulting once more onto the trapeze from his platform, Alexzander landed on her bare feet and raised his hands above his head in victory with the trapeze still swinging like a pendulum of a very gargantuan clock. The crowd a visible blur of colour and noise. Sierra swung trapeze more and more fiercely. Alexzander opened his eyes, the fluorescent lights stunning him briefly as he strained to see. He took one final leap back to his own pillar, while Sierra landed back on hers. They both raised their hands and bowed stiffly.
The noise grew colossal as they bowed and embraced the overall admiration; flowers and other material praises were thrown into the centre. They would brag to his friends and family, blowing it so out of proportion that even the worlds most notorious liar would believe it was as spectacular as it was told to him. Turning his head Alexzander saw Sierra on her pillar, smiling and blowing kisses to all her admirers. The look of nervousness she had worn originally was nowhere to be found. There had been no reason for her to be so anxious in the first place; now she looked alive. Alexzander knew no one who’d watched would understand how it felt to be falling free, how much of a rush was attained, how beautiful it felt, the sensation it gave.
The man with the beautiful top hat, the ring leader, appeared again and bowed. A long wave of the previous performers ran from various side doors to meet in the centre around him. His face shone with sweat, his eyes with pride. All the performers bowed and waved, happy that the show had finished. The band, riled up once again, began to play their final, ending theme. They played it stridently, yet serenely, as to not be outdone by the roar of the crowd.
“I hope you’ve all enjoyed tonight’s show at Jared’s Midnight Menagerie. Be sure to come back again! Here, the performances never get stale! Goodnight!” bellowed Jared, his arms spread like wings. The crowd commended the circus performers and slowly began to exit, some lingering around, others running to the centre to greet the performers and praise them.
They both descended from their platforms. Alexzander’s ladder shuddered as he climbed down. He didn’t care if it shook and broke and he fell into the crowd, nothing could kill the mood, this feeling of invulnerability. Sierra met the crowd in the centre to pick up her favours while fans started to swarm around them.
Searching the sea of admirers, Alexzander looked for anyone worth giving an autograph to, continuing his way down to earth. His foot barely touched the hard dirt when his mum swept him up in a constricting embrace, her strength still showing after all those years.
Sierra did not attempt to devour the crowd’s admiration to boost her own ego when she first begun her performances. It had once just been a few bows in return of a standing ovation. Now the applause had grown larger than life, larger than she had imagined. With it she felt like there was nothing wrong in her entire world. Still, it was horrible knowing that the ring-leader, Jared, constantly eyed her, the skin-tight leotard leaving hardly anything to the imagination. Not even the cheering of the audience could turn her mind from the fact that he was always watching her. Even now his secretive leers created a tense feeling, it made her feel as if her tight outfit had disappeared, making her vulnerable. Seeing all those normal girls look at her with such envy, wishing they could be her. If only they knew….
Taking a deep breath, Alexzander’s mother cuddled him tightly. Sierra walked a bit closer and her mother grabbed her as well.
“Well done! Oh, well done! You were so amazing up there, your father and I …” her voice drifted and she stopped the embrace.
Alexzander could hear no more under the tumultuous crowd and upbeat music. Slouching against the pillar he waved his hand at the crowd passively. His bright, moss green eyes scanned them as they walked past. The signs of a moustache were visible under his nose, yet it wasn’t enough to be considered a moustache. Uninterested in the crowd, he let his long fingers dance over the wooden pole, which he leaned against, and chipped at the already stripped pillar. He let the admiration wash over him, stimulating him. Glancing up he saw his dad limping towards him and his sister, tears of joy filled his eyes.
“Well done! Alexzander and Sierra, my two children, you’ve done excellently tonight!” their father stated heartily, “I’m so proud of you two.” He wrapped his muscular arms around both of them and held them tightly. Both of them were taken aback by this gesture of admiration and pride, but accepted it.
Jared walked over to Sierra and Alexzander’s parents, drawing them away from their children. Sierra looked at her brother, surrounded by his fans, and shook him gently on the shoulder. He ignored her for as long as possible, devouring the love of the audience, he didn’t want this praise to end. Finally, she hauled him outside of the tent, his protests growing unrelenting.
”Let go of my arm!”
“It’ll only take a minute, Alexzander.”
Groaning he, relinquished, and muttering the rest of the way. Once Sierra felt it was far enough from the noise she spoke, still high from the act, "We did it! I admit, I was worried, but you were right! We did it!
“Of course I was right!” he snapped.
He turned to go, just as she replied.
“But one thing bothers me… You must have been a little worried?”
Alexzander ignored her.
“Father is handicapped because of what we just did; surely you must’ve been a little nervous?” Sierra asked as she looked into his sharp eyes.
“No, I wasn’t worried, nervous, scared, anything. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going back to my adoring mass.”
“Don’t you mean our adoring mass?”
“Yes, whatever. The fact is, I’m going to shower in it.”
Frowning she ambled into his path. “I believe they can wait.”
Alexzander lowered his voice, “No…. Now go away.”
Searching his face for a smile or eyes saying it was a joke, she stumbled as she spoke,
“We could have died…. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“No. Now let me go to my fans.”
“Our fans.”
“Come on, Alexzander you’re my brother! I admitted I was afraid you should admit it too.”
“Think of it like this Sierra. Unlike you, I knew we’d succeed”
“Just because we were lucky tonight doesn’t mean we will be lucky forever. Sometimes I worry our luck will run out.” Edging uneasily closer, her eyes stared into him with such sincerity.
“Trust me Sierra, we are Gods.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about, it’s you! Promise to be careful,” Sierra continued, “I’d rather you were a little more cautious than be shot into the dust because you were a star that attempted to reach too high.” She stared with more intensity. Through the apparent love was loathing for his vainglorious words.
“We got where we were now because we shot high. There is never too high; look at us now! The whole Continent will come to see us perform! We shot high to get here. No harm in shooting further,” Alexzander said calmly, holding back laughter of disbelief. Why was his sister worried about him falling when he was the indefinite shooting star?
“Just because we were lucky tonight doesn’t mean we will be lucky forever. Sometimes I worry our luck will run out.” Edging uneasily closer, her eyes stared into him with such sincerity.
“Get lost little girl, I hear my fans calling.”
Before Sierra walked away from her arrogant brother she added, “Don’t shoot too high Alexzander. Stars fall brother, stars fall.”
Her gaze penetrated him like a dagger and as she walked away; almost as if she had given up. Alexzander was stunned at the remark taking a while to collect himself in the darkness of the field.
He watched her walk away, without saying a word. Sierra looked back; opening her mouth slightly as if she were going to add something but she saw how stiff he had grown, a sign he was enraged. She turned away from him again and continued to walk, her stance upright and tense.
Alexzander let himself fall into the tall grass. He pulled up the earth with his hands, kicked up the grass around him furiously. How dare she accuse me of shooting too high! Only the weak burn out! Sister, he stopped ripping up the field to think, it shall be you who doesn’t last. Not I.
He sat up and began to gently caress a foxtail. His eyes still burned with rage. Severely nettled, he left the field, heading for his trailer.
All the guests had left, some looking thoroughly drunk, the marquee was cleared of everything. Antio began to limp off leaning on Melissa and sighing, her expression imperceptible. Sometimes she wished he was like he’d once been. It wasn’t that she didn’t love him, but she knew he hated being forced to do the same act, which their children did that very night, so many years ago. Jared was cutting spending costs, which infuriated her. A safety net below trapeze wouldn’t have been expensive; it would’ve kept Antio from his dreadful handicapped state. The man she’d first fallen for had been strong, brave, and proud. He still tried to be all of that to Melissa, but the wolf inside him had been slaughtered.
Melissa detested Jared for the fact he thought of Antio as half a man. Whenever he limped by Jared would eye him, smirking, with a type of disgust without sympathy.
The bastard. Antio was no different than any other man.
“Melissa! Antio! I need to see you now!” Jared’s voice rang throughout the empty stadium. Sighing, they involuntarily made their way over to him.
“Well done my Soaring Mindirras’! Antio, Melissa, your children have such phenomenal skill. They could really go places,” Jared chuckled expectantly in his dazzling maroon costume. In his hand he held a whip and his sleek, black top hat. He winked and smiled, expecting thanks for his praise. Antio let go of Melissa’s arm and took a step closer; his posture growing tense.
"No! I’ve told you before Jared I’m not interested in any such deal with you! I may be handicapped but I know you’ve other such business, Jared Lyons, and I wouldn’t trust you with our only son and daughter! We are a family; we shall stay a family and we will always be a family!”
Melissa’s heart fluttered as she nodded in agreement to her husband’s statement. The fire, the passion, in Antio’s voice, reminded her of the earlier days. Her eyes full of intense hatred for Jared, but were strangely hot and wet. “Jared Lyons, just be glad we can’t find work at another circus. I’d rather be as far away from you as I possibly could be,” she spoke with a low menacing voice, her eyes squinted, glaring at Jared.
“But, Antio, friend, your children can really go far!” Jared continued, ignoring Melissa’s glowering, “They could leave and earn more money elsewhere!” Jared bobbed his head in agreement to his own statement, placing his hat on top of his head.
“You just don’t get it, do you? They’re staying here. I know you various connections. You can’t have Alexzander, especially not Sierra. Grow up! You call yourself a man, a ringmaster, the girl only nineteen! She’s not yours to have,” Antio huffed while he spoke one hand tightening, turning white, over his crutch.
“Very, very well! I understand, but remember, I started you off and could very well end your career," he sneered, a little enthusiasm slipped from his voice, "or should I say ‘family business’ like this--” He took the whip in his hand and cracked it on the dirt, sending small bits flying, laughing at his clever example. Curling his fingers Antio made a fist with his free hand and lifted it quickly but Melissa grabbed his arm, preventing him from striking Jared’s smug face, even though he deserved it. Why did she stop him? Maybe because she wanted to break his neck with her own bare hands, have him try and convince him to stop, stopping his taunts for good.
Jared stopped laughing when he saw the fist and, wagging his finger to and fro right in Antio’s face, said, “Tsk, tsk, tsk, Antio. You should try to control your temper; especially as you might trip chasing me.”
They both stared icily at each other then Jared sneered, “Oh, did I mention the little problem you have walking? Whoops!” Jared turned away from them, his face darkening and said, “Now… get out my sight, before I send your whole family on to the streets! Don’t think I won’t; you do claim to know me after all. Never think I need you. I don’t!”
Melissa pulled Antio away, controlling her own fury, but wanting to unleash her wrath on Jared. He didn’t need us, Melissa thought as they headed back to their trailers, Antio and I, my children, risked our lives, and he didn’t need it.
Along the way Antio thought about how his two children had both managed ‘Blind Luck’. It made him proud to be their father.
The clouds began to roll in, a little thunder shook the camping ground, and rain spattered down creating puddles in the turf. Melissa held him up on her shoulder ignoring the pain. She stopped suddenly and whispered his name, “Antio…”
He slowly turned his head towards her, as she whispered“…That was brave.”
“It was foolish… Jared’s right…”
Looking deep into his still eyes, no joyful shine, she reached up and gently stroked his forehead clear of wet hair, “My husband…”
“Jared’s right,” he moaned.
“No, he’s not. You’re the most respectful man I know. You’re more a man than Jared.”
“Let’s hope our children escape this place.”
He leaned over slightly and kissed her on the lips; tears formed in her eyes but couldn’t be seen by the rain. They then hurried along, not wanting to get their performance costumes too sodden.
In the distance, the sounds of circus music played a new mournful tune a devilish ragtime, although to others it sounded jolly. The various jaded circus structures, drab but full of colours, were only disguises of happiness, creating the biggest lie in the business. The colours looked more washed out and phoney than in actuality. They shrieked of the turmoil all performers had gone through, were going through. The circus hides behind its merriment and amusement, fooling all except those who knew it.
Antio and Melissa rushed to shelter while these shapes imposed over the ground. Threatening shadows from the cages, the tent, all tools of the trade, large and small, formed these cruel silhouettes. Trapping them; giving them no mercy. The circus had been Antio’s life for so long. It made him hopeless to think that this had once consumed him, the roaring audience, the attention, and the pride. Many dream-filled children wish of running away to the circus. If only they knew…. It had become clear he needed to leave and settle down with his family away from it all.
At dinner, he thought to himself as he and his wife darted towards their trailer, I will ask them.
The couple continued to splash in the puddles, when Antio caught a brief snatch of voices somewhere nearby. Why would anybody be out in the rain?
“Don’t forget… they need too… No messing up… this job… if… contract…”
He looked over his shoulder but couldn't see anyone. Must be behind one of the trailers, he thought. He escorted his wife to her trailer and then went to his own pushing, the wooden door open.
Melissa watched him vanish into his caravan, and considered to go in with him. Show her love was still thousands time strong as it once been. How could someone be so heartless as to separate a husband and wife away from each other?
Looking away, she went inside, hot salty drops, fell from her eyes. Then the door blew shut on her anguish.
Antio stood in the middle of his trailer and shivered. It was cool inside the confined space; he could feel the draft against the back of his neck. Rubbing his arms to ward off the chill he turned his head and saw that the window was open. He hobbled over and pulled it shut. Struck by a sudden paranoia, he glanced around the caravan with fresh eyes, searching for some sign of change.
The room seemed untouched, but he knew he’d left window shut.
A knock interrupted the silence causing his heart to scream in shock.
“Who is it?” he replied plaintively.
He then frowned at his voice and responded with a braver edge to it, “Who is it?”
“It’s Sierra. I need to talk to you.”
“Can’t this wait for dinner?”
“No, Dad, it can’t. Please let me in.”
“Very well,” he answered unlocking the door.
Sierra stepped in, water dripping off all around her forming small puddles on the floor. Small beads of water slid down her leotard and her hair matted against her face and back, looking like a mop. Antio stifled a titter at her soggy appearance before asking, “Why can’t this wait until dinner?” He hobbled over to the nearest chair, Sierra following him, and groaned as he began to lower his large body into the chair.
“It’s Alexzander. It scares me how he never seemed afraid during ‘Blind Luck’. Were you scared father?” She spoke quietly but her face and body were animated.
“What do you mean? Do you mean this night as I watched or when I preformed it?” Antio’s eyes fell over his leg, the night coming back so vividly.
“I mean…”
Suddenly Antio cried out agonizingly and bent over, his hands clutching his knee “Argh!”
Sierra shot to his side, her face laden with worry, “Dad! … Are you okay?”
Antio pushed her away angrily and stood up, the pain subsiding, his eyes awash with tears. He spoke firmly, “That was long ago… I’d rather…not talk about… it….”
“Please sit down. It’s not good for you to stand without your crutch.” She admired her father’s strength, but didn’t want him to overwork himself. It pained her to see him, his face sweaty, trying to heave his heavy body up on one good leg.
He winced digging his fingers into his leg, “Sierra, it’s a matter of pride. Jared… takes all the chances he can to taunt me. Sadly, I’ve grown jealous of you… and Alexzander’s success…. I wanted to do what… you just did tonight. Now look at me!”
Antio gave up and fell back against the seat, sighing defeated, “How can you look up to me? You soar like a bird, totally free ...and I just gaze up with such sadness, unable to fly.”
Sitting down he groaned, leaning back against the chair. His hands rested on his face, he heaved a depressed sighed. He slowly pointed his hand towards the drawers, “Sierra, be a dear and get my crutch, I’ll always need it….”
Sierra needed to know the answer to the question. She grew anxious and scared, her hands shook, “Father, were you afraid?” She held his crutch in front of her, almost like a shield, expecting a slap.
Laying his head in his hands again he took the crutch.
“…I’m half a man, don’t remind me of my failure!”
Moving a little closer she nervously probed, she had to be sure, “Father, I need to know!”
He towered above her, even leaning on his crutch, and looked into her eyes, and exclaimed, “Go… now!” The power in those two words was astoundingly effective; Sierra was taken aback by his tone. Nodding, her lip trembled slightly, she started to leave but turned back to add, “Please don’t push yourself too hard?”
“Out!”
Turning away from the slamming door he sighed, wondering who was in his room earlier. He remembered the talk with Jared. The man had an awful amount of power throughout this area, influencing many. This worried, but strengthened, Antio; that man would never break up his family.
Dinnertime was near.
He hobbled over to his bureau and mirror, changing slowing. He gripped any firm object to keep his balance; pulling his circus costume off until he was standing in his underwear in front of the mirror. Antio was still very muscular and had a large tattoo, of a white wolf howling against a pale moon, on his back. Except for a balding spot on top of his head the rest was covered with rich black hair. Melissa had told him that his eyes were like twin drops of water, a pool of compassion within him. Reaching to his neck was a short fluffy beard, with finely chiselled features. Many of his admirers loved him but they were slowly shifting towards his handsome son. Antio started to slip on his formal clothes, a pair of polished black shoes, some well-worn black trousers and his dinner jacket, almost mechanically.
He took one final look at this room, his room; it had been his home ever since Jared had taken him in. The room was nothing amazing: a long narrow bed, the few knick-knacks he owned were scattered around the room, along with posters advertising his performances, newspapers praising him. Shows were arranged on the walls next to his, starting with Sierra and Alexzander as a young kids, then gradually becoming the centre of attention on all posters. A wardrobe was propped against the other wall and it housed all the costumes he’d ever had. The whole boarding room seemed quaint and happy, but to Antio it was a room full of lost memories.
He lifted his crutch and hobbled over to the door pushing it open and headed out to meet his family for dinner, limping with his crutch in his hand, smiling - if only fake.
It had stopped raining.
*******************************
Alexzander lay on his mattress, staring at the ceiling, contemplating. Sierra sure had struck a nerve. Why should he of been afraid? He’d practiced the act thousands of times, every time as graceful as the last. He sighed, ruffling his hands through his hair in frustration. Why had her words affected him so much? Looking around his room was enough to kill any feelings of fear. Newspaper clippings hung around his room with headlines saying, “The Gravity Defying Duo”, “Alexzander and Sierra, Angels of Joy”, and “The Eagle and Dove of Loka’saw”. He knew he’d be able to do ‘Blind Luck’. Long ago he talked to his mum about it, but she was preoccupied with his father, and even he could see she hated everything this circus stood for, but the support was needed. The money was always an incentive to them to stay; the admiration was his.
Alexzander sighed. He didn’t have time to think about these frivolous things. He hadn’t died doing the stunt; he never would die.
He couldn’t.
My sister is just jealous of my talent, he thought, sitting up from the bed, smirking at the ingenuity of his reasoning, and my nerves of steel. It’s time to raise the stakes even higher! Smiling to him self, he climbed off his bed and began to change.
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The circus master grinned. He posed in front of his mirror, speaking to himself in a businesslike manner, holding blank applications in his hands, “It’s not easy to find fresh talent! For God’s sake they have so much potential! Alexzander and Sierra, oh, how they rake in the customers. But that father of theirs, he’ll need to be taken down a peg or two, I wonder…
You wily thing Jared! Yes…. The boy could be useful. But, oh Sierra, it’s time to end this pointless charade!
He held his hand out to his reflection before he sat down. He leaned back in his chair, running his bony fingers through his short russet hair. His dark brown - almost black eyes- were calm, but sadistic. The crimson ringleader uniform was now creased, ruffled, and looking less magnificent than it was in the main tent. He grinned maliciously, “Maybe…” he pondered, “Just maybe the father needs some good old fashioned persuasion. I wonder if he’d respond to…”
He gasped and, grinning, laughed sinisterly. “When I’m finished with that annoyance Melissa can’t be left alone. So… if both their mother and father are – sadly - incapacitated, so to speak, the family would need a guardian…. If I could gain both their trust maybe Sierra would eventually – Ah! Excellent,” he chortled, amused, adding the finishing touches onto his thoughts, knowing that nobody could accuse him of not having high ambitions. He smiled and knew that nothing lasts. He was sick of this business anyway.
It’s end game Mindirras’.
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