First of May

Spring 2009

 

First of May (extended excerpt)

By Kelsey Knoedler

Scarlet looked down at the letter in her trembling hands. Her temples throbbed from the rush of sprinting to the circus grounds after grabbing her toothbrush and her sweater and slamming the front porch door shut on the fight she’d had with her father and the sixteen years she’d spent despising him. She saw the letter on the nightstand next to her mother’s bed and discreetly tucked it inside her house coat that morning when she and her father had discovered her mother’s cold body. She knew that he’d have taken it from her if he’d seen it to deprive her of any extra slivers of her mother’s love. Though she was anxious to open the envelope in her hands, she knew that inside were her mother’s last words to her, and she wanted to save them, preserve them for as long as possible. This was the last piece of her mother. It wasn’t real. Not yet. And she was afraid that reading the letter would make it real.

Scarlet shoved the bulky envelope into her pocket, and settled into her back-row bench seat. She could feel the weighty canvas of the sidewall brushing against the back of her neck as the bluster of early spring’s breezes weaved in and out of the slits in the yellow and white tent walls and made the entire big top quiver like her nervous hands. The first to enter the big top, Scarlet had thrown down the money for her ticket, rushed through the marquee, past the cages in the menagerie, and straight to the blue seats in the back of the ring without stopping to ooh and ahh at the exotic peacocks, camels and apes. As she began to catch her breath, she picked at the blue paint chipping off of the bench beside her and flinched as her hand slipped on the wood, driving a quarter-inch splinter into her left thumb. Crimson droplets oozed out of the cut the splinter had made.

Scarlet stared at her hand as the blood trickled down to her wrist, as deep red as the first traces of blood she’d seen on her mother’s pillow when she shook her awake one morning to tell her that she’d seen the first circus herald depicting the colorful faces of the clowns announcing the arrival of The Baraboo Brothers’ Big Top Circus “full of fun and wonders for kids from 1 to 100.” Ever since she was a little girl, Scarlet and her mother had always shared a profound curiosity for the magic and mischief of the big top, and she could hardly encapsulate her excitement as she had run home to tell her mother they were coming again. As her mother’s eyes had fluttered open, the blood that crusted her bottom lip ruined the delicate smile that glided across her face.

That was just a year ago, and in that one short year, Scarlet had watched her mother become weaker and weaker. Her mother tried to pretend nothing was wrong, and even in the last few weeks of her life, though tired and overtaken by her consumption; she refused to succumb to her impending death. She had impossibly promised to go with Scarlet to the circus that evening. And when Scarlet’s argument with her father ended in the stinging slap of his accusations, she knew that the Baraboo Brothers’ was the only place for her to go. It was the place she and her mother came every summer to escape. It was the only thing now that could distract Scarlet.

Scarlet wiped the blood on the underskirt of the wine-colored dress her mother had helped her sew. She tried not to notice the whiskey stains on the bottom of her skirt.

As the towners began to sprinkle into the blues and star back seats around the tent, Scarlet tried hard to imagine her mother’s presence on the bleacher next to her. She tried to breathe in her scent—that of lavender and the caramel candy that she always carried with her. She could almost hear her mother’s laughter sparked by the anticipation of the delights that would fill the center ring in front of them.

“Excuse me.” A woman’s voice interrupted her reverie. “Is anyone sitting here?”

Scarlet glanced down at the empty seat next to her. She looked up into the face of the black-haired woman wearing an enormous olive hat towering over her and shook her head. The woman sat down and motioned to the little girl side-stepping between the rows behind her, cotton candy in one hand and a large plush elephant doll in the other. The little girl took her seat next to her mother and giggled with the thrill of what she was about to encounter. Scarlet wished more than anything that she was just a little girl, and that her only worry in the world was to keep her cracker jacks from spilling across the dirt floor of the circus ring.

~~~

“Ladies and Gentlemen! Children of all ages! The Baraboo Brothers purrr-OUdly present: The Baraboo Brothers’ Big Top Circus!”

The circus band near the back of the tent struck up a jovial tune, as a mosaic of troupers tromped around the circumference of the circus rings: performers in stunningly shimmering costumes atop horses, elephants, and stilts; aerialists in tight leotards, or pants and shirts that displayed their muscular arms and shoulders; unicyclists; monkeys; a mysterious man in a cape of deep indigo; jugglers tossing bowling pins between them; clowns of all colors carrying playful props of all shapes and sizes, one twisting a balloon into the shape of a dog and handing it to a delighted little girl in the front row. The actors and animals paraded around the rings in a spectacle like no other, but just when the audience had gotten a taste of every flavor of big top performer, they disappeared through the back door, leaving the show-goers thirsty for more.

Suddenly, a sturdy man wearing a poppy-red tail coat, a tall ebony top hat with a matching handlebar mustache, and a carefully molded grin stepped out from the opening of the striped canvas. Scarlet was stricken immediately by the man’s bold features. His strong jaw line and thoughtfully contoured cheek bones made his face seem almost unreal, as if he were made by the same marionettess who had carved the souvenir dolls that were sold in the small tents along the midway in the front of the circus lot. The man stood with his arms up in the air, his eyes scanning back and forth across the crowd, appearing to be welcoming a flock of flamingos that were scheduled to land in the center ring to begin the show.

With a booming voice louder than any Scarlet had expected to hear from a person of such modest build, the gentleman spoke, “Hello, my lovelies, I am your ring master, Magnus T. Moody, and I welcome you all to the Baraboo Brothers’ Circus! Tonight these three rings before you will be filled with daring delights, incredible illusions, side-splitting slapstick, and gravity-defying gambols. You will squeal with joy, gasp in amazement, and applaud with delight. Great white elephants will disappear before your very eyes, air-light aerialists will fly through the sky as if they had wings, and fearless fellows will attempt to tame the terrifying beasts of the jungle. But I wouldn’t want to ruin the sum of the surprise. So without further ado and with the noblest of pleasure, I give you our opening act: the beautiful, the talented, the world-famous Magnificent Meg!”

The crowd burst into applause. Whether they had been to the circus before or not, everyone under the tent top that evening knew of Magnificent Meg. It was one of the greatest tributes to her talent and fame that an equestrienne be remembered from year to year, across the country, and around the world, and Meg was certainly famous in every town she touched. The mention of her name sent shivers down the spines of little girls and grown men alike, those who admired and those who adored her. As Meg emerged from the back door of the tent, the claps became whistles, hoots, and hollers. Her brilliant smile and the glimmer that reflected off the intricate bead and sequined bodice of her costume seemed to light the whole place on fire.

Meg’s assistant set the white horse galloping around the center ring. With an air of pure extravagance and ease as the horse passed her, Meg ran straight towards the horse and leaped from the ground, landing on the bareback of the galloping animal. The audience gasped and applauded thunderously. In no time at all, she was up on her feet, balancing on the smooth slope of the horse’s spine. As the horse rode around the ring, Meg performed stunt after stunt, riding on, over, and under the horse. She somersaulted from the back of the horse to a seated position, and jumped from one horse to another as if she was simply hopping over a puddle. In her final attempt to woo the crowd, Meg catapulted herself off the horse’s back, whirled through the air, and landed on the ground where the horse’s hooves had just been. The crowd once again clapped fiercely, and as Magnificent Meg stood in her pose like an early spring daffodil resisting the late winter winds, Scarlet wondered if there was anything this woman couldn’t do. A man could certainly never try to hurt something that strong and that beautiful. Desire watered her eyes.

~~~

She wasn’t sick until you poisoned her body with your wickedness. It was you. I always told her she would pay for her sins, but I took her in anyway. I supported her anyway. For sixteen years I supported her. I loved her. I never laid a finger on her. Never left her side. But she never loved me as much as she loved you. The two of you always running off to the circus or the stables. And now she’s just left me for good. Left me with nothing. With less than nothing. With you.

He threw his bottle at the floor. Shards of glass and drops of whiskey splattered her dress.

~~~

Act after act continued to amaze and astound the audience that evening at the Baraboo Brothers’ Big Top Circus. But no matter how splendid the spectacle, Scarlet could not govern her thoughts. Her mind kept drifting back to the argument and the bepocketed letter she had stowed earlier. When Scarlet glanced over to see the olive-hatted mother lifting the little girl on her lap so she could see the lion tamer, a tightening in her chest made it hard for her to breathe. The big top and all the members of the troupe started to circle around her head, dizzying her with their color and clamor. She felt like she’d ridden the Strawberry Sizzler a time or two too many. Her stomach was in knots, and she could taste the stinging bile creeping up her throat. Scarlet began to cough uncontrollably, and the circus-goers around her glanced over with criticizing eyes. Rather than make a spectacle of herself, Scarlet slipped off the edge of the bench and disappeared in the shadows beneath it.

She collapsed onto the dirt floor under the blue bleachers among the popcorn boxes, ticket stubs, and cigarette butts. Leaning against the back of the seat wagon, Scarlet took deep breaths, in and out. She closed her eyes and saw her mother short of breath on a walk through the park a few months earlier; she opened her eyes to make that picture go away. Clearing her mind, Scarlet slowly began to calm herself. And slowly, Scarlet drew the wrinkled envelope from her pocket. She could no longer harness her curiosity; the circus had not distracted her enough. Scarlet tore open the seal and took out a single sheet of her mother’s violet floral stationary. A silver locket fell out of the over-turned envelope. The silver had begun to tarnish, but the rose engraved on the front of the locket was as recognizable as it was when Scarlet had tugged the necklace from her mother’s neck as a baby. She had never seen her mother’s neck bare.

She clasped the heart-shaped medallion in her hand and unfolded the letter. The loops and curls of her mother’s perfect script seemed newly penned, and the scent of lavender and caramel that Scarlet had tried so hard to summon earlier emanated from the page. She breathed in the scents, and she breathed in her mother’s words:

My beautiful girl,

I don’t know how to begin except to say that I love you and I am so sorry that I had to leave you. I hoped with all my heart that you would never find yourself reading these words. My tender situation required that I leave this record for you. I am sorry for concealing my past— and yours.

To see the fear in your eyes when you looked at Francis over the years pained me more than you will ever know. If I had had a way out, I want you to know that I would have escaped to find a better life for the two of us. But I was afraid. And I was alone.

When I found myself expecting you, your grandfather was so ashamed that he cast me out. I could not stay in Merrywood, and I had no place to go. I went to Francis, he offered me a home, and I latched onto the warmth of another human. When I came to him, he took us in, and I was forever in his debt.

You were conceived out of love, my dove, but your father’s soul could never be anchored. I met him at the carnival where he won me the locket that you now hold in your hands. He came to me when he could, but his trade made a constant traveler of the blue-eyed boy. I knew he would never settle, and I soon learned that I had to set him free. He never knew about you, my dove. He left me for good before I ever had the chance to tell him you were coming. I don’t know if he ever came back to see me. Nobody knew where I went, and nobody knew about him and me.

I’m sorry I couldn’t do better for you, Scarlet. But I hope that now, the strong young woman you are, you will be able to do better for yourself. He was always in my heart. I hope that both of us will forever be in yours.

Always with you,

Mother

A single tear rolled down the apples of Scarlet’s warm cheeks. The locket had always been a permanent fixture upon her mother’s breast. In all the times she’d played with the ornament when she was a child, her mother always snatched it out of her grasp before she was able to see what was inside. A sparkle of light winked at her from the smooth surface of the locket in her hands, and with a rush of urgency, she pried open the clasp.

The rusty hinge gave way, and as she pulled open the silver heart, she inhaled sharply at what she discovered. Inside the locket was a tiny picture of her mother on one side and a stranger with big blue eyes on the other. Scarlet quickly snapped it shut and saw those same blue eyes reflected in the surface of the locket.

Her head clouded with a million different emotions. She cast the anger from her mind, that her mother had concealed this secret from her. She couldn’t possibly be angry with her mother now. She harnessed the shock, and re-read the letter twice more to sort the confusion. Her heart finally rested upon relief—relief that she never had to return to the white house, the whiskey puddles, and all the things that reminded her of her mother. She never had to shield herself from her father, or the man she always thought was her father. Never had to shield herself from his bottles or blows. Never had to hide beneath the kitchen table ever again. She knew she could never go back to her house, that she never had to.

Scarlet closed her eyes, stretched her wings and flew high above the big top, above the crowd, above Magnificent Meg, above Magnus T. Moody, above the clowns and the beasts and acrobats. Up in the deep blue star speckled sky, Scarlet soared.

~~~

“All out and over!” Scarlet heard a man’s voice shout.

She landed softly on the dirt floor beneath the bleachers. Scarlet peeked out the side of the blues and saw that the big top was completely empty and the sidewalls were already being taken down. She quickly folded her mother’s letter and stowed it in her pocket. The locket she kept, held tightly in her fist. The sidewall behind her set of seats was already gone, so Scarlet sneaked out from her little nook and tip-toed out the side of the big top. She quickly scampered through the deep black night to the back of the tent where she saw several small tents lit from within, shadows of busy performers gathering their belongings and preparing for their next jump. Scarlet took shelter under a large wagon with “Baraboo Brothers” painted loudly on the side. She saw a man with a painted face emerge from the tent directly behind the big top. He was wearing over-sized slacks with suspenders and no shirt and carrying a bucket. The tramp clown tossed the contents of the bucket across a patch of grass behind the tent.

“Hey, Sparky, you better get your keister packed up here pretty quick. We’re about to demolish clown alley,” yelled a voice from inside the shadowy tent.

“Yeah, I’ll be right back!”

The clown walked nearer to Scarlet; she hid behind the giant wheels of the wagon. He slammed down his bucket and took out a cigar and matchbox from the giant pocket of his denim pants. The clown sat down on the overturned bucket, lit the cigar, breathed it in, and sighed, looking up at the stars. Slowly and softly, between puffs of the vanilla-scented cigar, the clown began to hum a sad tune. Scarlet thought she recognized it from a broken music box she had gotten rid of a few summers ago. And slowly and softly, as Scarlet leaned against the enormous wheel beneath the circus wagon, she began to drift off into a dreamless sleep.

~~~

“Hey, you there! Is there someone there?” Scarlet started awake. The clown was standing right in front of her, looking down into her frightened blue eyes.

“You shouldn’t be here, girly. The circus’s long been over. Go on home, now.”

Scarlet crawled out from underneath the wagon, and stretched her legs out. Her legs grew faster than the rest of her body, and her mother always said she’d shot up like sunflower. Sometimes they ached with growing, and after curling up under the circus wagon, she felt the same cramps just above her knees.

“Why, you aren’t some little tot,” the clown smiled, “you’re nearly as tall as me! Twice as tall as Gilbert, but that’s another story. What’re you doing out here so late at night? It’s dangerous for you to be out here while we’re tryin’ to take things down and pack things up.”

“I, I…” Scarlet stuttered until she could find her words; she hadn’t actually spoken since she’d said goodbye to her mother. “I had an argument with my father and I just couldn’t go home.” Scarlet thought about lying to the clown, but for some reason she trusted him enough to tell him the truth. It was something about his droopy brown eyes and the warm vanilla smell of the cigar.

“Why would anyone argue with a pretty little thing like you? You couldn’t’a’ done anything wrong, now, could you? I used to have plenty o’ fights with my pappy when I was your age. Finally popped ‘im in the jaw real good one time. Knew he wouldn’t have me back under his roof again.” The clown wandered back over to the bucket and set his foot on it, resting his elbow on his knee. “I’d never raise a finger toward anyone I liked, mind you, but my daddy was somethin’ awful. I had to respect him for raisin’ us boys on his own all our lives, but enough was enough. I did a few odd jobs after that. Crashed in the sheds of some old pals around town, but the only thing I was good at was makin’ people laugh. So one day I saw an ad in the Daily Rocket lookin’ for someone who could do just that, and I hopped on a circus wagon, learned how to paint my face, and became a tramp. It’s not a bad way to make a living, but sometimes, ya know, sometimes you just miss havin’ somewheres to rest your soul.”

“Hey, Sparky! Get yer body goin’ and pack up your junk! Train’s gonna leave without us!”

“Yeah, I’m comin’! Sorry, little darlin’, but I gotta run. That’s how it is here on the road, always on the run. What did you say your name was?”

“Oh, I didn’t. It’s Scarlet.”

“Beautiful name. Well, Scarlet, you run on home now. I’m sure your daddy’s cooled off and is worried sick about where you been.” Scarlet doubted that. “Next time the circus comes around, you look out for old Sparky!”

“Spark!”

“I’m comin’, jeez. Bye, now, Scarlet.”

Sparky picked up his bucket and hurried over to the clowns’ tent. Scarlet scanned the emptying circus lot. She’d made a decision when she was listening to Sparky ramble on about his father. Scarlet knew she couldn’t go home and that she couldn’t stay in Brookton. But she had nowhere else to run. And she wasn’t going to make the same mistake her mother did. Scarlet knew that she wouldn’t give up until she found her father. And the only way to do that—the only way to get herself around the country without a penny to her name and only the clothes on her back—was to do as Sparky did and join the circus. She was sure they’d be able to find a job for her. And she’d read books about the circus. She knew the circus. She loved the circus. She would be the most loyal trouper the Baraboo Brothers had ever had.

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