The circus was in town. 'Dragonclaw’s International Circus and Show', the signs proclaimed. They had set up in the big park in the centre of the city, and Dreamspears had snuck in through the hedge. She didn’t have the penny they required at the gate, but as long as she didn’t call attention to herself nobody would notice she was there.
She came out of the hedge behind the carts. This was, she supposed, where the circus people lived. It was strange, seeing it from this angle, the part the public wasn’t supposed to see, and it gave her a little thrill. Normal things, such as a pair of shoes on the doorstep of a caravan or the big yellow dog lounging in the shade of a large empty cage all seemed strange and new, in their proximity to the bright colours and wooden carts.
She walked through the area casually, hands in her pockets, feeling like an intruder in somebody else's space. But, she had lived a lot of her life like that, and the feeling wasn't new.
It was only a few minutes before she broke through the line of carts and found the circus proper. The air smelt of food and sweets and animals, and there were people everywhere. It was late afternoon, and the big show wouldn’t start until later, but there were exhibits and games set up. Overwhelmed by choice, Dreamspears wandered towards a fenced area, where she could see a lot of small children congregating.
It was a petting zoo, and she stood for a while and watched a large herd of goats receiving pets from many small children. Once she bored of that, she checked out what else there was. She peered into a small pen filled with hay and antlered rabbits. She petted a goat which had wandered over, and eyed up an enclosed tent that promised baby dragons and snakes, for the price of a half-penny admittance.
She didn't half the half-penny, so she skipped out on that one, making a note to come back later.
Some of the kids were pointing to the back of the pens, where a small black cat was lounging. It had large black wings folded by its sides, like a pigeon, and she wondered if they felt like feathers or fur.
She hovered around the area for a while, before heading off to check out the rest of the attractions.
Along the path to the big tent were juggling clowns and tumblers. She leant against the wall of a caravan for a moment and watched as one taught small children to spin a cartwheel. Maybe if they got good enough then they would eventually take the clown's job, she mused. Her dad had taught her to do cartwheels, before he went away, but she wasn’t sure if she could still do one, and didn’t feel inclined to try here in public.
There was a booth selling hot sausages in bread, and another selling sticks of hard candy wrapped in paper. Her stomach growled, and she lowered her gaze slightly, keeping an eye out for dropped coins. It was amazing how much money there was in the gutters and verges if you just kept an eye out for it.
The circus was a city in itself, and although she had been to this field before, the circus made it into another world. Along another path she found games. For a half-penny, you could throw horseshoes or bowl down pegs. A small area had been set aside, where you could wrestle the “strongarm”, whatever that was, but it was deserted right now, whoever operated it away on break. There were bowling games and throwing games and many other little attractions.
She wandered through the circus for the rest of the afternoon, until her stomach hurt and her feet ached. She had gotten lucky, and found a penny on the floor as the light started to dim and the lamps started to come out, and was still trying to decide if she wanted to spend it on food, or if she wanted to see the show.
She decided on food. The circus had finished setting up yesterday, and would be in town for another two weeks, so she had plenty of time to sneak back in if she wanted.
Sitting on a small wooden bench, eating the hot sausage wrapped in bread, she felt almost as if she was watching herself from the outside. She could almost see herself, thin, her hair was too long, two days late for a bath. The kid who had cut her hair last time had moved on, and she hadn't the tools to do it herself. The clothes she was wearing were all a size too big and her trousers held up with a piece of rope she’d scavenged from the docks. She had taken a needle and thread to the cuffs, but the work was already starting to come apart.
She was fourteen, and she had been living on the streets since she was eleven. She wasn’t an orphan or anything tragic, things at home simply hadn’t worked out. She didn’t think back on it, what was past was past.
She licked the sausage grease off her fingers and took the time to watch what was going on around her. The show had started and most of the visitors had either gone inside or home, and around her the tents and booths were all closing for the night. Behind her there was a clatter, as the owner of the food cart folded down the shutters, locking them up tight. She looked back at them, motioning at the bench, but the stall owner shook their head. It was fine, they didn’t need to put it away just yet and she wasn't taking the space from anyone.
The circus people were walking around, picking up the litter and paper that had accrued over the day, making the most of the lull while the show was running. On the wind, she could smell somebody cooking dinner, and she wondered why they didn’t try and sell food after the show. She supposed that it was a long day for them as it was, no need to make it longer. From the big tent came the sound of laughter and the barking of dogs, and she made a promise to herself that she would scrounge up the money for it, some other night.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
She waved to the stall owner and pushed herself up off the bench, back to wandering. She didn’t have anywhere to go tonight. The doorway she had been using as a den for the past few weeks had been taken over by a couple of adults, and she wasn’t in the mood to fight for it. It hadn’t been much anyway, only a forgotten porch behind a shop.
The weather was good, so she would most likely settle down somewhere on the greenways, soft grass for a mattress.
For the moment though, she meandered around the closed attractions, pretending she had a home waiting for her. A warm fire, a family, candlelight and books. A mother who cared about her and a dad who wasn’t the man her mother had shacked up with after her real dad had left.
She shook her head, as if to physically dislodge the thought. No good would come of dwelling on it.
She ended up back near the petting area, and stopped to stare up at one of the main attractions of the circus, a huge imposing animal the size of a house. She had seen it pull most of the caravan into town all on its own the previous day, and seeing it up close was quite something.
The thing was at least three times her height, taller than most buildings, and was covered in a thick shaggy fur. She knew from seeing it during the day that the fur was striped like a tabby cat, but in the evening light, the whole beast looked like nothing other than a huge shape against the horizon.
She wondered how, and what, they fed it. Some of the other kids had said the ringmaster had to feed it two children a trip. One to get it to enter the town and one to get it to leave, but she was somewhat sceptical of the veracity of their sources. Others had said it ate criminals, and one kid had insisted that they fed it whole trees, all in one piece.
It had a long trunk coming out of the front of its face, which had gotten giggles and nudges from the older kids. The thought of it made her a little wary, even more so than the tusks or the curved horns atop its head, like the biggest goat she had ever seen.
It seemed to be asleep right now though, unmoving apart from a slight rise and fall of its massive sides, but she made sure to keep well back either way.
Shoving her hands back in her pockets and shivering in the evening chill, she prepared herself to leave. The show would be kicking out soon, and she’d rather be out of here before the influx of people hit. Best to find a spot to sleep, before all the good ones were taken.
As she walked towards the official exit, she kept an eye on her surroundings, giving a start as she suddenly saw somebody she knew. Behind one of the caravans were a group of teenagers, around her own age, and she recognised one of them. His name was Berrygreen, and he had disappeared almost a year earlier.
Huh, guess she knew where he’d gone, now. People disappeared all the time, so she hadn't thought much of it, but she was glad he wasn’t dead.
She hesitated for a moment, and then headed over to the group. Those who don't ask, don't get!
The group looked up curiously as she approached. They were sitting around a small cook-fire, a pot of vegetable stew between them. She eyed Berrygreen, wondering what to say and wishing she'd thought this out before marching over.
“Homeless?” one of the kids asked, and she moved her gaze. They were probably a year older than her. It was hard to see features in the firelight, but their hair was cropped short and their clothes seemed clean.
She nodded, “yeah.” and they patted the ground on their left.
She paused for a moment, and then sat. The grass was cool and slightly damp in the evening air, but the fire was warm against her face and she was glad to be off her feet.
“Orphan?” another asked, and she shook her head. “Nah, runaway.”
“Ah. Can’t blame you really.” She wasn't sure if it was the same person as had spoken before or a different one, but the accent of their words told her they were a he.
She shrugged in response, it wasn’t something she was going to go into. A moment later somebody handed her a bowl of stew, and the conversation lapsed as everyone ate.
It wasn’t the best thing she’d ever eaten, but it was far from the worst, and there was enough to go around.
Food eaten, she glanced at Berrygreen, thinking through what she should say to him. Thankfully he spoke first, “you were one of Lizardlegs’ girls, right?”
She nodded, thankful that it wasn't her that had to open the conversation, “surprised you remember, Berrygreen right?" he nodded, "you’ve been gone a while.”
He nodded again, and beside him, she saw the other two figures relax slightly.
“Lizardlegs was a good sort. How’s she doing?” Berrygreen said.
"Ah," Dreamspears grimaced, “Got herself partnered last uh, spring, she doesn’t help us no more.”
He copied her expression, and it looked like a festival mask, all the lines of his face outlined and exaggerated in the firelight. “Ah.”
She nodded, "Ah indeed." and for a while there was silence.
He seemed lost in thought, staring into the fire. She wondered if they'd been close.
He finally looked up, “you uh, found somewhere else to stay?”
She shook her head, “Nah, but I get by, gonna try down Anchor street tonight, there’s normally nobody about there.”
Berrygreen glanced between his companions, and they shrugged. Taking this as an ok, he spoke.
"There's always room here for one more” he started confident, and then immediately second-guessed himself, “if you wanna, of course. The work isn’t so bad, and we need somebody to look after the goats. Place doesn't pay much, but there’s food and shelter and it’s better than the streets, I guess.” He trailed off, and she thought she could see a blush on his cheeks, but it may have just been the heat of the fire.
She looked at the other two, “You guys don’t mind?”
“Nah,” Kid number one held out their hand, bumping his fist against hers, and she recognised the voice from earlier. “Welcome to the club. I’m Brightfeather.” She smiled at him, and the other figure held out their hand, doing the same thing with their fist, but having to lean over to reach her.
“I’m Washesblack.” She peered into the pot while she was leaning, and then ladled out the last of the soup into Dreamspears' bowl. “We were all the same here, my ma died, and Brightfeather took me in.”
Brightfeather nodded, “I got lost one day and never went home, ended up here.” He grinned, and she laughed, not many people wanted to talk about why they ended up on the streets, and she respected that.
That night she slept next to Berrygreen, underneath a caravan that smelled of paint and varnish and fresh new wood.