Once upon a time, there lived a boy who grew up in a not-so-good part of town. Lived a not-so-good sort of life, and met a not-so-good sort of end. Luckily, for us this story takes place elsewhere, somewhere far away, where that boy’s story has been left in the dust of time and fast-paced clownish shenanigans. 

The ringmaster does his normal shmidt, our introductions, some jokes, the usual. Same routine since I was seven. Same routine for eight years, but this time, he called our act out first.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome onto the stage The Castella Sisters!” 

I was dragged out by my sister’s glove, golden spotlights setting columns of dust on fire. Standing far above the crowded stands, I grab the bar. Behind curtains, the other trapeze artists waited to get called onto stage. Twirling past hanging star ornaments and swinging to the next bar. A practiced routine, one of the few bits of normalcy you can get in a place like this. Cherry stripes blend into the white of the cavernous tent as I whirl past Daniella. Maire gets called on, the three of us swinging and leaping and twirling in harmony. This was life in the circus.

The scene finally ends. One or two congratulations later, and open arms full of jealousy. I go out to greet and welcome the rest of the circus-goers. Loads of kids always turn up, sticky fingers from cotton candy and kooky smiles. 

“Dona, I’m not feeling so well. I’ll head back to the tent and leave the rest of the greetings up to you and Naveen,” My sister swooshed away giving her classic, silly godby “See you in the stars,” Once I slipped her a thumbs up so she’d leave and I continued to be a glorified party princess. Naveen dipped once three or four other kids got picked up by their parents. Not too long later, once the sky turned from red to purple to blue, there was a scream. 

“Help! Somebody help, Please!” Who was that? I debated hiding or running or getting these kids to their parents. The entire circus was buzzing with distress, parents too. I was ushering the children closer to the tent and further from the initial scream.

“Esteemed guests of Manny’s Circus, don’t worry!” Crackled the loudspeaker above me. I wanted to check in on Dani, she could be worried for me.

 “There is no danger, keep enjoying the shows and buying the pretzels. The scream was just a prank by some adolescents. Keep calm and continue on with the festivities!”

“Ahem,” A gravely voice slapped me to attention. The Ringmaster, Manny. Better built for the military rather than a circus, he shooed the children away for a bit.

“Castella, ensure that these children don’t start asking questions about the accident, we wouldn’t need another daredevil to try to stir trouble again, would we? We needn’t a repeat of last time.” Last time Marie had approached an inspector to talk, then… Then she was dragged kicking into Manny’s tent. She was apathetic and cold for a week since then, rather than soft and confident like she used to be. Never quite changed, never quite the same. “You’re dismissed, go attend to your sister. I heard she wasn’t feeling… well.”

I weave through the crowds for our shared tent like a bee to a rose, something about how Manny said that rubbed me the wrong way.