The Circus by Kestral Volta (desktop ebook reader txt) 📕

usually did and that was talk to ghosts. The group of acrobatic dancers Alex liked to call the Bendies were doing the usual as well. Tomas, the magician was going to do a brief performance. Only Dorothy, the escapologist wasn’t performing, as it was her evening off to sit and watch the rehearsals and the show.
Alex pushed aside his breakfast and started his chores for the day. Dane always gave Alex long list of chores to do to help out with the running of the circus. He made for his caravan, when a black Labrador came bounding up to him, tail wagging, a red, rubber ball in its mouth.
“Hey Bowser!” Alex greeted the dog. Bowser belonged to one of the Thertin, one of the acrobats, and was mostly disliked by the other performers, as he was so hyperactive, always looking for someone to play with. Alex reached down for the ball that was lodged in the dog’s mouth. He grunted as he pulled it from it’s mouth. Raising his arm, Alex threw the ball as far as he could into a cluster of trees. “Fetch!” whispered Alex as the dog sped off.
Hurrying away for fear Bowser may come back and demand a rematch, Alex looked at the first job on the list.
Clean out Mike’s cage.
Great. Dane had a mouse called Mike. Somehow, Alex always ended up with the job of feeding and cleaning out it’s cage. Alex wandered off, slowly in the direction of Dane’s caravan. He let himself in- it was always unlocked.
Cleaning the cage took no time at all; in fact, it was possibly the easiest job in the world! The only difficult bit was trying to get Mike in and out of his ball. Mike hated being handled, so while Alex’s large hand was grasping for the white rodent, Mike was busy dodging and diving.
After half an hour playing ‘catch-the-mouse’ with Mike, Alex left the caravan and looked around. Everyone was probably practicing for the performance and setting up the stage in the huge tent people called the ‘stage tent’. It was too small to be called a Big Top, so the performers called it the stage tent. He could see the top of it above a clump of trees as he wandered towards the centre of the deserted camp. Alex sat on a bench and looked up at the blue sky.
Looking down at his list of chores, Alex grimaced at his next chore.
Take Bowser for a walk.
Perfect! That meant leaving the camp. Alex went, solemnly back to his caravan to fetch his hoodie- he never left the camp without it.
Finding Bowser wasn’t easy, either. Alex hurried around the camp, leash in hand, shouting Bowser’s name. Just as he was on the point of giving up, a huge black blob came speeding towards him. Grabbing it’s neck and wrestling it to the ground, Alex managed to get Bowser into his leash before trying to hang onto the handle before Bowser could get away again.
After much struggle, Alex and Bowser walked, silently, from the campsite.
For Alex, it always felt strange to leave the campsite; he was so used to what went on in his surroundings of the circus that he had barely got to know what lay in the outside world. Sure, he had been out, but he hadn’t experienced it very much. Whenever he had run away, he had never been there long enough to really see. The same went for helping get supplies and walking the dog.
Alex followed the gravel path towards the town. The town was small and was heavily nucleated around the town square. Alex wandered through the narrow, pale-paved streets, gazing at the cream coloured houses with their pink roof slats. Most of the windows didn’t have pains, but different coloured shutters. The lampposts were old-fashioned and tall, green birch trees towered over the low buildings. The streets weren’t very busy, but whenever someone came, Alex reached up to his hood and pulled it further down his face. He didn’t know whether it was a conscious decision to do so, or whether it was just habit anymore, but Alex was so used to the disapproving groans and grunts from who he passed that he hardly noticed them anymore. As Alex neared the square, he glanced down at Bowser, who was gazing around wildly at his new surroundings, enjoying the walk. Alex glanced back up at the square. Right in the middle was a large memorial of some kind, at it’s base a pool of clear water. Alex caught a glimpse of copper coins at the bottom and, sitting on the smooth, pale wall around the pool, rolled up his sleeves and reached down into the cool water. He grasped at the money, coming up with a handful of coppers and a couple of silvers. He didn’t linger as the surrounding people seemed to have noticed and were shooting him dirty looks.
Alex was used to the opinions of people who lived in the towns they visited. Not many people liked travelling circus’, some even took it far enough to bombard them with eviction petitions and forced them off the land they had camped on. This was partly why they tried to avoid the authorities- so many people disliked them that if the public found out they were, for example, paying for the NHS to treat a gypsy, there would almost always be an uproar. If there was any reason for a circus member to go to a hospital, then they wouldn’t go without Dorothy taking a look first. She had once been a nurse and was experienced at stitching up wounds and the appropriate treatments.
Alex carried on down the street. He passed little cafe’s and small shops that gave the impression that this town was quite a rich town and took pride in it’s appearance. Alex then came across a large expanse of grass to his right. It disappeared on the other side of a hill, but looked as though it was surrounded by the same pale buildings and was used for recreational purposes. There were clusters of people dotted around, giving life to the grassy hill- some of these people were middle-aged women with push-chairs and others were elderly man and women. But what intimidated Alex most was the clusters of teenagers- girls dressed in miniskirts and smoking and boys dressed in sportswear and wearing caps on their heads, the odd one or two carrying bottles of alcohol. Most of them looked like the type to be aggressive and violent towards the way Alex looked. If he hurried, Alex estimated he could cross the hill quickly enough that the youths wouldn’t notice him. Yet Alex failed to remember his companion.
Bowser could be aggressive if he wanted to be. He sometimes took a disliking to a person and wouldn’t leave them alone, just stood there, staring and barking.
Alex started to cross the hill. All was well, until he got to the crest of the hill, the road that ringed the hill in his sights and beyond that was what looked like a junkyard. The junkyard stood there, in between the twee shops and cafes, incongruous to its surroundings. It almost looked lonely.
Alex was stopped suddenly by a harsh tug on Bowser’s lead. The huge black canine was snarling at a nearby group of guys who looked slightly older than Alex. He tried to pull Bowser away from the group, who had noticed and were staring, dumbly at the dog. Alex managed to gain Bowser’s attention and began to walk away quickly, but not quickly enough to hear the words “Hey! What’s wrong with your mutt, freak?” Alex blocked out any further insults and made for the junkyard, pulling his hood down over his face.
Had they seen? Maybe. He couldn’t be sure. He just hoped they hadn’t decided to follow him. He hoped, with all his heart that they hadn’t.
Alex entered the junkyard. His first impression was that it didn’t belong here. It took up most of the space behind the row of shops and went down a hill, stopping at what Alex guessed to be a low wall. He couldn’t see from here, but there was no harm in exploring. Alex weaved in and out of huge piles of waste- it was amazing what people threw out and just took for granted these days! He came across a huge pile of old TVs. Alex would never be able to afford a TV, how could people throw something out that was so expensive. Some of them probably still worked! And then there were things like scrap metal- Alex glimpsed several items that the circus had needed in the pat but had never been able to afford.
Alex carried on until he got to the middle of the junkyard before he heard something that made him stop in his tracks. The tiny scuffle of footsteps and a muffled laugh- the gang had followed him.
Shit!
Alex began to panic, but carried on walking- get to the wall. Get to the wall, over it and then run!
But two of the youths had jumped out from behind a huge mountain of car tyres and were coming towards him, confidently, with purpose. A purpose Alex daren’t contemplate.
Alex looked at the floor, shielding his face beneath his hood. He sensed presences behind him as well. They were close. Too close.
Suddenly, his hood was pulled from his head and Alex’s face was exposed in the bright light of the sun. There was silence and then shrill laughter from the guy who stood just in front of him. Alex’s heart was throwing itself against his ribcage and the guy took a step closer, examining his face, his face serious.
After a few, nail-biting moments, his expression turned to amusement- he started to laugh.
“What type of freak are you?” he asked in a deep voice.
Alex didn’t say anything, he knew better.
“Did you hear me, freak?” his voice rose a little as he gave Alex a gentle push on his shoulder. Alex didn’t reply.
He heard a few of the other guys behind him chuckle and murmur insults.
“I think he’s deaf.” Said the guy to the rest of the group. “You know what? I think its offensive to not answer someone when they’re talking to you. Don’t you?” he looked Alex in the eye.
And then a flare of pain exploded in Alex’s stomach. The guy withdrew his fist from Alex’s stomach and laughed. “I also think it’s offensive when you can’t even control your own mongrel in public!” he yelled.
Alex straightened up, but not without grimacing, only to be punched in the jaw. Alex found himself looking at Bowser, who was growling softly. Alex spat blood from his mouth and tried his best to ignore the pain. He had been beaten up before (too many times) and knew you had to hold it together. If you broke down, they’d use that as an advantage.
“I think he’s from those gypsies! You know? The ones who’ve camped in the forest clearing!” yelled one of the guys behind Alex.
The first guy looked down at Alex, who looked him straight in the eyes. “So, you’re that kind of freak! Well, gypsy-fucker, why don’t you run back to your little circus!” he shouted. Alex felt hands grab him from behind, holding him still while the first guy proceeded to pummel him in the face. The pain was all too familiar. Only, this time, something different happened.
“Keith! What the hell! Keith, stop it! Oh my God! What the hell are you doing?” yelled a female voice. It