Jassy Melson
11-04-2011, 04:14 PM
It was getting close to the second show and I had made my first round of the evening, walking the circuit around the entire circus, checking the security crew to see that they were at their posts. I stood at the backside of the entertainers' section and looked out over all the trailers and trucks.
Then the door of a compartment opened and there was Hidy standing in the doorway.
He was all made-up in his clown outfit: a baggy red-and-yellow-checked jump suit with big powder puff buttons, Charlie Chaplin shoes, white gloves and a red ruff round his neck, a red fright wig and his face painted white. Cotton candy eyebrows, a round red rubber nose and a blood-red circle around his lips completed the picture.
I chuckled aloud at the sight of him. He slowly turned his head and saw me. I walked toward him and he placed a hand over his heart, looked up into the evening sky, and spoke: “Alas, poor Knox, I knew him fairly well.”
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“What am I doing here. That is the question. Why, my dear Knox, I'm just clowning around.” He sniggered. “I love cliches, they're all so true.”
“I thought you were fired. I don't guess you were.”
“Ah, yes, but alas and alack, I was indeed, shall I say, terminated.” He carefully lowered himself down in the doorway of the compartment, grimacing with the effort.
“Well, what—is—uh--” I began and then faltered.
Hidy looked at me and smiled. “You have a thousand questions to ask me; well, at least one or two. Am I right?”
“Yeah, you're right.”
“Well, spit them out, sir. I will do my utmost to satisfy your morbid curiosity.”
“What are you doing, dressed up. I mean, you were fired.”
“Yes, that I was. What am I doing? I'm going to give master Young—and the audience—a free show. They'll roar tonight.”
“You're going to—uh...”
“Yes, I'm going to perform. I don't foresee any problem. Master Young shouldn't object. After all, it's not costing him anything; he's getting my comic genius for free. I'm donating this last performance. Call it a benefit.”
“Why did it happen?” I asked. “What was the deal about young Young? Why did he...I mean, I saw him last night, what he did, tripping you, and the fight this morning. Why did he...why did old man Young--”
I halted, wagging my head. I had the feeling this whole circus deal was way over my head.
“Ah, yes, the fight,” Hidy said, lightly tapping his cheekbone. “It only hurts when I chortle.” He gave out a snort. “What's the deal with young Young? With old man Young? What, in other words, was their motivation? My dear Knox, why does the planet Venus rotate clockwise, contrary to the spin of the other planets and its own motion around the sun? What is the grass? Why does the Devil have two left feet and three testicles? Mysteries, without any clues.” He slightly wagged his head, and then rasped : “There are no answers”
“Well, what are you going to do after—uh...” I began and then fell silent.
“What am I going to do? That is your question. Didn't I just say that there are no answers?...I don't know, my friend, what's going to happen after the show. I do know this: I'm not going to just fade into the twilight.”
He reached out and grasped the door frame and lifted himself up. “It's almost time for the show.”
I looked around and saw the flag atop the big top fluttering in the evening breeze.. “Yeah, getting to be that time.”
“Hasta la vista, Knox, and remember this--”
He placed a hand over his heart, opened his mouth wide, twitched his eyebrows and twirled his eyes.
I laughed in spite of myself
I entered the big top and saw young Young across the way at his microphone-stand, dressed in his red ringmaster's coat. He introduced the clowns and they scurried out. I chuckled at young Young when he caught sight of Hidy. He tilted his head and looked in disbelief as Hidy lurched forward and entered the center ring. Then he narrowed his eyes, clamped his mouth, and stalked away.
Hidy carried a burlap bag. He set the bad down, and, as he was bent over, a clown came up and kicked him in his rear. Hidy chased the clown around the ring, and then they pantomimed a duel. They faced each other with long barrel revolvers. Hidy pulled the trigger and a loud pop sounded and the flag with the bang on it unfurled. The other clown's revolver was a squirt gun and he squirted Hidy with it. The crowd murmured but it didn't laugh.
Then Hidy went through the pantomime of being hypnotized and losing his hair. He stood there, patting his skullcap, and then a dejected look came over him. He bent over and rummaged in the burlap bag. The other clown again kicked him in the rear. Again, the audience tittered but it didn't laugh. Hidy kept rummaging in the bag. Then he stood and shambled to the forefront of the center ring. He stepped onto a wooden block and gave a swift glance over the crowd, and then he raised his arm and placed a gun against his temple. The audience gave out a kind of murmur of satisfaction, as if it knew something that the clown didn't know.
Hidy opened his mouth and grinned a skull-like grin. His eyes bulged, and he called out: “Laugh, you bastards, laugh!”
The audience gasped at hearing the word bastards. Then, here and there, among the audience, laughter erupted.
A second before Hidy pulled the trigger I recognized the gun. My heart thudded and No! screamed from the pit of my belly and was forcing its way into my mouth when Hidy pulled the trigger.
The blast roared through the big top.
I guess I kind of sleepwalked through the rest of that evening. It wasn't until the circus reached the next town that I began to wonder...
I stood and watched as the big top was put up. Then it struck me.
The show was going to go on. The circus would be put up, two shows would be presented, then the circus would be dismantled, and the next day it would move on to its next destination.
Nothing had changed. Hidy's death meant nothing to the circus. The mighty Young and Long Traveling Circus went on as before.
I suddenly felt a numbed sickness...
The horror and hideousness of the circus's indifference...
I shuddered at that truth....
In the early afternoon I wandered into the mess tent. The lunch hour was nearly over; a few stragglers sat eating at the tables.
I got a bowl of greasy stew and a cold piece of cornbread.
“Huy-yooo,” I heard Hacker call. I went over to where he sat.
“It's the chief—of insecurity,” Hacker greeted me.
“In the flesh,” I replied. “I don't know about the spirit.”
Cap materialized, walking toward us. He sat beside me.
A flock of questions rose up within me, converging into one.
“Why?” I asked aloud. “Why did he...”
“He made his choice,” Hacker said quietly. “In a way, he was lucky.”
“Lucky?” I asked in disbelief.
“Yeah,” Hacker replied. “He chose his own time and place. How many people get to do that?”
I wagged my head and weakly grinned. “Lucky,” I murmured.
“Yeah,” Hacker said emphatically, “he was. He knew what was going on. He knew what the deal was. But instead of having it drag out for a few years, he took matters into his own hands. It was a happy demise.”
I wanted to shout No! It was not! But deep down in my gut, I knew it was true.
“I wonder about the funeral,” I said. “When it'll be.”
“Probably tomorrow,” Cap spoke up. “Two days after is customary.”
“We'll be two, maybe three hundred miles away by then,” I said.
“Yep,” Cap replied. “That's the way it goes. No matter what happens, the circus rolls at dawn.”
Some things just happen. They aren't planned or anticipated. And thought doesn't play a part in them...
I went into the rec tent to get a Coke. Young Young stood by a table, drinking a beer and talking to a couple of circus band members who sat, sipping beers and looking up at him.
As I passed by, I heard young Young say the word Hidy, and then he snorted and chortled.
My body took over, leaving my thought in the dust. My arm snaked out and I hit him real hard with my fist right on his nose. The blow knocked him down and he sprawled on his back, gasping.
A sharp bolt of pain shot all the way up my arm to my shoulder, and I figured I had sprained or maybe even broken my hand. And yet, in spite of the pain and the knowledge that by hitting young Young I had in effect terminated my employment with the circus, I smiled; and for the first time since I had joined the circus I felt really clean.
I went to the trailer, packed my stuff, left the circus and headed for town and the bus station.
Where was I going?
Was I running away or running to something?
Oh, I was running to something, definitely...Yes.
I smiled in spite of my throbbing hand and arm.
Where was I going? I had decided to go south, to New Mexico, or maybe Arizona.
But first I had a trip to make east—a hundred and thirty miles. I had a funeral to attend.
Then the door of a compartment opened and there was Hidy standing in the doorway.
He was all made-up in his clown outfit: a baggy red-and-yellow-checked jump suit with big powder puff buttons, Charlie Chaplin shoes, white gloves and a red ruff round his neck, a red fright wig and his face painted white. Cotton candy eyebrows, a round red rubber nose and a blood-red circle around his lips completed the picture.
I chuckled aloud at the sight of him. He slowly turned his head and saw me. I walked toward him and he placed a hand over his heart, looked up into the evening sky, and spoke: “Alas, poor Knox, I knew him fairly well.”
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“What am I doing here. That is the question. Why, my dear Knox, I'm just clowning around.” He sniggered. “I love cliches, they're all so true.”
“I thought you were fired. I don't guess you were.”
“Ah, yes, but alas and alack, I was indeed, shall I say, terminated.” He carefully lowered himself down in the doorway of the compartment, grimacing with the effort.
“Well, what—is—uh--” I began and then faltered.
Hidy looked at me and smiled. “You have a thousand questions to ask me; well, at least one or two. Am I right?”
“Yeah, you're right.”
“Well, spit them out, sir. I will do my utmost to satisfy your morbid curiosity.”
“What are you doing, dressed up. I mean, you were fired.”
“Yes, that I was. What am I doing? I'm going to give master Young—and the audience—a free show. They'll roar tonight.”
“You're going to—uh...”
“Yes, I'm going to perform. I don't foresee any problem. Master Young shouldn't object. After all, it's not costing him anything; he's getting my comic genius for free. I'm donating this last performance. Call it a benefit.”
“Why did it happen?” I asked. “What was the deal about young Young? Why did he...I mean, I saw him last night, what he did, tripping you, and the fight this morning. Why did he...why did old man Young--”
I halted, wagging my head. I had the feeling this whole circus deal was way over my head.
“Ah, yes, the fight,” Hidy said, lightly tapping his cheekbone. “It only hurts when I chortle.” He gave out a snort. “What's the deal with young Young? With old man Young? What, in other words, was their motivation? My dear Knox, why does the planet Venus rotate clockwise, contrary to the spin of the other planets and its own motion around the sun? What is the grass? Why does the Devil have two left feet and three testicles? Mysteries, without any clues.” He slightly wagged his head, and then rasped : “There are no answers”
“Well, what are you going to do after—uh...” I began and then fell silent.
“What am I going to do? That is your question. Didn't I just say that there are no answers?...I don't know, my friend, what's going to happen after the show. I do know this: I'm not going to just fade into the twilight.”
He reached out and grasped the door frame and lifted himself up. “It's almost time for the show.”
I looked around and saw the flag atop the big top fluttering in the evening breeze.. “Yeah, getting to be that time.”
“Hasta la vista, Knox, and remember this--”
He placed a hand over his heart, opened his mouth wide, twitched his eyebrows and twirled his eyes.
I laughed in spite of myself
I entered the big top and saw young Young across the way at his microphone-stand, dressed in his red ringmaster's coat. He introduced the clowns and they scurried out. I chuckled at young Young when he caught sight of Hidy. He tilted his head and looked in disbelief as Hidy lurched forward and entered the center ring. Then he narrowed his eyes, clamped his mouth, and stalked away.
Hidy carried a burlap bag. He set the bad down, and, as he was bent over, a clown came up and kicked him in his rear. Hidy chased the clown around the ring, and then they pantomimed a duel. They faced each other with long barrel revolvers. Hidy pulled the trigger and a loud pop sounded and the flag with the bang on it unfurled. The other clown's revolver was a squirt gun and he squirted Hidy with it. The crowd murmured but it didn't laugh.
Then Hidy went through the pantomime of being hypnotized and losing his hair. He stood there, patting his skullcap, and then a dejected look came over him. He bent over and rummaged in the burlap bag. The other clown again kicked him in the rear. Again, the audience tittered but it didn't laugh. Hidy kept rummaging in the bag. Then he stood and shambled to the forefront of the center ring. He stepped onto a wooden block and gave a swift glance over the crowd, and then he raised his arm and placed a gun against his temple. The audience gave out a kind of murmur of satisfaction, as if it knew something that the clown didn't know.
Hidy opened his mouth and grinned a skull-like grin. His eyes bulged, and he called out: “Laugh, you bastards, laugh!”
The audience gasped at hearing the word bastards. Then, here and there, among the audience, laughter erupted.
A second before Hidy pulled the trigger I recognized the gun. My heart thudded and No! screamed from the pit of my belly and was forcing its way into my mouth when Hidy pulled the trigger.
The blast roared through the big top.
I guess I kind of sleepwalked through the rest of that evening. It wasn't until the circus reached the next town that I began to wonder...
I stood and watched as the big top was put up. Then it struck me.
The show was going to go on. The circus would be put up, two shows would be presented, then the circus would be dismantled, and the next day it would move on to its next destination.
Nothing had changed. Hidy's death meant nothing to the circus. The mighty Young and Long Traveling Circus went on as before.
I suddenly felt a numbed sickness...
The horror and hideousness of the circus's indifference...
I shuddered at that truth....
In the early afternoon I wandered into the mess tent. The lunch hour was nearly over; a few stragglers sat eating at the tables.
I got a bowl of greasy stew and a cold piece of cornbread.
“Huy-yooo,” I heard Hacker call. I went over to where he sat.
“It's the chief—of insecurity,” Hacker greeted me.
“In the flesh,” I replied. “I don't know about the spirit.”
Cap materialized, walking toward us. He sat beside me.
A flock of questions rose up within me, converging into one.
“Why?” I asked aloud. “Why did he...”
“He made his choice,” Hacker said quietly. “In a way, he was lucky.”
“Lucky?” I asked in disbelief.
“Yeah,” Hacker replied. “He chose his own time and place. How many people get to do that?”
I wagged my head and weakly grinned. “Lucky,” I murmured.
“Yeah,” Hacker said emphatically, “he was. He knew what was going on. He knew what the deal was. But instead of having it drag out for a few years, he took matters into his own hands. It was a happy demise.”
I wanted to shout No! It was not! But deep down in my gut, I knew it was true.
“I wonder about the funeral,” I said. “When it'll be.”
“Probably tomorrow,” Cap spoke up. “Two days after is customary.”
“We'll be two, maybe three hundred miles away by then,” I said.
“Yep,” Cap replied. “That's the way it goes. No matter what happens, the circus rolls at dawn.”
Some things just happen. They aren't planned or anticipated. And thought doesn't play a part in them...
I went into the rec tent to get a Coke. Young Young stood by a table, drinking a beer and talking to a couple of circus band members who sat, sipping beers and looking up at him.
As I passed by, I heard young Young say the word Hidy, and then he snorted and chortled.
My body took over, leaving my thought in the dust. My arm snaked out and I hit him real hard with my fist right on his nose. The blow knocked him down and he sprawled on his back, gasping.
A sharp bolt of pain shot all the way up my arm to my shoulder, and I figured I had sprained or maybe even broken my hand. And yet, in spite of the pain and the knowledge that by hitting young Young I had in effect terminated my employment with the circus, I smiled; and for the first time since I had joined the circus I felt really clean.
I went to the trailer, packed my stuff, left the circus and headed for town and the bus station.
Where was I going?
Was I running away or running to something?
Oh, I was running to something, definitely...Yes.
I smiled in spite of my throbbing hand and arm.
Where was I going? I had decided to go south, to New Mexico, or maybe Arizona.
But first I had a trip to make east—a hundred and thirty miles. I had a funeral to attend.