‘See ya.’ She smiled and flounced away.
‘So, Kelsey, I guess you get to be my sidekick today, huh? Well, you’ll love it,’ he said, teasing me. ‘I run the tickets and souvenir booths, and I’m the trash collector and stock boy. I basically do everything around here that needs to get done. My dad’s the circus animal trainer.’
‘That’s a cool job,’ I replied and joked, ‘It sounds better than a trash collector anyway.’
Matt laughed. ‘Let’s get going then,’ he said.
We spent the next few hours hauling boxes, stocking the concession stand, and preparing for the public.
Ugh, I’m out of shape, I thought as my biceps protested and tried to unionize against me.
Dad always used to say, ‘Hard work keeps you grounded’ whenever Mom would come up with a massive new project like planting a flower garden. He was infinitely patient, and when I complained about the extra work, he’d just smile and say, ‘Kells, when you love someone, you learn to give and take. Someday that will happen to you too.’
Somehow, I doubted this was one of those situations.
When everything was ready, Matt sent me over to Cathleen to pick out and change into a circus costume – which turned out to be gold, glittery, and something I normally wouldn’t have touched with a ten-foot pole.
This job better be worth it, I muttered under my breath and crammed my head through the shiny neckline.
Donned in my new sparkly getup, I walked out to the ticket booth and saw that Matt had put up the price board. He was waiting for me with instructions, the lock box, and a ring of tickets. He had also brought me a sack lunch.
‘It’s show time. Chow down quick because a couple of buses of summer camp kids are on their way.’
Before I could finish eating, the camp children descended upon me in a raucous, violent flurry of little bodies. I felt like tiny buffalo were stampeding over me. My customer service-like smile probably looked more like a frightened grimace. There was nowhere for me to run. They were all around me – each one clamoring for my attention.
The adults approached, and I asked them hopefully, ‘Are you all paying together or separately?’
One of the teachers responded, ‘Oh, no. We decided to let each child buy a ticket.’
‘That’s great,’ I muttered with a fake smile.
I began selling the tickets, and Cathleen soon joined me until I heard the music of the performance begin. I sat there for about twenty minutes more, but nobody else came in, so I locked the money box and found Matt inside the tent watching the show.
The man I’d met earlier that morning was the ringleader. ‘What’s his name?’ I whispered to Matt.
‘Agostino Maurizio,’ he replied. ‘He’s the owner of the circus, and the acrobats are all members of his family.’
Mr. Maurizio brought out the clowns, acrobats, and jugglers, and I found myself enjoying the performance. Before long, though, Matt elbowed me and motioned to the souvenir stand. Intermission was going to start soon: time to sell balloons.
Together we blew up dozens of multicolored balloons with a helium tank. The kids were in a frenzy! They ran to every booth and counted out their coins so they could spend every penny.
Red seemed to be the most popular balloon color. Matt took the money while I inflated the balloons. I’d never done it before, and I popped a few, which startled the kids, but I tried to make the loud pops into a joke by shouting, ‘Whoopsie!’ every time it happened. Pretty soon, they were yelling, ‘Whoopsie!’ along with me.
The music began again, and the kids quickly filed back to their seats, clutching their assorted purchases. Several of the kids had bought glow-in-the-dark swords and were waving them around, threatening each other gleefully.
As we sat down, Matt’s dad came into the ring to do his dog show. Then the clowns came out again and played various tricks on audience members. One threw a bucket of confetti over the kids.
Great! I probably get to sweep all that up.
Next, Mr. Maurizio came back out. Dramatic safari hunting music began, and the circus lights extinguished quickly, as if they had been mysteriously blown out. A spotlight found the announcer in the center of the ring. ‘And now . . . the highlight of our programma! He was taken from the harsh, wild giungla, the jungles, of India and brought here to America. He is a fierce hunter, a cacciatore bianco, who stalks his prey in the wild, waiting, watching for the right time, and then, he . . . springs into action! Movimento!’
While he was talking, men brought out a large, round cage. It was shaped like a giant upside-down bowl with a chain-link fence tunnel attached to one side. They set it in the middle of the ring and clamped locks onto metal rings embedded in cement blocks.
Mr. Maurizio continued. He roared into the microphone, and the kids all jumped in their seats. I laughed at Mr. Maurizio’s theatrics. He was a good storyteller. He proclaimed, ‘This tigre is one of the most pericoloso – dangerous – predators in the entire world! Watch our trainer carefully as he risks his life to bring you . . . Dhiren!’ He jerked his head toward the right, and then he ran out of the ring as the spotlight moved over to the canvas flaps at the end of the building. Two men had pulled out an old-fashioned animal wagon.
It looked like the kind of wagon on a box of animal crack-ers. It had a white, curvy gilt-edged top, big black wheels painted white around the edges, and ornamental carved spokes that were painted gold. Black metal bars on both sides of the wagon curved in an arch at the top.
A ramp from the wagon door was attached to the chain-link tunnel, as Matt’s dad entered the cage. He set up three stools on the side of the cage opposite from where he stood. He had changed into an impressive golden costume and brandished a short whip.
‘Release the tiger!’ he commanded.
The doors opened, and a man standing by the cage prodded the animal. I held my breath as an enormous white tiger emerged from the cage, trotted down the ramp, and into the chain-link tunnel. A moment later, it was in the big cage with Matt’s father. The whip cracked, and the tiger jumped up onto a stool. Another crack and the tiger stood on its hind legs and pawed the air with its claws. The crowd erupted into applause.
The tiger leapt from stool to stool while Matt’s father kept pulling the stools farther and farther away. On the last leap, I held my breath. I wasn’t sure if the tiger would make it to the other stool, but Matt’s father encouraged it. Gathering itself, it crouched low, assessed the distance carefully, and then leapt across the breach.
Its entire body was airborne for several seconds, with its legs stretched out ahead and behind. It was a magnificent animal. Reaching the stool with its front paws, it shifted its weight, and landed its back feet gracefully. Turning on the small stool, it rotated its large body with ease, and sat, facing its trainer.
I clapped for a long time, totally in awe of the great beast.
The tiger roared on command, stood on its hind legs, and batted its paws in the air. Matt’s father shouted another command. The tiger jumped down from the stool and ran around the cage in a circle. The trainer circled as well, keeping his eyes centered on the animal. He kept the whip just behind the tiger’s tail, encouraging it to keep moving.
Matt’s dad gave a signal and a young man passed a large ring though the cage – a hoop. The tiger leapt through the hoop, then quickly turned around and jumped back through again and again.