The one where Billy loses everything and decides to run away and find his purpose only to join the circus on a whim and find more than what he hoped for.
(Inspired by the film: Water For Elephants)
TW: Abuse and strong language
Around 1946, Donna Hargrove took the family car to do her weekly grocery shopping only to never come home. No search party or missing person’s report was filed for her as she cleared out her wardrobe before she took off, meaning she didn’t want to be found. Billy could understand why she chose to leave, after all- Dad wasn’t the same after he came back from the war. That didn’t mean it hurt less…
Billy was 10 when she left, and for 8 years, he put up with his father who seemed to lose himself more and more every day. The doctors called it shell shock; it was common in veterans who served in particular gruesome battles during the war. Some had trouble sleeping, some fell flat whenever a loud clap sounded off near them. His dad drank. A lot. And when he drank, he beat Billy black and blue for absolutely no reason at all. Billy dealt with this silently for a long time, reverting to boosting liquor and cigarettes from corner stores to finish off by the river with his equally fucked up friends.
The day he graduated was the day he decided to end this chapter of his life and find his purpose. Billy collected his diploma, robe-less, with a bruised eye socket and a suitcase in hand. He wasn’t going to spend another minute in the house of Neil Hargrove. College wasn’t for him either. In fact, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do, he just knew he had to get far away from this shitty town in the middle of nowhere and go to California.
Billy hitchhiked from road to road and walked along the overgrown paths and train tracks whenever the cars ran scarce. One quiet, clear night, he walked along one such track while counting the money he had left. Not enough to boy even one plate of food. Shit. He was gonna have to do something and fast or else he’d never make it to California. As if destiny herself sent it, a slow train passed. It wasn’t a passenger train, nor a freight, but a circus train. These things always traveled from town to town, and it was very likely that this one could stop in California at some point. Billy took a literal leap of faith without even pondering further on the thought and jumped, pulling himself into the first open carriage he saw.
Heaving on the stale straw covering the wooden floor of the carriage, a musky yet comforting smell filled his nose. Some people in raggedy clothes and caked patches of dirty white makeup on their faces turned to look at him. They were eating a stew cooked on a little propane stove in the middle of their circle, all scooping from the same pot with spoons and chunks of bread. Billy slowly turned his head to look at them. His mouth feeling drier than ever and desperate for a taste of that gruel cooking a few feet away.
“This ain’t no place for bums, boy.” One spoke gruffly.
“I’m no bum…” Billy sassed lowly.
“He’s right, Stan. Look at his clothes. He’s cleaner than us.” Another noted.
“We don’t offer free rides, boy.” A third man spoke sternly.
Billy reached in his pocket and held out the last of the money he had. Barely enough to buy a single loaf of bread. The men burst out laughing.
“Now what the fuck are we supposed to do with 15 cents?!” The first man hollered.
“That can get you to the next bridge! We can throw you off there!” The third man laughed.
Billy pointed to the pot. “I want some of that…” He murmured.
The second man shrugged “Shoot boy. This ain’t cheap. Gonna need more than that…”
“Come on…” Billy frowned.
The second man took a bite of his bread before dusting his hands. “We supposed to shovel out the horse straw before the next stop. Do that and we’ll feed ya. But that’s all we can do. One plate then we’re throwing you off-“
“Now who said y’all can hire someone on my behalf?” A man who just walked into the carriage asked. He wore a debonair three piece with a bright red blazer dotted with rhinestones.
The third man pointed to Billy. “Just jumped on and wants our dinner in exchange for 15 cents.”
The man in the red blazer laughed right from the gut. “15 cents for shithouse gruel cooked up by 3 clowns!” He hollered. After settling down, he wiped a tear from his eye. “Look son, nobody lives on my train for free. Now if you wanna eat you gotta work. Where you headed to anyway?”
Billy slowly sat up. “California…” He replied simply.
The man in the red blazer perked up a bit. “We scheduled for a show in Pasadena in July. Tell you what. We’ll take you there but in exchange for a ride and a hot meal every day, you gotta work, and we ain’t paying you. Business has been tough and frankly we can’t afford more squatters like you. You in?” He asked in a more serious tone.
Billy nodded without hesitation. “Yessir.” It would sure beat walking all and starving before he gets to California.
“Then welcome to the circus, boy.” The man nods. Before leaving he snapped his fingers and pointed to a rack where various gardening and maintenance equipment was kept. “Hop to it. The man said he needs the horse straw cleared out then you can eat.”
Billy got up and got to work. After completing his first job, he was given a chunk of semi-stale bread and whatever was left in the pot along with a generous swig of moonshine the men stashed under a hay bale. Billy, tuckered out from the events of the day, fell asleep almost immediately on a makeshift bed right there.
The next morning the train stopped by an open show field where the circus will be pitched for the weekend. Billy was woken up bright and early to help set up the enormous tent before noon. The show must start that very night and everything had to be ready. Billy was strong and young which made him useful in getting the hard labours done. By midday, just as the final preparations were being done, the moneymakers came out of their carriages towards the front of the train. The moneymakers as the labourers described them were the performers people came to see. The animals, freaks and the stars. The stars weren’t like the labourers or clowns. No, they were the main attractions, the ones in the glittering leotards doing fantastic tricks people all over came to see. They were the acrobats, contortionists, belly dancers, tamers and trapeze artists. They came out of their carriages clean as new whistles, already dolled up and sparkling like sparklers on the 4th of July.
The labourers whistled as a few of the dancers passed. The second man Billy met the previous night, known only as Happy pointed to the group of glittering performers, making their way to their individual prep stations. “Those ain’t clowns, boy. Those are the ones people come to see. The littl’ones come to see the animals, but the grown-ups come for those-“
He pointed to a bevy of stunning, lithe performers. They wore white leotards. The women had intricate laced cutouts dotted with jewels that made them seem almost naked but not in a vulgar way like some seedy peepshow broads, these ladies were ethereal, like fairies. The men were the same to a point, more masculine and less bejewelled. Their leotards sat skin-tight to show off their slim, toned bodies.
And then- he saw him. A tall drink of water with soft, dark hair and skin almost translucent. He wore a silvery ensemble with white sequins forming intricate patterns down his chest piece. He was stunningly beautiful, masculine but dainty at the same time. Stunning.
“And that one?” Billy asked. “The uhm- one who looks like he has a silver stick up his ass?”
Happy looked over at the man Billy referred to. “That one? That’s Harrington. He’s a trapeze artist and the only one who can flip mid air without a safety net under him. The boss is fighting for his life every day to keep him here because the other circuses are trying to poach him. About a quarter of the daily earnings goes to keeping him here. He’s the big money maker.”
Billy could not stop thinking about Harrington for the rest of the day and found himself almost fired on one occasion when he was staring into an overflowing bucket of water, hyper fixated on the glittering water and how it reminded him of the sequins on Harrington’s leotard.
“Hey! Time is money!” A supervising labourer yelled towards Billy, snapping him out of his trance.
That night, Billy peeked the entire show through a slit in the tent, waiting anxiously to see this trapeze performance that drew crowds. And boy… When he did see it, he swore his very breath was stolen. Harrington was as graceful and swift as a falcon, flying through the air from one measly swing to another, beam to beam without a net. The crowd gasped every time he let a trapeze go to sail through the air to another, flipping and twirling with each launch.
Billy haven’t spent much attention in church as a child and never read more than a few Psalms. He knew only two religious holidays and the main stories of the Bible as well as the Ten Commandments, more than that he didn’t know and didn’t really care for.
But one thing he was certain about, more certain than anything he ever learned about concerning religion, and that was that angels were real and he was looking at one right now.
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