Umbrellas and Tambourines

 The circus was in town that week.  Her father had promised to take her months ago, and already, it was the last night, and all she had gotten out of him was “We’ll go tomorrow.”  She couldn’t find it in her to have even had a spark of hope when he had promised  to go the day before it arrived, but her desires to visit the fair grounds were much too great and caused her to believe that he would come through this time around.  Now she regretted having had any faith in her dad.  Of course, a part of her understood why he couldn’t make it.  After her mother’s death a year ago, her dad had to work late hours, sometimes hiring a nanny to watch her, as she was only at the age of seven.

 

He had called an hour after her arrival home from Faith’s Elementary School, explaining to her that he would be coming home late that night, and due to the lack of readiness by any baby sitter, had informed her of the TV dinners in the freezer.  She was used to this routine.  Even though she was young, she had already matured to the age of a typical girl out on her own.  The fact of the matter was that she was not bothered by her father’s absence, but rather, by her father’s usual habit of breaking promises.

Locked away in her room, Susie gazed at the many books on her walls, bought by her mother, once read by her mother, but now, forgotten and lost to her in more ways than the usual.  The softness of her pink bed engulfed her in her anguish and she let out a deep breath of depression.  Behind closed eyes, she could see the circus now with its high-top tents, red and white striped, filled with high-wire acts and clowns on stilts.  She yearned to be old enough to leave and join it.  She wanted to be like the circus people.  She wanted to be free to touch the Heavens.  Instead, Susie was grounded by broken promises and false dreams.

She rolled over, her milky white arm draping over a chocolate colored teddy bear that her father had bought her once while he was on a trip in New York.  He got it at this shop called Build-A-Bear-Workshop, and in it, he had placed a button that repeated the words “I love you” whenever squeezed.  That was years ago, and the batteries that once gave the bear a voice had died from overuse.  Even the lilac tutu that the bear had worn was faded, almost white, from the times that it had to be washed because it had gotten dirty from mud or spills while eating.  After a while, Susie stopped dressing the bear, and now Teddy sat naked, exposed for the world.  And it was this unprotected quality that Susie shared with her Teddy.  The young girl felt stripped of all her childhood dreams and instead, felt old.

 

But old?  If she felt old, was she then old enough to take herself to the Circus?  Of course, she knew her father would not approve, but then again, how would he ever find out?  As long as she got back at a certain time, it would be alright.  She would be perfectly fine, and she would never be found out for having broken the rules.  This train of thought is what made little Susie rise from her bed, renewed by a ignition of newfound fiery life.  She grabbed her chair and moved it near her dresser, where she climbed on top of it and grabbed the light blue piggy bank atop the piece of furniture.  She felt the chair wobble under her weight and movements…

 

The coins were jingling in her pocket, seven years worth of birthday money and allowances for having done the dishes or set the table for dinner.  Though it was only six o’clock in the afternoon, the sky was already dark with foreboding clouds rushing overhead.  The smell of rain greeted her senses, yet Susie did not falter in stride.  Her head was high and her dreams were flying amongst the clouds.  She could hear the flapping of the circus tent up ahead, beating in tune with the music that erupted from within its confinements.  Her feet were hitting the pavement, harder and faster now, as she grew imaginary wings and carried herself ever faster towards the fair grounds.

 

She ducked between people’s legs and past the many police officers, afraid she might be asked to go home.  Getting onto her knees, she ignored the floating balloons, and instead, crawled under the tent and between the stand supports, all the way to the front of the area, where she was just tall enough to see the show.  A glittering tambourine made a beautiful ring, and she nodded her head in time with the tempo, watching as acrobats swung from line to line.

 

“And now, for the final act…” the ring master declared, walking beneath the contortionists and fire breathers, suspended on nearly invisible wires in the air above him.  Susie did not hear the rest, as she was awed by the smooth flight of the entertainers trailing rainbow colored ribbons in their wake.  To Susie, these people belong amongst the stars that glittered above her roof every night.  To Susie, these people were magical, and though they might interrupt anyone else’s customary way of living, they inspired Susie to break the dull, monotonous schedule that she found herself chained to.  To Susie, these people were breaking into her prison cell and setting her free.

 

A lion’s roar interrupted her thoughts, and she watched, jaw dropped, knuckles white from clenching the fold of her jacket, as the lion master cracked his whip, taming the beast.  She oo-ed when he stuck his head in its large mouth and ahh-ed as he climbed onto the lion’s back and commenced in riding the animal around the arena.  Sparks crashed in the air as the act was over and the people applauded, but none were as loud as Susie.

 

One by one, they all began to fade away.  Susie, as if glued to her seat, stayed.  She stayed until the lights went off and everyone was gone.  It was then that she rose from the hard surface of the stands and walked outside and into the rain that was now beating down and chilling her face.  It was then that she wished she had grabbed her pink Barbie umbrella that was tucked away in the back of her closet, worn from overuse, but dusty from the dry spell during the past summer.  Little Susie, therefore, decided to run, as quick as her little legs could carry her, over to the white house, only a couple blocks away from where she started off from…

 

John Miller arrived home to a dark house.  Glancing at his wrist-watch he learned that it was already nine thirty-six.  He knew his daughter, being the good girl she was, would already be snug in bed, curled up in her sheets, safe and sound.  He removed his shoes and coat, removing from his pocket, the rattling change, all that was left over after having bought Susie a large clown fish from one of the circus game tents.  He hitched the large stuffed animal under his arm and climbed the stairs up to Susie’s room.  Opening the door, he smelled something bitter.  He recognized the scent, but didn’t know how to explain it until he reached over and flicked on the bedroom light.

 

Little Susie was found lying in a pool of her own life’s blood, having fallen off a chair, situated between her and her tall dresser.  She had knocked her head against a sharp edge of her dollhouse, a gift from her dad, product of the last promise he had kept to her.  Contradictory to the mess of thick golden locks of hair tousled around her, now tainted and soiled with crimson red liquid, the smile on her face was calm and serene, as if she had been thinking something wonderful when she had come crashing down to earth.

 

Author's Note

Story picture found at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/manganite/1015572843/

Reviews

[Hans von Lieven]

A terrific storyline and by and large well written. Some passages need a bit more work. for instance:

She couldn't find it in her to have even had a spark of hope when he had promised to go the day before it arrived, but her desires to visit the fair grounds were much too great and caused her to believe that he would come through this time around.

Perhaps : She regretted now to have had a spark of hope when he had promised to take her the day before the circus arrived, but her desires to visit the fair grounds had been much too great and caused her to believe that he would come through this time around.

also: only a couple blocks away from where she started off from� perhaps :only a couple blocks away from where she had started her journey�

Little Susie was found lying in a pool of her own life's blood, ....sounds a bit stilted and pompous..... Little Susie was found lying in a pool of blood, .... is quite sufficient and tells it all.

Small things I know but these little things often make the difference between a good story and a great story.

Altogether a wonderful effort.

Hans von Lieven