13. Circus Charlie (10)
13. Circus Charlie (10)
Alamo was a small village along the desert crossing route, the sort of unremarkable waypoint where traveling merchants stopped to wet their throats. But fifteen years ago, after a retired old acrobat founded something he called a circus school here, word spread among travelers that it was worth a visit.
The school's operator, whom everyone called "Master," always wore a mask, his face badly ruined in an accident. Yet his skill was so exceptional that even villagers who'd never seen a proper circus could tell he was no ordinary performer.
He took in children with nowhere else to go and taught them the craft.
"Strength Show-off by our three strongmen! Starts in five minutes!"
"Allow me to begin with a simple demonstration! Hah!"
A boy with a shaved head gripped a solid-looking rock and promptly smashed it against his own forehead.
The watching merchants gasped — then burst into applause as the stone split cleanly in two.
The boy held up the halves and thrust both arms high.
"Come see our show!"
"You won't regret it!"
"We'll uproot a mountain and throw it for you!"
Sheer spirit alone, these boys looked ready to overturn the world.
The merchants clapped, visibly taken with the showmanship.
"Not bad for kids."
"That's decent! Should we catch the rest of this?"
"I saw them this morning — the tightrope crew here is something else, too."
"I'm off to watch the tumbling kids."
The circus school children performed for travelers passing through the village.
The school provided a place to sleep, two meals — breakfast and dinner — and space to practice. Everything else they had to earn with the skills they'd honed, scraping together pocket money.
Thanks to the Master's extraordinary versatility, students could pick an art suited to their aptitudes.
Strength Show-off.
Ground Acrobatics.
Tightrope walking.
Animal taming.
Shooting tricks.
The five foundational acrobatic disciplines commonly called the "Traditional Five Acts."
Skillful as the Master was in all of them, circumstances made one hard to teach here.
That was animal taming. For other arts, the Master could simply grab hammer and nails and knock training equipment together, but animals were different.
Elephants, lions, horses.
The larger animals common in circus work cost staggering sums just to feed. Keeping the children fed was already a stretch; there was no money left to sustain animals, too.
Because of that, no one here ever specialized in taming.
Except for one person...
"Ella's Beast Tamer Show begins in three minutes!"
The girl's spirited voice turned the heads of passersby.
But the moment they saw the two animals in front of her, their faces went slack, and they continued on their way.
—A pigeon and a rat...
—She could at least have brought an eagle.
Occasionally someone would ask if she had other animals, and each time, the girl answered that these two were all she had.
"Ella. Looks like another bust, huh?"
"Skipping lunch again? Heh-heh."
"That's why you're not getting any taller, runt."
Her friends teased her as they passed by.
Ella glared at them, face scrunched.
"If you're not gonna help, get lost."
"Tch. All the skill she has in other stuff, and she keeps stubbornly sticking with taming."
The kids clicked their tongues and left.
Ella dropped to the ground, sulking.
Not that she didn't understand reality.
She wouldn't watch a rat-and-pigeon animal show herself, not with other circus acts available nearby.
Should she really switch disciplines? But taming's what she wanted to do.
If only some wealthy troupe would come along with an offer.
She was staring blankly at the ground, sighing, when a voice spoke to her.
"It's been three minutes."
Huh?
Ella looked up. A tall gentleman stood before her.
A black suit out of place in the Nevada summer heat, a handsome face, pale skin, dazzling blond hair. The kind of man who drew every eye just by walking by.
He smiled at her.
"The animal show. Aren't you performing it?"
"Ah... I — I was just about to..."
Ella scrambled to her feet, straightening her clothes. She bowed to her lone spectator, then began the show she had prepared.
What she presented was a series of tricks that made clever use of the pigeon's and the rat's particular traits. Nothing flashy, but the pacing and the beat of tension and release kept a viewer absorbed without growing bored once they started watching.
She'd spent the night revising the script and rehearsing again and again with the animals.
Expectation, fulfillment, surprise. A well-constructed performance that nailed all three cornerstones of a good show.
"And with that, the show concludes!"
Ella, Gudol, and Jjiksun bowed as one, a stage bow in perfect unison.
The man applauded, his praise mixed with genuine admiration.
"That was genuinely impressive. Did you prepare all of this on your own?"
"Um, yes... hehe."
Her first compliment from an audience member.
The Master and her friends, who could see through the script, the performance, the structure, recognized her effort — but audiences who only cared about spectacle and thrills routinely dismissed her show as dull.
Yet this stranger had acknowledged her work.
He clearly had an eye for circus.
"Are you in the circus business yourself, sir?"
At Ella's question, the man smiled faintly.
"Heh. I'm a magician, in the midst of preparing to form a troupe."
"A magician..."
That made sense. So he was in the trade.
"What's your name?"
"Frank Wonderstein. Ah — no need to strain your memory. I haven't built any reputation to speak of."
Ella nodded — and then her stomach rumbled. She turned away, suddenly embarrassed.
Wonderstein burst out laughing.
"Ha! In that case, shall we share a meal? My treat."
"...Huh? No, I — the Master always told us, if you live as an acrobat, you never let someone buy you a meal..."
"Heh-heh. A fine Master, clearly. But this isn't charity. I did watch your show, didn't I, Miss Ella? A ticket ought to be paid for."
Wonderstein was as generous with his coin as with that smile of his.
He took her to the best restaurant in Alamo.
They shared lunch and talked about this and that.
Ella did most of the talking.
She told him how she'd come to be at the circus school, how she'd grown up. Wonderstein chimed in now and then, listening to her story.
After the meal they took a walk, then stopped at a café for a cool drink.
It was the first time Ella had ever spent time like this with a grown man who wasn't the Master. He had a way of putting a person at ease. It felt like family, but different from her friends at the circus school.
Before she knew it, the sun was slipping past the mountains.
It was time for Wonderstein to leave.
"You're asking me to join your circus troupe?"
She repeated his parting proposal a little loudly, but the truth was, she wasn't all that surprised. Over the course of their conversations, she'd already caught the shape of what he wanted from her.
"Yes. Having you with me, Miss Ella, would be a tremendous help."
"B-but I'm just a nobody tamer..."
"That's perfect, then. I'm just a nobody magician. And my troupe currently has a grand total of one member — me."
By the time they'd come this far, Ella's mind was largely made up.
Otherwise, she wouldn't have followed him all the way through the late afternoon.
Frank Wonderstein.
Kind, trustworthy, and knowledgeable about circus. She liked him.
"But the Master might oppose it. He's always tried to place us in troupes that are at least second-rate or better. A newly formed troupe, he might refuse..."
Wonderstein's eyes glinted sharply at her words.
A trick of the sunset light?
He smiled, calm and steady.
"Don't worry. I'm confident I can persuade him. I imagine, if the two of us talk... your Master will see reason."
Wonderstein extended his hand.
Ella took it firmly in both of hers and shook.
"Well, I'll settle my business and return. See you in a few weeks, Miss Ella."
"Yes! Mr. Wonderstein — no, Troupe Leader! Safe travels! You have to come back! You promised!"
Ella waved furiously after him. Once he'd fully vanished from sight, she clenched both hands into fists and let out a tiny cheer.
"Yes! See that? I knew someone would recognize me eventually. Heh-heh, Charlie's going to lose his mind when he hears about this."
She smiled smugly, recalling the teasing remark he'd made the day before.
So he thought I'd be stuck here for a year with no prospects? Hah. I get things done.
If she started a troupe alongside him, did that make her a founding partner? Hee-hee. Not that a fifteen-year-old would get to be Deputy Leader... right?
But the giddy mood didn't last long. The Master's stern gaze and voice surfaced in her mind. However much she liked Wonderstein, if the old man said no, she was stuck.
Wonderstein had said he was confident, but persuading her grandfather was no small task.
She'd had recruitment offers before — several of them. The Master had shot down every single one. Some from reasonably well-known troupes, even one where another graduate was already working.
Would that same Master really let her join a one-man troupe that had just been founded?
"If he says no this time, I swear I'll run away in the middle of the night."
That the words had even left her mouth showed how much she already liked the man called Wonderstein.
He was perfect in every way. A sharp eye for circus, and the skills he'd lightly demonstrated were astonishing. Not to mention his handsome face...
Ella felt her cheeks warm and shook her head vigorously.
I-I just meant it's an advantage for drawing a crowd, that's all.
That aside, honestly, his stage name is a little old-fashioned. "Wonder"stein — what even is a Wonderstein.
There'd been a time when slapping "Wonder" onto a name was trendy. Wonderboy, Wonder Magician, Master Wonder — all borrowed from the Kirkeus paradise, Wonderland. But the name had been so overused that these days it made anyone who used it feel like yesterday's news.
"If I drop the 'Wonder'... Frank... Stein? Wait, to connect a masculine form, do you add 'en' as a suffix to the root? Or do you drop that for given names? Or surnames...?"
Lost in these thoughts, she found herself before the school building.
It was a long, two-story wooden structure perched on the hill at the village center.
At the entrance stood a worn wooden sign: <Willy's Circus School>.