The Dark Circus

by Ana Ballabriga

  Paris had chosen Aphrodite, known to our modern times as the goddess of love. Not romantic love, but carnal love. Aphrodite was the goddess of beauty, sexuality, lasciviousness, and reproduction. Her sanctuaries and temples were notorious for ritual prostitution.

  Aphrodite was Paris’s selection.

  He went out to ask Lola for a newspaper. She found one in the waiting room and brought it to him. He closed the office door behind him, spread it out on his desk, went through the ads line by line, and finally found what he was looking for. He called the number. The woman who answered spoke with a South American accent. He told her exactly what he wanted and requested an appointment that same afternoon.

  Now he just had to wait and see if he’d guessed right.

  37

  Calixto encouraged the audience to clap along to the lively music. He gently prodded the bear and nodded toward the ball resting on steel tubes laid like twin rails between two low platforms. He didn’t have to say a word. The animal got up with a resigned expression on its muzzled face. It bounded up on the first platform and then onto the blue ball with big yellow stars. The bear found its balance and rose on its back legs; hunching over like an old man broken by a hard life, it walked along the surface of the ball and impelled it along the improvised bridge to the far end. The audience went wild.

  Twelve-year-old L had never seen the faintest sign of joy in those small black eyes, and she’d known the bear all her life. These days, Calixto treated him fairly well; sometimes they even had the affectionate camaraderie of two grizzled veterans. But L remembered how, as a child, she’d seen the bear chained and muzzled all day. She still remembered how Calixto beat the beast unmercifully with an iron rod whenever it reared and clawed at him or refused to obey commands.

  It took almost a year for Calixto to break the animal, and longer to train the beast to perform. Calixto had been a shepherd in an earlier life, and in his eyes, an animal had to be useful. “You can’t feed anything unless it earns its keep,” he liked to say.

  He once told L of a dog that ran off and left his sheep defenseless against predators. Calixto caught the dog and strung it up from the nearest tree. A true shepherd protects the flock at any price.

  Calixto removed one of the rails and lifted a bicycle onto the platform. The bear climbed onto it without hesitation and swiftly pedaled to the other side, balancing with confidence born of years of practice. The animal leaped down to seek its master’s approval amid a storm of bravos and applause. Calixto wiggled up to it with a sort of samba step, gave it a cookie, and raised its paw in victory.

  L let the curtain fall back into place. Their act was almost finished. The last part was the bear’s dance with hula hoops, which she found stupid and boring. They were up next, and she wasn’t quite ready. Her uncle had introduced some new tricks, but the chainsaw illusion was still the highlight. Especially since the performance in that town in Salamanca . . .

  She shook her head and tried to suppress those memories long enough to finish her work.

  After the show, she made a bonfire next to the trailer, spread the coals, and put meat on the grill. A kettle filled with wine and various secret ingredients sat directly on the embers. Her uncle had taught her how to make W a couple of years earlier, and brewing it had been her responsibility from then on. With Sifo gone, she and her uncle were the only ones left who knew the recipe.

  Her uncle arrived smiling jovially. “I hope there’s something good to eat. Today’s a very special day.”

  “I’ve got lamb chops and country sausage.”

  “Wonderful. Then we’ll all have a drink at the bar. I want you to give Mara and Tara all the details of our act. I need to start practicing with them in the morning.”

  L went rigid. “What are you talking about?”

  “If they’re going to replace you, you’re the best one to instruct them, since I—”

  “Replace me? Why should they replace me? They’ve already got their contortionist gig. That’s plenty.”

  “Look here, L, you’re twelve now. You’re not a child anymore. It’s time for you to get started on your own.”

  “On my own? Why? Don’t I work just as hard as you do?”

  “You perform in an act I created; you haven’t had to face up to life. You have no idea of its wickedness or its wonders. You’ll have to walk that road by yourself. Nobody else can walk it for you.”

  “Why? That’s crazy. Why can’t we just keep doing our act?”

  “L, there are very difficult decisions ahead of you, important ones, and maybe they’re still beyond your ability to understand. But you’ll thank me when you’re older.”

  “To hell with that, you liar! No way are you going to kick me out of the act!” L raced into the trailer and slammed the door behind her. She threw herself on the bed and burst into tears. Why was her uncle doing this? And, worse, on her birthday? Had he lost his mind, or was he just being mean?

  Suddenly it hit her: He wanted the twins to take her place. Was he involved with one of them? Or both of them? Her uncle was as addicted to sex as he was to alcohol, but he hadn’t bothered her with it for almost a year. He’d stuck that enormous cock into all the women in the circus and probably half the ones in the towns on their circuit. Sometimes he’d used it on men, and he’d even organized moonlit orgies. His moral code was summed up in his declaration, “We’re all equals before pleasure; we’re free to indulge in it and we should join one another in its pursuit.”

  L imagined that the little contortionist twins, Mara and Tara, could treat a man to positions unachievable with anyone else. If they put their minds to it, they could probably wrap her uncle around their little fingers. But the twins already had their own act, and it was a huge success. Why on earth would they want her shitty job of being sawed in half?

  Her uncle gave a perfunctory knock on the door and came straight in. “Look, throwing a tantrum isn’t going to get you anywhere. You’re not a baby.”

  “Did Mara and Tara come up with this idea?”

  “No, L, it’s not their fault.” Her uncle sat next to her, his tone conciliatory. “They’re doing it as a favor to me. And it’s only till you’re ready to come back.”

  “Come back from where? I’m not going anywhere.”

  “L, I’m gonna tell you a story. Once upon a time, a man found a cocoon with a butterfly inside.”

  “This is no time for dumb butterflies!”

  L threw herself sobbing onto the bed. She couldn’t believe what was happening, couldn’t understand how her uncle could be so cruel.

  “While he was examining the cocoon, he saw it starting to twitch from side to side. A tiny hole appeared in the top and grew wider. A leg appeared as the butterfly struggled to escape from its prison. The man sat enchanted by this and watched every movement. It was slow, hard work, and after a while the butterfly stopped to rest. The man took pity on the insect and decided to give it a hand. With his knife, he cut the cocoon very carefully and enlarged the opening so the butterfly could get out. It fell and flopped about on the ground. It tried to unfold its wings but couldn’t.

  “So, the man tried to help it some more. He took hold of its wings ever so delicately and tried to extend them. But when he let go, they folded up again. That butterfly, L, would never fly. Helping it out of its cocoon had arrested its natural development. Despite his best intentions, he’d deprived it of its freedom.” Her uncle moved closer and gave her an affectionate pat. “I would never hurt you, L. I love you like a daughter, and I want the best for you. That’s why I can’t interfere and release you from your cocoon.”

  L jumped up in a rage. “That’s enough. What a load of crap! I know exactly what you’re up to, even if you won’t admit it. You want those little bitches under your thumb while they’re sucking your dick.”

  “Think whatever you wish. But you can’t live here anymore.” Her uncle handed her an envelope. “Here’s your share of our earnings. I wish you luck.”

  “Go to hel
l!” L grabbed the envelope and stormed out of the trailer.

  She ran to the tent crew. The three families there had a total of fifteen children, all older than she was. L had been born just before they’d all been forced out of their homes and joined the circus, and oddly, not a single woman in the entire circus community had gotten pregnant since. The tent crew families took her in. They offered to share their work and pay, even though they could barely meet their own needs.

  But it didn’t last. The next day, the three couples summoned her and said she had to leave. They said they had no choice.

  Their children protested, pleaded, and made all sorts of proposals, but it was no use. Nothing would change the parents’ minds.

  L made the rounds of the camp in search of work. She approached Hercules the strongman, Festo the fire-eater, Calixto the bear tamer, the family of acrobats, the three clowns, the knife thrower, the ticket lady, and even her friend Isabela, the fortune-teller. All shut their doors in her face. Her community had suddenly turned against her without a word of explanation. They treated her like a stranger; they refused to explain why. They shunned her as if she’d committed some terrible sin. She was sure her uncle was behind it all.

  L had no other choice: she’d have to find work in some village and abandon the circus, her only family. But she simply couldn’t. So she bought a used motor scooter and trailed after them wherever they went. She sought out the cheapest lodgings in each town along the way, but her money didn’t last long.

  One night, the circus was performing in a village in Galicia. L had hardly enough left to feed herself, so she sneaked into Calixto’s trailer and took one of the spare keys for the bear compartment. The large enclosed platform was divided into two sections: tool storage in front and the bear cage behind. She saw little risk in sleeping there, wrapped in an old overcoat or the animal tamer’s cape.

  After everyone was asleep, L sneaked inside, taking care to make no noise. Moonlight from the small window flooded her refuge and cast shadows of cage bars across the huddled shape of the sleeping animal. It smelled her immediately and opened its eyes. L crouched next to its cage. The bear opened its mouth in an enormous yawn, shuffled closer, snuggled against the bars, and closed its eyes, pleased to have company. L reached through and scratched its ears. Like the bear, she missed human contact, an occasional caress, a word of thanks. The animal couldn’t speak, but L knew deep inside that it was far nobler and kinder than most of the people she knew. This beast was her only family now.

  She abandoned the scooter with an empty gas tank in that town in the middle of nowhere. The bear trailer became her conveyance and her refuge. During the day, she wandered like a lost soul outside the circus grounds. She went to the villages to rummage through the garbage for food. Sometimes, she lit a little campfire to roast remnants of meat or fish the bear hadn’t wanted.

  But it wasn’t enough. Scrawny to begin with, little L was wasting away.

  During that time, L hated her uncle more than anyone in the world. She thought him the very devil incarnate. Her empty guts cramped every time they came face-to-face and he ignored her, deliberately turned away. Those were days of suffering and starvation. Gradually, her obsession became a burning desire for revenge. She was haunted by a recurring dream in which she crept into his trailer and cut his throat as if slaughtering a farm animal. But because she knew the circus folk would kill her for that, she could never summon the courage to attempt it.

  Some months later, L got the unexpected opportunity to free herself of both that obsession and the accompanying nightmare. The circus had set up next to a village in Badajoz. It was night. She’d searched out the largest supermarket in town and had been digging through the nearby garbage cans for a while when a man called out to her.

  “Hey, girl! Say, girly!”

  L turned to look at him.

  “Looks like you’re hungry.”

  She nodded but stayed where she was.

  The elderly man tottered forward, bent and leaning on a cane. He wore a frock coat and a top hat. He spoke with the lilting tone of a slight foreign accent. “I can offer you a warm meal and a job tonight. You interested?”

  “Sure. What kind of job?”

  “Oh . . . Don’t you worry about that.” He came closer, wrapped an arm around her, and pulled her along with him. “It’s so simple, you won’t have any trouble. Wait till we get to my bar. I’ll take you there.”

  On the outskirts of town, they came upon a roadhouse that lit up the night with an enormous neon sign: COBRA. Gaudy, flashing silhouettes showed a female dancer in a series of provocative poses. Four or five men sat inside the bar, each flanked by a couple of scantily clad women vying for attention. The man ushered her through a door behind the bar and asked a young but haggard woman to fix the girl a sandwich and a glass of milk.

  The woman prepared the food and then sat down next to her. “Where are your parents, kid?”

  “Don’t have any,” L said with her mouth full as she bolted the meal.

  “Who do you live with?”

  “My uncle, but he threw me out. Now I’m on my own.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Twelve.”

  “Do you know what kind of place this is?”

  “A bar.”

  “No, it’s a brothel.”

  L took another bite. “A brothel?” Crumbs popped out of her mouth, but she didn’t care. The worst of her hunger was past. “Is that a kind of bar?”

  “Yes, child, a brothel is a kind of bar where sex is offered for money. Do you know what sex is?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, in here the women offer sex to men, and they pay for it. You understand?”

  The girl’s eyes opened wide. “Really? People pay for that?” This was a revelation. It occurred to L that by now her uncle must owe her a great deal of money.

  “That’s right. It’s not very pleasant work. Some men are disgusting. Honestly, most of them are.”

  “And I could do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Get money for sex?”

  The woman was astonished. “But you’re just a little kid. Wouldn’t you rather spend your time playing with toys?”

  “Never had any toys. All I have is me, and I never knew I could use my body to make money.”

  L finished off the sandwich. The woman gave her a glass of warm milk.

  “Look here, child—say, what’s your name?”

  “L.”

  “Elia?”

  “No, L. Just the letter L.”

  “Okay, L. I’m Silvia. Hold on just a minute. I want to make sure you understand this isn’t a game. Once you start, there’s no turning back. Women who charge for sex are called prostitutes, and men treat us like dirt. It’s not a happy life.”

  “But if you make them feel good, why would they treat you bad?”

  “That’s how men are, darling. Act fussy and distant, and they treat you like a goddess. Let ’em screw you right away, and they treat you like garbage.”

  “But the idea is, I do it with men I don’t know, right? So, they pay me, and afterward I don’t care what they think.”

  “Well, dear, that’s one way of looking at it.”

  “So, can I work here? Just for tonight? ’Cause tomorrow I have to leave.”

  “Look, L, if I were you, I’d run away as fast as I could and never come back. This life is shitty. But if you really truly believe you want to do it, I’m sure the Dandy is already planning something for you. You’ll just have to give yourself a good scrub and shower first.”

  “Yes, I really do want to.” L downed her glass of milk in one long swallow. “On one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I get to set the price.”

  Silvia’s face was somber, a mixture of amazement and sudden distrust. L saw right then that she was no longer a child in Silvia’s eyes.

  L returned to the circus with a pocketful of money and a grin on her face. The Dandy
had made a call to one of his best clients, the local police captain. As soon as the man understood what was on offer, he accepted the price without a quibble. He came running so fast he would have lost his trousers if they hadn’t been held up by the protrusion his expectations had raised in his groin. A chubby, nervous sort of fellow, he came in drooling with delight below his thick mustache and discovered a little redheaded girl waiting for him, her skin pale and freckled, her naked body slim but nicely rounded in all the right places. L came right up to him and readjusted the three-cornered officer’s hat he’d almost forgotten in his haste. Without further ado, she lowered his trousers and started working on his erection. When she saw by his expression that he couldn’t stand much more, she slipped a condom on it and allowed him to penetrate her. He wasn’t good for more than a couple of thrusts, but he was so delighted afterward that he broke into giggles. This was the first time L had had sex with someone other than her uncle, and her client’s behavior seemed very peculiar indeed.

  But now she had the last laugh. She came back to the circus with her stomach full, her pockets bulging with cash, and the knowledge that she’d never be hungry again. She stepped into her uncle’s trailer and found him in bed with the twins, all three of them naked. The girls rolled to one side as she stalked up to her uncle and threw a wad of bills into his face.

  “There—is that enough to buy back my place in the act?”

  “It is,” her uncle said with a contented leer. “And you’ve bought more than just your job.” L ignored the comment and left. She didn’t give a damn about his cryptic pronouncement. Now that she had her world and her job back, and a fallback plan besides, now that she felt happy and free at last of the terrible exile, there was only one thing she wanted to do. She went to the bear’s trailer, opened the door, and unlocked its cage. The animal raised its head, sat up, and regarded her for a long moment with its dark eyes and bruised expression. Sad, so sad and cowed, it turned toward her, expecting a caress. L grabbed the beast by one paw and pulled with all her might.