Feeling of pink - Prologue (excerpt) (ENG)
Prologue (excerpt)
I stood in the middle of the chapito and the whole audience went popping with laughter. The children in the front rows cheered, the adults watched in skeptical suspense the tricks of my fellow magician in an old-fashioned frock, whom I and the other clowns assisted. He had every move perfectly rehearsed, while we clowns mostly relied on situational improvisation. I mean, my older colleagues, I couldn't read people that well. I usually hung back and helped introduce the horses for the next number. Today, however, I was called to action by a little girl in the audience. She wasn't cheerful like the other kids. She was sadly turning her gaze from the magician to me, from me to her dad in his suit with a nose buried in his cell phone.
The magician had just conjured up a beautiful red paper flower from a freshly broken egg, which he had to quickly stuff up his sleeve again when it appeared on the scene. In between clown jokes, I dozed up to him and theatrically gestured that I would like to give the flower to someone in the audience. We eventually staged a skit in which I had to show him several somersaults and mill rounds for the flower. My head was really spinning, it wasn't hard to make a fidget spinner out of myself. I waddled over to the sad little girl and offered her a paper rose with a kind smile. My heart filled with immense joy when she finally smiled and accepted the flower. Her father also looked at me to see what I was actually giving his daughter and as soon as I got back to the stage, he smiled too and finally it looked like they were having fun together. He pulled her into a hug and pointed to the slowly unfolding screen in the back, where a quartet of gorgeous horses in harnesses with red and black feathers were already snorting. My colleagues and I bowed deeply and received deafening applause. It was one of the most enjoyable moments a little jester can experience. With a broad smile and a wave, I disappeared from sight and listened as they introduced the charming and irresistible Carina with her majestic steeds. Her raven curls swirled down to her hips as she performed various stunts with a fiery sparkle in her eyes. Her performances are never to be missed.
After presenting all of the Arcana Circus performers, including jugglers, acrobats, fire breathers, a snake woman and many more, we came out again for a bow. The applause had completely deafened me, and I was starting to get overwhelmed with fatigue. If Carina and my mom, the principal's assistant and Maria the fortune teller, hadn't been holding my hands, I would have already collapsed to the floor. We were standing at the very end of the row. In the middle stood the circus director and local beast tamer, the scariest of the scariest, Mr. Marshall. We didn't like each other. He hates me and I hate him. Yet he seeks out my presence more than he needs to, and often doesn't stop at mere insults. Nor is his whip only for frightening animals. His touch burns. It doesn't let me sleep.
It was no different today. I was hiding in my small, cozy maringot filled with paper flowers and tiny lights. Six colorful wigs hung from the wall and several musical instruments lay under my bed. Everything else was piled in my closet along with a colorful pile of costumes. At the other end of the room I had my desk with a mirror over which I had more lights hanging. My face was already twitching from smiling so much. I tried to smile every time I looked in the mirror, but there was something wrong with my reflection. Tears glistened in the blue eyes. It had to be the makeup. My cheeks were red from scrubbing, maybe the pencil had gotten in my eye while I was washing. Or maybe it was the dull pain that resonated throughout the left side of my face. The blue stain looked ominous and mimicked the shape of Mr. Marshall's palm. He was not pleased with my performance. I don't understand what I did wrong again. Everyone was laughing and having fun today! And the applause! We didn't have that much last season! What more could I have done?
It doesn't matter anyway. Even if I had lived up to his expectations, instead of praise, I would have only been in for another beating and whipping. There was no escape from his hands. Arcana completely devours a person, especially when they are born here.
A knock on the door came through the maringot. I quickly put on the shirt thrown on the bed and opened the door. It was mum, with her dark hair with coloured beads in strands and a jingling scarf belt, the sound of which I always associated with her kind smile and the mysterious advice she would occasionally utter to me as a fortune teller. I helped her up the stairs to enter my kingdom. She sat on my bed and I shyly wrapped myself in a thin shirt. It was a hot summer night and it was impossible to breathe properly in this small box. During the day it gets really warm and at night you can't open the window because it often gets stuck. Mum wiped the drops of sweat from her forehead and pulled me close to her to rub my cheek with a cooling ointment.
"You were wonderful today, Jessy," she complimented me, "that little girl will remember you for a long time."
"Mr. Marshall didn't like that," I gloomed, wincing at the harder touch on my cheek. I looked down, not wanting to show off too much in front of mom. She constantly had wrinkles on her face because of my bruises. Anxiety took hold of my chest. I shuffled away from her and hunched over, hugging my hips. Mom pulled her arms to her side, even though she wanted so badly to cuddle me and hug me like a mama bear. It would hurt a lot after a beating. She sighed sadly, but then regained her positive mood.
"Jess, why are you a clown?" She asked energetically.
"Because you won't let me be an acrobat," I smiled weakly down at her, "And because..."
"Did it make you happy when you made that girl laugh?" She added the question and I nodded eagerly. It was the best feeling in the world! I'm a clown because...
"I enjoy making others laugh! Everyone in the audience is like... so..." I couldn't think of the right word. Sometimes I can't remember the right words. That's why the little clowns don't talk during the performance, so as not to embarrass themselves more than they need to...
"Sad? Tired? Overworked?" Mom smiled.
"Exactly! I want them to forget for a while! I'm sure they don't have as much color, as much fun and laughter in the cities! It must be boring there. No carousels or cotton candy or popsicles... Mom, why would anyone live in the city when they can live like us?" I smiled curiously at her. She sighed again as if I had just said something stupid. Not stupid... Really, what's actually in such a city? I tugged on her sleeve with a frown. Why won't she answer me? Chester goes out a lot too, probably to the city. Why actually? I'd have to ask him. Chester is the local cotton candy salesman and he and my mom are very fond of each other. He just gets away from us a lot on the road. That's why we're not together. "Mom?" I snorted. Why is she silent?
"You've had a long day today, pajarito, go to sleep," she made me lie down on the bed, tired to death herself, and pressed a plushy dolphin into my hands. I was glad she came to tuck me in like that sometimes. It gave me strength for the next day.
"I'm on lion duty tomorrow morning," I grumbled, yawning in agony.
"You don't have to worry about them," she sounded so calm. She must have fed them countless times. Then the thought of a lashing of the whip connected with the beasts. It shook me. "Nor Mr. Marshall," she added.
"How did you know..." I didn't finish the sentence. I was stopped by her arcane look. "What else did the cards reveal to you, fortune teller? What awaits me?"
"Cambio y un camino difícil," she replied. She'd always tried to teach me Spanish, but I'd never been much into it. She petted my hair and kissed me on the forehead one last time today. Then she wished me good dreams and disappeared into the darkness like a night fairy among the stars.