Eye of the Beholder

It was on a bright, starry night that the traveling circus rolled into town. I sat at my window, watching the parade of red and gold wagons lumbering along Main Street. The draft horses seemed drowsy, slowly placing one feathered hoof in front of another and nodding their heads as they leaned into the traces.

The sweet scent of Moon-flowers drifted inside as I turned from the window. My reticule and coach bag were packed and sat near the door. I slipped on my bonnet and struggled with my kid gloves. Then, finally, I slipped the veil over my head and wound it securely around my shoulders. The mirror revealed an unremarkable woman, dressed all in black like a widow. And like a widow, I felt bereft, mourning the loss of my family more than they would ever know.

I stole one last glance around the room. It had been my sanctuary and my prison for twenty-five years. I would miss my small bed, my diminutive dressing table, my horsehair chaise near the window. Most of all I would miss my books. They were like dear friends and my only link to the world outside.

The streets were singularly quiet as I made my way through town. Fortunately, not a soul was afoot, as a woman alone at this hour would surely be stopped and interrogated. I kept to the shadows and soon neared my destination.

If the town was sleeping, then the field where the circus tents were being erected was fully awake. Men scurried in all directions, yelling and cursing, rolling out canvas. The night rang as iron stakes were pounded into the ground.

A hint of kerosene and fresh manure wafted in the air and a cacophony of unfamiliar brays and squeals met my ears as I moved closer. That horse-like creature over there, it must be a zebra! And there, Lord above, was that an elephant? I stood, entranced, drinking it in.

“Hey, what you looking at? Trying to see the sights for free, are you? “

I whirled as a man clad in grimy clothes gripped my arm.My heart was pounding against my ribs.

“Cat got your tongue Missy?” He leaned close, leering. “Hey Silvio, get over here. Look what I found.”

In seconds, a number of men gathered around me. I remembered my mother telling me about the unspeakable atrocities that could befall an unprotected woman.

“C’mere dearie. Let’s get a look at you.” He reached for my veil and my hands flew to my throat. “Whatsa matter? We just wanna see your pretty face.”

I struggled, but he was stronger. Little by little, my veil slipped, and with a final yank, he pulled it free. I covered my face with my hands, but he grabbed my wrists and pulled them away.

As one, the men gasped and took a step backward. Then, finally, I found my voice. “Is this what you are so eager to see? Are you happy now?” The men shrank from my words.

A woman dressed in gaudy orange and black stripes pushed through the crowd. "What’s going on over here? You! Joe! Get these men back to work. You'll all be out of a job, you will.“ Her bosom bulged from the top of her bodice.

I turned toward her, prepared for the scorn and ridicule that was sure to be forthcoming.

“Sweet Mother of God!” Her hand flew to her mouth, but she did not back away. “Well, you’ve given me a start, you have. What brings you here at this hour?"

I relaxed when she took my arm. "Come with me, dear girl." She swung her cane like a scythe and cut through the crowd. Gratefully I followed, my hat and veil forgotten.

Small, black eyes regarded me solemnly. "Why you’re a lady of quality. Anyone can see that. And a beauty, too. Such lovely, thick hair. Do you mind?”

I shook my head, and she ran coarse fingers across my face, tenderly stroking the thick, chestnut hair that covered it.

“Are you, uh, I don’t know how to say this delicately Miss, but are you like this all over?”

I nodded and removed my gloves so she could see the silky, sable pelt which concealed my arms and hands.

“Praise be to heaven. You’re a treasure, that's what you are. Come with Mama, Mama Giovanna will take care of you."

I glanced back quickly at the sleepy little town, then I turned and followed Mama Giovanna.