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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1097884-The-Big-Top
Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Action/Adventure · #1097884
Inside the big top tent is not what we all beleive.
ASPIRATIONS

1. WEDNESDAY

The big top. Those two fascinating points of the circus tent. What child could resist. Lions and Tigers and Bears, owe my. Acrobats flying high to the clowns petrifying comical acts. The Ring Master leads them all. No child could resist. The talk of the school focused around the Big Top. Even the big kids in grade six talked about the wonders of the circus. The lights and entertainers, clowns and wild animals. There seemed no end to the infamous Big Top.
All with the exception of one young fourth grader, Samuel Walcott. From the talk of the school, ever child except Sam had made it to the wondrous Big Top. The irony was even the impoverished children had managed to bring back a souvenir. Weather it be a scarf, flag or even the universal gift of a key ring, they all managed to get there little mitts on something.
The morning school bell rang. It was Nine O’clock on Wednesday. Sam made his way to his class room. Wednesday was show and tell day. Sam looked around at all the items the other children had brought. All of them were from the circus. He knew his toy wouldn’t compete with even the key ring from the circus. Cassandra Price showed the class a beach towel her parents bought with the name of the circus running across the top and bottom of the towel and a man holding a lion’s mouth open printed in the middle. Rhys Holden flicked through the high lights from a book about clowns. Bryn Pender displayed his whip and Top Hat in the fashion of the Ring Master. The time came for Sam to stand judgment from the infant court. Clenched in his hand as he approached the front of the class was a solitary G.I.Joe. A General Duke figurine, without his weapons or accessories. Sam explained the action figure to the uninterested class who were solely fascinated on the Big Top. Sam lowered his head and returned to his seat.
“Thank you Sam,” his teacher called out after him, “For showing us that there’s something more than just the circus.”
A small smile formed in the corner of Sam’s mouth before it was immediately blown away by the rapturous laugh of the fourth grade.

Sam was not an unpopular boy but his exclusion from seeing the Big Top made him so. Even on the bus ride home the conversation was about the circus. Sam got off the bus with two other people from his class, both of whom ignored him because he hadn’t been inside the Big Top and seen its wonders. He walked home alone; all he wanted was to see the inside of the Big Top.
Sam pulled the house the key from the side pocket of his bag as he did every afternoon. The house was silent. A silence Sam had become used to. He put his school bag down by the door taking his water bottle and lunch box to the kitchen. There was always enough food to make lunch for the next day. Sam filled his water bottle and placed it in the freezer then made a vegemite sandwich, wrapped it in gladwrape and put it in the fridge.
Sam turned on the television and waited for his mother to come home. It was well past dark when Sam’s mother finally came home. He expected nothing less. “Mum can you take me to the circus this weekend?” As she usually was when she arrived home, she was talking business on her mobile phone and ignored him. After countless attempts at pestering his mother she gave him a short answer, “Ask your father.” Sam knew his father would never take him. It had been six months since the last time he had seen his father. No one was going to take Sam aside from himself.

2. THURSDAY

Sam woke to the screeching sound of his alarm clock. The shock fear that this was the circuses final weekend struck him. Yet his fear of missing the circus was overshadowed by an idea. For years now his parents had bought his affection, the toys he had collected in his closet were immense. Perhaps the idea he entertained consisted of taking those toys down to the local ‘Cash Converters.’ Cash in the inanimate objects of affection from his parents for something he truly wanted.
Sam’s mother had already left for work when he got out of bed. Sam showered, got dressed and made himself breakfast. Packed his lunch he made the day before and wondered in a daze to the bus stop. Sam was to find the conversation he had to listen too drab and repetitive. ‘The circus, the big top, I’ve been so many times.’ Sam had almost been to the circus without actually going.
Sam watched the clock tick by every second of the day. Little lunch passed to Lunch which passed to the end of a grueling day. The kind of day you’re waiting to finish but never seems to end. Finally the bus stopped and Sam made his way home. Instead of his customary sandwich making, He placed an assortment of Toys in his bag and walked down the road to the local shops.
The nature of emporiums is to make as greater profit as possible, especially from a little boy. The total value of his toys would have added up closer to twice the value he received. But to Sam, gaining enough money for the admittance of one adolescence was more than enough. He gladly traded his under priced toys for the used plastic feel of money, which he firmly pushed into his pockets. Tomorrow night he would see the inside of the Big Top.

3. FRIDAY

Friday passed as slowly as the day before, only this time Sam knew he would be venturing into the Big Top come night fall. Today Sam really heard what all the children were enthralled about and not there ramblings of the Big Top. Today was different, he could feel it. Tonight he would finally see the glamour and wonders hidden underneath the infamous Big Top. Sam intently watched the clock hanging above the door in his classroom, every minute seeming to slow down. The clocks final rotation ticked over, sixty seconds to the sweet ringing that ended school. Sam’s heart beat harder and faster in his chest. Tonight is my night, He recited over and over in his head. The ‘seconds’ hand rounded the numeral six at the base of the clock. Thirty seconds to go. Finally Sam would see the acrobats flying high, the outrages and terrifying clowns that brought smiles to so many. The scrutinizing hand of time ticked passed the ninth numeral. Fifteen seconds. Staring through the face of the clock, Sam could see them, see all of them, Lions and Tigers and Bears Oh my! The loud ringing of the school bell echoed through all the class rooms, in the fashion of the Flash, Sam bolted from his classroom. Only three hours till the show under the Big Top begins.
Sam had planned his solitary adventure perfectly. A packed dinner of sandwiches and a fruit box to the timing of buses and the note he left his mother telling her that he had gone with his father to the circus. His plan was perfect.
The bus came to grinding Holt at the circus grounds. Gigantic lines of children and there parents queued to get entry to the twin peaked tent. Sam took his place in the line and waited. The usher at the front of the line was the last obstacle standing in his way. The tall man stared down at him with an unconvincing frown. He’s not going to let me in? I’m not going to get to see the inside of the Big Top. Think Sam think. “That’s twelve dollars for a young lad.” The usher announced and held out his hand. Sam handed over a twenty dollar note. “Enjoy the show.”


THE BEGINNING

1. THE WONDEROUS SHOW

Sam took his ticket from the usher and walked under the glamorous arch of the Big Top tent. People pushed and shoved past Sam; who was enthralled by the extraordinary site that befell him. What seemed like countless rows of seats rose from the ground and rounded the performers’ arena. Rising from the centre of the arena; a metal pole that rose far into the sky and supported the peak of the Big Top. All around the vastness of the point were trapezes and ropes. Sam had never seen such a sites equal.
By the time Sam had found his seat he had realized the usher had charged him eight dollars less than the advertised price. Why the usher had done so was beyond Sam’s knowledge. All that mattered was he now had an extra eight dollars. Hot Dogs and popcorn were the first to come to his mind. The seats were briskly snatched up. More than once Sam was asked in a polite yet demanding way to make room for groups of people. By the time the lights darkened and the Ring Master entered the arena, Sam found himself seated in the last row.
A man carrying hot dogs and cool refreshing beverages made his way through the audience. He fostered the look of a man who knew more than the simplicity of the circus and selling hot dogs. The enigmatic salesman of sustenance and beverages stopped beside him, “Can I offer you a hot dog and a bottle of water young master.” The delivering man handed over the hot dog and bottle of water, almost knowing Sam wanted them. Hesitantly Sam exchanged the remainder of his money for the hot dog with cheese and mustered and bottle of water. Sam engulfed the juicy hot dog, taking a sip of his bottled water while the arena faded into darkness.
The darkness was eclipsed by a spot light high in the Big Top. The light shown the way and followed The Ring Master on his way to the podium at the center of the arena. Sam looked around at the already mesmerized crowed. Parents and children alike stared in wonder at the walk of The Ring Master. ”Welcome one and all to circus Carpathia.” The rapturous applause from all the audience was followed by a defining crack of the Ring Masters whip. “Let the show begin!”
Performers swept from all corners of the arena. Back flips and cartwheels; hooler hoops and balls; they all wore elaborate costumes accompanied with overbearing grins and smiles. The show was being performed yet Sam was unconvinced. The artificial nature of the performing artists fell short of realism. There smiles and laughs found no joy in Sam. From the masterly crafted array of lights and sounds to the people performing to the crowd, Sam could see it all for what it was. He didn’t know why or how he saw it. All the young boy knew was that it was all fake.
Hands in the air, the Ring Master asked for the applause of all. Without hesitation the bewildered crowd willingly gave there acceptance. The comically dressed man in the top hat cracked his whip twice; the performers flipped there way out of the arena to the delight of the on watching crowd. Once more the arena fell dark except for the single spot light that shone down on the Master of the Big Top. The man left his podium and walked onto the coveted ground of the arena. “Ladies and Gentlemen! They fly high and make the impossible seem possible. I’ve seen them fly and so will you. I give you the amazing Vuelo brothers!”
Spot lights focused on the inside peak of the big top. Performers took there place high above the arena. The Ring Masters light turned dark; all the attention was on the high flyers. Persius, the lead acrobat, leapt from his podium high in the sky, tarring through the air on his trapezes. Sam’s focus was on the crowed more than on the Vuelo Brothers. Persius let go of the trapezes; spinning twice in the air before his opposite court him. Back and forth they went, Persius and Prium, bewildering stunt after another. All performed in the heights of the Big Top.
“Its time!” The main spot light focused back to the Ring Master. “Very soon well see the first of our special guests picked at random form you the audience. This person has the chance, this one and only chance to walk into this very here arena,” The Ring Master walked over to a box that was placed in the centre of the arena while all the crowds attention was focused on the acrobats. From the box he produced the leg of a dead chicken. Holding the leg above his top hat the Ring Master walked slowly around the arena. A rectangular shape formed in the sand of the arena. At first it was just the outline; only to completely fall away revealing a dark, underground passage. He tossed the chicken leg, landing next to the dark passage. An awe stuck audience sat in anticipation. From the depths of the dark passage resonated the deep growl of a hungry beast. A breathless shock coursed through the crowed when the lion leapt forth from the darkness and engulfed the leg of chicken.
“One of you,” the Master turned in a circle pointing at the crowed, “Will have the greatest of honors…. to be dinner for Jackson the Lion.” The Ring Master held his hands high above his head. The crowed was silent, disturbed by the insanity of his mind. “You’ll have to forgive me that crude carnival joke. The real prize is performing with the clowns’ magical show.” The master removed his top hat and gave it a flick of the wrist to the crowed. Placing his hand into the hat he pulled out a piece of paper with a letter and a number written on it. “My friends, I’m glad to announce tonight’s lucky winner is M37.” Even the members of the front row looked at there seat numbers. Sam looked around at the frantic crowed hoping to have there seat number called. A pull on his shirt alerted Sam to the attention of the old man seated next to him.
“You’ve got the seat young lad.”
You’ve got the seat. Sam stared back at the elderly man considering what he had just heard. An idea made its way into his head. I have the seat. Slowly he turned his attention to the plastic number on his seat. M37. Sam’s eyes bulged in his head. He looked back at the elderly man, “I have the seat.” The coursing warmth of victory made its way from head to toe, followed by a delightful rush of butterflies in his stomach.
“Well don’t just sit there…. Get going.” The elderly man urged Sam from his seat and down to the arena.

2. A WALK IN TIME

From the back of the crowd the arena appeared huge. Sam stepped out onto the arena; the Ring Masters podium appeared to be far into the distance. With every step time seemed to slow. He could make out the faces in the dark, the audience in the front row. They all cheered and clapped, there hands coming together in a dull yet emphasized boom. Slower and slower they clapped with each becoming slower than the last. At first he could feel a deep thud repeating itself over and over in his chest. BOOOM……. BOOOM…… BOOOM. The cheers of the crowed became over powered by the thudding sound in his chest. His head began to thump. The thudding sound from his chest shut out all other sounds. All that was left was the rhythm of; BOOOM… BOOOM… BOOOM. Taking notice of the faces in the dark, the faces that were clapping slower and slower with no noise, were not the happy faces you would generally fined with a clapping crowed. In fact they showed the opposite, jealous and malcontent. Sam could feel there penetrating gaze. High in the top of the tent a bright white light shown down upon him; with each step now he could feel himself moving faster. The audience’s clapping regained its momentum and drowned out the rhythmic thud. Greeted by the Ring Master at the podium, the sounds and speed of all had returned to normal.

3. THE RING MASTER

Black shinny top hat, twin tailed red coat with fluffy gold trim and big buttons, knee high black boots, thin and curved black mustache all worn my a man with a striking resemblance to Liam Neeson from the movie Batman Begins. Sliding the brim of his top hat through his thumb and fore finger, the Ring Master took a bow and held out his left hand to Sam.
“Come up here young man, don’t be shy.” Sam took his hand and stepped up onto the podium. “What’s you’re name son?”
The unsettling walk across the arena and the vast eyes focusing on him left Sam breathless.
The Ring Master knelt on one knee and whispered in Sam’s ear, “Don’t be afraid, If you don’t want to tell me you’re name I can always give one too you?” Although the man had the appearance of Liam Neeson he whispered with the care of Robin Williams as Patch Adams. Sam wanted to tell the man his name yet found himself breathless once more. The Ring Master smiled cheerfully and understandingly at Sam.
“Say hello to Sam!” The Ring Master called to the crowed and the crowed answered with boisterous applauses and cheers. Sam never said a word a yet this strange Ring Master knew is name. Two clowns wheeled a large decretive box of bright colours into the arena. Sam felt a wave of sadistic evil radiating from the clowns. The same feeling he felt from reading Stephen King’s It.
“Come this way my boy.” The Ring Master herded Sam towards the bright box. “Climb into the box Sammy and we’ll do the rest.”
Sam stood motionless, an awe of fear swept over him. The cold silent interior of the box beckoned to him, as if a lifeless shadow wanted to reach out and pull him in. He took a step backwards.
“Were you going Sammy? Don’t be scared of the box, we’ve performed this little trick thousands of times.” Sam believed they’d performed some kind of trick with the terrible box, but what it was? The two clowns picked Sam up and placed his fear struck body in the box. He wanted to say no, to resist but the overwhelming fear was growing stronger and stronger. All he could do was lye in the bottom of the terrible cold and lifeless box as the light was extinguished when to lid was closed. Unable to move, unable see, there was silence and an overwhelming sense of violence.


THE BOX

Darkness surrounded Sam, taking hold and not letting go, as a leech to it’s pray. He could no longer feel his tiny prison yet he was still unable to move. Bound in the darkness by an invisible source, as if floating in an imaginary abyss, terror that only a young child feels in the dark grew stronger and stronger. His arms, as straight as an arrow, are locked by his side. The crushing weight of the darkness pressing down upon his chest, every breath getting weaker, images of creatures in the dark raced through Sam’s mind, ghostly creatures haunting his bedroom window, the Boogeyman slashing him apart when he appears from his bedroom closet. Freddy Krugger tormenting him before his spectacular blood drenched death. Taking shape in front of his eyes formed the face of the clown from Stephen Kings story ‘IT.’ Pennywise smiled at him, Sam could do nothing but watch his fear manifest in front of him. “Hi ya Sammy.” The giant spider disguised as a clown had said that in the book to a young boy named George, before killing him. “They all float down here,” Sam tried to scream but the crushing darkness left him breathless. “And you’ll float too!” Pennywise’s lips peeled back revealing his razor sharp teeth. The darkness held Sam’s eyes open, forcing him to watch his greatest fear. Pennywise lunged at Sam, the ‘Jaws’ like mouth of razor sharp teeth hurtling closer and closer and then was gone but that same overwhelming sense of violence in this dark silence returned stronger, the crushing wait pressing down harder and harder. Terrified in the dark, unable to move, unable breath he could feel the surroundings of his tiny prison. The hardest of thumps shook Sam’s tiny prison. All that remained was the darkness, no Pennywise, no constricting darkness. Sam could move once again. Raising his arms he could feel the lid of the box, it was ice cold and rough like stone. Pushing with all his might, the lid slipped only a fraction to the side but it was enough to let the tiniest ray of blinding light into the box. The light brought hope but an intense fear that there was nowhere to hide from Pennywise, he was in the darkness. Sam relentlessly pushed at the stone lid, forcing his fingers into the crack of light. The light felt as hot as the sun and yet it did not deter him from escaping. Beats of sweat ran down his face and began covering his body. He had to get out, Pennywise was coming. With one final breath the lid moved enough for him to slide out.


© Copyright 2006 Clarke Kent (clarkekent14 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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