It’s a circus
Pedro leaned casually against the brightly coloured wall. His chain gleamed and his fur glistened.
‘Come Pedro,’ called the master, and the chimp leapt into his arms.
The old man pushed back his fedora to reveal a gaunt face, black eyes and grey goatee. On his right wrist his amber worry beads were worn smooth with age. The master adjusted the waistcoat of his pinstripe suit, and repositioned his famous smile, with just a flash of gold tooth.
In the distance, wooden horses rode imaginary waves on the merry-go-round to the sound of a metallic song. People screamed as the roller coaster swooped and lurched, while those waiting in line gazed up in awe-filled trepidation. Families strolled, little children carried fuzzy clouds of pink candyfloss, and teenagers slouched against the ticket counters.
‘Pah!’ laughed the master, scratching his balls, a habit which Pedro approved of heartily. The master’s dignified stance belied his inner turmoil. He wondered where she was, and if she had found out. He wondered when he would see her again, and if it would be for the last time. He wondered if she would come.
Pedro smelt it before he saw it. He bared his teeth, screeched, and gripped the master’s neck. Then leaping out of the master’s arms he jumped up and down in alarm, banging his arms on the ground.
‘What is it Pedro?’ asked the master as people began to run. The ice cream van was overturned; a suspicious looking man screamed while trying to kick candy floss off his shoes; a little girl jumped behind her father; and a waitress with large, mischievous boobs held out a red wig while a woman screeched ‘don’t touch me’.
The master scratched his balls and shook his head. ‘That damn bear again’, he said. He zipped up his pockets and strode towards his caravan, chain in hand. ‘Wait here Pedro,’ he said, putting the chimp down on the bed, ‘and no nonsense,’ he added. Then, grabbing a large jar of honey from a partially full box, he stepped out, and locked the door. Pedro was already at the window, peeping through the white lace curtains.
The master headed away from the shouts and screams, towards the dimly lit tent housing the acrobats, situated under an old oak tree. Finding the hole in the tree’s bark, he carefully poured the honey into it. Then, once he’d adjusted his waistcoat, combed his hair carefully and replaced comb and mirror in his inside pocket, tilted his fedora to the right angle, and scratched his balls, the master adopted a casual pose against the tree’s trunk, amber worry beads rolling familiarly through his fingers.
The bear arrived within minutes, as always closely followed by the bearded lady in an extravagant pink tutu. Her generous bosom sparkled in a rainbow coloured sequin and diamante bustier. Her beard hung in golden ringlets, matching her hair.
‘Good evening Ivana’, the master said.
Ivana smiled, moving her ample form closer.‘Thank you daahlink’, she said, ‘alvays it is you who safe me and zis very notty bear’. She placed an enormous pink fur collar around the bear’s neck and attached a chain.
‘Pah!’ replied the master, flashing the famous smile in full gold teeth and scratching his balls, ‘maybe we have dinner one night ?’
‘Zat wud be luffly daalink,’ said the bearded lady as she led the bear away.