Oliver
“Oliver Graham, get your keister moving! The boss will be in any minute!”
I groaned as I rolled off of my bed in the back of the workshop. Sleep had glued my eyes shut during the night. I aggressively rubbed at my lids, just trying to be able to pry them open.
My name is Oliver Graham. The year is 1934, and I turned twenty-two a few months ago. I didn’t think there was anything too special about me.
When I was a child, I never thought I would be sleeping in the back of a carpenter’s workshop. Covered in a constant layer of dust and living off of the scraps I could afford. I never thought I would be orphaned by twelve, either. Sometimes life is just a bitch.
I had done a little bit of everything in the past decade. When my parents first died, I worked as a field hand for a neighbor, but that didn’t last long. I worked in a bakery, mechanic shop, a dinner, a hotel, a mine, a manufacturing plant, and a few other jobs. I jumped from town to town. Job to job. Nothing felt right. Nothing was stable. The whole country was desperate to find any small thread of stability; it wasn’t just me.
“I hear you, Chester,” I mumbled as I ran my finger through my curly brown hair, trying to make myself look less disheveled. I glanced at my reflection in the smudged window glass. I pulled my shirt sleeve over my fist and made concentric circles. I let the thin fabric drop from my hand as I touched the cool glass tracing my face in the reflection with my fingers.
The residual grease, sweat, and dirt from yesterday lingered on my face. I grabbed an old rag and tried to rub away the grim. I could use a bath, but that was a luxury I didn’t get to partake in very often. I would have to try and take a dip in the river tonight or maybe tomorrow.
I tugged my suspenders over my shoulders and adjusted my duds as I walked into the workshop. I inhaled deeply; I loved the smell of sawdust, something about it was comforting. It probably had something to do with the fact this was the most stable job I ever had. I got lucky that day.
“You hit the hooch last night?” Chester leaned up against a workbench. Chester was a good kid. He was only eighteen, but he acted like a complete youngster. Chester had blue eyes and still had some baby fat lingering in his cheeks.
“No, Chester, I did not,” I ruffled his ginger hair as I walked past him. His Pa died earlier this year. Now Chester was helping his family survive. His Ma was a seamstress, and between their two salaries, they supported his little brother and sister. I liked the youngster, but he always assumed I was drinking. I lived in the shop’s office in the back on a dirty cot; where would I get the money to drink?
The jingle of the bell echoed through the workshop as the door swung open. “Morning, boys!”
There was Richard Wilkinson, the boss. He was gracious enough to put up with Chester and me. He was a conscientious man. The type of person who wouldn’t even squash a spider that wondered its way into his shop. For some reason, he saw something in me. Even if I didn’t.
“Morning, boss.” I greeted Richard as I grabbed my work apron off its hook.
“Morning.” Chester ran his hand over his hair, trying to flatten it as he shot me a sour face.
“What’s on the agenda today?” I asked as I pulled a clipboard of a rusted nail in the wall.
“Mr. Wilson wants us to take a look at the platform at the station,” Richard called over his shoulder while he rummaged through his wooden toolbox.
“Why?” Chester groaned slightly as he adjusted his overalls. “We just fixed it a couple of months ago. There is no way that it needs maintenance already. Not unless there was a herd of elephants that ran through town, and I missed it.”
“Speaking of elephants, Mr. Wilson says there is a circus coming into town. He just wants to make sure everything is as safe as possible.” Richard thumped Chester on the forehead. “Why are you questioning a paying job? When did you get such deep pockets? Chester, if someone wants you to do something for a quick buck and it’s an easy job, why wouldn’t you do it?”
“Dip,” I smirked.
“A circus? Aces!” Chester grinned, ignoring Richard’s lecture and my jab. “I bet my kid siblings would love to go. When are they getting into town?”
“Did you even listen to me?” Richard shut his took box with a loud click. Chester offered the boss a sheepish half-hearted smile. Richard pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head at Chester. “They are arriving this afternoon. So get your cans in gear.”
“Yes, sir,” I grabbed my cap and threw it on my head. “Come on, Chester, get your keister moving.”
I grinned as I snatched up my toolbox before I followed Richard out the door. I hopped up into the back of his pickup truck and stretched my legs out as I leaned up against the side of the bed with my arms tucked behind my head.
The job was a piece of cake. There was nothing wrong with the platform; we secured a couple of the joists and fixed some creaky boards. Nothing we did was going to be the difference between life or death. Richard was right when he was talking about this job being a quick buck.
We finished the job pretty quickly. The sun was high in the sky as we sat on the tailgate of Richard’s truck. Richard’s wife, Phyllis, had visited her sister recently and gotten a ton of fresh eggs from her farm. Phyllis had sent her husband to work with egg salad sandwiches. As always, Richard shared with us.
We sat there in comfortable silence, watching the world slowly go on around us. Mothers walking with their children. Men tucked away in the corner talking with their heads down. Merchants trying to peddle their goods. The world had changed. Once it had been so vibrant and full of life, now it was shades of gray.
I took another bite of my sandwich as I heard the faint clickety-clack of an incoming train. Smoke billowed up over the treetops. I felt my heart starting to beat faster and faster.
Richard pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. “Well, boys, it looks like the circus is in town.” He slipped his watch back into his pocket and pulled out a deck of luckies. Richard slid out a butt and pressed it to his lips before lighting it.
The town suddenly came alive like someone dumped gasoline on a live wire. Everyone was abuzz and filled with energy. Just the presence of the train was enough for us. Was it hope, or was it just the promise of a distraction? Whatever it was, we were already eating out of this circus’s hands.
Children rushed towards the entrance of the station. Their energy was infectious; it seeped into every single person on the street. People slowly wander after the children, first one by one and then two by two. Richard, Chester, and I seemed to be the only ones who didn’t go to the train station. Everyone seemed to be talking over the top of each other in giddy anticipation.Suddenly the crowd that had formed around the station parted. Two figures made their way through. It was as if time slowed down just for them. No one dared to get in their way. Each step they took, the crowd followed a few yards back.
The duo was a man and a woman. I had never seen them before. The man had dark features, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt. His skin gleamed in the afternoon sun; he carried a glass bottle in one hand and caressed the woman’s hand with his other. The woman was a hot tomato; she had luscious long black hair and dark eyes. She wore a black lace dress, black opera gloves, and a black top hat.
Every step she took caused the women around town to slightly recoil. She was ginchy, and she knew it. She knew everyone else knew it, too.
The woman caught me staring at her and locked eyes with me. She winked at me and smiled as they passed. Confidence poured off of her. Only as she walked away from me did I notice the tattoos that littered her skin.
“Christ.” Chester hoarsely whispered out.
“Your jaw is hanging open, boy,” Richard blew out a puff of smoke. Chester shut his mouth and continued to watch the parade of people.
The duo walked to the small park across the street from the train station. The man helped the woman climb up on a bench. The woman planted a kiss on his cheek before placing both hands on her hips expectantly.
The man brought the bottle up to his lips and took a mouthful. He pulled a lighter out of his pocket and spewed out the liquid in his mouth; fire ruptured into the air. The crowd that followed them was in complete awe.
“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages! Come to Cirque du Lune tomorrow night! Hear the music, laugh at the clowns, be thrilled and amazed by our performers!” The woman boomed. “Come one! Come all! Let your heart soar!”
A fire roared to life in the air beside her. The crowd clapped and cheered. The woman seemed to be soaking up all of the attention.
“Cirque du Lune will not disappoint you!” She called over the noise.
Once their spiel was over and the crowd began to disperse, the duo started back to the train station. I’m not sure what came over me, but I called out to the pair as they passed the truck. "What does Cirque du Lune mean?"
The words slipped through the woman’s cherry red lips like they were some sort of dirty secret. “Cirque du Lune is French for Circus of the Moon.”
“That’s an odd name for a circus,” I mused. Chester landed a shift elbow to my ribs, and I groaned on the impact.
“Make sure to come by tomorrow night and see if you think we are odd then.” The woman let out an amused snort. “Oh, buddy, we’ll blow your mind.”
Oliver"Have a good night, Oliver," Richard called over his shoulder as he opened the front door. He had a cigarette hanging out of his mouth as he tipped his hat to me. Richard smoked like a fiend at work; his wife didn't like him to smoke at their home. She said that the cigarettes stunk up their house."Night, boss," I called after him as the door swung shut, wafting one last puff of smoke into the workshop. I made my way through the machinery and tables, enjoying the quiet. I plopped down on my bed, letting my eyes lids close. It wasn't busy or even a demanding day, but I was exhausted. I was perpetually shot. Finally, I heard the rumble of Richard's truck leaving the shop.I pried my body up to rummage through my small chest. This wooden box housed my only belong
Oliver The icy realization of leaving the key to the shop down at the river was devastating. It slowly trickled down my spine before manifesting into a nauseating pit in my stomach. I couldn’t bring myself to go back and retrieve the key. The light of day had dwindled away hours ago, and with whatever was down there, it wasn’t a risk I was willing to take. I loitered outside the workshop until the streets became bare; no noise but the faint hoot of a barn owl somewhere out in the distance. The rest of the town had drifted off into a peaceful slumber. Thank goodness our town was relatively quiet, and no one stayed up late. As I had waited, I had figured out what my plan was going to be. I wasn’t going back to the river, that was for sure, but I couldn’t sleep outside on the street. I knew that the Millers had gotten a new shipment of hay for their horses last weekend. Without another thought, I made my way to their property and waited until the last li
Oliver"Hurry up!" Chester's voice assaulted me as I hastily fumbled with the buttons on my shirt.After I admitted to Chester that I slept in the Miller's barn, he graciously allowed me to follow him home like a lost dog to use his shower.I couldn't tell you the last time I even was in a residential bathroom, let alone a shower. I had forgotten how solid a shower actually felt. I just wanted to let the water rain down on me for hours. I hated to admit I had lost track of time; until Chester banged on the door, pulling me out of my haze."Hold on!" I called through the door as I patted down my damp curls."The rest of the town
OliverA loud clunk followed by a distinctive hum echoed through the tent before six vibrant spotlights fell on the center ring. There he was. Jules was dressed in white britches, knee-high black books, a crimson tailcoat, and a black top hat. His blonde hair was slicked back in his typical hairstyle.Of course, he was the ring leader! Why didn't I think of that before? Why else would a random Frenchman be in town?"Mesdames et Messieurs! I proudly present my wolves!" Jules's voice bounced off of the tent, his last statement catching everyone off guard.Whispers engulfed the audience. "Wolves?" "What does he mean?" "Are we in danger, mommy?"Before I made out any other words, the sound of paws hitting the ground radiated from beside me. I instinctively gulped and scooted closer to the older couple I was sitting beside."It's okay, son." The old man leaned over his wife and tried to comfort me. "I have been to many of a circus, and they alway
OliverThe crowds slowly started to disperse, but I stayed planted in my seat. Time seemed to speed up as I stared at the center ring. It felt like only seconds went by before I realized I was alone in the tent. It was just me and the magic that lingered in the air of the show that I had witnessed.I sighed as I stretched out my joints. I was about to stand up when someone appeared beside me, Jules. He leaned up against the bench I sat on and followed my eyes to the ring."So what did you think of my little show, Mr. Graham?" Sweat clung to Jules's forehead as he pulled out a handkerchief and tried to dab it away."It was a gasser! It's a good thing you are leaving tomorrow,
OliverIt was as if time slowed on its axis as she turned around. The star's light twinkled in her eyes blue eyes, turning them into pools of constellations. Her hair caught the moonlight, making her look like a mythical creature...or maybe even an angel."Jules, honey, you know I like my quiet time after the show." Elsie's voice wasn't like anything I had ever heard before. There was a strength in her tone but, at the same time, something soft."I know; I am sorry." Jules tucked his chin down and looked at the train car. He was like a puppy being scolded; I almost felt bad for the guy. "This is my new friend Oliver Graham. He seemed so mesmerized by your act. I thought he would like to meet you."
OliverMy feet were like lead as I dragged myself away from the train car. I didn't want to leave.Something inside of me wanted to stay with her. I couldn't put my finger on it, but there was something unusual about her. Elsie had said that Jules could seem almost magical, but in my opinion, she was the magical one.I kicked at a pebble as I slowly started to head away from the Circus grounds. It rolled across the dirt path. I would get to see her in the morning, so why was I acting this way. She did say that tomorrow morning was it, though when those words left her lips, I felt part of my heart fracture."Oliver! Where are you going?" There was that french accent again; how did Jules always seem to know where I was? If he kept it up, I would probably think he was tracking me or something.I turned around and scratched the back of my head sheepishly. I was supposed to stay with Elsie until he came back, and instead, I left. He was pr
Oliver"Chester...Chester's dead?" The words tasted like charcoal in my mouth and made me feel as if I was drowning, gasping for a breath of fresh air. It was as if freezing cold water had been dumped over top of me. The hangover that was clinging to me was ripped away, leaving me in a confused and emotional state."Yeah, Mrs. Green found them first thing this morning." I felt Richard watching me like he was studying some type of science experience. "She said that the front door was left partially open. At first, Mrs. Green thought maybe one of the younger kids left it open when they ran out the door. When she knocked on the door to let them know, no one answered. That was when she went in..."Richard's voice began to tremble as he trailed off. Richard looked away from me; his eyes seemed to be examining every surface in the office. Now that I was more present, I recognized how pale his skin was with deep dark bags underneath his eyes."Mrs. Green found a