Lucid Waking

Archive for July 29th, 2007

Freaks

            The freak show was in town and the only reason Alison was going was because James invited her. She would have never indulged in the crude practices the rest of her town enjoyed in, but she, like every other girl, couldn’t say no to James’ imploring smile. So in the middle of a slight drizzle, she was walking hand in hand with a tall, dark skinned, dark haired boy waiting to go into a large candy-cane circus tent. She sighed inaudibly and pretended that she was waiting in line at the cinema. James smiled back at her.
            “I heard they have a good batch this year,” he told her excitedly. “And the human tree is coming back.”
            Well, this isn’t the most romantic thing you could’ve done, she thought. But the more she kept looking at him, the less annoyed she got. She was too busy staring at his high cheekbones and sparkling eyes to notice him hand her a ticket and usher her inside.
            And she kept focusing on him in order to get her through the laughter at the unfortunate people on stage. Finally the laughter stopped and the people shifted excitedly. The announcer called out the derogatory term assigned to this person and the lights lifted on an empty platform. People booed and hissed as the master of ceremonies looked around nervously.
            “Ah, well,” the master of ceremonies said clearing his throat, “they must not have been able to get him out of his cage.”
            James stopped voicing his displeasure and started to take Alison’s hand. “Let’s go,” he said, but stopped as the crowd cheered again. Lumbering up to the stool under the light and being led like a dog from a chain around his neck was a large lumbering man looking much like a gorilla. His dark skin was scarred from whips and his sunken eyes were dull. The man had high cheekbones and identical smooth graceful hands to the one she was holding. James paled and stared silent at the new victim. A few minutes went by as people shouted and threw things at the man before Alison felt a tug on her hand and was sent flying through the crowd towards the exit. She was barely able to squeak out apologies before she was out into the fresh air of the darkening sky.
            James wouldn’t look at her, but even in the dying light she could tell he was crying. She squeezed his hand gently and pulled alongside him, resting her head on his shoulder.
            “What’s wrong?” she asked when they were far away from the tent and her perfect suburban house pulled into view. He led her up the stairs onto her porch in silence.
            “That was my dad,” he said quietly. “I didn’t know he…” his voice trailed off.
            “It’s all right,” Alison said. “How could you have known?”
            “He left my mom when I was young, so I never really knew him, but from what I remember from photographs…”
            They stood in silence a little longer, shock staying on James’ features much longer than sadness. Alison wasn’t sure how to leave politely, so she stood nervously on her porch, hoping her parents wouldn’t open the door and ask what was what. Finally he bowed politely and started down the steps.
            “I’m sorry,” he said. “How can I make it up to you?”
            “A movie would be nice,” she said.
            He smiled. “Good night, then. Pleasant dreams.” And with that, he walked down the steps and down the street, his hands shoved in his pockets as he walked towards the house he called home.