Trapeze

Everyone’s story begins differently. And mine begins in a circus house. I grew up with a showman for a father and acrobat artist for a mother. We were constantly travelling around the country, waking up every day in a different place. I remember how I’d used to travel in a train, and I would run up and down the corridor each morning waking up everyone. I felt so excited. So alive. The boundary between family and friends is blurred in circus life because we all live together.

Surprisingly before we started travelling, we did have a solid home on the grounds soil, and it was in a small village called Sherwood. For the first few years of my youth we stayed there, so I could get a normal childhood and get consistent schooling like the other kids, but I realized staying in school wasn’t for me. I loved the artistic style and always felt like I’m meant to be on a stage and perform maybe it’s just in the blood or perhaps that I benefited from my family being available all the time.

My mother was my biggest ideal, I’d watch her in admiration behind the curtains whether in practice or in live performances as she glided through the air like a violent yet serene ballet. I was around seven when my mum decided to slowly let me join. I’d eagerly climb onto her like a baby koala and hold tight as she glided us through the air. One thing I learnt through that is there is no time to be afraid.

She finally for the very first time made me join her in the live performance a year or two later. The sheer magic of the lights shinning on you and the Adrenalin levels rising as you get ready to do something ultimately risky is unbeatable. I didn’t do anything great other than latching on to my mother for dear life while she elegantly moved. I couldn’t learn anything as I was too young but just being suspended by gravity during the night’s performance put a huge grin on my face.

Over time, I felt as if I couldn’t do it. Every time I tried, I never seemed to get it right. New bruises and cuts would dance on my skin when I failed. I felt like a weight was pulling me down, but I kept pushing forward. Until the impossible happened, my mother took her last dying breaths doing what she loved the most. Performing. She had severe cancer, but she continued performing. I was there watching her as she collapsed In front of everyone on stage. I felt my whole world crumbling down. That my biggest idol and a part of me was being ripped from me leaving a dent in its place in my chest.

Her funeral felt like blur. I didn’t cry, I couldn’t cry. I felt immobile. I kept looking at her waiting for her to wake up to hug me and kiss my forehead and say everything was alright. I felt like the world was going against me.

I remember one day when my mum was crying waterfalls. I didn’t understand why, I was just a naive child. Seeing her sad made me sad. She kept asking me to make a promise.

Promise me Isabella, promise me you will keep what you believe in and love first. promise me? She kept repeating. I didn’t understand what she was talking about, but I promised if that would make her stop crying, and it did.

Father just acted indifferent and continued to do business after moms passing. I thought it was his way of coping to mothers parting, but I realized a reason too late that he was engrossed in the money making of the circus more

After mom left, I couldn’t partake in any performances since papa would say I was still too young, I became the food and drinks girl in the circus I’d go around the stadium ringing a bell screaming “popcorn! Come and get your own popcorn!” and after the performance was done, I would have to clean up the mess of spilt drinks and candy wrappers made by both adults and kids, grumbling to myself.

Until one night I changed it all. As usual I was cleaning up the mess after the performance was done and headed out to explore. From a distance I could hear subtle ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’. I then remembered that there was another local circus right around the corner. Teenage me curiously went lurking around the corner to peek through the curtain of the tent. And what I saw evoked a dreamlike world. I watched as the performers swim in the light and clouds. It was representing a story of the body and the soul or the mirrored image of ourselves. I watched in fascination and awe. You can see performers do things you think are not possible, almost like superheroes.

How do you trust the ground when all you’ve known is flight?

Papa obviously wasn’t going to put me in performance school. So, I took the responsibility of learning by myself I spent countless nights after performances learning to do basics such as cartwheels handstands. The only companions I had were the elephants, lions and monkeys watching my every move. New bruises would dance on my skin. One time I ended up spraining my leg.

There were days I felt like bawling my eyes in frustration and madness, when I couldn’t complete an act or move. But I never gave up. Finally having courage,

I decided I was going to ask papa to enroll me or teach me the performers life. with determination in my step I walked up to him but faltered in my steps when I noticed he was talking to a boy who I don’t recognize.

A client? Perhaps?

The boy looked to be approximately my age or a year or two older than me at least. I was never good at guessing ages; his hair was lightly curled at the top giving me a view of his porcelain chocolate face.

“ah Isabelle! Let me introduce you to Michael our new backstage props person he will be joining us on our trips from now on” my father spoke upon noticing my presence.

I looked at him in surprise. We haven’t recruited people in a long time since the circus was fine the way we were.

“hello, nice to meet you, Isabella is it? I’m Michael” he told in an accent I wasn’t too sure about, as he held his hand out to shake with a toothy grin plastered on his face.

“hello” I spoke quietly shaking his hand.

He has warm hands

For very outspoken parents I was somewhat a shy kid. Flushing slightly

 “papa? Can I speak to you please?” I asked, shaking my head.

“yes of course” he says as he brings us to a more private corner

“what is it?” he asks with a questioning look

I felt myself quiver back but hold myself firmly. “I want to learn how to perform, I want to learn to do acrobats like mom, you told you would allow me to act and I think I’m finally ready now. I finally turned sixteen for crying out loud! I want to join the crew and be able to perform” I watched as his face harden and a scowl form as he drinks in my words.

“no, you’re not ready” he says turning his back on me trying to walk away

“I’ve been practicing every day since I was thirteen, I think I’m more than capable enough to learn now” I walk backwards blocking his way.

I could see his face sour at the revelation.

“no, you’re not ready, it takes people years to fully perfect something, learning acrobats is not a talent it’s a skill and you certainly won’t ever be like your mom because you CANT” he spat at my face strutting out the exit of the tent.

I was stunned. I could feel tears brimming at my eyes, but I didn’t let them fall out. Papa has never spoke rudely to me, and that’s where our relationship grew distant slowly. But even still I kept practicing in secret. Years have gone by and I have slowly felt at ease with my body. It has strengthened my belief that you do not always have to do very dangerous tricks. They might make you an outstanding acrobat but will not make a great performer.

Not being able to get some sleep. I wander back to the tent and look at all the empty seats. My chest felt heavy and I could feel my cheeks sagging to form a frown.

“Isabelle?” I look up to see none other than Michael. Looking down at me in confusion and surprise from behind the curtain.

Seeing him made me feel all kind of emotions. As he stepped forward, I finally broke down. Tears were clouding my eyes making everything foggy to sight. I could feel a pair of arms enclose on me pushing me towards a warm chest. Looking up I’m met with sad grey eyes.

“She’s g-gone. She’s a-actually gone. I w-want her back. I can’t d-do it. I can’t do anything r-right” I sobbed even harder clutching onto his shirt as I let everything out.

I felt myself going deeper in the dark until a voice put a crack in the shadows told me it was okay to be the light, told me not to swim in the shadows in a gentle whisper. Coming back to earth I push Michael's chest and look up at his worried face and thought of how I found a home in someone that makes my soul laugh and wraps me in love when my heart is stepped on. He was the calm in chaos.

I gave him a broken smile and sigh looking away from his curios eyes as we once again lay down but this time facing the sky and looking up at one of the many stars.

“no one’s perfect. Things take time” he suddenly speaks

“you mother may be gone but she will always be watching over you in the stars” he gently says pointing at my chest.

“and you can’t give up yet, what would she think of you?! That’s not the pudding I know” he jokes making a weird face making me slightly laugh at the nickname he has given me.

In a croaky voice I say “your right. I can’t give up yet” as we both resumes looking up at the stars.

Moving forward as time passes, I continue practicing in secret. There were rare days when he was running late he would help me practice, by keeping his arms wide open if i fall. surprisingly i didn't. Being with him made me notice little things like how he pouts when he is lost in thought or how he has a obnoxiously loud laugh that vibrates the whole place. i tried to push it to the back of my mind

I have slowly felt at ease with my body. I feel almost weightless. It was another night where I secretly performed on stage in front of an empty stadium. Pulling myself into an upright position, my feet curling around the cloth like rope bending forward as I twirled in the air. It was an art form so dazzling for audience because it always carries this live danger. You can’t feel the exhilarating rush mixed with fear in operas or dances. I could feel a breeze on my face caressing my skin as I plummeted down finally finishing my act, I could hear a slow clapping resonate around the room. Looking towards the exit I see none other than Michael looking down at me in what was admiration and surprise.

“Michael?!” with my ragged breathing it was a wonder I was able to get any words out.

“the one and only” he says with a giddy smile.

He had a slight stubble on his chin and his voice sounded deeper. Under the light you can see the mole under the right of his eye clearer.

 “hi” I say breathless with a huge grin.

“you were amazing” he said nudging my shoulder.

Looking at his grey eyes from down it looked brighter, running my eyes all over his face I notice his cheeks were flushed from the cold nights breeze covered in tiny freckles which aren’t noticeable to the eye clearer. Gulping, I look back up to his eyes to see him analyzing me the same way.

“How come you don’t perform on stage with the others?” he asked with a questioning look.

Exhaling as I say “I guess I’m not ready yet”

“but you were spectacular out there! You can’t get any more perfect than that. you were like… like a swan!” he exclaims. I chortle at his antics.

And slowly we bask in a quietness. It wasn’t like those awkward one’s but more so a peaceful one.

It’s been two years since Michael’s has been with us and he fits right in. During the few weeks he first was here, I found out that he used to be a call boy doing measly jobs to earn some hard cash money. He used to live in a foster home since he doesn’t have parents. But he didn’t care. Since he was an orphan I still never got to find out about where he got his deep but captivating accent.

“so, I heard someone is finally turning eighteen tomorrow” Michael spoke suddenly.

I look at him in surprise. My birthday completely slipped my mind, since I was so bent-forward on perfecting my moves.

“I guess so, isn’t it?” I say scratching the back of my head, collecting my stuff as we walk side by side to the exit, shoulders brushing against each other.

“what if I take you out to a dinner it’s on me? After the performance what do u say?” he says breaking the silence, hands in his pocket.

“you don’t have to” I whispered

“I insist” he says in a mock British accent, making me laugh. A grin reaches up his face getting the reaction he wanted.

“Alright then” I say after getting myself to stop laughing.

“great it’s a date then” he splays out quickly before running away. Finally grasping what he said I felt myself blush, biting back a huge smile.

Going to bed, my mind couldn’t help but dwell on his effortlessly charming smile, or his genuine interest in circus life.

The next evening it was mayhem. Everyone was puking or laying in bed. I could see my father sweating bullets constantly time to time wiping his bald head with a handkerchief. The only people who didn’t feel sick were me and papa. I had a sneaky suspicion that this had something to do with the diner they went to yesterday. The show was about to start in two hours, and no one was getting any better any time soon.

With courage in my step I walked up to my father begrudgingly. “you need to let me go up there and perform, I don’t think any of them can perform” surprised he raised his head from whatever he was focusing on.

He looked tired. There were bags under his eyes and grey hair was growing on his beard

“no, you can’t do it, it’s too risky plus there would only be you and- “

“please, you don’t have a choice I’m the only one you’ve got now, it’s my birthday today and I don’t want this to mess everything we built. Please do this for me, do it for mama” I begged

I watched as his eyes sagged and pain lingered on is eyes.

“you look so much like your mother” his voiced was laced with so much emotion.

“your right, your so much bigger now, you’re not my little girl anymore” he sighs smiling sadly. I could feel my eyes sting.

“I’m sorry for not always being there for you. I was just scared the same thing would happen to you like your mom.. But I always love you.” He says gently kissing my forehead.

“now go do what you do best” he pats my back pushing me forward.

With new determination and glee, I ran back to my room dragging out the chest from under the bed. I pulled out a neatly covered costume dress. It was my mother’s dress. It was in a beautiful silver color with the heart top glittered in stones and ending as a tutu of some sort. It was the only thing of hers I had left.

I think I finally understood what mother meant all those years ago, of being true to who you really are. I realized I’m now going to have to push forward to the future without forgetting my past, or what it means to be a daughter to a mother I don’t have now. Climbing out of behind the curtains finally in a long time. Looking down to see my papa’s smiling face, I let the cheering crowds that bring down the house overtake my senses and begin.