Carousel Horses

Carousel Horses

By Ana Neu

“Look mummy!”, she squealed, jumping in her little, pink boots.

It started to rain. The mist begun to cover the circus in a sheen of glary light, licking the steel railings surrounding the park. The air smelt of soggy popcorn, caramel, and rain. I looked down to the little girl. I am not your mother. It’s what I always wanted to say, every single night. Every single time she pointed as she did now, her little fingers stretching to the merry-go-round as if she could pick it up and plunk it before her, like a toy.

“You want do go there?”, I echo, my voice sounding flat and weary to my own ears.

But the girl didn’t seem to notice. She nodded hard enough to roll her head clean off her neck. We made our routine walk around the crowd, avoiding puddles which swelled on the now blackened earth. At least its raining, I thought as I tugged the girl away from a fire acrobat surrounded by a thick crowd, at least something changed.

We passed an old vending machine, and I caught my reflection in the fogged glass. My hair was pulled back in the same hood I’ve worn all my life. Dirt somehow got onto my cheek and I wiped it off quickly. I look like a boy, I thought, darting my eyes away.

We made it to the glowing bulbs lining the carousel’s circled top, casting the horse’s half chipped noses and painted manes in a glow that would attract any child. It was like the beginning of dream to them. It was always the end of a nightmare for me. Every single night, for the last three years I’ve come here, before the merry-go-round, the circus surrounding it like a dolls stage. I’ve memorised everything, as if someone painted the circus on the insides of my eyelids. The food trucks obstructing the park’s lake on the far side. The trapeze tents, rising in high circles, spotting the festival in red and yellow swirls. The rickety Ferris wheel, where the crackling sound of clown music struggled to trump the moans and creaks of the wheel’s metal cages. For a moment it was all too much. The chatter of sugar powdered mouths, the snap of balloons being burst by whistling darts. The glaring pulse of blinking lights, the shiny blur of horses going round and round as if they would never stop. I’ve tried for three years – isn’t that enough?

“Can I go on now?”.

The girl was tugging at my blue sleeve, her eyes glossy like sticky candy apples.

“Course”, I whispered, forcing my lips to stretch till they cracked.

Her little pink boots ran her to the line, filled with other little girls and boys awaiting their ride upon the carousel. The music was whirring in my ears, bouncing off my eardrums in a sick, endless melody. A boy in a capped bonnet walked to the gates, his face slack with boredom. He looked no older than me. His freckled fingers lifted the hatch as he came to look over the line of giggling children.

“Only 10…allowed”, he yawned, not bothering to cover his mouth.

He opened the gate slowly, counting one, two, three jumping boys who pushed at each other as they ran for the golden horse. Four girls and another boy slid into the ring, their giggles bubbling on their sweet tongues. Another boy was let in, he was quieter than the rest, walking over to choose a black horse, sliding up its plastic saddle with ease. He looked just as bored as the gate boy.

“And…ten”, the capped boy flung his hand carelessly.

Pink boots jumped out of the gate, leaving the moans and cries of other children behind. Her pigtails bounced when she hoisted herself up a white horse, flecked with silver where the paint had scrubbed away.

I saw her waving to me as the carousal rolled into motion, the stallions bobbing up and down like buoys on a ceaseless sea. My heart stammered in my chest. The parents around me were cheering, suddenly all too loud in my ears. The light bulbs started to throb in my eyes as everything became clear and crisp, as if I were looking through a sharp lens. My fingers uncurled from the cold railing, my gaze following the girl spin around in a fuzzy blur of blond and pink. I didn’t even know what I was doing when I turned and started to walk away. I can’t help her anymore. I heard the girl’s voice scream something to my back. I was surprised to feel my eyes burning. I’ve tried.

“Mummy!”

I broke off into a run. I couldn’t be here anymore. The rain was pounding my hoodie, soaking to slide against my skin. The mist was so heavy I could barely see anything in front of me. I hit something hard and was sent sprawling to the puddled earth.

“Hey!”, a man’s voice called, “Watch it kid!”.

But I was already pushing myself onto my feet, my hands covered in sludgy mud. I passed the first trapeze tent, its spiralling point looming above the thickening fog. I ran blindly, my eyelashes thick with rain.

“Mummy!”.

Her voice made me run harder. I don’t even know how I could still hear her. But her shrilly voice cut through the pounding mud, the squelch of water beneath my boots. I couldn’t even hear anyone anymore – I could only hear her.

“I CAN’T HELP YOU!”, I screamed out of my clogged throat.

My lungs burned as I ran harder, faster.

“I – I tried”, I rasped between my now, chattering teeth.

I suddenly scattered to a stop. The carousal was before me. My breath was ragged. How did I get here? No children were on the horses, the music had long ago died with the lights. I backed up, my feet taking me back through the fog. I know this place! The voice in my head screamed above my scattering thoughts.

“The Ferris wheel – it should be – should be here…”.

But it wasn’t. My skin started to prickle with sweat, beading like thick clots of caramel, falling down my neck. I spun around, my limbs spinning wildly, desperately trying to make sense of the dark gloom. No one was here. Not a sound but my gasping breath, pluming smokes of white in the air.

“Why did you leave me?”, her small voice said.

I felt my thumbs jam into my ears as I screamed. Her voice. It was suddenly everywhere. Echoing through my skull like a resonating gong. Why did you leave me here? Mummy, I need you. Don’t go away, please. I need to get away. I need to get out of here. My elbows flared back and forth as I ran burying my ears, slamming my eyes shut. I need to get out of here. I need to get out.

With a gasp I suddenly tripped over something, sending my jaw to the ground in a bruising rattle. The wind was knocked out of me and my throat ached like fire. The voices were getting louder and louder. I tried to push myself up, but I screamed – I must have sprained my arm. And then everything went quiet, quiet enough to hear the buzz in my ears. My blurred gaze drifted upwards and before me I saw two little pink boots. She stood outside the carousel’s gates; her eyes suddenly lighting up.

“There you are Mummy!”, she laughed into the empty silence.

I forced myself to get up, my heart hammering, my eyes throbbing red.

“I am sorr – I’m so sorry”, I barely manage to choke.

“It’s okay Mummy”, she said as she laced my hand with her little fingers.

And suddenly the circus came back to me - and I could see.