The Elephant In the Room

Clowns flew, arms outstretched, red cones with white polka-dots tumbling from their heads. Screams were heard as dust clouds blinded sweaty workers, running into each other as girls in sequined tutus chased after skittish horses painted green.

“Get him under control!” a voice boomed. “Do whatever it takes!” Expletives flew, just like clowns.

“I swear! This should’ve been taken care of long ago!” Big Joe took long, deliberate steps to his trailer and flung open the door.

Some gathered near the trailer to see what he would do. Dust clouds continued to erupt behind them. Many were ringing their hands, whispering to one another.

Big Joe emerged, rifle in one hand, a box of bullets in the other.

"Oh, no! He can't! What will we do?" one whispered as the man fumbled to open the box on the top step of his trailer.

"That animal doesn't deserve that!" another said under their breath.

"Someone has to say something!" another quietly hissed.

"Is nobody going to say it?" a little girl asked her sister, looking up at her with pleading eyes. The big sister remained quiet, holding her breath as tightly as her little sister’s hand.

A boy no bigger than a goat, with tousled blonde hair stepped forward. “But sir, please…” his timid voice cried out. “Please, he was just…”

“Who the hell are you?” Big Joe paused loading his rifle long enough to visually pierce whoever dared confront him.

The boy looked down, overalls sagging, barefoot. “I’m Luke,,,,sir.” he stammered. “I help...feed...the animals.”

“Will someone get this little cockamamie [expletive] out of my sight?!” the man yelled.

“C’mon,” a plump, older woman with a faded floral apron said, still holding a greasy ladle. She tried to gently lead the boy away.But he just stood there as Big Joe finally got his rifle loaded and jumped down the remaining metal steps of his trailer, rifle in hand, stomping towards the scene in the near distance.

Thick chains were being swung up over the magnificent beast in an attempt to keep him from breaking loose. He spun in a circle, tossing the men who were still trying to hang onto the ends of the chains, soaring through the air on this unexpected ride. The rope that held him was just about to snap when the dusty beast tripped and fell headfirst, legs buckled.

Just as the man was approaching, a dozen or so sweaty, dirty workers quickly drove metal stakes into the ground, five heavy chains finally in place around the animal.

“Big Joe! Is that really necessary?” a woman’s soothing but steady voice came.

Big Joe turned to see his wife walking briskly up behind him, a beautiful dark-eyed brunette, dressed for something a bit more luxurious than the plot of dirt they stood on. 

She got closer and he smelled the sweet scent of lilacs as she whispered in his ear, “Don’t forget the money we still owe all those nasty leeches in Wisconsin.” 

He lowered the rifle and cussed.

She was right. He’d lost so much time and money trying to sue the man who’d sold him the unruly beast. The case was eventually dismissed, and all he’d won were more court fees. But forget that, it was the bank’s money, anyway. And what were they going to do, come take the thing? What would they do with it? Sell it to the butcher down the road? He had half a mind to do that himself, but his wife was right. He needed to keep it around long enough to pay off the loan. 

Truth was, the crowds loved the ugly, pompous beast. Every time he entered the arena, roars of applause shook the tent. The stupid thing would hold his head high, absorbing the glory. Then every time it walked past Big Joe, it snorted, spraying him with mucous. Infuriated, Big Joe would pluck a handkerchief from his suit pocket and wipe his face, plotting to kill the thing.

But an elephant was the quintessential element every circus needed. Everyone’s seen a clown. Everyone’s seen a horse. Everyone’s seen a pretty girl. But not everyone’s seen a mammoth-sized animal. 

Colorful illustrations of the elephant in a glowing orange vest, on a red, white and blue background were plastered on posters across every town, big and small. Girls in tutus balanced on its back. “Come see Goliath and the Robinette Girls at Big Joe’s Circus!” it said.

Looking straight into his wife’s dark eyes, Big Joe finally broke the silence and growled, “Just make sure he’s kept down.”

“Don’t worry, honey, I will.” 

He stomped back to his trailer as his wife sauntered the opposite way, towards the chained beast.

"Keep him chained, boys," she told the workers.

She looked at the poor thing’s face, humbled, degraded, and almost felt sorry for it before remembering it was just an animal. “Now look here, you,” she said to it. He turned his eye as if listening. 

Drawing her finger along one of the many lines of scars on his face, some fresh with blood, she whispered, “You’d better just simmer down if you know what’s good for you! I saved your hide today, but there’s no telling what that man will do if this happens again.”

The eye closed as she turned to leave. Was he exhausted…sleeping? Or was he thinking?

“Enjoy the chains!” the woman yelled out while walking back to the trailer.

Eyes still closed, limbs secured in a hill of grey flesh, he lifted his long trunk high into the air, and like a trumpeter sounding an alarm, a blast could be heard, as if to say, “You will never take me!” resonating across the valley.

The woman paused for a moment without looking back, then continued on her way.

“Rupert! Turn that thing off and get in here!”

“Just a minute, Mom. I want to see what happens next!”

“Turn that thing off NOW, or you’ll get a whoopin’ like you never had!”

Rupert sighed, turning it off.