Free The Pilo Family Circus by Will Elliott Page B

trailing off into laughter like howling sexual ecstasy, drowning all distant carnival sounds before an abrupt silence fell.
    That was a bit much. Jamie backed away from the funhouse and turned to go. Then he heard the cart squealing to a halt. He looked back over his shoulder. The couple was nowhere to be seen; the cart was empty.
    He found he was hurrying away in a jog, as though his legs sensed danger his mind couldn’t. All part of the show , the voice inside assured him. Of course. What wasn’t?
     
    Set away from the rest of the attractions, he saw a huge tent with only a few small shanties around it — these seemed to be homes of the dwarfs and gypsies. Occasionally luminous pairs of eyes would peer balefully from cracks in curtains as he walked past. The dwarfs had come out in numbers since nightfall, foul-tempered little things who broke off their conversations when patrons came near, then resumed in heated angry voices. They carried small bags and could be seen picking through the grass with steel tweezers. Jamie at first thought they were after spare change, but as he came near a pair of them at work he saw they were picking up thetiny gleaming crystals he’d noticed on the floor of the magician’s show. The dwarfs scowled at him with such ferocity he backed away in fright.
    When he neared the lonely tent he discovered it housed the freak show, and he hesitated before going in. The sick and weird held no appeal for him, but the eyes at the shanty windows were making him nervous, and getting out of sight seemed wise.
    The only light inside the freak show tent came from yellow bulbs illuminating the glass display cases. On the floor were more gleaming little points of light — more of those powder crystals, far more here than there’d been on the floor of Mugabo’s tent.
    To Jamie’s surprise, in front of one of the glass cases he saw Steve, who was staring avidly at something inside a tall fish tank. Steve spotted him and waved him over. ‘Have a look at this,’ Steve said.
    The label on the tank read: This is Tallow. His every living moment is hellish .
    A pair of human eyes stared mournfully out of a face that looked to be melting. Skin was running like candle wax, bubbling and dripping to the ground in pools before hardening into flesh-coloured lumps on the glass floor.
    ‘Every few minutes he picks up the bits that have melted off and puts them back on himself,’ Steve whispered with relish. Tallow watched them both sadly as a flesh-coloured bubble burst on its neck, dribbling and running down its chest. Jamie grimaced and turned away.
    ‘Jamie, look! He’s doing it!’ said Steve, sounding damn near aroused.
    ‘Let’s get out of here,’ Jamie said. ‘That’s sick. Come on.’
    ‘No way. You gotta see this place. Come and check out thisguy.’ Steve dragged him by the arm to an exhibit not confined in a glass case. They stood before what may have once been human until nature played a very cruel joke. From the neck down he was fine, five feet or so of humanity dressed in a grey suit and tie. The thing’s head was where the trouble began — it was covered in scales, too large for its body, and had catfish whiskers growing from gills in the neck. Its mouth was very wide like a shark’s and packed with vicious teeth. When the mouth opened and spoke Jamie almost screamed.
    ‘Hello. I am Fishboy, curator of the freak show.’
    ‘This is my friend Jamie,’ said Steve. ‘Jamie, this is Fishboy. He can breathe under water, he says.’
    ‘Pleased to meet you, Jamie,’ said Fishboy. His voice was high-pitched as if he’d inhaled helium. There was something obscene about his friendliness. ‘I hope you enjoy our exhibits as much as Steve does. Yeti will be doing a glass-eating show in fifteen minutes. I guarantee it’s the furriest, bloodiest performance in the whole circus!’
    ‘Oh man, we gotta see the glass show,’ Steve said.
    Jamie shook his head. ‘See you later,’ he said.
    ‘Why?