Chapter Text
The Red River ran through the small town of Natchitoches, Louisiana, forming a bustling hub for shipping goods and fur trading throughout the region, but shortly after the township was established, the river shifted and left in its path only a meager lake, named Cane River Lake. This could have murdered most fledgling towns, but this wasn’t simply any town. It was filled with folks that put down their roots and chose to settle this town nevertheless. The indigenous people whom the town had been named for had been overwhelmed with tradesmen from the European nations, most of the French persuasion. The inhabitants in the grand scheme of things were nothing special, it was very like any poor town in the rural United States. It was wrought with tiny shops, farms and struggling families seeking to feed themselves during the grip of a Great Depression. Natchitoches had witnessed many of the shops on Main Street become boarded up and the farms around the area struggle from a prolonged drought that appeared would never end. The streets, however, were crowded with fresh faces from different parts of the state, searching for work in hopes of feeding themselves and their families.
The town had seen its share of hunger, dryness, and gossip but there were murmurs that it couldn’t survive this. Their main street was something from a storybook, even during their most troublesome times. The little-used road was tiled with red bricks and most of the locals still relied on a horse and carriage to go from place to place. During the Christmas celebration, they would hold a great festival downtown, looking out over the old Cane River Lake, to remember the mighty river that once ran through it.
The general store, founded in 1863, named The Lars-Kenobi Mercantile, was the earliest established General Store in Louisiana, hell, it was the oldest in the Louisiana Purchase territory, according to its current owner, Cletus Lars Jr. The Mercantile had been founded by Lafayette Kenobi numerous moons ago, who wedded a dainty woman by the name of Janette Lars. It was said that various men could strike a bargain with old Lafayette, but they all disappointed in comparison to Janette's. She not only bartered for his heart but insisted that her family name was included in their family business. There were many stories of her blazing red mane, and most speculated that she was more Scottish than French, and Lafayette wasn’t one to stir up her ire by asking.
Upon the dusty steps of that Mercantile was a youthful fellow, his hair a ginger blond that only changed with more time in the summer sun. His broom was going back and forth over the porch, keeping the same spot clean. The boy wasn’t truly paying attention to his chores,because his head, just like at most moments, was in the clouds. The swish of the bristles and the faint melody of something in the distance were all he could detect. Young Benjamin, although he preferred to be called Ben, peered up from his daydream and stared down the street. His eyes squinted to make out a group of large wagons approaching the cobbled road. The music that he heard was familiar, and it reminded him of a few years back when he was just a child and the circus had passed through town.
The last time the circus had been there, the only thing that Ben dreamed of was getting away from his family and the mercantile business, hoping to go northeast to college. He had the grades and the drive, but since the crash of the stock market, well, his dreams had been put on hold to help out his father. Another year, just another year, were the words that Ben’s father kept whispering. Ben would be the first to tell you just how long that year would be, especially with hidden secrets. Ben was rattled from his plans as the parade inched closer to the shop. There were two wagons full of performers, such as animal trainers, tightrope walkers, and trapeze artists. Standing up on the worn bench inside the lead wagon, the ringmaster held tightly to a megaphone. The man was tall in stature, chest puffed out like that of a peacock as he projected his voice for all to hear. “Come one, come all, see all the sights of the Jedhan Circus. Forget about your problems for a few hours, and show your children what it means to dream again!”
There was murmuring everywhere around young Benjamin, as he leaned on the broom, watching the modest show pass him by. Between the two wagons was a large elephant with a small demure woman riding upon its back in nothing more than a small bikini covered in jewels. Around the elephant the clowns swayed to the music, going about to offer flyers and free tickets to the smallest of their audience. The Ringmaster then cleared his throat, pulling a bulky man closer to him.
Ben was about to return to his work when the ringmaster announced a new addition to the Jedhan Circus family, the amazing Jinninni! Ben twisted, curious as to what and who this man was, only to meet midnight blue eyes that made him swallow hard. A shirtless man stood before him with tanned skin and bulging muscles - it was as if the powerful creature had climbed right out of Ben's dreams.
“Come and meet the Amazing Jinninni, straight from Ireland, a blacksmith’s son that can best any man, make any woman swoon, and even move this here elephant! Get your tickets and join the strongman at the big tent for two nights only!”
Jinn waved to the crowds, his lips upturned barely into a smirk; his eyes, however, fell upon the lad with auburn hair and emerald eyes. Quinn Jinninni had recently immigrated from his home in Ireland after the last of his family had passed away. His people had always been in the blacksmithing business, but Quinn craved more, he wanted a place to belong. A community where he could be himself. After stumbling with blacksmithing work in upstate New York, the circus had come into the town. Quinn had enjoyed hardly a few hours around the merry men and women of the Jedhan Circus and he knew he had found a home, a place where he wouldn’t be deemed a freak. They accepted him for who he was and never treated him differently, so it was a nice place to belong.
Quinn couldn’t help but gleam at the young man at the entrance of the local Mercantile, only to watch an older man stomp in front of him and grab him by the ear. The older man yelled something he couldn’t quite make out over the music and shouting, but he didn't seem pleased. His eyes quickly fell to the ground as the ringmaster pulled his hand and raised it high. “ Come test your strength!” The older men of the town groaned, almost thumping their own chests in victory. They would indeed have a few suckers in the next two nights. However, Quinn couldn’t help but glimpse back at the Mercantile porch, following the shapely backside of the boy that had stood there moments before.
“Put it away, Quinn, save the eyes for the womenfolk.” The Ringmaster, Mr. Windu, mumbled under his breath.
“Whatever you say, Mace. Whatever you say.” Quinn winked and leaned back into a full-bellied laugh, pulling up large weights to finish the push.
The parade proceeded to pass, as Ben shifted to take one quick glance towards the Irish strong man. “Git yer head out of the clouds! I expect you to cover for yer younger brother Owen tonight. Clean up the deck, and clean more than just the one spot!” Cletus couldn’t help the sigh that escaped his lips. “Your mother has been gone for two years now, so I need you, Ben.” They weren’t going to have this conversation again, this same tired conversation that included Ben courting a local girl who could help out the business.
“Fine, Poppa, I will take care of the shop.” Ben promptly took the keys from the older man’s hands and watched him slump. “Go home and rest. I will be home later.” They both knew what those words meant, but neither wanted to argue yet again over the same words. As Cletus walked down onto the brick road, he glanced back and began to open his mouth. “The answer is no, Benjamin Lars. You stay away from those folk. I will not have you tainting our good name!”
Without even acknowledging the words, the boy turned and closed the shop door. He was so tired of the same life, the same people. He was expected to settle down and give up college for a local girl and a family. It wasn’t something he yearned for, although he wanted a family, but not in that way and not now. He would close the shop, and do his family duty, but he would find his way to the circus and see if he could defeat the strongman.
Ben stepped into the shop, his head still lost in the clouds and the entrancing pair of midnight blue eyes. “Always stuck in some dream, eh, Benny?”
The harsh accent shook the boy from his fantasies and right into the path of Bruck, the Bully, Chun. Over the years, for a reason no one knew, Bruck enjoyed making his life miserable. “What do you want, Bruck? I don’t have time for this tonight.” Throwing the broom into the closet and slamming it somewhat for effect, Ben turned toward Bruck and his hooligans, watching the other two boys moving to swipe some black licorice. “Really, what are you guys, two years old? Nothing better to do than try to steal candy?”
Bruck snapped, clutching Ben by the collar. “We have better things to do, alright. Gonna go have some fun with those circus freaks.” The harsh words boiled Ben’s blood, but he knew that the last thing he could afford was to piss off the Chuns. His father had been pushing for the butcher’s family to merge with theirs, a marriage of convenience that would add the butcher to the General Mercantile. Bruck’s younger sister, Tally, was the subject of their arranged marriage. She wasn’t hard to look at, with long brown hair and hazel eyes to match, she was beautiful in her own way. However, not what Ben wanted from his life, since she was not the right, dare he even think it, gender.
“Lost in that head of yours again, Benny? I don’t know what our fathers see in you. You don’t deserve my sister or our business!” Leave it to Bruck to pretend to love his family and protect his sister, when they all knew he was just rotten to the core. “I will see that my father changes his mind, taking your family along with you.” Holding Ben by the collar, Bruck’s fist tightened as he pulled it back and let the young man have it. “You are worthless!” Another hit, and another, the two boys coming back from the candy dishes to hold him down.
“Beat it out of him, Bruck!”
“Your brother…sends his regards.”
"What do you mean, Owen wouldn't..." Ben was smacked again, his lip splitting with the force of the blow.
Just as Bruck was bringing his hand backward to land another hit, a large fist clenched his, preventing the blow from happening. “What?!”
The Irish brogue permeated the shop, “Three on one doesn’t seem like proper odds, aye, laddie?” Ben felt horror as he looked up into the fierce eyes of the strongman. Bruck turned, trying to free his hand, only to twist his wrist and clench his jaw in pain. “Oh, could it be that you have rethought your stance and will leave the boy alone?”
Ben winced at the words because he wasn’t a boy that required rescuing. He knew he still had the face of a teenager but was twenty years old, thank you very much. “Oh, the freaks are here to save you, Benny Boy! Oh, how precious.” The other two boys jumped the stranger from behind, only to fall to the floor with a thud as the larger man had flipped them to the ground.
“Ow! Hmph!” The two boys collapsed on top of each other, simply for Bruck to be flung on the pile for good measure.
“Are you okay?” The large callused hand was held out, in an offer of friendship. Ben could only sit on the floor and gaze up, fuming that he once again was on the wrong end of Bruck Chun’s teasing.
“M’fine.” Ben jostled the hand out of the way as he pulled himself up, brushing the dirt off his old work pants. “I didn’t need any help. This will only make matters worse.”
“I’m sure you had the situation totally in control. I’m sorry if my help was undesired, but I was hoping you might have some tobacco in stock. Mace is a crab without it, and he ran out along the Louisiana/Arkansas border.” Quinn couldn’t help but give the young man a sly smile, pulling his hand back to withdraw the offer of help.
“Yeah, it’s over there,” Ben knew he wasn’t being rational, but Bruck just had a way of getting to him. “Please hurry it up, since I’m ready to close up the shop.” Bruck and company pushed themselves up, staring at Ben and the other man before snarling and retreating outside.
“This isn’t over, Benny,” Bruck yelled back.
“I’m sorry if I made it worse. I was honestly just trying to help.” The older man bowed his head and left a few coins on the counter, along with a small piece of paper. “See you around, lad.” Just as quickly as the man had entered, he was gone. Ben had no idea what to think. He felt like a heel for treating the man so poorly, but Bruck riled him like no one else in the world could.
The room was growing dark as the sun started to set, shadows pushing out the last of the light in the room. Ben lit a few candles, sighing to himself as he began to close up the shop. He moved to the counter to place the money in the register, only to smile at the small ticket stub on top. It was a free entrance into the big top. To the left, he heard the small whine of Artoo, his hunting dog, as he curled up close to the unlit fireplace. “I know- I shouldn’t go.” Long fingers ran over the russet fur, smiling as the dog started to kick its back leg in happiness. “But we both know I don’t listen.” Grabbing the ticket and the keys to the store, Ben quickly locked the door behind him. There was a kick in his step as he walked out of town, in search of the tall man, with the beautiful blue eyes and the captivating voice. This might not be his happily ever after, but perhaps it was the beginning of something...different.