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Emily, with Lavinia close behind her, ran up the dusty dirt path to their home, circus poster in hand. Excitedly calling for their father, they scrambled into his office, the sisters spoke over each other in great enthusiasm for what they were about to show off. Mr. Dickinson smiled in agreement, commenting on the excitement that was election day. The girls' joy wavered, why on earth would they be excited about an election when they were not allowed to vote? Ben stifled a laugh, paying close attention to the poster Emily presented.
Amherst! Prepare to be Dazzled! The red accented poster exclaimed, showcasing art of lions, acrobats and strongmen, the big tent was being set up as they spoke. Lavinia hooked her arm with Emily’s to simulate the appearance of such mystifying siamese twins as she asked their father if they could attend.
Depraved, he called it. He dismissed the circus as a den of degeneracy, almost uttering the word “harlot” before thinking better of it and ultimately telling the girls they were not to attend. Lavinia stopped gesturing to mimic the elegance of an acrobat and locked eyes to their brother Austin, who was lounging on an overstuffed chair, fiddling with his cravat.
“What if Austin took us?” She suggested.
“What?” Austin and Emily groaned simultaneously. “No way.”
Elbowing her sister, Lavinia leaned closer and hissed. “Sue would come, wouldn’t she?”
Eyes widening for a moment and a smile spreading across her face, Emily nodded. “Wait, yes, exactly.” She pointed to Austin. “Sue and Austin can come with us and you know, keep us in line.”
Mr. Dickinson looked to his son, mind reeling on the possibility. He turned back to his daughters right when Ithimar rushed into the office, his voice low with urgency. Mr. Dickinson switched gears back to the election, and suggested he and Ithimar perambulate in discussion of the election and the supposed ever-growing winning status of the Know-Nothing party. As they went, closely followed by Mrs. Dickinson, Emily called out to them, asking one more time if they could go to the circus.
“Fine,” Mr. Dickinson said firmly. “But Austin must be with you at all times.”
Bright grins on their faces, the girls hopped on one foot to the other, almost delirious in their joy. Their happiness spread to Ben and Austin, and even to Sue when she came into the room as Emily thrust the poster into her chest. Their childlike joy clashed against the simmering uneasiness that stemmed within Mr. Dickinson and Ithimar, but nothing about that blasted election could take away the delight in Emily’s heart.
~~~
As the sun descended under the horizon, a honey glow shone across the circus grounds as Sue and the Dickinson siblings approached, huddled in their coats and scarves against the chilly evening air.
Wooden posts strung with warm lantern lights paved their way around a city of tents striped a dingy ivory and crimson. Music danced around them as they turned their heads every which way in awe; stiltwalkers towered above them, one young woman standing tall on stilts painted with vines and flowers leaned down to hand Emily a rose with a wink. Sue pursed her lips, and tilted her head in a hint of jealousy. The scent of popcorn drifted through the air, Austin let go of Sue’s hand for a moment as the stalls selling food pulled him closer, he absently waved his hand, saying that he would be right back. Lavinia caught sight of Joseph Lyman leaning against a wooden game booth, trying to make conversation with a carnie whose eyes were so tired he could sleep as long as Rip Van Winkle. Part of her was pulled to him, but with Emily’s arm still hooked with hers, she was pulled back, and her sister whispered to her that he was not worth it. But who was truly worth it to Lavinia was Jane Humphrey, who stood at a vibrant booth of candy alongside her usual entourage of Abby, Abiah, and Toshiaki. As they traversed the grounds Lavinia gazed at Jane, her eyes always half-lidded, she adored the way her jaw curved to her slender neck. She jerked her arm away from Emily, and wandered over to Jane as if she were a lost puppy.
Sue and Emily were left together in the middle of the grounds, certain that the dazzled locals would not notice them, they laced their fingers together. Emily periodically glanced behind them as the two snuck to a dimly lit clearing behind a closed game booth. Taking one more look around to make sure they would not be found, her eyes caught George standing by a booth, he almost dropped his bag of peanuts when he tried to wave at her from across the crowds, but just as soon as they had seen each other, she was out of sight. Her worries were halted when Sue pressed a hand to her face, thumb caressing her cheek. Emily closed her eyes, savoring the moment. She pressed her lips against the poet’s, wondering for a moment how long they could still get away with this. The cacophony of children’s laughter and music melted away as they were in each other’s embrace, Emily wrapped her arms around Sue, holding her close.
A boisterous voice broke their calming moment, calling their attention to the big top as the show was about to begin.
Brass horns blared to the rhythmic beat of a bass drum as Emily and Sue sidled into their seats on one side of the tent. Soon Austin found them, his arms full with bags of popcorn and peanuts, cones of cotton candy and taffy. He lumbered in between the seats, plonking down next to Sue and handing her a bag of popcorn to hand down their line. Lavinia had somehow convinced Jane and her entourage to join them, and with a delighted smile she sat between her sister and Jane.
The ringleader stood tall on a podium, a curly mustache on his smiling face. His top hat sat upon his head at a jaunty angle, the gold accents on his crimson coat glittered under the spotlight. With a deep charming voice he welcomed the town of Amherst, and with a snap of his whip the greatest show began.
Purposefully clumsy clowns warmed the crowd to roars of laughter, so much so that Austin had carelessly let his popcorn pour out all over Sue. With an annoyed groan, her demeanor soured as she swiped the popcorn off of her. Lavinia admired the strongman as he bent a horseshoe and handed it to her as a gift. Throughout the show Lavinia offered snacks to Jane, to which she held up her hand in polite decline.
Upon the trapeze were the most stunning athletes one could find anywhere. Each of them dressed in sequins, reflecting the light as if drawn to them, as if it took the same delight as the dawn does in igniting colours to the morning sky. Emily’s eyes fixated on a particular woman whose body was decorated with elaborate tattoos, vines of ink crawled over her skin, moving with such a natural fluidity. She made it seem that humans were born to fly, born to do so much more than most believe. It felt as if she was only performing for her, as the woman seemed to have locked eyes with Emily as she flew through the air. Her eyes glittered as she watched, flattered by the attention of someone so beautiful and bright.
“I’ve known a heaven, like a tent…” She murmured to herself. “Oh, I have to write that down.” She scrambled for the pencil and parchment in her inner sweater pocket, one that she had asked Betty to sew in for her.
As she scratched her words down, Sue glanced at her in mild disbelief that even now her poet was writing. Her determination impressed her, and as the show ended with a standing ovation Sue could not help but feel almost jealous of her talent to bring anything into poetry.
Even after, when the inky black sky was dotted with brilliant stars, and the girls listening intently as Austin spoke of constellations and the myths behind each one. Their eyes tilted up to the heavens, they paid no attention to the path before them as they walked. Years of walking those dusty paths were instinctual to them, never they tripped over a misplaced rock or fallen branch. With childlike wonderment in their hearts, the thoughts of the election were far gone from their minds. Austin did not even notice that he had lost his ribbon in support the Whigs on the trail behind them.
As they quietly entered their darkened silent home, they did not notice their father sitting in the dark, his head hung low in defeat. They all gathered in Emily’s room, not wanting their fun to end. Austin marched around, mimicking the strongman’s exaggerated flexing, much to the laughter of Sue and Lavinia. Emily sat at her desk, smiling along with them, but still she was much too wrapped up in her poem to pay much attention.
When it was finally time for them to all rest, and Austin and Lavinia left Sue and Emily to their beds, a fervent knock echoed through the house. Mr. Dickinson opened it to find Ithimar shoving a freshly printed newspaper into his chest, informing him with great enthusiasm that he had won. His shoulders relaxed, a smile spread across his face and for a moment he knew the same joy his kids had felt at the circus.
~~~
Days later in the early morning as Emily was tasked to retrieve buckets of water, she took a walk to the clearing where the circus once was. No trace, no figment of the thing that had dazzled yesterday. The sun bloomed on the horizon, golden petals stretching ever outwards into the rich blue sky, the dew on the emerald grass cooled her bare ankles. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the crisp early morning air.
On her way home, she filled the buckets to the brim and carefully carried them home. And for once her mother was proud of her, but her praise did not matter for the circus was the only place where she felt as though she belonged. Now that the circus was gone, no ring, no marvel, men and feats were dissolved as utterly as bird’s far navigation, her happiness was stolen from the air.
Or perhaps, it was not. As she slipped away from the house she found Sue sitting in the white wood gazebo right outside.
“Hey,” She said quietly, curling up next to her.
Sue set down her book, leaning her head on Emily’s shoulder. “I wish we could return to the circus.”
“We could.” Emily said. Sue picked up her head and looked at her curiously, she continued. “I’m a freak, you’re an orphan, we’d fit right in.”
She smacked the poet’s arm perhaps a bit harder than she ought to have. “You are not a freak.”
“Yes, I am.” She said quietly, surprised the smack was not in response to the orphan comment.
“Well, then I am too.”
“You?”
“Just like you said Emily, I’m an orphan.” The crack in Sue’s voice broke her heart, and she took her hand. Head pressed to her shoulder, she took in the scent of her perfume, the lavender scent of her poet.
Emily opened her eyes and caught the sight of Lavinia staring at her from the living room window. Her sister teased her with exaggerated kissing faces, the poet moved her fingers so that the hand pressed against Sue’s back flipped her off. Lavinia grimaced and shut the heavy curtains; toying with the hem of them, she wondered if Jane could ever feel the same way about her as Sue felt about Emily. She shook the thought from her head and went on with her chores, looking forward to their annual Christmas dinner where she was sure Jane would be.
Nights ago in the funhouse, the mirrors had made her and Sue’s bodies look so strange, the snakeman in a dark tent alarmed her to where she ran into the poet’s arms. She had fallen in love long before the circus came to town, in secret she held the hand of the only one she truly loved. The sight of Emily under the warm glow of the lights fit her so well, as if the poet had always belonged under the shimmer of the light.
One day, she was sure, the circus would return, and when it did she swore to herself she would wake Emily and send her off to better lands. Her poet would become a silhouette, as if she had walked from a photograph and left behind a blank dark space. The ache would come and go, but just as long she knew Emily was in a place where her talents would be recognized, where she was praised like she deserved, she knew in the chambers of her heart that she would love her no matter where she was in the world.
Sue pressed a desperate kiss to Emily’s lips as if she were to be gone tomorrow. Like the circus she would be gone as quickly as she had come, leaving only a lingering scent of lavender alongside the echo of her voice.