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The Stokes-Croft Fayre was… certainly something to behold, Grinpayne would grant them that.
Grinpayne had crossed paths with some truly awful freak shows in the past, despite Ursus’ best effort to keep him out of sight of such things.
“Bloodsuckers,” he had explained. “They scrape the desperate out of the gutter and make them dance for their supper.”
In particular, Grinpayne recalled a sideshow by a man called Mister Sampson, a truly awful fixture. The man had offered to buy the then twelve-year-old Grinpayne off of Ursus, having gravely misunderstood the nature of their relationship. He was soon corrected.
However, he had to admit that the Stokes-Croft Fayre did not reflect the horrors he had learned to expect of such shows. For one thing, there didn’t seem to be any one person in charge, nobody cracking the proverbial whip. Osric appeared to be the manager, so-to-speak, but being as he was a performer himself with that shrunken hand of his, he didn’t seem to be taking significantly more money than anyone else.
He found himself growing less and less opposed to the Fayre as a whole. And, maybe, possibly, more and more, open to considering Osric's offer of becoming a fixture.
He kept his thoughts to himself. Ursus had made it clear that he was not open to that consideration. He walked around with his arms crossed, eyeing up everything like he was expecting them to jump out and snatch his children away. He softened, only a little, at the sight of young Dea's enjoyment of the Fayre; it wasn't like they often had the money to be on this side of entertainment. Bar this, he was rock solid in his dismissal.
"We should never have come here in the first place," he grumbled to Grinpayne while Dea was off listening to a story about a pickled horse. "This was a bad idea, boy."
Grinpayne said nothing.
The level of showmanship on display was impressive, even if most of it seemed to skew towards cruelty. Such was the way with entertainment. There was a reason their most popular puppet shows involved puppets hitting each other and someone dying horribly at the end.
When it came time to meet with Osric, it was growing dark. Dea clung to Grinpayne's arm more now that her initial excitement had worn off. He almost would have preferred that she went home before they talked business, but it was too late to take her back now and no one to watch her besides, so she came into Osric's caravan with him and Ursus.
When in the, Osric introduced them to one of the performers who went by the name Wooden Mary. Grinpayne had assumed that her frozen facial expression had been simply part of the act, but it became clear very quickly that it was a permanent affliction. Oddly, Grinpayne found himself comforted to be in the presence of someone who was also afflicted in the face as he was.
Osric brewed them up some tea and Ursus declined a cup.
"So, you haven't told me what you think of the Fayre! I trust you had a good ol' nose around?"
"It's wonderful!" Dea exclaimed, much to Ursus' chagrin. "I've never known anything like it. Right, Grinpayne?"
"Right..." he agreed cautiously, without looking at his father. "It truly isn't what I expected it to be."
"Right! I told you, we ain't no nonsense merchants. Eh, Mary?"
"Well, I'm sure it's very easy to say that..." Ursus interrupted. "What was that you called yourself on stage? 'Osric the Freak Wrangler'?"
"Oh that's just for the show, innit? Like I said before, the punters are always more comfortable if they think of us all like some package deal. Like we've been put there for them to stare at. Safer - and mre profitable."
That... made him a little uneasy. Enough people already treated him like he'd been put on Earth for them to stare at.
"You say that like it's a good thing," said Ursus, giving a voice to Grinpayne's own thoughts.
"Like I said, safer and more profitable. Most of these folks are here because ain't nobody giving them work anywhere else." Mary nodded enthusiastically, her expression effortlessly stoic. "If they perform with us, it's to keep money in their pockets. The only way to do that is to keep the gawpers coming in with their coin."
"Fact is it's better than nothing," Mary added, more to Osric than them; this seemed to be an extension of an ongoing conversation.
Ursus looked them up and down.
"And how do you put money in your pockets, Mister Freak Wrangler?"
Osric, up to now chipper in the face of Ursus' doubts, seemed to take some offense to that. Grinpayne couldn't help but shrink back a little.
"Same as everyone else. I’ve got littluns to feed as well. Everyone keeps the profits of their own bit, minus ten percent to the Fayre as a whole - and yes that puts food on my table, but honestly you'd be surprised how much of it goes to renting fields and parks. Gotta have the right location to make any kind of money."
Ursus knew that well, except that they rarely had the money for the right location. Often saving their money to rent a market spot in peak season and squeezing themselves in where they could for free the rest of the year. Even then, they'd been moved on more times than they could count. Grinpayne knew that the setup was looking more appealing to Ursus, even if he didn't want to admit it.
"And you all travel together?"
"Pretty much," Osric shrugged.
"Though people split off and do their own thing all the time," Mary added. "Especially in the off seasons." Then, she added. "Not Osric here of course, but the rest of us do."
They laughed.
"Right you are. The Fayre's a difficult mistress who keeps me from straying, but, yes, no one's stopping you leaving."
Ursus sat quietly, probably deciding how much he trusted what he was hearing.
Dea pressed her hand against Grinpayne's arm. He thought maybe she had finally grown tired, but she squeezed his hand as if to ask if he was okay. He squeezed hers back to confirm that he was before returning his hand to his tea (which he hadn't drunk, because he didn't like drinking or eating in front of strangers; he didn't like how they tended to either stare or look on in disgust).
"You've been quiet, Grinpayne. What do you think?" Osric asked.
Suddenly, all eyes in the room (bar Dea's) were on him. He fidgeted.
"Um..." he looked down at his tea, struggling to find the words. "Like I said… it wasn't as I expected…"
Ursus sighed.
"Listen. It's getting late. Let me take these two home and we'll come back to you with an answer before you leave."
"Well, you'd best be soon with it. We leave on the thirtieth."
"Right, right..."
They gathered themselves to leave. Just as they did, Dea asked Mary if she could go inside her tent again where she hadn't been able to before with so many people blocking her movement. Ursus was blatantly frustrated by this revelation, but he was never very good at saying no to Dea so he insisted on going with them.
"Don't go far," he ordered Grinpayne, who resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the command. Nonetheless, he stayed put in the darkening carnival, awaiting their return.
He was so lost in his thoughts that he jumped when Osric approached him.
"Woah! Easy!"
"Sorry," Grinpayne replied, shaking his head vigorously. "Is everything alright?"
"Just thought I'd check in with you. Your old man did most of the talking in there, didn't he?"
"He did."
"Well, you must be, what seventeen? Eighteen? I figured it was more your decision than-"
"I'm fifteen, mister."
"Really!" Osric asked, looking him up and down.
"I get that a lot. I'm quite tall for my age."
"Quite! Yeah."
"Anyway, it would be all of our decision, if you don’t mind me saying. I'm not planning on leaving my family."
"As right you shouldn't," he agreed. "Listen, logistics aside, how do you feel about the whole thing? I mean, you're already a performer, I saw your puppet show. Good stuff, good stuff. I really do think you'd do well here."
Grinpayne didn't say anything for a moment. Frankly, Osric was probably right. They were in a relatively small town, but even here the fayre was clearly a hit. Joining up would mean a ready made audience and an easier life. He and Dea could still perform their puppet shows, Ursus could sell his wares, and if it were only those two things they need do to pay their way here they would be all set. But that was not the case.
Grinpayne did not like people seeing his face. He didn't take his mask off outside the cart unless he could guarantee privacy. Even when he ate or drank, he did so facing away from his family, because he didn't even like Ursus seeing his face any more often than he had to. Dea was the only person who was comfortable baring his disfigurement to and only because she couldn't actually see it. The very last thing he wanted was to stand in front of a horrified audience. He didn't like having to hide, but he had no choice. And he wanted to exhibit himself even less.
"Okay, okay," Osric continued, apparently taking Grinpayne's silence as unease. "Listen, I'm not gonna force you. I've said that already. But I KNOW what it's like to stare at, laughed at. I was born with this thing," he waved his shrunken arm about, "I get it. I do. But here's the thing. I can see you've been hiding, for a long time, right?"
"Right," he nodded warily.
"Let me guess: It doesn't work, eh? People still see you. They still stare. They still laugh. Sometimes, I bet they even get angry, right? Or just plain scared?"
Grinpayne nodded with more certainty.
"Well, fuck it. If they're gonna stare at you anyway, you might as well charge them admission. Yeah?"
He blinked at the older man. For the first time, it occurred to him that Osric didn't see his exhibition as a humiliation.
"Grinpayne?" The fayre was well and truly dark now, most of the lights coming through windows from within the caravans, but he could see Ursus and Dea standing down the muddy path. The older man stood tense, his eyes hard on them.
"Coming!" He called back.
"I'll see you around, yeah?"
Grinpayne desperately wanted to ask Osric about what he had said, but knew that he didn't have time, not right now.
"Yes. Thank you for inviting us, mister."
"Thanks yourself," said Osric, waving him off.
It was extremely late by the time they had dinner, which ended up being watered porridge, as it had been more and more it seemed. Dea nearly fell asleep in her bowl. Grinpayne couldn't blame her, he rather felt like doing the same thing. The whole way home and the whole way through dinner, Ursus kept throwing these looks over at Grinpayne like he thought the boy might disappear. It was like he was trying to read Grinpayne’s very thoughts. Unfortunately for Grinpayne, even HE didn't know what he was thinking. His mind reeled from his conversation with Osric and all he had seen at the fair.
So distracted was he that he didn't notice the growing pain moving up his spine and into his shoulders, until his arm began to spasm, nearly causing him to damn near throw his bowl across the room.
"You need some Crimson Lethe, boy." It was a proclamation, not a question.
"Yes, I know," he snapped back. He hated the way Ursus said that as if it was his fault. "I'll take it after din-"
But then his arm decided to spasm again, requiring him to slam his bowl on the table before he dropped it entirely, which caused him to spill most of what was left.
"Damn it..."
Urus looked like he was about to scold Grinpayne for swearing, in front of Dea no less, but he must have been tired too, because instead he simply sighed and handed Grinpayne his medicine, before slipping away to find a cleaning cloth.
The next morning Ursus left early to talk to a friend in town about a sale, so Grinpayne made tea for himself and Dea, hoping that it might quell Dea's hunger and mimic a decent breakfast.
"So, what did you think of the fair last night?" He asked her over, as they sat together on the boards of the Green Box.
"It was wonderful! Wasn't it?" She enthused. His face softened. He couldn't help, but get caught up in her nine-year-old excitement. "Mary was really nice. She seemed scary at first, like on stage, but she was very friendly. She showed me all over her tent. She had some proper soft shawl, like ladies wear!"
"Did she now?"
"Why didn't you come with us? You could have seen it too."
"I was talking to Mister Osric."
"The man father was shouting at?"
"Yes," he laughed.
"What did he say?"
"Well..." he considered how much he should tell her. He didn't like lying to her, she wasn't stupid after all, but he wasn't sure how much she understood of the situation and the choice which was to be made. "He thought I was a grown-up, which was very funny."
"But you ARE a grown-up now."
"Am not!" He said with dramatic flair. "I mean, he thought I was a proper grown-up. Like father."
Dea laughed. In her mind, Ursus was ancient; neither of them would ever be his age.
"So, are we moving to the faire?"
Okay, so she did understand what was going on.
"Has father said anything to you about it?"
"No. He won't tell me anything."
"Well, I don't know."
"When will you know?"
"Do YOU think we should move to the faire?"
Her face scrunched up in very serious concentration.
"Would we get to keep the green box?" She asked.
Grinpayne laughed.
"Of course, we would!"
"And could we keep Mojo?" She seemed more distressed at this question.
"Oh course, of course! We wouldn't dare go anywhere without Mojo. I think father would sooner leave us behind than Mojo."
"That's not true! Father wouldn't leave us behind."
"You're right as usual, Dea," he nodded. "So, we can keep the green box and Mojo isn't going anywhere. Do you want to join the faire?"
"I think it would be a lot of fun! There's loads of people there, so maybe we wouldn't have to eat porridge as often. And you and father wouldn't worry so much about money all the time."
"I don't worry about money all the time."
"You do too. It's why you don't take your medicine when you should."
That was far from the only reason he didn't take his medicine when he should, but he was consistently surprised at how perspective she was when she wanted to be. He was fairly certain even Ursus hadn’t caught onto such things.
"Grinpayne?"
"Yes."
"Could we still do our puppet shows if we move to the faire? Or would you have to perform all on your own?"
She sounded so sad when she said this that it broke Grinpayne's heart.
"Of course, we'd still do our puppet shows. How could I possibly go up on stage without my performance partner?"
He snapped his fingers.
"In fact, we could use the puppets in the performance. What a good idea, Dea!"
"It was your idea."
"Okay, it's both of our idea, then."
Of course! The show only required him to show his face to really qualify for the kind of thing Osric expected of him. There was no reason they couldn't incorporate other elements, such as the puppets. Frankly, the idea of going up on stage with Dea at his side sounded a hundred times less frightening than what he had imagined in his head.
"We need only come up with a story to fit..."
Ursus returned home that afternoon, Mojo at his side, to find Grinpayne and Dea deeply invested in the puppets and set. He had to admit, it softened his heart to see them like this. They were never happier than when they were working on their show. It was why he allowed them to go out and perform in the first place. He was proud to say that they were both wonderful natural storytellers and performance was clearly their element. He almost didn't want to interrupt them when they were clearly in the flow, but he could hardly stand here hidden forever.
"So, what are we performing today?" He called out, making both of them raise their heads from behind the set.
"Beauty and the Beast, father," came Grinpayne's voice, sounding younger than he had for a while (and not just since his voice broke).
He cringed a little inwardly. He'd always felt... uneasy telling them that one. They clearly connected to it a great deal. But their reasons for connecting to it, especially Grinpayne's, made him uncomfortable. Having said that, it WAS one of their favourites and he could hardly stop them...
"You must have done that one to death," he laughed, hanging his coat inside the cart and returning outside to investigate the fine mess they had made of their grassy rehearsal space.
"It's for the Grinning Boy performance!" Dea called out in a cheerful tone.
Ursus' stomach dropped. Grinpayne suddenly began looking at anything but him.
"The Grinning Boy, eh? Who would that be?"
"We're just throwing some ideas about," Grinpayne backtracked. "We can't hardly decide unless we know what kind of show we'd be doing."
Ursus remained silent a moment, concentrating on some puppets left on the side. In truth, he wasn't sure how he felt about that 'we'. On the one hand, of course he would be a part of the show if they did join the fayre; he would hardly throw the poor boy out in front of a jeering crowd all on his own, but he didn't like the idea of young Dea being involved. Though, to be fair, he didn't even want Grinpayne involved and it should have occurred to him that the two would insist on performing as a package deal, as they had always done.
"You should call it the Grinning Man," he grumbled, eyes on the puppets.
"Oh?" Questioned Grinpayne, gingerly.
"You're so tall since you shot up, you look grown already. And looks are what matter onstage..." In fact, it seemed like only this morning Grinpayne had been a little boy following him quietly around the markets, Dea bundled up in his little arms. "Besides, it'd save you rebranding in a couple years time."
Grinpayne's face softened a little, looking sheepishly down at the prince puppet in his hand.
Ursus kept his nose to the grindstone the rest of the day whilst rehearsals clambered on outside.
By the time he and Grinpayne had a chance to talk, they'd had dinner and Dea had gone to sleep. In truth, he'd been putting the conversation off. Him and the boy had had a habit of turning every disagreement into a stretched out argument ever since Grinpayne hit that age. Ursus knew this to be perfectly normal, he had been the same in his youth, couldn't be told a thing by his elders. Their unusual situation didn't make it any easier.
He had a feeling he knew what Grinpayne was going to say. Actually, Ursus suspected he'd known what Grinpayne was going to decide before he did. And Ursus disagreed. Sort of. Mostly. HE SHOULD disagree, it was a bad idea. It could lead the boy down a path of misery if it all went wrong. But then... the boy's path wasn't all that happy anyway, considering how he had come into the green box. And Ursus had never seen him more alive than when he and Dea were performing for a crowd.
But performing a puppet show and exhibiting oneself to the jeers of a crowd were two different things.
"So, about the fayre, the..." he began lamely.
"Yes?"
"Well, out with it, lad. What do you think?"
"I..."
It actually concerned Ursus that he was being so quiet on the subject. He didn't usually have this much of an issue telling Ursus his opinions - certainly not as of late. At least, that's what he'd thought anyway. He felt a little shameful for seemingly having made the boy feel so pressured about the whole situation. As much as Ursus would always see Grinpayne as that little boy, he would be a man sooner rather than later. He should feel able to tell Ursus what he thought on important matters such as this.
"Don't worry about what I think. Or what you think I think. What do you think, boy? After all, it's you that they want."
"That's exactly it. I can hardly expect you and Dea to change your way of living because of me. That's not up to me."
"Dea didn't seem too bothered by the idea earlier. And it's just as much up to you than any of us, eh?"
Grinpayne sighed, leaning against the outer wall of the caravan, his lanky limbs folding in on themselves in new and interesting ways.
"You tell me what you think first. Honestly."
Damn, he was hoping he wouldn't say that. But it seemed he wouldn't talk until Ursus did, and he was stubborn as anything when he wanted to be. Besides, he could see that the boy's nerves were wearing on him, even though he tried to hide it, and the last thing he wanted was to bicker with him about the wrong thing.
"I think... I think Osric seems like a respectable enough fella." Grinpayne's head snapped up. He blinked at Ursus in surprise. "I mean, the fayre seems to be legitimate enough. I think he was telling the truth when he said the performers are there by their own free will. I don't think it would be any harm on that front."
The boy seemed terribly relieved by Ursus' words. It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders... which told him everything he needed to know about what was going on in the lad's head.
"You want to go, don't you?"
"I don't know, father."
"It's okay if you do. I'm not gonna... Christ, I'm not gonna go off at you or anything, boy."
"I know that. I don't expect you to."
"Then just tell me what you're thinking."
"I'm thinking..." he stared blankly into the smoldering ashes of the fire they had lit in front of the cart. "I'm thinking that we would pretty much guarantee an audience if we joined them. We'd make a lot more regular money… possibly…”
Ursus held back a sigh. He was right, of course, and that was a consideration, but he was trying SO hard to sound like an adult instead of talking about what was important.
"And what of the performance itself?" He insisted. "None of this is even worth talking about, when you get down to it, unless you can actually imagine yourself doing that for the money. I'd still work, of course, and Dea could help. It wouldn't all be on you, but it wouldn't be the same as a puppet show-"
"I know that."
"Well, it wouldn't. Even if you incorporate it into a larger act, you'd still be putting your face in front of an audience to gawp at. Could you really live like that, boy? Could you really be happy like that?"
He could get the image out of his head of Grinpayne, standing on one of those stages at the fayre, in front of a huge ugly crowd, all alone with them jeering and shouting and laughing. He could almost see the scared look on the boy's face.Like when he was younger, he would cover his bandage with one hand, clinging to Ursus with the other, hiding behind his father's legs when the street got too busy and people began looking and whispering. The very idea made him queasy.
"I don't know father," he sighed. "I do like performing. It wouldn't be too different from what me and Dea already do."
"But it would, Grinpayne. You wouldn't be playing a character. It would just be you up there."
"Not exactly. I mean, it wouldn't really be me. It could be a... a character! Much like me, yes, but not… not me."
"Right. The Grinning Man."
"Right… like that."
"Is that really all that different? You heard what Osric said about what the people want. 'Osric the Freak Wrangler'..." he repeated bitterly.
"Well, he was right about one thing. It IS what the people want to see.”
"But is it how you want the people to see you, Grinpayne? As a freak? As some kind of a monster?"
"They might not."
"They will."
"We could- we could change the story somehow," he suggested, waving his arms around. "We could work a different angle, perhaps."
"Listen to yourself," he groaned, rubbing [that bit between your eyebrows].
"We could!"
"Don't be naïve, boy! If you're going to seriously consider this, you need to consider it seriously."
Grinpayne huffed and looked away.
"I'm simply saying..." He searched around in the air for the most gentle way he could put this. "If you go up on that stage, they're going to be paying to see a monster- Not you!" He interrupted himself as Grinpayne looked like he was about to interject in offense. "Of course, I know that that's not what you are, but they're not going to care who you are. They're paying to be scared. Look, if you think you can live like that, then by all means, we can seriously consider joining the fayre."
At this, Grinpayne looked back up at Ursus, eyes wide, body tense.
"But you need to understand that the people out there don't care about who you are as a person, they never will. They just want something to be frightened of, to stare at, to laugh at-"
"You think I don't understand that, father?!"
Ursus jumped at the sudden and unexpected rage in his son's voice.
"I understand perfectly well how they look at me. You think I don't? How can I not. Because they already do all of that. They already stare. They already laugh. They- they're already frightened of me." His voice choked up a little as he said that last part, and Ursus had to look away. "I know they are. I can see it in their eyes. I hear what they say about me. I already know. I know. I know."
They stood there in silence for a moment, while Grinpayne seemed to be trying to get a hold of himself and Ursus tried desperately to think of something he could say that wouldn't make this whole thing worse than it already was. When he did look back, Grinpayne was crouching in the grass. Ursus reached forward, concerned that maybe Grinpayne had begun hurting badly, but before he said anything, Grinpayne got back to his feet, face in his hands, and he realised that he had simply been getting a hold of himself. Ursus felt almost like he was intruding when Grinpayne got like this.
"Grinpayne, I-"
"I'm..." Grinpayne interrupted very softly. "It's just that, I've been hiding for years. We've been hiding for years," Ursus went to say something, but Grinpayne put a hand up and carried on. "And I don't mind, father. I'm not griping about it. But we've been hiding for years and it hasn't made people any less curious or afraid."
Ursus was reminded again of that little boy hiding behind him in the market, covering his little face.
"They already stare, they already laugh. What's the harm in paying our way by that?"
"You think it'll be easier than how you have it now?"
"It'll be different, at least. I can choose how and when they see it. I can... I can give it context. I can decide what the story is. Even if it's a horror story, at least it will be of my choosing."
Ursus sighed deeply, because the boy had a point. He'd always secretly hoped that the stares and the whispers didn't get to Grinpayne. Or, at the very least, that he was hardening to it. But, deep down, he'd always know that that wasn't true. And now he could not avoid the fact.
Well, he couldn’t say that the boy didn’t know his own mind.
“Well, you’re certainly right about the crowds. We wouldn’t have trouble finding an audience. The money could be good. And, I suppose, we shouldn't have to worry about being moved on.”
“Father?” Grinpayne blinked up at him again.
“Like I said, I’d still be working too. So, it wouldn’t just be you bringing bread in. And I suppose Dea will be helping with the performance - God help anyone who tries to stop her - but I’m leaving it to you to look after, eh? Make sure she’s alright up there.”
“Of course, of course!” He nodded eagerly. “Are you really alright with this?”
“Only until Summer kicks in. We’ll see how it goes. If I think it’s more worth our time to strike back out for the busy season, then it’s done.”
“Right!”
“And if any time you want to stop-”
“Yes, yes. Thank you!”
Ursus was surprised at how happy Grinpayne’s reaction was. He seemed almost relieved. He must have wanted this more than Ursus anticipated.
“Just… just be careful, my boy.”
His son looked exhausted, so he swung an arm around his shoulder and led him inside.
“Let’s get some rest, eh? Osric can wait ‘till the morning…”