I’m flying through the air as the calliope music plays. And soon Peti has a firm grip on my ankles. I’m dangling upside down with my toes pointed and my arms outstretched. This, this I could do in my sleep. I’ve known no other life, no other means of food, survival, small pocket change.

Our act ends, and we descend with grace from the high wooden balconies, doing flips to land onto the nets below. With one large sweeping motion, we bow to the many standing people filling the bleachers and leap onto the dirt ground before disappearing behind the red and yellow striped curtain at the back of the tent.

A few ‘good jobs’ are exchanged, meaningless required comments, while we’re pushed to the back by the next group of performers anxious to go on. I brush my red hair behind my ear, where it doesn’t stay, and exchange glances with Peti. We nod at each other, then go our separate ways to find our way back to the train. It’s around here somewhere, I just got so turned around during performances.

An hour or so later, the show has ended, and the tent has become a flurry of workers and performers milling about, packing up, taking the big top down. I duck out of the way to try and find Barney. Barney was the ring leader, organiser, and all around head honcho of Farrel’s most spectacular show on Earth. He always had reminded me of the man on the Pringles can with his ridiculous moustache and small eyes. Add a top hat, and that’s Barney.

I needed to ask him something. I had been wanting to do another act for such a long time, but there was never a spare moment for me to ask him, let alone show him I could do it. I could manage tons of things, but nobody ever bothered to listen to me. I was the lone sixteen year old girl who the circus just happened to pick up while stopping by the outskirts of Liverpool. I was too fragile to do big acts, but too good to be kept spinning hula hoops in the outer ring. People were just too careful around me, and it bugged me. It bugged me a lot. The only person who understood me was Peti.

Peti had been my best friend for as long as I could remember.

Which wasn’t a long time. I’ll explain that later.

But he had always been there to listen, to nod, to punch me when I acted like an idiot, to pat me on the back when I was upset. He didn’t treat me like everyone else, like the fragile toothpick that could break. Nobody understood how strong I was, how many push ups I did each night. I was just the poster girl with pretty red hair for the circus.

Back to my memory. He had been my friend for as long as I could remember. Which was about four years. Nothing before my twelfth birthday remained in my mind. I had no memory other than the circus, other than being twelve until I turned 16, or right now. It’s like there was a huge chunk of my life missing. I didn’t like to think of it a lot, but it was always there, nagging at the back of my mind when I was in the middle of the air in the trapeze act with Peti. Peti, who was the only person I had ever told about this memory problem. I had always attributed it to falling off the trapeze too many times when I was younger and getting better at it.

“Hey, you okay? You look dazed, love,” Peti elbowed me as he appeared beside me again. I nodded.

“Great. Have you seen Barney?” I asked, immediately watching Peti’s face fall.

“Oh no, don’t, Iz-” He began.

“Why? I’m getting bored with just trapeze. I’ve been good at ribbons for a while, and we’ve never had a ribbon-”

“He won’t want to do it again, Izzy! Stop asking him…” his voice trailed off as he recognized the confused look on my face, and he instantly backpedaled, stuttering: “Well, you don’t-I…”

“I’ve never asked him before, Peti.” He shook his head in agreement.

“I know, I’m sorry, I just meant-”

But I had already turned around to find Barney.

“Izzy, come back here!” But I’m already lost in the throng of hurried circus performers with just one goal in mind: to find Barney.

* *

And find him I did. He was sitting in the booth where we sold tickets, counting the money with the other bigwigs of the business. I walked up to the small tent and cleared my throat. He didn’t look up.

“Barney? Um, can I speak with you about an act?” I said timidly.

“Didn’t I tell you, don’t ask me aga-” He began to yell before looking up, then faltered. “Oh. Izzy. Sorry. What?”

“I wanted to do a new act. With the ribbons.” I decided to just stick it out there. He was quiet, and I thought this would be a good chance to explain: “I’ve always been really good at them, and we’ve never had an act here with ribbons before, and everybody always loves them…”

“Nope. We don’t need more accidents.”

I paused.

“But we’ve never had an accident here,” I said. He bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut, and took a deep breath before looking at me again.

“No, Izzy. Just a precaution.”

“Excuse me, are you Mr. Barnabus Lovafsky?” A light voice behind me said. I turned around to look at a girl. Probably not that much older than I, she was slim with chocolate eyes, long blonde hair, and lightly toasted skin. She smiled, showing sparkling white teeth. I rolled my eyes and got out of her way.

They began talking, and as soon as I was almost out of earshot, Barney called to me.

“Izzy! This is Cassandra. She’s going to be your new trapeze partner.” I stopped, my bare feet frozen in the cool, dewy grass.

“What? No she’s not.” I kept walking, ignoring Barney’s callings to me. No way. She would never replace Peti. No skinny, blonde, brown eyed American was going to replace Peti, ever. I felt like throwing up. No way.

As soon as I found my bed on the train, I sunk into it. I just wanted to get moving and get out of here.

“So you heard?” Peti poked his head into the compartment.

“Did you know?” I watched as he nodded. Of course he had known. “But what are you going to do then?” He frowned.

“The trapeze.”

“By yourself?”

“No…are you alright?” Then I realized what he was saying, and I let out an anguished scream.

“She can’t be in our act with us. There’s no way. She’s not going to be in it. I’m getting her kicked out. She’s out of here. I don’t like her, and I never will.”

“Have you even talked to her?” Peti said.

“She’s American. I’ve heard her talk, and that’s enough. This is an English traveling circus-”

“But I’m Italian. Barney’s Russian. You’re even part Gypsy.” I crossed my arms at his remark. He was right: Peti Boniface, Barney Lovafsky, Ismeralda Brighton.

“But we’re European.”

“Give it a rest, Izzy, and go to sleep. Okay?” He jumped out of the car and walked away. I crossed my arms again, huddling under my blanket. I was so incredibly awake now. I was feeling exhausted, light headed, but now I felt awake.

I threw the blanket off me and headed to the back of the car where I jumped up on some crates to reach the trap door to get on the roof. Wriggling through it, I put my feet over the edge of the car and stared at the night sky. I was not going to have another girl in our trapeze act. It would be too cluttered. Me and Peti could do it fine, just fine. We didn’t need someone else…

“Let alone an American someone else,” I muttered, tossing a stray stone onto the ground.

“Who are you talking to?” A voice asked me. I jumped and began to slide off the roof, my fingers clutching the cutout in it.

“Not you, whoever you are,” I said. A single, gloved hand was held out to me, and I figured that would be the only way I’d get back up on top, so I took it and was hauled back to my original position. There was a black figure next to me, wearing a coat, hat, and gloves. How had I not seen them before? “I’m really getting old.”

“Yep, Izzy. Yes you are.” They answered.

“So what brings you up here?” I figured I couldn’t be rude and just outright ask them who they were.

“The peace, the quiet. Companionship.”

“That’s kind of contradictory. Why would you want peace if you want someone to talk to?” I said.

“I don’t only want someone to talk to, I need to talk to you. It’s important.”

“Look, if this is some sort of drug deal, you can high tail it out of here, because I’m not only a minor, I simply don’t do that sort of thing.” I began to scoot off the edge when he grabbed my arm.

“Wait. It really is important. It’s none of that. You just dropped something back there.” And he handed me something large and bulky wrapped in a ruck sack. I took it, and almost fell off the car again.

“What’s in here? Cement? Concrete? Gold?” I half joked. The figure nodded. “Concrete?”

“Money. You’re going to need it.” I just stared at the bag.

“Well, thanks, incredibly kind stranger. Thanks for waltzing on up to my hiding place, scary me off of it, and handing me an incredibly generous sum of moolah. I sincerely appreciate it. But I don’t want any trouble in the black market, so tah-tah, see you-”

“Izzy? Who are you talking to?” Peti had appeared on the ground below my dangling feet.

“Oh, hi Peti. I’m talking to this stranger who just-” I looked over my shoulder, but all that was there was the large bag of money. “-who just…no one. I’m not talking to anybody, Peti.” He shook his head and walked back off in the direction where he had just come from. I shook my own head. I’ve been dropped on my head too many times, I thought to myself.