The Circus

    We went every year, or every other year – whenever it came to town. I don't remember any of it from the beginning. I know all the stories well enough, though. Oh, the stories.

     The first year I was four, and I was in love with tigers. At the end of the show, you somehow convinced the guy to let me go up to it. He licked my hand, like a cat. You'd never have guessed it was a killer of the jungle. I got to pet him, and talked about it for years.
     I had been so enthralled by the tigers that I hadn't noticed the clowns that first year apparently. I was five years old, my second time at the circus. They did ridiculous things like stand on each other's shoulders, nine clowns high, while the one on the bottom stood on a ball, and the one on the top juggled. When we were leaving, a clown came up to us and tried to make me laugh. I screamed, and dropped my stick of cotton candy. A few minutes later, face still streaked with tears, there was a new stick in my hand, twice as big as before and as I said on the walk home, much better tasting. I'd ended up with other things too, a tiger cup with a twisty straw, some stickers, a stuffed tiger…
     For two years, I swore I was never going again. The next time they came around, however, the then sulking seven year old me was crowded under that Big Top Tent, alternately gripping her grandpa's hand as tight as possible, and shooting death glares at any clown that dared to come too close. There was a new act this year; an elephant. It wasn't like in the movies, where they all stand on top of each other. But it wasn't exactly boring, either. That year I was stuck between fascination for the beautiful, dancing creature (even if it was large, and funny looking), and infuriation, that they would take all of these wonderful animals and torture them, making them perform just so that they could make money, and entertain a few people. At the end we went to meet the Ringmaster, and he explained that there was no torture, that they were happy animals. He brought us back to meet everyone, and the animals. Seraphina was so much bigger up close. There was a boy, Sebastian. He loved her with all of his heart. Even though he was only nine, he had grown up in the circus. It was his home, And Sera was his baby. He took me up on her for a ride, and seven-year-old me fell in love.
     They didn't come back for two years, but I waited anxiously. I hoped Sebastian would remember me, hoped I could get close to Seraphina again. Elephants are such weird things. Shortly after that third trip I had started drawing. It was all from memory, but I drew a Sebastian on Seraphina, over and over. I wanted to give it to my friend. That year, we didn't actually see the circus. We sat behind everything, back with the people and the animals. Away from the crowd and the music and noise. Sebastian loved his picture, he hung it on the wall in his room. He hugged me, gave me a phone number I could reach him at, and told me I was his best friend. That year I went to the circus four times. I had always wanted a best friend.
     The next year I was ten. I didn't get to go see Sebastian or Seraphina that year, I was home sick, could hardly get out of bed. I felt like I was going to die, I do remember that. Sebastian came to see me. Said you picked him up while I was asleep. He brought me two things that day. The first was a drawing of me on Seraphina, which he had spent months on. He hung it on my wall for me because I tried to get up and started coughing so bad I had to lie back down. The second was a videotape. It was a five minute video, mostly of Seraphina. There were a few voices other than Sebastian, the general noise of the circus, a bit of teasing, but mostly it was him talking to me and Sera. She would wave, and the camera would follow her. He talked about me, and she got so excited. I wouldn't have to wait a whole year to see her again. I gave him a picture of me, telling him I'd do better next year, and smiled weakly. He hugged me, and I fell asleep shortly before he left.

     Nine years went by, he came every year or two, we talked on the phone almost every day. And he wrote me letters. I still have all of them. Nothing too exciting happened when I went to the circus anymore; I didn't go to see the acts, I went to see my best friends. I got to know everyone else, and was treated like family. We got another elephant, she was mine. I named her Lilac, and she was my baby. She was a lot smaller than Seraphina, but she would grow. She is two years old, now, and I love her almost as much as I love Sebastian. I am nineteen, and moved in with him two months ago. And couldn't be happier.
     We come home at least once a year, and Sebastian stays with us, just as he has for the past five years. Now every time the circus rolls into town it isn't him and my babies I'm excited to see, it's my grandpa. And every year without fail, there is one night we sit in the crowd eating cotton candy and drinking out of tiger cups, and the rest of the time he is in back with his family.