Freak Show

 “Ladies and Gentlemen! The moment you’ve been waiting for!” The call rang through the square as passers-by shopped at the market. The man yelling stood on a crate dressed in a dirty red jacket and a torn top hat, but his face was joyful and dramatic and his voice was engaging, making people stop and listen.

“We all know the traditional tales. A little girl just wanting to visit her grandmother has a bad run in with a wolf. A man so thin because his enormous wife eats everything in sight. The whimsical, quarreling, inseparable twins.” The man paused and made eye contact with the little girl in the front listening intently. “What’s your favorite nursery rhyme, young lady?”

The little girl hid behind her mother’s skirt but peeked her head out and said, “Humpty Dumpty.”

“Ah, yes. Some say he was so fat he looked like a giant egg.” The little girl nodded. “Well guess what. I happen to know him. And you can meet him too.” 

The girl tugged on her mother’s dress and pleaded with her eyes.

“Come on down!” the man continued to the crowd. “The Nightmare Nursery Rhymes Freak Show is just beyond these curtains.” He swooped his arm behind him and gestured to a large black and white tent set up about 50 meters away. Several dozen people made their way to the show. 
Thaddeus Wright jumped off his tiny platform and followed. His face betrayed no thought other than enjoyment, but if you looked carefully, you could tell his gait was slower and had no bounce to it. The little bit of hair he had left (though he was only in his late thirties) under his hat was shaggy and lifeless. His fingers balled into fists at his sides, showing unknown tensions.

In truth, Thaddeus was tired of it all. Every evening, the same thing; plaster on a smile and rob innocent folks of their money, promising wild tales and extraordinary sights. A life of lies. And a lonely one at that.

Thaddeus raced ahead of the crowd as they reached the tent. He collected their dimes and pulled the flap of the tent back. The crowd gasped in delight at the sight of the first exhibit.

There she was, Little Red Riding Hood. A girl of about twelve, long dark hair in braids and a bright red cloak over her shoulders. She carried a basket of muffins and other treats. She skipped up to the edge of the small stage, smiled broadly and waved at the crowd. A few children waved back. On the back part of the set was some shrubbery and a few fake trees.  Behind one large bush crept out the wolf. 

A boy in the audience yelled, “Red, look out!” Little Red turned around and saw the wolf. He was clearly a man, a very hairy man, but just a man. Thaddeus had fitted him with fake claws and fangs to make him look more menacing and the wolf-man growled as he jumped after Little Red. They made a play of running around the small stage before the wolf finally chased her behind the bush. The plant rattled and the wolf snarled. Splatters of red rained upon the stage. 

The crowd shrieked and laughed and clapped at the show. Thaddeus led them through the next curtain to another stage. Here you saw a stick thin man serving his enormously fat wife pumpkin pie. Remnants of past meals are everywhere. The wife eats the pie without a fork or even her hands, finished it completely in thirty seconds flat. This couple was obviously Jack Sprat (who could eat no fat) and his wife (who could eat no lean). Jack was very tall and his bony shoulders and elbows made him look severely thin. The woman was very large, yes, but made to look even more so by some extra padding Thaddeus made her wear under her polka-dotted dress. 

In the next exhibit, folks saw Tweedledum and Tweedledee, Siamese twins, conjoined at the hip. Whether they were really conjoined or not, only Thaddeus and the twins knew. Other parts of the tent showed Jack-Be-Nimble, the contortionist, The Crooked Man, who had a disability which made his bones grow at weird angles, especially in his spine, making him hunched over and “crooked.” The stage he was on was tilted and the props, the grandfather clock and the kitchen table, were bent at angles to match the character.

And the little girl from the square was overjoyed about seeing Humpty Dumpty in the final exhibit, sitting up on his wall, waving at her with delight. She cried real tears when the fat man fell and split in two pieces, a clever ruse Thaddeus could take no credit for. It was all from the mind of James Crow, aka Humpty Dumpty. 

Night had fallen while the show was going on and everyone emerged from the tent in darkness. Thaddeus ushered them out and gathered the performers together in his office which was located in the center of the tent. 

“Here’s your take,” he said as he divided out the money they made that evening. “Go enjoy your evening. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Where are we headed tomorrow?” James Crow asked. 

“Ipswich.” 

“Again?”

“They love us there.”

“Are you sure we’re not just avoiding London?” James was Thaddeus’ only confidant. His wisdom and creativity had helped Thaddeus many times. He wished he had known James earlier in his life.   

Thaddeus Wright was born from nothing. He had taken odd jobs in the big city, but had always wanted to run his own business. He got the idea of the Freak Show when he was reading fairy tales and wondering if they were true. He imagined that Little Red Riding Hood was based on a true story and the wolf in the tale was really just an evil man that murdered the girl. 

The problem with starting his own business, of course, was that he had no money. Having lived in the streets, he knew of some not so lawful characters and through them he found King Charles. King Charles had loaned him the money to start and had chased him all over Great Britain since. 

Thaddeus gave James a wink and retreated to the pub down the road.   

The show didn’t bring him near as much money as he had thought. The cost of the tents and the exhibits, paying the performers, traveling from town to town. It left him with only a few dimes a night to waste while he sulked over a few pints at the local pub. 

Ten years he’s been running the show and where had it gotten him? No money, no fame. Traveling all over England to small towns presenting the same freaks, the same gags, day after day. He should’ve settled down and had a family. But he missed his chance at that. Ten years ago, being a family man didn’t seem very exciting. He wanted adventure. He hadn’t realized the burdens of a traveling show outweighed the fun.
Two pints in, a burly man ducks his head to fit through the door of the pub. His eyes scan the room and stall at Thaddeus’ back.

“King Charles would like a word.” The half whisper/ half growl comes from right behind Thaddeus’ neck and sends a shiver down his spine. He turns and looks at the man and has to crane his neck at the colossus standing over him. Thaddeus’ first thought is, I could use a giant in my show. Jack and the Beanstalk. 

“I’ll bet he would,” Thaddeus replied. 

The giant man led him out the door and to the alley behind the pub. Before Thaddeus could even say anything, an enormous fist swung around and

Thaddeus doubled over from a blow to his stomach.

“King Charles is giving you one week to pay in full.” And with that he left.

Thaddeus coughed and groaned and slid to the ground. It took several minutes before he caught his breath, but even after he could breathe normally and the pain in his gut subsided, he sat against the pub wall in silence. He didn’t even have two dimes to his name, let alone the amount he owed the usurer. Traveling through small town after small town wouldn’t cut it anymore. He needed money fast. There was only one place to go.
He must have eventually fallen asleep because the next thing he knew, the sun was peeking through the alley. Thaddeus drug himself back to the tent and saw that the crew had already started tearing down. 

“There he is!” cried the wolf-man.

“We’ll be ready to head to Ipswich in about an hour,” James told his boss.

“Change of plans,” Thaddeus said. Everyone stopped what they were doing and waited for the rest. “We’re going to London.”

Only in the big city could Thaddeus hope to even come close to earning the money he owed. And now that King Charles had tracked him down, there was no point hiding anymore. Of course, there was another reason he avoided London. But he didn’t bother thinking about that now.  
 
Two days later, Thaddeus had a crowd around him as he recited his invitation in the bustling city center.  Young and old, rich and poor, they all came to hear of this new Freak Show that came to town.  

As Thaddeus spoke, his eyes drifted over the crowd. He spotted two big goons in the back staring at him. Well, everyone was staring at him, but these guys had menace in their eyes. And between them stood a shorter, better dressed man with a smirk on his face. King Charles. He had changed since Thaddeus had last seen him all those years ago; grayer, rounder. The sight of him made Thaddeus stutter during the tale of the twins, but he recovered himself quickly and turned completely around on his crate-platform to look at the other half of the crowd. 

“Tweedledee and Tweedledum! No longer just a rhyme your mother told you as a child, but here, in the flesh.”  

When his eyes met those of a woman not three meters away, he didn’t just stutter, he stopped speaking. There she was. Catherine. Her braided hair fluttered in the wind. She was even more beautiful than Thaddeus remembered. He had forced himself not to think about her since he first left London. He knew that if he gave her any thought at all, he would have left this circus and run back to her. He never should have left. She now stand next to a tall gentleman with light brown hair and a full beard, and in front of Catherine is a small copy of the man.  Her son. Her family. Of course she had moved on. Why wouldn’t she? 

Thaddeus took a deep breath and finished his speech ushering the crowd to his tent. This was by far the largest crowd he had ever gathered. It might make him a tenth of his debt. 

When Catherine and her family came up to pay their entry, her eyes met Thaddeus’ and he could see the longing still there. His heart felt it too. He wanted to grab her and pull her to him right then and there. But he let them pass and went on with the show.
Hours after the show ended, Thaddeus sat at his desk made of old crates and a slab of wood. He couldn’t bring himself to count his money. He sat in silence. Ten years of not thinking about Catherine had caught up to him. She was all he could think about now. His worries about King Charles were dwarfed by the grief of a life he missed out on. 

The oddities had left him alone to enjoy the town.  The flap of curtain that served as his door raised. Catherine entered. Thaddeus sat up straight. His heart flip flopped in his chest.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

“I had to come,” she said.

“You’re married.”

“You left.” 

He couldn’t argue with her. 

“You never even wrote,” she said.

Thaddeus looked down.  Neither of them spoke for several long moments.

“I just needed to see you again.” She turned to leave.

“Wait!” Thaddeus called out. He stood up and walked around his desk. He wrapped her in his arms, expecting her to fight him off, but she collapsed against him, weeping. Thaddeus stroked her hair, silent tears running down his face. Catherine broke their embrace. 

“I shouldn’t have come tonight. I’m sorry.” And she left. 

Thaddeus thought about going after her, but what was the point? She had a husband. She had a child. He had nothing. He could’ve had her, but he chose freedom. What a joke! He was more trapped now than ever. He grabbed a few coins off the desk and headed down to the local pub. 
 
Four more nights in London. Four more nights of fairy tale antics. Each evening, his speech got shorter and less jubilant. Catherine hadn’t come back. And that was probably for the best. Each night of the show King Charles or one of his goons showed up. Instead of making him nervous, which was probably their intention, it made Thaddeus more depressed. Instead of saving every hay penny he made, he blew it on booze and prostitutes. He roamed the streets of the city every night and only slept for a few hours each morning. 

On their fifth day in London, the nursery rhyme characters got to their stages and Thaddeus once again took his box into the main square. 
“Good evening everyone!” He yelled. “Tonight I have a special treat for you.” Several people stopped to listen. “Even if you’ve seen the show before, you need to see it tonight. Will Red Riding Hood make it to her grandmother’s? Will Humpty Dumpty be put back together again?” Thaddeus tried to make eye contact with every person in the audience. “You’ll just have to come and see.”

He jumped off the podium and headed into the tent, not looking if anyone followed. When people arrived, Thaddeus did not ask for their money, he wasn’t even in the room. But there was Red Riding Hood, skipping away. 

After each exhibit, the crowd moved on without the aid of their master of ceremonies. They gawked at Jack Sprat’s wife and laughed at the twins’ dance. Even those who had come to a show previously screamed as Humpty Dumpty fell off his wall and broke in two. 

The audience was expecting to exit the tent and head back to their lives, but when they opened the curtain at the end of the last stage, they found another exhibit set up. 

A sign at the bottom of the stage read, “The Hanged Man.” And displayed on stage was Thaddeus Wright, the charismatic showman they had all been drawn to, hanging from a rope.