The Magnificent Magic Circus

—Roll up, Roll up –

Witness the magnificent circus -

“-the magnificent MAGIC circus”

Oh, yes. 

Roll up Roll up, witness the magnificent magic circus. You won’t believe your eyes…

“or your nose”, screeched Mabel. “When’s the last time you had a shower, Piet?”

Piet turned around and blew a raspberry. He did a lot of blowing for a ten-year-old. He blew raspberries, blew off steam, hot air, glass, and Mabel’s hair. It was Piet’s specialty. He had humongous lips, and they were hard and plump, with an edge where the inside turned to outside. He also had the biggest lungs and strongest vocal cords ever recorded, and his chest stuck out like a bird’s to make way for those impressive organs. If you looked at him in direct sunlight, you could see the surface of the lungs shimmer through his skin. As such, Piet blew. He blew this way and that and would go on to blow up a few sheds in his pyromaniac teens. 

Behind Piet came Oliver, pulling the cart. He was very long and very thin. From a distance it was hard to see him, there wasn’t really enough of him to catch any light. He found it difficult to sit, or sleep, because any bed was too short and sitting down hurt his pokey bones. He towered over the others, stooping down to hear what they said. Today, he was glad of the mild weather. If the wind picked up, on occasion, the others had to fold him up on the cart and push him too, lest the wind catch on him like on a string and play a tune. Everyone of course enjoys music, but in high winds the last thing you need is an atonal, arrhythmic, unpredictable twang, drowning out the conversation. 

Mabel was a bearded lady. 

Our trio trudged along a muddy path on this windless day. Their breaths heaved on the upwards slope through the hill and the cart’s wooden wheels creaked and squelched. 

“Come and view the freaks, the blowing wonderboy, the string man, the bearded lady…” Piet went on practicing, but stopped mid-sentence. “Where are we even going? Surely, there can be no reason to trudge along this mountain. There’s no one here.” But the consensus was that there was possibly a big city, or a magnificent castle around the bend. Perhaps even a new country. 

Around the bend, however, they found a cave. And in the cave was an old, white-haired hermit. They knew he was a hermit, because he introduced himself as such. 

“hullo, who are you?”, Piet had asked. “I’m a hermit”, the hermit had answered. He looked at the breathless travellers and offered “won’t you come into the cave, sit down?”. Gratefully they accepted, though Oliver declined the seat. “You know, you are the first people I have seen in almost a century”, the hermit said.

“Why?”, asked Piet. “I am a hermit”, said the hermit. Piet wondered again, what a hermit was. “What’s a hermit?”

“A hermit is someone who is alone and doesn’t see or speak to anyone.”

“So, are you a hermit right now?” 

The hermit blinked.

“You have a magnificent voice my boy, who are you?”

“We are freaks”, Piet retorted. “We are the magnificent magic circus, you won’t believe your-“

“What’s a freak?”, asked the hermit. 

“A freak, you know, a freak of nature… unusual, not like other people”, explained Mabel. 

The hermit looked confused.

“See, like my lips are so big”, gestured Piet. “And I am really long”, said Oliver. “And I have a beard,” said Mabel. 

“I also have a beard”, said the hermit thoughtfully. “So does Oliver? In fact, Piet is the odd one out for not having one”. “Yes, but you are supposed to have them. And Piet is just a boy”, explained Mabel. “Ah”. The hermit seemed to gather his thoughts. “I can see you are as similar and different to me as I to him and to all of you. And you cannot be unlike others if I cannot compare you to anyone else”.

The four people in the cave looked at each other in silence for a second, before Piet burst out, “how come you can speak if you’ve been alone for so long?”. “I speak to myself, to practise. And also to snails”, answered the hermit.

 And so, the conversation piet-ered on, until Oliver got tired of stooping in the cave and the hermit got tired of company. Finally, the magnificent magical circus made its way out of the cave, and let the old man become a hermit again. Though it was night, the full moon lit the path nicely. They marched on bravely for another week, until, behind another bend they happened upon a new country and became man and woman and boy and freaks once more.