�������������������������  A Tragedy!
�������������������[by me, October 1995]

���� "Se�or Alfieri! A tragedy!"

���� "Anthony! What has happened?"

���� "A cable snapped, Se�or. The motorcycle cage fell; it struck his head."

���� The folds of the grey ear have filled; blood trickles over onto the dirt. Se�or Alfieri kneels beside Bernard, the greatest elephant.

���� The tent doors flap in the night wind.

����The audience is silent.
���� They watch the pool of blood widen; they watch it touch the knee of Se�or Alfieri�s white tights and the cloth begin to soak.

���� The Se�or is ill -- tonight, for the first time in thirty years, he rested in his trailer while another man played Ringmaster for this circus.

���� Ordering the curtain raised that night had been the greatest moment of young Anthony's life.

���� He now stands to the side in the borrowed white tights, sweats in tradition�s red jacket. Anthony is praying that the Se�or will now take charge as ringmaster.

���� The old man shivers. Anthony lays the red jacket beside its owner, glad to be rid of it; then steps back a few paces, retreats from the audience�s gaze.
���� Se�or Alfieri, doubled over, shudders and his vomit splashes the dirt.
���� "Gracias, Tony," says the Se�or, quietly, with lips still rigid as he pulls the coat over his shoulders.

���� Se�or Alfieri returns to the animal�s side.

���� It occurs to Anthony that the course of tonight�s proceedings might remain in his own hands. Surely, though, the Se�or remembers that Richard has forced Anthony --a superfluous member of the company since the death of his trained bear last spring-- into substituting as Ringmaster tonight, under threat of expulsion from the circus. The Se�or must also be aware that the circus is a financial venture about which Anthony knows nothing and in which, therefore, he should not have say-so of any kind! regardless of how white-tighted and top-hatted he might now stand in Ring No. 3! Anthony refuses to believe that the Se�or will abandon him. He is positive that momentarily, the Se�or shall come to his rescue.

���� Anthony surveys the audience, hovering above, then observes the Se�or sadly slumped beside the elephant. The old man leans forward to caress the wrinkled forehead.
���� "Bernard," he says, with deep regret, and the audience is filled with compassion.

���� Bernard drags a leg through the dirt.

���� However appropriate the old man�s current focus, it is clear to Anthony that Se�or Alfieri fails to notice the hundreds of circus-goers straining in their seats. Unaware of Anthony's unfortunate circumstance of unqualified imposterism, the audience now awaits from the Ringmaster some action that will set time back in motion. The drama of a man and a bleeding elephant can hold out only for so long. Anthony is inclined to send them home-- a merciful resolution to this dreadful scene, but he is unsure of the reaction that such a decision might bring from the investors.

���� "Se�or," says Anthony, "the people."
���� The people shift in their seats; they can only peer from their seats across the great space, drinking in this grotesque scene, praying that in the next moment they will not be ushered out to their cars.
���� The Se�or leans closer to Bernard, one hand on the elephant�s tusk. His right leg is soaked with blood. Anthony stands now at Se�or Alfieri�s side.
���� "Se�or," says Anthony, "there are children."
���� The audience tenses, waits for a response.
���� The Se�or gives none.
���� The great crowd of spectators� eyes bore down upon Se�or Alfieri and poor Bernard. Craning their necks and straining their eyes the audience reaches out, stretches toward the blood and the tragedy and the suspense.
���� Anthony knows they are waiting. He must act. He knows that Richard will have made preparations for whatever course of action he should decide upon.
���� Anthony stands silent for a moment, steps back, turns. "Richard!" he cries out, with a grand wave of his arm, "a curtain!"
���� Twenty clowns on a train of black cloth burst onto the floor of the big top. Each has a coil of rope on his shoulder, and each leaps with perfect timing over the steel rim into Ring No. 1, and then out. Into Ring No. 2 and again out, sweeping past the ring of fire and the balloon-balls, all such items having been abandoned at the sudden and complete halt of the circus performance. They circle Bernard and the Se�or in Ring No. 3, and heave their ropes skyward. The curtain is hoisted. The clowns spin off to retrieve their clown-toys.
���� The audience stirs, confused as to whether or not this was a performance.
���� A goat is led into Ring No. 1 and, perched upon an iron stand, is made to spit fire. Three times it spits fire, before leaping off the stand into the arms of a flashing, sequined lady. In Ring No. 2, a short man in black is thrown to the ground by a tiger, but presently regains his position with slippery movements and a few cracks of his short whip. The audience gasps, then applauds. Anthony yells through the commotion, "Ladies and Gentlemen, the show continues! In the Center Ring-- Mr. Paul Chevalier, tamer of great cats!" and clowns run honking and squirting through the audience, as the lights over Ring No. 3 go down, leaving the black curtain in darkness.


1 Comments

chris - 2009-04-23 17:19:16
i like that i wrote this story, but i hate the story. it's too much ABOUT something and not enough SOMETHING.