Circus Boy

I was born into the circus life. As a twelve-year-old boy it’s what I knew and all I cared about. My parents were high-wire artists under the big top. Like any kid, I had chores, but mine came from the ringmaster. I helped take care of the animals, fed them and cleaned their cages, but also assisted with setup for many acts, a young boy's dream. It was a great life, but not a typical family. I longed for a brother or sister. 

The colorful triangular pennants strung around the circus boundaries from tent to 

tent gave an air of excitement as you entered. We had many visitors, but Sarah was exceptional. She was a six-year-old and thrilled about life and everything in it. Her dad held her hand tightly in a protective way. I could see the love he had for her by the way he smiled when he was with her. She was interested in the performers, the jugglers, trapeze artists, knife throwers, and contortionists, any and all of the entertainers. I wasn't one, just a circus boy that took care of the animals, no one important, but that made no difference to Sarah because I was part of the circus.

Sarah and her dad, Stan, came to the circus many times that season, and her

enthusiasm never diminished. Stan was a good father, when he was around but also a gambler and played poker every chance he got. He would often play with some of the circus carnies, but those games could get rough. Stan paid me to watch Sarah when there was a game on the circus grounds. I didn't mind; Mom and Dad were my only family and watching Sarah made me feel like a big brother. I was happy to show her the secrets behind the scenes. 

 Her dad would always pick her up after the card game, but one night he didn't 

return, so we went looking but found no sign of him. The guys he played poker with knew nothing about his whereabouts. They said Stan left the game a winner, and was in good spirits. Sarah stayed with my parents and me that night, but she didn't sleep, none of us did. 

Days, weeks, and months went by, and still, her father didn't return. Sarah was

becoming part of our family. I called her Sis and believed she thought of me as her brother. When she became sad, I tried to comfort her. I didn't want her to leave. I didn't want her father to return, and I felt guilty because I knew he never would. 

What I did was wrong, but it's better for Sarah this way. With us, she has a real

family, a mom, dad, and brother. Once summer arrived the circus moved north to a new town, so I’m safe now. They’ll never find him. 

I'm a circus boy, and now I have a sister.