Scene One From a Novella

This is the serenade of lunacy. I'd like to welcome all guests, hope you will all be comfortable for the trip. When I was a kid in Tidioute we had a circus come to town. It was one of those old circuses, with the sexy 14 year old trapeze girls and battered elephants too dumb with beatings to mind the crowd much. There was a vacant lot in the center of town, where the old folks home stands now, and not much ever transpired there, save a few events, one of which was the circus and the other was the time a coon wandered up the lone tree in the center of the field. I recall the lone coon, as my dad had prize coon hounds back then, and we lived only a few stray and narrow streets away and so, and so ... We hooked up the grizzled and scarred only walker dog, not the plot, 'cause walkers have more dignity, and down we went to the lone coon in the lone tree in the lone town. And the dog saw the lone coon in the lone tree in the lone town and raised hell like it was Saturday night at the Pub, with drinks half price. And people came and gawked like squalid zombies from scuttle dry crypts at the walker that ripped at the lone tree, to get at the lone coon, in the lone town. At noon.

The circus was a good time, and the whole ball team got to go for free. And I was on the ball team, though I wasn't much good at it, and so I got to see the sexy young trapeze girls in their tight little outfits with new plump titties just bulging and gaudy blue eye makeup and I recall all the old drunks crowding into the main tent from the bars, they stood on the fringes and teetered and leered and whistled at the airborne cunt so long ago. I was seated among royalty, the young aristocracy in ball caps and fixed with strange wonder at these swirling and leaping creatures newly unleashed among us ... Nine year old boyhood entranced and we all fell in love with the same girl, I learned later, down to the last little snot nose rot fuck of a ballplayer. She wasn't the blond. I think blonds were too much for our minds then. The blond girls in the classes formed a nordic front, an untouchable and icy ideal that one day we might aspire to, being little fucks ourselves and it hardly mattered to the male species if our own hair was blond or shitty or black or speckled white. But the little brunette, that petite and slender little wonder, up there above the world below and adorned with silver and gold and her thighs the color of honey and we'd never seen flesh the color of honey at that age on one so young and like ourselves. Skin was either brown, or white depending on the season.

Had a cousin and I learned later that her name was Sylvia, and he knew, because he lived in a gray lonely little two story dwelling with his beaten alcoholic father who was my uncle, who played the guitar at the honky tonk bars and could only sing when he was on the whiskey, and then sing not that well, and my cousin lived there beside the big lot in the center of the lone town where the lone dog had once treed the lone coon. And so my cousin, he'd helped the old carnies erect the tents and feed the lions, and do all sorts of odd things, because my cousin wasn't on the baseball team, because my cousin's dad drank and sang the blues, so he had to get a free ticket somehow and that is how he did it. And he met Sylvia, and she was kind to him, but he didn't know her that well, and was more concerned with her older sister's bigger titties, he being older himself and not so very afraid of blond girls or their nordic devices and magic ways. But later, after the main performance in the big tent, he spoke to Sylvia and she said she saw a boy who was cute and she liked him from the audience, and my cousin swore and swore and swore it was me, and if she had her way she's settle down and come to Tidioute an settle down with the nine year little fucker snot rag baseball player, as he was so nice, she could tell he was nice, and live with him and fuck him with her fourteen year old body, and make a baby with him and all would be well and they'd have a fine xmas thank you. My cousin told me this, but told me after the circus left town, so sudden, and she would come back one day for me. Swore it.

But I says, and I wondered, as there was so many of us in the royal seats, and how did he know it was me that she saw who was so cute and so kind, and she could tell I was so royal and good, that she would give up her life on the high trapeze and come to bed me and teach me and let me be kind to her in ways that I could only imagine. She with the dark hair, in the long braid, with huge black eyes and slender legs, with a plump butt already too big for the trapeze? Well, it was your hat, he said, and she described you well. But, I hadn't worn my hat at all, and I was the only snot nosed fuck who hadn't worn my cap, as I didn't think the coach allowed us to wear our hat outside of the games, and so, I guessed she hadn't meant me, after all, and I broke down crying in front of my cousin, because I so had wanted to know the young sleek girl and have her come live with me and teach me the ways of exotic lands. But he eased my tears and changed his mind, and after all, yes, he recalled it correctly, the one without the hat was the one who Sylvia would come back for one day, and love, and cherish, and have xmas dinner with. Yes, and she spoke of him most cheerily, and wanted to know him, but she was leaving town in the morning, and would come back, and then she would be his, and he hers, and she'd retire from the land of old drunks and scarred elephants forever. Out.