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YESTERDAYS

Note: Barnum and Bailey was started in 1881 and this story takes place much
earlier than that. Second, Cottonmouth snakes are not common to Canada but let’s
pretend, shall we? Third, I don’t know when cotton candy was invented
but it was earlier into the nineteenth century.

“Pa? Where we goin’?” The little boy had big brown eyes and blackish blue
hair that grew funny as if it were a pair of dogs’ ears instead.

“We’s goin’ to the circus, don’t’cha wanna go to the circus, boy?” The man
was tall and gruff. His hair was brown and his eyes were dark.

“The circus?” The boy repeated to himself with wonder. He seemed much too
short for his age but it didn’t seem to affect his self-esteem or
confidence. He jumped along side his father to catch up but stopped dead in
his tracks when he saw the giant tents yonder.

“What’s this, pa?” The brown-eyed boy asked as a large wad of pink fluff
was handed to him on a stick.

“It’s candied cotton, boy.” The man replied a bit irritably.

“What’s it taste like?”

“I dunno, why don’t you try it?” His dark eyes darkened at the child’s
baseness.

“Taste like sugar.” The boy beamed up at his father with a mouth full.

“Whatever. Here’s a penny, go look into the freak show over there.” He
pushed the youth off into its general direction. He himself, headed towards
a girl standing near the elephants.

There was an immense poster advertising the freak show inside the tent but
what caught the boy’s eye was the picture of the Lion Man. He had a tail
and a lion’s head and claws…what a marvel.

“Excuse me, mister? Is that man still here?” He tugged on the man who was
taking the people’s money to enter.

“Yeah he is, kid. Big guy, likes ta eat li’l children too so stay away from
the cage.” The man smirked. He took the boy’s money and permitted him
entrance.

Behind the red curtain was a cage but the youngster couldn’t see inside of
it due to his height. People were gathered around it and were yelling to
its occupant. Some even had sticks to poke the inhabitant and rocks to
throw at him. The boy found a pail and dragged it over to the front. The
public moved to let him in and he flipped the bucket over and stood on it.

Inside was a muscular man lying on his side, his back facing them. He had
blond lion hair that grew past his shoulders. The Lion Man had kept care to
tuck in his hands and feet from the audience but this only provoked them to
throw things at him.

Finally fed up, the people left and went on in the freak show tent. The boy
remained to stare. The only movement the Lion Man made was pushing out the
things the people had thrown into his jail

“Hi. My name’s Logan.” The boy said to the beast. He received no response.

Logan got off his pail and found some rocks that the man had pushed out of
his cage. With a handful, he stepped back up and tossed them at the brute.
He didn’t quite understand why they had been throwing pebbles but thought
it might be welcomed.

“Do you eat rocks er somethin’, mister?” Logan asked innocently.

“No.” The Lion Man growled lowly.

“Why was they throwin’ them at you then?” The man only tossed a hateful
look over his shoulder at the boy, without revealing his face. “Can I see
you, please?” Logan inquired.

“No.” Lion Man replied.

“Why?” Yet another dirty look proceeded one of his questions. “I just wanna
see you.” Nothing. “You want some cotton candy?” Logan poked a bit of pink
cotton in between the bars of the cage. He watched as the Lion Man took it,
still hiding his face in the shadows. “You like it?”

“Yeah.” Growled the other.

“Boy? Are ya’ll done in there? I wanna get home ‘fore the sun goes down!”
Logan’s father called into the tent.

“Please? I gotta go, I just wanna see you once.” He begged, but the man
didn’t budge and Logan was dragged out of the tent a few minutes later,
disappointed.

TEN YEARS LATER

“Barnum and Bailey, huh? Doesn’t look like it changed much.” An adolescent
boy with blackish blue hair that grew funny as if it were a pair of dogs’
ears said to himself. He bought himself admittance and began to look around
at the attractions.

The boy was short for a seventeen-year-old but it didn’t seem to bother him
much. He wandered aimlessly forwards but stopped at the sight of a poster
advertising the freak show. What caught his eye wasn’t the Siamese Twins or
the Bearded Lady but the Lion Man. The poster hadn’t changed in the last
few years.

He paid his penny and threw back the red curtain. In front of him was a
two-headed goat, so where was the Lion Man? The boy’s brown eyes found the
cage of the beast in the very back and he walked purposefully towards it.

He was alone at the cage and the man was still lying in the same position
as ten years ago. “Hey. Remember me? I’m Logan. I gave you cotton candy
once, you wouldn’t turn around for me…remember that?” The beast didn’t turn
around. “Can ya turn around for me now? Please?” He didn’t even flinch.

Angry, Logan picked up a stick he found on the side of the cell and picked
it up. He maneuvered it between the bars and started to poke the Lion Man’s
back. “I’m gonna keep doin’ this ‘til you turn around and thank me fer the
candy.” He threatened. Others saw what he was doing and came and joined
him.

Once again he found people with sticks, poking at the occupant and throwing
rocks at him but this time, he didn’t need a bucket to stand on.

“Papa, get the animal to turn around, I wanna see his face.” A little girl
tugged on her father’s sleeve. The man took a stick from a thin teenager
beside him and began to prod the prone figure in the jail. The Lion Man
made no attempts to please the viewers.

“Someone go get the man outside the tent, he’ll get this atrocity to show
his face.” A chap from the left called and others fled to do just that. The
freak show operator showed up promptly and warned that anyone squeamish
should look away. He grabbed a horsewhip from off the wall and uncoiled it.

“Now I ain’t gonna tell ya again, you show yer pretty face for the folks or
I’m gonna rip yer back apart.” The operator warned the Lion Man, but still
he didn’t move.

The boy shut his eyes as he heard the thick sound of leather hitting human
flesh. He had hoped never to hear that noise again, and even though it
wasn’t him being punished, it still made his skin crawl and his reflexes
cringe. The whip came down five solid times then the man returned to his
post. The Lion Man was now facing everyone.

“Oh my! How hideous!” Cried a lady, others had the same reaction, Logan
noticed the man’s green eyes were a bit wet and he was shaking. He looked
normal enough, he didn’t exactly have the head of a lion, or the mane of
one. He was actually a quite handsome fellow.

Then it hit Logan that this man, not a lion, not a freak of nature, not
even hideous, was subjected to this attitude every day of the past ten
years, and be damned if he didn’t feel somewhat responsible for it. After
all, he was on the right side of the cage.

It was darker that midnight as Logan ran through the fields towards the
circus. It must have been pure luck that he caught up with it in the
process of packing up and no later. He found the freak show tent with ease
and stumbled into it without a soul to watch him. He had only a pry bar
with him but he figured it would do the job.

“Why are you here, Logan?” A growl asked him. The adolescent whirled around
in surprise and saw two orbs of light staring at him. He realized they were
the eyes of the Lion Man.

“I…I came to get you out of here.” Logan asserted himself and walked
smoothly over to the cell. He stabbed the metal with his tool and began to
struggle against it. The figure watched for a moment then decided to help.
His strength of one hand aided enormously and the door sprang open in
minutes.

“Alright Logan, now where do we go?” The voice taunted him.

“We get outta here.”

They peered out of the curtain and then made a hasty break for the forest.
Unfortunately they were spotted and a chase ensued with the pursuers on
horseback.

“Wait! I can’t keep up!” Logan called to the blond haired man. The Lion Man
turned and stared at him in the dark, in that moment of hesitation, their
hunters had gained quite a few meters of ground. The man grunted in anger
then threw Logan onto his back and began to run with unnatural speed of a
man that was cramped into a cage for so long.

Logan and the Lion Man had lost the people from the circus with ease after
it seemed all was lost and Logan had told the man he could stay in the barn
for the night.

It was dawn now and Logan shot up in bed when he realized his father would
be up and in the barn in a few minutes, surely he’d see the ‘guest’ and
explode.

***

The barn door creaked open and the Lion Man opened a weary eye to see an
old man standing above him. He held a gun but looked too fragile to carry
it, he must be operating on pure mean, he thought.

The gun’s hammer was drawn back but the Lion Man didn’t seem too
threatened, he heard the thunderous pounds of Logan’s boot heels slamming
into the dirt as he ran like a maniac towards the barn.

“Pa, no!” Logan threw himself in front of the old man’s target. “I told him
he could stay here fer the night!” The old man looked at his son for a
moment then swung the butt of the gun into his head.

“What’cha doin’ dumb things like that for? You think I want a freak on my
property?” Logan was bleeding profusely from the head but still his father
didn’t relent his attack. The butt of the gun was brought down a second
time but the Lion Man caught it and then dug his claws that had earned him
his stage name into the old flesh and torn out the neck.

Logan shimmied against a far away wall and shielded his eyes from the sight
of his father being killed so gruesomely. When it was all done, he dared a
peek and saw the bloodied corpse being dragged out of the barn. Logan
followed.

“You…you killed my pa.” He said breathlessly.

“Sorry.” The Lion Man responded.

“That’s okay.” The other man looked up in surprise. “He was old…not very
nice…”

“Horses are comin’.”

Logan couldn’t hear anything but he assumed that part of being a Lion Man
was having instincts like one. “What do we do?”

“Get yer stuff, we’re leavin’.” He found himself a good-sized stick and
walked into the house and towards the dying fire. He lit it and waited as
Logan wasted time in staring at him. “Get yer stuff, we’re leavin’.” He
repeated. The boy staggered but then ran to his room and began to shove
clothes into a bag.

“You ain’t gonna do what I think you’s gonna do, are ya?” Logan flipped the
bag over his shoulder and stared at the other man in fear. He was answered
when the Lion Man began to torch things with the fire he held. “But this is
my house!” Logan dove at him.

“Let’s go! It’s too late now.” The other man pulled on his arm with
unrealistic strength. Logan blundered out of the house and he could finally
hear the horses, not to mention see them. The duo ran into the trees.

“That was my house. Why did you burn it?” Logan shook his head, not
understanding the logic of destroying the place of so many bad memories.

“It made sense when I did it.” The Lion Man said without much conviction.
He seemed too busy walking through the brush.

Logan sighed loudly then spoke again. “So where’s we goin’?”

“Dunno.” Was his reply.

“Dammit! You don’t even know where yer leadin’ us?” Logan inhaled then
found himself breaking down. The other man stared at him in horror as Logan
cried openly, apparently this wasn’t something he was used to.

“You gonna be okay?” The Lion Man reached out to pat him on the back but
withdrew his attempts as Logan recoiled.

“Sorry, I…I…”

“Yer cryin’.” He told Logan. When Logan couldn’t get a handle on himself,
the man made a suggestion. “Why don’t we camp here fer the night, boy?”

“Don’t call me that, my pa called me that, I didn’t like it then, I sure as
hell don’t like it now.”

“Fair enough.” The other man began clearing away twigs and leaves from a
particular spot.

“So, what do I call you?” Logan sniffled and dropped his bag.

“They calls me Creed.” He replied after a moment of thought.

“Whose ‘they’?” Logan helped gather the brush for a fire as Creed handed it
to him.

“They…I dunno, just ‘they’.” Creed shrugged defensively and went on picking
up sticks.

“Everyone?” Logan pushed.

“Just ‘they’ alright?!” The other man yelled.

“Okay, sorry.” Logan noticed the fangs that lay in the other’s mouth and
decided it would be wise to shut up. Quiet passed for about twenty minutes
until Creed broke it.

“You start on the fire, I’ll go kill somethin’, any preferences?”

“Pheasant is good.” Logan said quietly.

“An’ don’t go wastin’ yer time makin’ the fire all pretty, when we’s done
cookin’, we’s getting’ rid of the remains.” Creed stalked off.

Logan noticed the sun setting behind the trees, their cover not only hid
them from the circus workers, but the sunlight from them. He shivered as
darkness crept up around him and then continued his work on the fire. He
blew on the weak flame he had cultivated from rubbing stalks together but
it was being stubborn as far as catching went. He heard twigs snap behind
him and he twirled around to defend himself.

“You expectin’ somebody else, son?” Creed narrowed his eyes at the boy. He
had purposely made his entrance heard, as not to frighten him, but the damn
kid was as nervous as a rabbit. He held out the dead birds he had run down
to Logan.

“I can’t get the fire to burn.” He took the food from him and tried to
cover up his behavior. Creed shrugged, he ate his dinners raw. He peered at
the flickers of a candle-flame like fire and began to shift it around.

“Wood’s a bit wet, find somethin’ drier.” Creed plopped down beside Logan’s
bag and dug his teeth into the bird flesh. He stopped and stared at the boy
angrily when he noticed him watching with disgust. “Problem?”

“You didn’t even cook it.” Logan whispered as though he was telling the
other man his fly was down.

“Really?” He took another defiant bite. Unsure of what to do, Logan turned
his attention to the fire again.

Somehow, Logan had found his way beside Creed and was now softly snoring
with his head in the other’s lap. Creed didn’t seem to notice the closeness
of his small companion. He busied himself with tracking noises he heard.

His ears perked up at a familiar smell. Gunpowder. He wrapped one of his
clawed hands around Logan’s mouth and shook his head violently. Logan’s
awoke in distress, his eyes bulged and his breathing became labored, Creed
finally removed his hand when Logan’s recognized him.

“They’re here.” His voice was just above a breath.

Creed pulled Logan’ up the tree they had been lying against and toted the
bag along as well. The fire had died and they had already scattered the
pieces around. Now the two were balanced on one branch. They teetered there
for a moment until Logan began to slip. Creed wrapped a protective arm
around the boy and kept his body tight against his lank.

Logan panicked. He couldn’t stand being touched by another man. It made him
violently sick to his stomach, and he could feel the vile coming up his
throat. He began to make gagging noises as the hunters entered their part
of the forest. Creed snapped a palm around his mouth again and this brought
Logan into a bigger panic. He felt the older man’s hot breath against his
cheek and vomited. It ended up being shoved back down his own throat as the
hand that held his mouth tightened on its grip. Logan’s mind swirled. Was
he going to be raped again? Would the man touch him like his father had?
Would he be able to escape?

The hunters passed them by and when Creed was sure they were well gone, he
jumped down out of the tree with Logan in his grasp and removed his hand.

“You vomited on me.” He snarled.

“I…I…you touched me. I don’t like that.” Logan became oriented and stumbled
towards a pond like a drunk.

“You show displeasure by vomiting?” Creed tried not to gag. He noticed
where the boy was heading and dove on him. Logan flailed in a frenzy. “Calm
down! You can’t go wash yerself in that! There might be cottonmouth’s!” He
beat back the struggle the boy put up.

Logan stopped his attempts and tried to calm down, but found he was crying
again. “I don’t like being touched, please get off of me.” He whined. Creed
rolled off of the boy’s warm body and eyed him suspiciously. Should he ask
what’s wrong? Is that what people usually did? He couldn’t find it in is
instincts to ask.

“Could ya stop yer whimperin’ already? We gotta get movin’.” Creed wiped
his hand on the grass and shouldered Logan’s bag.

“I need to clean myself up.” He wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his brown
flannel shirt.

“We’ll find a stream later on.” Creed picked him up by the straps of his
overalls. Logan fidgeted a bit in protest but followed him out of the
clearing.

“I gotta ask, son. Why’d you freak out back there?” Creed sniffed the air
as dawn approached.

“I don’t like being touched.” Logan repeated embarrassed.

“Yeah, I got that. But why’d you flip out over it?” Creed had found them a
stream and began to scrub his hands and face, then removed his torn
button-up shirt and slacks. He waded into the cold Canadian waters and
started to clean himself.

Logan did the same but was much more reluctant in showing his body to the
other. “My ma died when I was real young and my pa had no one to…comfort
him…and he…” He couldn’t continued but Creed seemed to be following his
thought.

“He beat you?” He came out and asked boldly.

“No, well yeah, but he…did somethin’ worse.” Logan crawled out of the
frigid river and found his clothes in the weak light of the morning.

“What’s worse?” Creed apparently didn’t follow after all and was stumped.
He seemed interested in knowing though. That disturbed Logan a bit, he
didn’t want to give the man any ideas and he didn’t want to fall victim to
sexual abuse again.

“I don’t wanna talk no more. I’m still tired.” Logan stalked off moodily
into the forest as Creed stood in the knee-deep waters looking for fish to
catch.

“I got us some trout. I even cooked it for ya.” The Lion Man offered as the
youth wandered back into the new clearing. A fire had been established
while he was gone and the fish spit and sizzled over it. The man had even
thought to add herbs to the pan and decapitate the seafood. It did look
tempting.

Logan sat down and took the food he was offered without so much as a sigh.
It was pretty tasty, but lacked salt or lemon juice. But still, it was
better than raw. Creed seemed to be considering the fish; he had cooked all
of it and didn’t seem to know if it would taste better this new way.

“It’s good.” Logan reassured him quietly. Creed took a bite, chewed it with
thought, then took another. “What are we gonna do?”

Creed blinked and considered the question with a vacant stare. He hadn’t
thought too much about the question. “We find a far away town and you can
get a job.”

“What about you? You just gonna sit on yer hide all day?” Logan smiled.

“I’ll keep on trekking up north.” He shrugged.

“Why don’t you stay?” The boy didn’t understand.

“I don’t wanna stay.” Creed replied defensively.

“Why should I then?” Logan could feel an argument coming on.

“It’s what’s best fer you.”

“You burn down my house, kidnap me, put me in danger, then tell me what’s
good for me?” Logan scoffed.

“You put yerself into these situations, I coulda stayed in my cage.” Creed
growled.

“Yeah, you could’ve. Guess you owe it to me to keep me with you.” Logan
growled back.

“Listen son, you don’t wanna be hangin’ around me. I ain’t paternal, I work
alone, I’m bad news.” Creed snarled back.

“Yeah? You also managed to get yerself stuck in a cage for ten years!”
Logan screamed at him. Creed smacked him with his open palm, tried to avoid
cutting him with his claws but still scratched him across the cheek and
bridge of his nose. The wounds healed almost instantly before his eyes.
Logan saw the surprise in his face and covered his nose.

“You…” Creed pointed openly at him.

“Please, I didn’t do nothin’. I don’t know how I do that, please, don’t
hurt me….” Logan whined and began to get panicky again.

“You’re like me.” Creed uncovered Logan’s face and stared openly.

“Like you?” Logan asked in amazement.

“I can do that too. Can I see yer claws? Yer teeth?” Creed almost fell on
him, looking for features similar to his.

“I don’t got them…please, stop touchin’ me.” Logan squirmed under Creed’s
touch.

“But you heal like me, why ain’t’cha got claws like me too?”

“I dunno, I just don’t.”

The two were silent as they stared at each other.

“There’s a town just over this crest, that’s where you’ll stay from now
on.” Creed said leaving no room for argument, but still Logan tried.

“Why can’t ya stay here?”

“I don’t wanna settle down, I wanna be free. ‘Sides, I can’t stay with
normal people, they don’t like me.”

“I like you.” Logan tried to console.

“But you ain’t normal. You remember that, son. You ain’t normal, you’re
better n’ them. You’re stronger and faster and smarter. You remember that.”
Creed pushed Logan towards the new town and began to leave.
“Will you come and visit me maybe?” Logan asked hopefully.

“No.” Creed said simply and left.

Logan didn’t want to go to the new town, he didn’t want to deal with the
new people. He had no reason to stay, Creed would never come see him, so he
had nothing to tie him to this place. He could trek up north himself and
explore like Creed was, maybe they’d meet up again.

He had no reason not to try and live in this new town either. He walked
down the grassy hillside and into the general store. People were looking at
him funny. Women were laughing, men were sneering. He didn’t smell that
bad, his clothes were reasonable clean. Then he realized for the first
time in his life that he really was different. He left immediately without
turning back.