Lady of the Rings
by Brandy Dewinter and Ellen Hayes
(All rights reserved)
Chapter 23 - What Do I Want To Be When I Grow Up?
Build 5
It didn't seem especially smart to advertise that I now had a car,
that is, an SUV. When I had arrived at the circus I was dead broke
and now I didn't want to explain where the money had come from. Of
course it would come up eventually. I had already decided to say that
I had finally gotten my credit cards replaced, but that could give rise
to all sorts of questions about my background that I didn't want to go
into. With any luck, it wouldn't be much longer before I was on my way
west, anyway. So I just stashed the Jimmy in the parking area and walked
back to the trailer.
About halfway back, I was trying to decide if taking those stupid
heels off and walking barefoot, well, stockingfoot would be preferable.
I was walking in heels about as well as most women by now, I suppose, but
women who had grown up in heels had learned to take along a pair of flats
when they were going to walk very far. Wearing feminine clothes required
learning things in layers and I had barely scratched the surface. When
I finally got back to the trailer I knew I should put on my show outfit
and go mingle with the rubes, but I just put on some jeans and a knit
shirt and started wandering around - well, I was sneaking around because
I was completely out of costume, and I was dodging the crowds, too. I'd
just had enough of condiments and brats and the heat and the stupid,
STUPID clothes for a while, so I was sort of looking for a place to hide
around the back area of the circus.
Things were quiet, it being mid-afternoon. In between the
day-care field trips and the after-work crowds, there were very few
people around. Just perfect in case you needed a little time to
yourself, like I did.
I turned a corner and found out where the big cat trainer, Marsha,
kept the elements of HER act - a whole bunch of cages arranged in a
rough circle, with one or two LARGE felines per cage. I stood still and
watched for a while because this was a lot better than any zoo, or even
a wildlife park. I was really close.
A cross between a growl and a hoarse mew turned my attention to the
side. There was a tiger in a cage staring at me with a sort of
sorrowful look.
"Whatssa matter, huh?" I asked, walking a little closer and holding
out my hand. She sniffed at me, then almost seemed to be sniffing my
ring as I approached the cage.
Inspection complete, she vocalized again. "Hmmm?"
The tiger looked me straight in the face and did it a third time.
It sounded like it was in distress, but I couldn't tell why. I looked
around the inside of its cage, and saw that the water bowl - more like a
trough, actually - was almost completely empty. "Oooh, you poor thing,"
I told her, and she agreed with me.
"Let's see," I mumbled, looking around. Aha, a large bucket. And,
over there should be... a water hose. "We'll get you set in a second," I
told the tiger as I fetched the bucket and went to fill it up.
She kept crying at me as the water gushed into the bucket. I hoped
I could lift it, I realized, as it settled into the mud from the weight.
It turned out that I could, barely, if I used both arms. I hobbled
over, hoisting the bucket between my legs as I tiptoed along, water
sloshing out and soaking my shoes. The tiger's cries got more intense
as I got closer to her cage, but she stopped crying and began pacing
when I got to the cage door. There was a sturdy latch arrangement
holding the door shut, mounted in the only part of the cage that was
solid metal, so I gently put the bucket down and opened it.
I was going to walk into the cage, but the tiger was REALLY
thirsty, and smelled the cool water, and there was no real way I could
hold eight hundred pounds of thirsty feline away from a bucket of water.
She hooked the door open with a paw and started lapping immediately from
the bucket in great huge sloppy licks. Splashing water all over me, of
course. "Hey, you could wait a minute, you know," I mentioned. Slurp
slurp slurp.
"Oh, you idiot," I told myself. The tiger ignored me. "Here,
let's stick THIS inside HERE," I said, lifting the bucket which was
quite a bit lighter than it had been, and trying to move it inside the
cage while the tiger tried to drink out of it at the same time.
Somehow, I managed, I'm not sure how. Then I went back out of the cage
and latched the door shut again and got the hose. It was heavy and
dirty, of course, but at least it was long enough to reach the cage. I
started hosing water into the trough at about the same time the tiger
decided that it was too hard to shove her head into the bucket, so she
knocked it over. "Oh, jeez," I complained as water went everywhere. The
tiger gave me a look like, "Well, YOU'RE the monkey, YOU fix it." At
least she'd knocked it over so that most of it went outside her cage.
"No, you wait," I told her. The water level for the other cats was
kind of low, too, so I went around and gave all of them a refill. Most
of them were appreciative, though one leopard got too eager, got in the
way of the hose and inhaled a snootful of water, then got really pissed.
All of the sudden about four inches of claw was slapping at the bars of
the cage. At least, from a couple of inches away they looked four inches
long. It happened too fast for me even to get scared. Right, just keep
telling yourself that. Still, by the time I realized what was happening,
it was all over and there wasn't any reason I couldn't continue with the
other cats. When I turned back to the tiger, she had figured out that
the water in the trough didn't taste like dirt and she was noisily
lapping it up.
I sighed, then took a drink out of the hose myself. It was sweaty
work, hauling the hose around. I almost took my shirt off, but
remembered before I did more than reach for the hem. *This girl thing
is a pain in the butt,* I decided. Again.
I had to look around for a while to find a broom to brush the
water out of the tiger's cage, but by the time I found one, the water had
either dried off or soaked into the dirt. "Well," I said, sticking my
hands on my hip handles, "now what?"
Now, I guess, I went to find a place to relax that I wouldn't be
bothered.... No, now I had to get the overturned bucket out of the
tiger cage. I sighed, and unlatched the cage again, slipping inside to
reach for the bucket. I had just picked it up when I heard an ominous
click. I looked up, and the stupid tiger had just shut the door firmly.
"Oh, no."
I was sure I could open it from the inside. I mean, it would be
pretty stupid to design a latch a monkey couldn't open just to keep a
tiger penned up, but it was behind a solid panel and working backwards
by feel on a latch I had barely glanced at when I *could* see it got real
frustrating real fast. "You shit-for-brains," I said idly to the tiger,
who looked back like she could almost understand the language but didn't
know the insulting words.
"Rrrrrr?" she asked, and walked towards me. I couldn't pull my
arms back inside the cage before she slammed her head into my hip and
rubbed, almost knocking me down and breaking my arm at the same time. I
ended up sitting down rather abruptly anyway, but with all my bones
intact.
She put one paw between my legs and did the same thing to my face.
Then she licked me.
"Would you STOP?" I complained, trying to wipe tiger spit off my
eyes. She looked as though she hadn't expected the taste of makeup.
"Pretty awful, isn't it?" I mentioned as her tongue flickered in and out
as if she could shake the taste off.
I sighed, trying to think of whether I should call for help or not,
so I wasn't really watching the tiger - for some reason, I was watching
my shoes instead - when she came in and gave me another love rub.
"What, you're lonely?" I asked. That I could understand, so I started
scratching that special place, directly between her ears and further
posterior, that they can never reach and ALWAYS itches.
She was properly appreciative. Luckily, I had no body parts
underneath her when she flopped down on the ground next to me, purring.
It sounded like a diesel idling.
That went on until my arms were about to fall off, when she finally
rolled over and went to sleep.
Right against the door to the cage. So let's see, should I go over
and kick 800 pounds of teeth and claws to get it to move out of the way,
or let her sleep? She'd been pretty docile, but the lesson of the
leopard was that these kitties could turn deadly in a nanosecond.
I sighed, shaking the cramps out of my arms, pulled my flute
case out of the thigh pocket and started assembling it.
The first few notes woke her up. but she just watched for a little
bit, then put her head back down and went back to sleep.
I suppose I was lucky that the first person to come looking for
the source of my music was the Colonel. I think most of the circus
people would have panicked at the sight of a girl stuck in a tiger cage,
but he just paused when he rounded the corner, then left. Playing my
flute was at least as soothing for me as it was for the tiger and it
didn't bother me to be left while he worked out something sensible. When
he came back a few minutes later, he had Marsha with him, and Crazy Ivan
to hold back the anyone else who might wander by. They approached the
cage slowly until they could talk quietly with me.
Marsha wanted to hiss some frantic message, but the Colonel put his
hand on her arm and spoke instead, "You know, Brittany, somehow this
doesn't surprise me. I'm sure there is some explanation that would seem
entirely impossible coming from anyone but you."
Then he asked with a smile, "Would you like some help getting out of
the cage?"
Well, screw him. I didn't need condescension.
"Why?" I asked simply. Hah! That got their attention.
It was too much for Marsha, she hissed, "What are you doing in the
cage with my Sasha?"
Sasha the tiger. Geez, if that's the best she could do, it's no
wonder she couldn't keep up with watering them.
"Playing my flute," I answered lightly.
The Colonel gave me a complicated look that would have been
confusing without the extra insight from his aura. It was about equal
part amusement and some sort of creative buzz that showed he was getting
one of his "special" ideas. That was enough to get me moving again. Now
I had a real reason to escape from the cage.
So I explained, "She needed water, and I started with the bucket
while I was filling her trough with the hose. When I tried to get the
bucket back, she got between me and the door."
"See, I told you it would seem reasonable," the Colonel said. "Of
course, not many girls would climb in a cage with a tiger, but somehow
that doesn't seem to be a problem for you."
"No, not really, but I suppose you'll want me to start getting ready
for my act," I replied.
That sent a spike into his aura that I should have paid more
attention to.
I saw Marsha get some sort of whip thing, more like a buggy whip
than a real lash. It had a long, springy rod with only a few inches
of tassel on the end. But I didn't want her prodding my tiger with it
when I was in the cage.
"Sasha," I called out, "time to wake up."
I stood up in the cage and walked over to resume my rubbing behind
her ears. She grunted like a big old sow and deigned to open one eye.
I swear, she grinned at me; not a mouth-full-of-teeth threat, just a
little parting of her lips in something that had to be a smile. I tugged
gently at the ear I had been scratching and urged her to move.
She rolled to her feet easily enough, but she had to go through the
standard cat stretch before she'd actually move. I kept one eye on
Marsha and her stupid whip to make sure she didn't get in a hurry while I
rubbed Sasha's flanks and smoothed the fur that had gotten matted in the
dampness from the spilled bucket. When she was ready, Sasha sauntered
over to the water trough again, and I picked up the bucket on my way to
the door.
"Are you going to make me open it, or will you?" I asked Marsha.
"Huh? What, oh, sure," she said, with conversational skills as
brilliant as I had come to expect from all her actions.
In a second, I was out of the cage and putting the bucket back
where I had found it.
I tried to just give them a quick wave and move on, but the Colonel
was too sharp for that.
"Brittany, could I talk with you for a moment?" he asked. Then he
turned to Marsha and said, "Try to keep their water troughs filled in
this heat."
She started bustling about her charges while the Colonel touched
my elbow lightly to guide me away. Instead of heading back toward the
midway, though, he escorted me even further into the quiet back part of
the grounds.
"Are you satisfied with being an assistant in the dog act?" he
asked.
"Um, sure," I answered. A sinking feeling came over me as I watched
his aura light up with his enthusiasm for his "special" idea.
"Wouldn't you rather have a bigger part, even a starring role?" he
pressed.
Before I could even answer, he asked yet another question, "Have you
ever been to one of those theme park things where they do adventure
shows?"
This time I got in a quick head nod before he rolled on, "I've been
thinking we should do something like that. Instead of a standard circus
act where we string a bunch of tricks together, we could do a sort of
stunt show with a running plot line. Seeing you with that tiger got me
to thinking about you being some sort of captive princess, with maybe
Vasily as your heroic rescuer. Ivan can be the ogre who has captured
you, and Sasha can be guarding you. Then, after you're released from
your chains, or cage, or whatever, you can help fight your way to free-
dom. Can you handle a sword as well as you do your staff? What do you
think?"
I found myself nodding my head in response to his question about the
sword before I absorbed his question about the whole idea. He took that
as agreement with everything.
"Great! I'll get Sarah to work up some costume ideas. You and
Vasily can start working up some stunts. We can have it ready to try
out by the time we get to Charleston, if we get right on it."
That pulled me up short.
"Oh, no, we can't do that!" I blurted out.
"Huh, why not?"
"I, um, well, I wasn't planning on staying with the circus when you
go to Charleston."
"You weren't?"
God, watching the emotions play through his aura made me feel like
shit. The Colonel truly loved the circus, not just his, the whole idea
of a circus; bringing fantasy happiness to people. He had a true
leader's enthusiasm for his ideas, enthusiasm that could lift the
followers beyond their self-imposed limits, and it was almost painful to
see that falter.
"I'm sorry, Colonel, but I had planned to head west when the circus
leaves Atlanta," I declared.
I could see a host of questions brimming behind his eyes, but
instead of challenging me, he just paused for a moment. When he spoke,
it was with calm respect, "Well, Brittany, you have to do what you feel
you must. Would you at least think about it?"
That was an easy way to defuse the tension, so I nodded.
"I'm still going to talk with Sarah and Vasily," he declared, then
continued with a smile, "and I'll tell you now, if they like the idea,
I'll try to get them to convince you."
I smiled back, but no one was going to make me do anything I didn't
want to do, except for Andreas the Abominable.
The Colonel left to go about running his circus, but instead of
following him I just stood there lost in thought.
If someone had told me, back when I was Steve, that I'd be offered
the chance to be a star in a circus stunt show, complete with tigers and
sword fights and whatever, I'd have struck at that idea like a hungry
shark. I could see now that the training Andreas had allowed me might
as well have been pointed at exactly that set of skills. At the time, it
had just seemed appropriate for some unspecified quest, but I realized
that a big part of my selection had been based on interest as well. I
truly liked swinging a sword and doing flashy martial arts moves. And
I'd always had a special love for animals. Back when I was Steve, this
would have been perfect.
Of course, that was the problem. I wasn't Steve any longer. The
only way to get my real body back was to turn my back on this offer. I
could have my dream job, as a girl, or who knows what struggles to
complete my quest and become a man again. And I'd have to get through
the quest as a girl anyway. Damn that Andreas. Did this quest have to
include emotional hurdles as well as the physical ones, and the
intellectual ones, and the . . .?
Even asking that question showed the answer. Of course it did. He
was going to challenge me as thoroughly as he could, and in all areas,
before I was finished. Still, I knew I could do it. Really. Deep down
where my heart lived I knew I had the skills and the drive and the deter-
mination to complete the quest. But did I want to pay the price? Just
how bad did I hate being a girl?
"Bad enough," I said out loud. To no one. Who was I trying to
convince?
No one answered that question either, but it was time to go get
ready for the evening show. I was a bit late, actually, so the other
girls had already finished dressing and the trailer was empty when I
arrived. A few hurried minutes, most of which was spent replacing the
makeup that Sasha had removed, and I was on my own way to the backstage
area. It was there that I got my first inking that an offer of a
starring role in a new act was not my only "reward" for my time in the
tiger cage. I got a new nickname out of it as well.
As I walked toward where Tom was waiting with the dogs, I heard a
drawn out "Mrraowrr" from where Vic, the backstage manager, was standing
with a few other guys. When I looked, though, they were all wearing
expressions as innocent as any lamb ever born. I was about to teach
them what tigers did to lambs, when our cue music came up and I had to
join Tom. The whole time we were shuffling props I heard low "Meow"s
and "prrrrrr"s and other animal sounds that gave a whole new meaning
to the concept of catcalls. This, of course, made me quite relaxed and
calm when I had to go out in front of a zillion screaming rubes who had
always been, um, appreciative of my scanty show costume.
Afterwards was about the same, though Vic was more concerned with
the act coming up than the ones just finished so his particular brand
of "humor" was absent. It was actually worse in one way, though.
Before our show Tom Highland was so focused on the act that he hadn't
been paying much attention. Once we were done he realized what was
going on, and although he didn't join in, his efforts to stifle his
own laughter became obvious enough to be a major source of irritation.
It was clear that he knew the reason for the teasing. I figured everyone
in the circus and nine surrounding counties must have heard of it.
Finally, we finished cleaning up the dogs and I could escape to
the trailer. Which wasn't really an escape. When I got in most of
the girls were there, hissing quick whispers to each other to be quiet as
I stepped inside. Like a choreographed dance line, they parted to form
an aisle from me to Amber.
She was standing there, holding a saucer with milk, and as soon as
she knew I was looking, said, "Here, Britty, Britty, Britty."
My intentions must have shown on my face, because hers paled and she
turned to the tiny sink and dumped the milk. That was her mistake,
because she might have wanted to save that lubrication for when I put
the saucer where it would do the most good.
I was accelerating even as I started widening my stance into something
that would give me some good leverage, when Kirsten gave out this comic-
opera "FsszzZTTT!" and started waving her hands around, fingers curled
up to look like claws. That was going to earn her round two.
Or it would have, except for some reason it set Julie off into a
full-bodied belly laugh, "Bwahahaha!!" Quiet, meek, polite, Julie. Even
in my mood, I hesitated at the idea of killing someone so blasted nice.
It certainly distracted me for a second. Kim, always close to humor
anyway, ended up joining in at about the second "ha" and in a heartbeat
the whole trailer was either fsszztt-ing at each other or laughing.
Everyone except for Amber and me, that is.
I didn't see what was so funny about everyone acting like I was
Catgirl or something. But, I'd be damned if I'd let myself be part of
group with no one else but Amber so I pulled up from my charge and stood
looking at her for a second. I took a deep breath, which seemed to suck
the volume out of everyone else's noise, and then I made as if I were
stroking long whiskers coming from my cheeks. Actually, it was more of a
Simon Legree mustache twirl than a cat grooming.
"Remind me sometime, Amber, to discuss with you how VERY much I
appreciate your sense of humor," I said with a throaty purr. Then I
turned away before she had a chance to say anything.
And that's where my new nickname came from. After that, at least
among the girls, I was likely to be called, "Britty." Usually as part
of a triplet as in, "Hey, Brittybrittybritty, have you seen my hairbrush?"
Words are not adequate to express how happy that made me.
In a way, though, the whole incident was one of those good-news,
bad-news things. The bad news was that I had been stupid enough to get
trapped in a tiger cage. The good news was that I was cool enough to
handle the tiger that shared the cage with me. It was actually a sort
of watershed point for me with most of the members of the circus.
Before, I had been the assistant in the dog act with primary
qualifications limited to good-looking legs and a scanty costume. Now,
people realized that I had abilities at the level of true circus stars,
especially once word of the Colonel's hoped-for stunt show got around.
It was a heady feeling to be actually respected by performers who
had unbelievable skills. It showed in lots of little ways. Now when
I went to the cafeteria tent, I received welcoming smiles from headline
performers I hardly knew, people whose names and faces showed on the
posters I had been trying to peddle back in Pensacola. For someone who
had always been a loner, always struggling to prove myself to the cliques
that seemed out of reach to a scrawny geek who spent too much time with
animals, it was a siren song of compelling invitation.
All I had to give up to listen to it, were my hopes of regaining my
manhood.
(
geocities.com/b_dewinter)