The Midnight Circus | Teen Ink

The Midnight Circus

June 4, 2015
By Isobel Kelly BRONZE, Belfast, Maine
Isobel Kelly BRONZE, Belfast, Maine
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

“Sebby, come on. Your grammy wants to go with you.”
Sebastian bit the inside of his cheek. “What’s the point, though?” He waved a hand in front of his eyes. “Dad, I’m blind. You can say that, it’s not a bad word. Why should I go if I can’t see it or anything?”
“She’s pretty excited. Don’t you want to have fun with her?” asked Dad.
“Uh, no.” Sebastian pulled off his glasses. “I’m almost ten. Isn’t that old enough to make my own choices? Why don’t you just go with her yourself?”
“Seb. You’re going. She’s old and pretty weak. She might not be hanging around a lot longer, and she loves you,” Dad said firmly. “Put your glasses back on, she’ll be here in a minute.”
“Yes, Dad,” Sebastian said, sarcasm dripping heavily from his words as he slid his glasses back over his eyes. He grabbed his book from the table to read, because this was going to bore him to death.
The ride there was uncomfortable.
“Grammy, I don’t want to go,” Sebastian said, the first thing after greeting her in the car.
Grammy laughed.
“It’s not funny,” said Sebastian, gritting his teeth. “It’s stupid and I hate it and it’s not fair.”
“I’m not laughing at you, love,” Grammy said, a smile in her voice. “I’m laughing because the Circus is a magical place. You don’t know what you’re in for.”
“It’s just a bunch of dumb animals and some clowns, right?” Sebastian asked, his voice a monotone.
Another laugh. “Sebby, Sebby, Sebby. This isn’t a normal Circus. That’s why we’re not going right now. It’s only evening.”
“Huh?” Sebastian closed his book.
“This is the Midnight Circus. I’ve only been once, when I was a little girl. It goes everywhere, and as soon as it’s here, it’s gone. It’s in the middle of the night, and it’s so strange and unnerving and you’re so tired from staying up to see it that you never know if it’s real or just a dream,” Grammy said, her voice hushed.
Sebastian was listening now. Shivers ran through him. “Yeah?”
“I knew it was real, all these years I knew,” Grammy went on, excitement sparking around her words. “And now it’s back!”
Sebastian bit his lip, a smile creeping across his face. “So where are we going now, to buy time?”
Grammy laughed, a sound so full of life she was almost a little girl again. “Ah, Sebby. I knew you’d come around.”
They’d had dinner at some restaurant and stopped at Grammy’s house for a coat, and now they were here. They’d had to walk through a woodsy path to a field surrounded by trees, a walkway illuminated by hanging lanterns, casting a dark glow. In the middle of the clearing stood the circus tent. The strange part was that Sebastian never realized there was a woods like this in Throggs Neck. And, he reasoned, there probably wasn’t. But then where were they?
Grammy pulled him along, as excited as he was, to seats in the second row.
Sebastian could hear the excited whispers of people around them, and, to his surprise, they were mostly old voices. Maybe these people had seen the Circus long ago, just like Grammy.
Someone stepped out onto the wooden stage, his shoe heels clicking on the polished floor. When he spoke, his voice wasn’t loud or obnoxious like most Circus announcers. It was deep and resonant, and quiet. “Welcome.”
The audience was silent.
“The Midnight Circus has been waiting for you. I hope everything fits your fancy here. We’ve worked rather hard on it. For years and years. This is the first time we’ve been back after a bit of a long pause. But I won’t keep you. I won’t let anything else stop you from seeing-” He paused. “or hearing - the Circus. Enjoy.”
Sebastian tugged at Grammy, shivers reeling up and down his spine. He whispered, “How- how did he know-”
She just placed a finger over his mouth and tilted his head back towards the stage.
The man was gone, his steps having clicked away and offstage.
Then, the show began.
Sebastian heard the swirl of thick, old dresses, spinning round and round in a midnight dance, the click of the men’s shoes in time with the slow, dark violin accompaniment. He heard the soprano voice of a woman singing a haunting melody that went up and down the minor scales like someone running to escape their fate. Suddenly, there was silence. Then, a burst of sound, the classic Circus organ, and something whipping through the air.
The acrobats curled themselves through the skies of the tent, out of control, and they must be about to fall! But all Sebastian heard was the continuance of the same swoops, and they were fine. It was all part of the act.
The music was like a nightmare, but excitement rushed through Sebastian as he took off his glasses. He heard every move the performers made, each one of them forming in his mind.
Then, the acrobats whipped offstage, and on came more entertainers. Knife-throwers, handstanders riding horses, a woman who folded herself into and out of a trunk, more dancers, and all the while, the music got louder and more erratic.
Sebastian began to feel other things brewing, threatening to usurp his joy. Fear bubbled inside of him, the music and the performers chiding it on. The Circus was too strange, too old. He tugged on Grammy’s sleeve, but she wasn’t paying attention.
She was looking straight ahead, focused, presumably, on the performance.
He wanted to stand up and leave, but something told him that if he walked out the tent flap, he’d never be able to find his way through the woods back to Grammy’s car. After all, he’d firmly made up his mind that the path they took, and the clearing they were in right at this very moment, weren’t real.
A new panic grabbed Sebastian. If it wasn’t real, then where was he? How could he be here? What if they were trapped here forever?
Just as he was about to scream at Grammy to look at him, at anything but the Circus, and to get out of there, everything stopped.
The whooshes and thunks and twirls and taps were gone, and the only noise was the padded steps of the performers, treading slowly off the stage.
Sebastian sighed, enormously relieved. He now only heard his own heart hammering against the walls of his chest, and he tried to convince himself that it was over.
One more sound from up on stage reached him.
Sebastian froze, a chill setting in. He realized, however, that part of him wanted to hear more of the Midnight Circus. Part of him could sit here forever, enchanted by it.
But the noise was nothing more than the familiar click… click… click… of the announcer’s slow steps.
“What a night,” the deep, dark voice said.
Even though it had unnerved Sebastian at the beginning of the Circus, now it sounded homely.
“But, sadly, every night must give way to morning,” the announcer continued. “And, also sadly, I must bid you all goodbye. For some of you here, this is your last trip to the Circus. That dampens my heart, for sure. But for others, young ones, I know I’ll be seeing you again. Just not for a while. So, adieu. Fair hearts, brave hearts. Thank you. We aren’t a Circus without an audience. And we must be a Circus, now and forever. Fare thee well, dearly beloveds. Good Midnight.”
The man’s clicks brought him back offstage.
Sebastian slowly got up, putting his glasses back on. “Grammy?”
“Yes, Sebby?” Grammy said. Her trance was broken.
“Was it like you remembered it?”
Grammy sighed. “Almost exact. Ah, but we should be going. You need sleep, even if it’s only a bit.”
She ushered him up and towards the tent’s exit. They were almost there when a voice called them back.
The announcer. “Sebastian! Sebastian, wait!”
Sebastian turned towards the voice. Without explanation, a hand grabbed his wrist and a spark shocked him, as if the hand was attached to a live wire instead of a body.
“Ow!” Sebastian pulled his arm away. “What did you do?”
The announcer sighed, getting his breath back, which he lost running after them. “I almost didn’t catch you there. Thank goodness I reached you in time.”
“I-I don’t understand,” Sebastian said, almost wanting to cry. It was late, though. He passed it off for being too tired. “In time for what?”
“The Midnight Circus never loses a performer, Sebastian,” the announcer said. “But we certainly get new ones. Once in a while. If you could have seen all of my little dancers and gymnasts out there, you would have noticed a mark on their forearms. Little, black, passes off as a tattoo. But it’s not.”
Sebastian heard the announcer’s knees touch the ground and he knew the man was eye level now, looking at him.
The low voice continued. “It’s a brand. I’ve chosen them for the Circus.”
In horror, Sebastian felt his arm.
“I’ve chosen you, too,” said the announcer softly. “I’ll collect you in a few years, once you’re fully grown.”
“No,” Sebastian said, his chest tightening up and tears burning the backs of his eyes. “No, no! Grammy!” He tugged on her sleeve.
“It’s not real, don’t be silly!” she told him firmly.
“I thought it was about time for a new act,” said the announcer. “'The Blind Man who can See', now how about that?”
“No!” screamed Sebastian, pushing the man away from him. “No!”
Grammy sighed. “Come on, Sebby. I think you’ve stayed up a bit too late. Let’s go home.” She pulled him out of the tent, wiping his tears on her skirt. “Plus,” she added. “This is just a dream so it doesn’t really matter, right?”
And it was just that, a dream, for years. Sebastian never really remembered any of it, just flashes of the music, or one word in the announcer’s silky smooth voice. But, all good things come to an end, and so did the time allowed before Sebastian needed to return to the Circus. He couldn’t escape it any longer.
And, in the end, the announcer was right.
A new act was just what they needed.



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