Freaks and Fortune
01
One of the last things my mother said to me before I left was, "Fortune favors the brave."
It wasn't said to me, exactly. It was barked, rather, to Nathan, our pool boy, as he knocked down mud-dobbers from the roof of our cabanna with a large stick. He was stung several times by angry wasps, naturally, but he had hesitated. He hadn't been brave.
I closed my eyes against the cloud of dust that billowed out from the back tires of the rusty red Sedan. I coughed, walked forward a few steps, and then stopped when I remembered that I was paralyzed with nervousness. The dust cleared and all that was left of my last connection to civilization had sputtered away, leaving behind a gust of exhaust and the faint smell of gasoline.
I had just run away from home. Bravely, of course.
A hot, giddy feeling had been gathering in my chest for some time now, forming a sort of shaky bubble.
I had just ran away from home.
I had ignored the gut-twisting feeling when I'd secretly purchased the plane ticket with my mother's credit card. I had ignored it on the flight here from Florida. I had ignored it when, upon arriving at the airport, I found out that my so-called "chauffeur" was a drifter who had been paid twenty dollars to pick me up.
I had just ran away from home.
There was no proverbial deep breath or moment of intense clarity as the bubble in my chest burst and poured forth into my stomach. There wasn't a sudden realization that everything was going to be okay and that I would be fine. There was only me, Ivy Bailey, my single bag of belongings, and the dirt road that led up to the awful, flamboyant circus tent where I would be working for the entire summer.
I felt like I was in space. I felt like I was slowly oozing along across planets and stars, like I was forever trapped in infinity. I felt free, and yet horribly, horribly scared.
I tried to think about fortune favoring the brave, but it was difficult to process thought through the intense sweating of my palms.The tent was large and scary and yellow, with a rainbow of swirling colors at the pointed top. Beyond that, a field - a fairground - with booths on wheels and collapsable stands offering various forms of food and games.
Piccadilly's Family Circus and Carnival.
The oddity of it struck me, the whole "running away to the circus" business. And, for a second, I actually believed that I stood a chance.
It wasn't said to me, exactly. It was barked, rather, to Nathan, our pool boy, as he knocked down mud-dobbers from the roof of our cabanna with a large stick. He was stung several times by angry wasps, naturally, but he had hesitated. He hadn't been brave.
I closed my eyes against the cloud of dust that billowed out from the back tires of the rusty red Sedan. I coughed, walked forward a few steps, and then stopped when I remembered that I was paralyzed with nervousness. The dust cleared and all that was left of my last connection to civilization had sputtered away, leaving behind a gust of exhaust and the faint smell of gasoline.
I had just run away from home. Bravely, of course.
A hot, giddy feeling had been gathering in my chest for some time now, forming a sort of shaky bubble.
I had just ran away from home.
I had ignored the gut-twisting feeling when I'd secretly purchased the plane ticket with my mother's credit card. I had ignored it on the flight here from Florida. I had ignored it when, upon arriving at the airport, I found out that my so-called "chauffeur" was a drifter who had been paid twenty dollars to pick me up.
I had just ran away from home.
There was no proverbial deep breath or moment of intense clarity as the bubble in my chest burst and poured forth into my stomach. There wasn't a sudden realization that everything was going to be okay and that I would be fine. There was only me, Ivy Bailey, my single bag of belongings, and the dirt road that led up to the awful, flamboyant circus tent where I would be working for the entire summer.
I felt like I was in space. I felt like I was slowly oozing along across planets and stars, like I was forever trapped in infinity. I felt free, and yet horribly, horribly scared.
I tried to think about fortune favoring the brave, but it was difficult to process thought through the intense sweating of my palms.The tent was large and scary and yellow, with a rainbow of swirling colors at the pointed top. Beyond that, a field - a fairground - with booths on wheels and collapsable stands offering various forms of food and games.
Piccadilly's Family Circus and Carnival.
The oddity of it struck me, the whole "running away to the circus" business. And, for a second, I actually believed that I stood a chance.
♠ ♠ ♠
Very short. That's how these first ones always are.I'll get the next few out in the next few days. (Who else is wondering when House is coming back? Jeez, let us know about Wilson already!)