Freaks and Fortune

"What do you think you're doing?" a voice barked, slightly accented in what sounded soft and warm and foreign. The contrast of the honeyed tone and the harsh intonation startled me.

I lugged open the door to the shed where the shovel and other supplies were. Without turning to look at the owner of the sharp voice, I scoffed: "What’s your problem?”

There was a slight pause in which I hoped whoever it was had just walked away. I scrounged around in the shed and clanged the sturdy shovel into the wheelbarrow.

“I asked you a question,” the voice came again, sounding offended. “What are you doing?”
“What’s is look like I’m doing, dumbass?”

I dragged the wheelbarrow and shovel out of the shed, closing my eyes against the screeching sound the wheel-stoppers made against the concrete. Someone took me by the shoulders and roughly whorled me around. I gasped and stumbled against the strong grip.

I was suddenly face-to-face with an Indian man of intimidating height and a slim, athletic build. His skin was the color of toffee and he had a shock of messy, inky black hair. I raised my eyes to his irate face and was surprised to find that he was actually a boy of about my age, maybe a year or two older. His liquid brown eyes were narrowed in anger at me.

“I’ve never seen you before,” he accused, managing to glower and remain frightfully cold at the same time. “What are you doing here?”

This close to him, I could see the full detail of his hair. The right side was bleached white-blond and streaked fantastically with red and gold. The contrast to the left side, stark black, was eccentric and slightly enthralling.

“You’re hurting me,” I spat, with more venom than I actually felt.
He dug his fingers deeper into my shoulders. “I would know if a new roustabout was working this close to my elephants. I'd have been told the minute I got back from vacation.”
“Obviously some wires got crossed here because I’ve been mucking out the elephant cages for about a week and you’re hurting me.”
“Anthony would tell me if there were any new roustabouts working this close to my elephants,” he reiterated angrily. “I would know.”
“Look, guy, let go of me and maybe we’ll talk.”
He seethed silently for a moment and then, with great effort, dropped his hands. “If you were sent here by a Freak-”
“Gross, no. I’m a lowly roustabout. Nothing to hide.” He gave me a searching look. “Can I do my work now?”

His mouth was curved into a small frown. An agitated crease formed in the middle of his forehead.

"Just..." he muttered, raking his hand through the colored part of his hair. “I don't care."
"Sure thing, Boss-man,” I quipped dryly and kicked the door of the shed closed.

A thought occurred to me.

“Hey!”
He turned.
“Are you the Acrobat? Ravi… whatever your name is. Hastin? Ravi Hastin, the one on the posters?”

He looked at me for a moment, as if to insult me mentally, and then scowled and walked away, pulling his hand once more through his electric hair. His black tank top set itself against the richness of his skin, and I could see sweat glistening on his back from the hot sun.

I wanted to shout something witty at him as he walked away, something about elephants or his being an acrobat, but I couldn’t think of anything. Soon after, I could hear his deceivingly mellifluous voice chastising the roustabout who was washing one of the baby elephants. I could see him down in the ring, his arms waving above his head, as I pushed the wheelbarrow over the hay-strewn floor.

-_-_-_-

The day passed in a droopy haze of heat. Three hours after I had begun, I was done with all but one of the elephant cages. My hands were red and raw from the many trips I'd taken with the wheelbarrow to load off the dung. My lower back was stinging from being stooped over for so long.

I thought of my bed. I thought of a quick nap before lunch. I thought of the errands I’d have to run for other people after lunch and decided to stop thinking. I was taking this whole thing one day at a time. After all, there was hardly any room for a new girl, let alone a pampered one.

“You’re doing it wrong.”

My heart was suddenly beating harder in my chest. I closed my eyes and set my teeth, trying to restrain myself from yelling at my boss.

“Go play with your elephants,” I ended up barking. At least I’d tried.
"Hello? Did you hear me? You're doing it all wrong."

I whipped around, insult stinging on my tongue, but instead of the Acrobat, I was met with a different face. This boy didn’t look too much older than I was, but then again, boys always tend to look older than they are. Tall and slim, with his dark brown hair slicked to the side. His high cheekbones made him look almost feminine.

"What…”

He reached down to his hips and took hold of a pair of black suspenders that were hanging there loosely. With a charming grin, he hooked a thumb under each strap and pulled them taught. Then, with a snap, he let go and secured them around his shoulders.

“There’s a method to madness, you know,” he said, cocking his head to the side. “Need help?”
“No,” I uttered, confused. “Just go away.”
“Aye-aye,” he sighed. He pushed up the sleeves of his white button-up shirt, turned sharply on his heel, and waltzed away, humming an off-key version of the theme song to Gilmore Girls.