Pantomime by Laura Lam

sent my head spinning and the tent grew dim, warm, and fuzzy.
     
    I woke to find myself in our cart and Arik applying a cooling salve to my hands. "How long have I been here?"
      "Most of the day."
      I emerged that evening, bruised and shamed. That night, Bil stepped in.
      "You may think you're clever clowns," Bil said after the show and carnival.
      "I am a clever clown!" the green clown, Rian, called out.
      "Shut it." Bil glowered. "But if anyone pulls a stunt that costs me any equipment, men, or money, then you're out. I don't give a tinker's damn who you are. You're out with no pay and no reference." He slapped his teak cane on the ground for emphasis. He did not look at me as he spoke.
      But while his words stopped the pranks, they only heightened the resentment. And that night, my pack went missing.
      I searched the cart, and it was not there. My heart pattered in my chest. I tried to keep my breathing steady and stay calm as I rifled through my bedclothes. It was not anywhere.
      In my pack there was the Kedi figurine, a strange possession for a teenage boy. More importantly, there was also a dress, and a rambling letter to Cyril I had not sent because it was not in code, signed with "your loving sister, Gene." I bashed my fist on my pallet, angry at myself for being so foolish. My mouth felt dry.
      My bandaged hands had stopped burning. I walked along the beach to gather my thoughts, barefoot in the sand as the afternoon lengthened to evening. I climbed a dune, the long blades of beach grass tickling my ankles in the wind. The air smelled of brine and smoke. The wind was chill and I shivered beneath my thin, patched coat. The sun disappeared over the sea.
      I turned and looked toward the city. The ridge of Penglass had almost disappeared in the gloom. But as the darkness increased, the Penglass grew brighter, glowing first a dark midnight-blue, and then brightening to a luminous sapphire. Penglass only glowed on the night of the full moon. The light transformed the city of Sicion from a dreary, soot-stained sandstone city to something magical.
      I stared at the glowing Penglass for a long time before climbing back down to the beach, my thoughts tumbling around in my mind. It felt as though I had only just joined the circus, but I would soon be heading home. Jive had probably taken my pack as a prank, and he would not hesitate to rifle through my belongings. Empty shells crunched beneath my feet. The sea foam of the dark water lapped around my ankles.
      I wondered why I was letting them treat me this way, and why I did not simply take this as a sign that I was meant to return home. There, I did not practice tumbling and climbing until my hands were blistered and raw. I did not wake up from a clean, feather-down bed with my muscles feeling like they had been torn and sewn inexpertly together by a drunken surgeon. My life had not been perfect and had its own challenges, but I had so many who cared for me.
      I missed Cyril with a sharp pang each and every day. I had written letters but there was no way for him to respond. Perhaps I should leave and return. Perhaps my running away would have proven to my parents that I would not allow them to change my life and they would leave me be.
      Leave me be to be a spinster, tolerated in society but always just outside of it, pitied, and always under my parent's roof. And if they died before me, I would be a burden on Cyril. As a Laurus, I would have no way to support myself through employment, unless I became a governess or turned to writing or teaching, neither of which I thought would be my true calling. At least in the circus I had the freedom to be myself, even if most of the others did not seem to like me overmuch. I kicked a stone into the water.
      I heard the padding of running feet and turned. Aenea caught up with me. She had just bathed, and her hair hung in dark ropes against her skin. She wore a thin silken robe from Linde,