Tiger's Curse (The Tiger Saga #1)(4)
What exactly does one wear to a circus job? Not knowing what was appropriate, I tugged on a short-sleeved T-shirt and a good pair of work jeans. Then, I slipped my feet into tennis shoes, toweled dry my hair, and wove it into a quick French braid that I tied off with a blue ribbon. Next, I applied some lip gloss, and voilà, my circus primping was complete.
Time to pack. I figured I wouldn’t need to bring much, just a couple of things to make me comfortable since I would only be at the circus for two weeks and could always make a pit stop at home. I rifled through my closet and selected three outfits, which were hung neatly and orga-nized by color, before pulling open my dresser drawers. I grabbed a few sock balls, which were also meticulously arranged by color, and shoved everything into my trusty school backpack. Then I stuffed in some pens and pencils, a few books, my journal, some toi-letries, my wallet, and the pictures of my family. I rolled up my quilt, stuffed it in the top, and jiggled the zipper until it shut.
Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I headed downstairs. Sarah and Mike were already awake and eating breakfast. They woke up insanely early every day to go running. That was just crazy, and at 5:30 a.m. they were already done.
I mumbled, ‘Hey, good morning, guys.’
Mike said, ‘Hey, good morning back. So, are you ready to start the new job?’
‘Yeah. I get to sell tickets and hang around a tiger for two weeks. Great, huh?’
He chuckled. ‘Yep, sounds pretty great. More interesting than Public Works anyway. Want a lift? I drive right past the fairgrounds on my way into town.’
I smiled at him. ‘Sure. Thanks, Mike. I’d love a ride,’ I replied.
Promising to call Sarah every few days, I grabbed a granola bar, quickly forced myself to gulp down half a glass of their soy milk – barely containing my gag reflex – and headed out the door with Mike.
At the fairgrounds, a big, blue sign posted on the street advertised upcoming events. A large slick banner read
Here we go. I sighed and started walking along the gravel path toward the main building. The central complex looked like a large airplane or military bunker. The paint was cracked and peeling in places, and the windows needed to be washed. A large American flag snapped and rolled in the breeze as the chain it was attached to clinked softly against the metal flagpole.
The fairground was an odd cluster of old buildings, a small parking lot, and a dirt path that wound between everything and around the border of the grounds. A pair of long, flatbed trucks were parked alongside several white canvas tents. Circus posters hung everywhere; there was at least one large poster on every building. Some featured acrobats. Some had pictures of jugglers.
I didn’t see any elephants and breathed a sigh of relief. If there had been elephants here, I probably would have smelled them already.
A torn poster fluttered in the breeze. I caught the edge and smoothed it out against the post. It was a picture of a white tiger. Well, hello there! I thought. I hope they have just one of you . . . and that you don’t particularly enjoy eating teenage girls.
Opening the door to the main building, I walked inside. The central hub had been converted into a one-ring circus. Tiers of faded red stadium chairs were stacked against the walls.
Chatting in the corner was a couple of people. A tall man, who looked like he was in charge, was off to the side, writing on a clipboard and inspecting boxes. I made a beeline for him across the black springy floor and introduced myself, ‘Hi, my name’s Kelsey, your two-week temp.’
He looked me up and down while chewing on something, and then spat on the floor. ‘Go around back, out those doors, and turn to your left. A black and silver motor home is parked out there.’
‘Thanks!’ The tobacco spit disgusted me, but I managed to smile at him anyway. I made my way to the motor home and knocked on the door.
‘Jus’ a minute,’ a man’s voice yelled. The door opened unexpectedly fast, and I jumped back in surprise. A man in a dress robe towered over me, laughing heartily at my reaction. He was very tall, dwarfing my five-foot, seven-inch frame, and he had a rotund potbelly. Black, curly hair covered his scalp, but the hairline ended just a little bit past where it should be. Smiling at me, he reached up to shift his hairpiece back into place. A thin black mustache with both ends waxed to thin points stuck straight out from either side of his upper lip. He also had a tiny square goatee patch on his chin.
‘Don’t be-a intimadated at my appearance,’ he insisted.
I dropped my eyes and flushed. ‘I’m not intimidated. It just seems I caught you by surprise. I’m sorry if I woke you.’
He laughed. ‘I like de surprises. It keeps me-a young and a most handsome man.’
I giggled but stopped quickly after remembering this was probably my new boss. Crow’s feet surrounded his twinkling blue eyes. His skin was tan, which showed off his toothy, white smile. He seemed like the kind of man who’s always laughing at a private joke.
In a booming theatrical voice, with a strong Italian accent, he asked, ‘And who might you be, young lady?’
I smiled nervously. ‘Hi. My name’s Kelsey. I was hired to work here for a couple of weeks.’
He leaned over to grasp my hand. His completely enfolded mine and he shook it up and down enthusiastically enough to make my teeth rattle. ‘Ah, fantastico! How propitious! Welcome to the Circus Maurizio! We are a little, how you say, short-handed, and need some assistenza while we are in your magnifica città, eh? Splendido to have you! Let us get a started immediatamente.’