“And so Circus Harry kicked the door down.”
“Oooh,” said Molly and Sally the Aerial Acrobatic Infants.
“Yes,” continued Kliki the Clown. “The nasty men were behind the door and all the animals they had kidnapped were in the corner of the room.”
“How did Circus Harry set them free?” asked Molly.
“Yes, yes! Did he whip them with his flares?” asked Sally eagerly.
“Did he blind them with his dazzling nylon shirt?” continued Molly.
“Well, if you let me finish,” said Kliki happily. “I’ll tell you. He walked slowly into the room, the Cuban heels on his winkle pickers clicking against the wood floor. He took off his leather jacket and threw it to one side revealing a .44 Magnum.”
“The most powerful handgun in the world?” interrupted Sally.
“Yes, that’s right. He took the gun from his holster and pointed it at the two nasty men. ‘I know what you’re thinking,’ said Circus Harry. ‘Did he fire six shots or five? Well, to tell you the truth, in all this excitement, I’ve kinda lost track myself. But this being the .44 Magnum the most powerful handgun in the world, and would blow your head clean off, you’ve got to ask yourself one question: Do you feel lucky?’ He waited a second then continued, ‘Well do ya punks?’”
“Oooh, this is exciting,” said Molly.
“The nasty men took one look at Circus Harry standing there and dropped their guns. Circus Harry tied them up and freed all the animals but before he handed them over to the police, one of the bad men turned to Harry and said, ‘I gotta know…’ Harry pointed the gun at him, pulled the trigger.”
“Aaaaargh!” squealed Molly.
“And a little sign unfurled itself with ‘BANG!’ written on.”
The girls giggled. They liked Kliki’s stories.
“Now you two better get to bed cos we’re moving on tomorrow.”
“If any bad men harm us will Circus Harry come and save us?” asked Sally.
“Of course he will,” said Kliki, kissing the girls on their cheeks. “He’s the circus folk’s saviour. Now night, night.”
“Goodnight Kliki!”
The next day it was time to take down the big top. The circus had run its course and it was time to move to the next town for new thrills, a new audience. A fleet of articulated lorries stood in wait for their cargo, ready to go. A young woman expertly climbed onto the cab’s roof and, with a flourish, began addressing the assembled circus folk.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” she began theatrically. “Boys and girls. It is now time to move on. You all know what you have to do…” The Ring Mistresses always liked to put on a show, even for her friends. From out of nowhere she produced a whip, cracking it twice in the air before somersaulting down to the ground once more.
Within a couple of hours the big top had begun to crumple towards the earth, the elephants, lions, horses and performing seals had all been safely tucked up in their transporters. Erica Von Eisenflausen stood proudly watching her extended family going through their familiar roles of dismantling this show, ready to erect the next. As the Ring Mistress she was a mother figure, but a figure of strict authority and order as well. She surveyed the scene, everything was going to plan and right on schedule.
The trucks containing the animals had departed, the costumes had gone, the caravans were no longer there. Even as she stood, the big top was being carefully bundled into the final truck. All that remained were the brown pieces of earth beneath where the tents had been, a reminder that they had been there, a footprint almost, but a footprint that the grass would soon swallow.
“Madam!” a deep booming voice echoed from behind the Ring Mistress. She gracefully spun around on the spot. Big Dave Boulders was bounding towards her.
“Big Dave!” she smiled broadly. “How’s it all looking.”
“Well madam,” he growled in his bass tones. “The big top is all packed up, the last truck is ready to leave. There’s only us lot left now so I reckon we’re just about ready to leave.”
“Right then,” said the Ring Mistress. “I’ll just do a few last checks then I’ll follow you along.” She reached down and patted the little man on the head. Big Dave grinned and scuttled off to get everyone on the bus, he didn’t let just anyone pat him on the head. In his younger days he had had quite a problem with his height but the circus had come to town and that week in the jobcentre there had been a vacancy displayed:
URGENT VACANCY
Dwarf required by travelling circus. Male or female. Training will be provided. No previous experience required.
He went along for the interview and right then and there The Ring Mistress had taken him on, it was the very same day he had met his wife, Bessie Boulders the Bearded Lady. He held a special torch for the two of them for taking him on and showing him the ways of the circus.
The coach was waiting at the gate of the field, the circus folk had all gathered around waiting for The Ring Mistress to arrive. Big Dave Boulders arrived at the coach. Bessie, his wife leaned down and kissed him.
“The Ring Mistress says she’ll be here in a couple of minutes,” he shouted to everyone.
“All aboard,” shouted Kliki the Clown; his voice high and piercing. Kliki was old and had joined the circus long ago when the freak show used to be it’s main attraction. When The Ring Mistress took over, she got rid of that side of the circus and his old profession of Eunuch was upgraded to that of Clown.
The circus folk began to file on to the coach, the jugglers and acrobats, knife throwers and lion tamers, The Amazing Fanto, Boris the Giant Vampire, even Congo the monkey and Bonzo the Parrot were carefully escorted onto the coach. Despite the fact that the rest of the animals travelled by truck, Congo and Bonzo were different; they had almost as must respect as Kliki. They too were veterans and as such were granted seats on the circus folk’s coach.
The Ring Mistress finally arrived, the tails of her red coat flapping in the wind that had suddenly sprung up, seemingly from nowhere.
“Afternoon ma’am,” said Fred the driver.
“Afternoon Fred,” said Erica.
“Are we all set?”
“We certainly are, strap everyone in and prepare for take-off.”
The two of them mounted the stairs of the single-decker coach and entered the buzzing atmosphere of the coach, everyone was excitedly chattering away. Fred took his position in the driving seat and The Ring Mistress sat herself down in the seat just to the left.
“All aboard?” shouted the driver.
“Yes!” chorused everyone else.
“Right, then we’re off.”
He pushed the button on the dashboard to close the door. The familiar hiss of the door closing began, but a second before it did someone outside the bus obstructed its path with their foot. The driver looked down the stairs to see if it was anyone he had left behind but the tinted windows obscured his view. He pushed the button once more to open the door.
“Sorry son, I didn’t…”
A man raced up the stairs of the bus. He was dressed in black from head to foot, black jumper, black jeans, black trainers, even his close-cropped hair was black. In his hand he carried a shiny silver gun. He wasn’t one of the circus folk and immediately established himself by holding the barrel of the gun to The Ring Mistress’ head.
“Right!” he screamed. “You frigging freaks!” He kept glancing here, there and everywhere, making sure no-one was moving toward him. “Anyone move and you’re going to end up with this lady’s brains all over your freak faces. Got it?”
Everyone nodded silently.
“Right,” he looked over to Fred the driver. “Start driving you muppet.”
The bus began to pull away.
“Mummy,” whispered Molly at the back of the bus. “Circus Harry will save us won’t he?”
Somewhere in the sprawling metropolis…
A man in a purple velvet suit vaults over the bonnet of his Cadillac. It’s brand new, unbelievably cool, its red with purple polka dots matching the suit and a plush leopard skin interior. Everything about it says style.
The man slams the car into gear and pulls out into the traffic, he pulls his aviator sunglasses over his eyes and lights a cigarette. He’s cool and he knows it. Got to move along though, he’s got a job to do. He moves through the gears, gradually speeding away from the suburbs.
*
“Usually in these situations you would expect to be reassured, ‘If everyone does as they are told then everything will be ok’. Well, unfortunately that’s not the case because I’m afraid I’m going to waste the fucking lot of you. Just wanted to clear that up”
“Excuse me,” asked Fred the Driver nervously. “There’s a fork in the road here, which way shall I go; left or right?”
“Right here, then your next left about a half a mile down the road.”
Fred was taking it slow, staying well below the speed limits. The terrorist was obviously taking them somewhere specific and if he could delay that then there might be a chance of…
“Why are you doing this?” asked the Ring Mistress, the gun still pressed firmly to her temple.
“What?” asked the man. “Oh I see. None of your business.”
“What’s your name?” she continued, politely.
“Now that’s definitely none of your business, just shut up.”
The Ring Mistress fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Oh, go on. If we’re doomed anyway what harm will it do? I’m Erica Von Eisenhausen.”
“Licky Rake, pleased to meet you,” he smiled and suddenly realised he had been tricked. He pressed the gun harder to The Ring Mistress’ temple, flattening her against the head rest of the chair. “No, shut up, no more talking!”
The circus folk fell into a tense silence. All that could be heard was the roar of the coach’s engine, pushing them further and further towards their unknown destination. Licky looked angry that he had been tricked, he knew that hostage taking wasn’t the easiest way of doing things. What he had originally tried to do was rig up a bomb. He’d seen enough movies to know how to conceal one but had been flawed at the building stage.
Finding the components was no problem, he even sailed though putting them together. It was when it came to the detonation that things always went wrong. Every time he had detonated one of his bombs, it had just farted yellow smoke. He was almost certain he was doing something wrong until he eventually did have a degree of success.
He scratched the patch where his eyebrows should have been. Oh well, they would grow back in time but it was a hard lesson. He wasn’t cut out for explosives. This kidnapping lark on the other hand wasn’t going too badly at all. They were well on their way to the destination and so far he had it all under control.
It had been a while coming but Congo the Monkey had chosen his moment well. With simian precision he dropped from the luggage rack, wrapping one hand around Licky’s head and slapping the gun to the floor with the other. Licky flailed wildly, not really knowing how to take being attacked by a monkey.
“Get him Congo,” shouted Kliki the Clown. “Bite his bleeding ear off.”
“Oooh ya bugga!” a squawk came from the bottom of the bus as Bonzo the Parrot flew out of his cage to join the fray. Somehow Licky was still standing, spinning around in circles as Congo repeatedly punched him in the kidneys. Bonzo did what he always did when he was let out of his cage; swore and then bit someone.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaah!” screamed Licky as Bonzo’s beak pierced his skin. From the back of the bus it looked like the terrorist was wearing a feather loin-cloth.
Licky fell to the floor, seemingly stunned and as he did Congo lost his grip. Immediately Licky grabbed the gun from underneath the chair where it had fallen. Bonzo was still biting down and Licky was clearly in a lot of pain as he got to his feet.
“GET… IT… OFF…” he whispered to the Ring Mistress.
“You can’t, he’s been known to stay attached for days,” she shrugged.
Licky looked down at the multi-coloured demon attached to what was left of his family jewels. He carefully aimed the gun and…
BANG!
Licky was hysterical. He didn’t think for one moment that they would try to escape. Well he would show them.
“This isn’t the first time I’ve been attacked by you people!” he had begun to rant. “Oh no, that’s why I have to get rid of you. You people are dangerous.” Saliva had begun to drip from the corners of his mouth as he shouted.
“You see – you people nearly killed me. Ten years ago to this very day. I was younger then. Yes. Came to the circus. Me and my mother,” his eyes had begun to well up with tears and he was waving the gun randomly around. “She didn’t leave your circus though. No. Shall I tell you why? Shall I? Because you set the elephants on us. An elephant sat on her. Killed her stone dead. Dead!”
*
The purple polka dot love machine powers onto the motorway. The engine revs, the driver steers it straight into the fast lane. Everybody in his wake can see that license plate:
C1RCU5 H4RRY
It’s the license plate that says, ‘Hey, they chicks dig me and do you know why? Cos I’m the man!’
A couple of miles down the road two young women are driving along in their mini. The Cadillac draws along side them. The man leans over, points at the girls and winks.
“Oh my God, is it?” they chorus.
The Cadillac pulls away on down the road. They see the plates.
“IT IS!!! IT IS!!!”
*
By this time Licky Rake was really losing it, they had reached the motorway and he was just pacing up and down the length of the bus muttering under his breath.
“Infamy,” he suddenly shouted. “That’s what I want. To appear on daytime chat shows. Richard and Judy. Tricia. Jerry Springer. And I’ll get it, oh yes.”
“You’ll be locked up,” said Boris the giant vampire tentatively.
“No! No I won’t because they will understand that I had to do this. I had to drive you off the cliff. It was meant to be. No more elephantine accidents!”
*
Now the Cadillac is weaving between the lanes, really motoring. On the inside lane of the motorway it undertakes a police car. For a moment the police are furious and then, realising who it is, they break into smiles. They pull their car alongside the Cadillac and wind down the window.
“Hey Harry!”
“Hey you crazy cats,” he’s cool as ice.
“You need an escort?”
“Yeah baby, lets go!”
The Cadillac roars in front and the police run behind, sirens wailing. Tearing up the road and heading straight into the horizon. Dodging, weaving between the weak and the slow he chews up the road and spits it straight out of his exhaust pipe.
VROOOOOOOOM!
Soon, he draws alongside the police car once more.
“Well, thanks for your help guys but this is the end of the road for you two. I gotta be subtle and lets face it you cats ain’t exactly camouflaged are you?”
“Thanks Harry. Good luck!”
He touches the peak of an imaginary cap before gently accelerating away from the police car. Just up the road is the target, riding in the slow lane but with a pensive air. Time for the move, time for attack. He brushes a speck of dust from the sleeve of his jacket and pulls level with the driver of the coach.
The driver stares down at the sight beneath him, unsure of what to make of it. Can it be? He blinks. Yes it is. He nods and Circus Harry takes his sunglasses and throws them into the back seat, slamming the breaks on and dropping directly behind the coach.
Moments later a death defying jump has Circus Harry climbing the back of the bus, slowly, biding his time. He glances over his shoulder and sees the Cadillac has now slowed to a halt, abandoned on the hard shoulder with the engine still running. The police would look after that for him.
Seconds later the wind is tearing at his immaculately quaffed hair as he crawls ever-so slowly down the bus to the front. Through the skylight he can see the target pacing up and down, down and up. Suddenly the target’s attention is distracted to someone at the back of the coach, he races down to investigate. In a flash Circus Harry jumps to his feet, takes his Magnum out of its holster, jumps in the air and drops clean through the skylight into the aisle of the coach.
“Fucking hell,” said Licky spinning around to see what the hell was going one. Everyone on the bus dropped behind their seats, bracing themselves for gunfire. He had caught a glimpse of steel in the corner of his eye, was it the police so soon? No it couldn’t be.
The figure that had dropped through the skylight didn’t even stand up, just started shooting straight down the aisle. Licky jumped out of the way as the back window of the coach shattered and shattered over and over. The stuffing of chairs flew in the air and gunpowder began to fill his nostril as he emptied his gun down the aisle at what looked like a pimp.
The gunfire subsided as quickly as it had erupted.
“Get your fat ass out here NOW!” screamed Circus Harry.
There was no reply.
“Mummy, its him, its him isn’t it?” Sally and Molly were ecstatic.
“Shhhhh!”
“You’ve emptied on me. Where you gonna go?”
Licky stood up, pulled a flick-knife from his coat and put it straight to little Molly’s neck. “Put down the gun.”
Circus Harry wasn’t listening to Licky. He still had his gun levelled right at him.
“Put it down. Now!”
“I know what you’re thinking,” said Circus Harry, his eyes cold and glazed, almost the same shade of purple as his suit. “Did he fire six shots or only five?”
Licky looked confused. He tried to reassert his authority in the situation but the little girl to whose neck he had the knife had begun grinning. This wasn’t supposed to happen, these freaks were supposed to die not him.
“Well, to tell you the truth,” continued Circus Harry emotionless. “In all this excitement, I’ve kinda lost track myself. But being as this is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world, and would blow your head clean off, you’ve got to ask yourself one question…”
Licky looked expectant, frightened like a rabbit in the headlights of a lorry.
“Do I feel lucky?” Circus Harry cocked the Magnum. “Well, do ya punk?”
The was a split second’s silence before Licky dropped the knife. Circus Harry walked up the aisle to where Licky was standing and pistol whipped him into unconsciousness.
“Pull the bus over,” he shouted down the aisle.
Circus Harry walked towards the door of the bus with the circus folk sitting in a stunned silence. The driver opened the doors and Circus Harry began to descend the stairs.
“Circus Harry,” said the driver quietly. “I’ve got to know…”
Circus Harry pointed the gun straight at him and pulled the trigger. There was a click but no shot.
“Circus Harry!” shouted Molly from the back of the bus. “Thank you! We love you!”
The driver thought he caught a glimpse of a smile of Circus Harry’s lips as he left the bus, he couldn’t be sure but it might have been.
*
The purple polka dot Cadillac pulls easily back into the traffic as the police bundle Licky Rake, crazed kidnapper into their car. A man in a purple velvet suit runs a comb though his hair and powers off into the horizon, into tomorrow.
