Chapter 13: THE DANCER

SELLY ARQUENE

I smile at King Arthur, my hands smoothing his mane as I brush him. He stretches lazily, his long tail swaying, his head moving as the lion rubs his forehead against me, sniffing.

“He’s going to end up as a snack for that animal.” A low voice full of disdain sounds to the left of the cage, making me shrink my shoulders and keep the brush sliding slowly through Arthur’s mane.

His feline eyes are fixed behind me, his body rising.

“Come on, little freak, Baba is calling you!” Dior slams his hand hard against the cage bars, and I shrink even more.

I only nod, standing up slowly as I hear a low sound come from Arthur’s mouth. I smile at him, giving a tender look, then head to the cage door, opening it and stepping out.

I lock the padlock before turning and putting the brush in my overalls’ pocket. I don’t look at Dior, just walk with my head down, taking off my cap and sighing, feeling tired after working all day in the cages, cleaning them and feeding and watering the animals.

I had finished my work twenty minutes ago, so I stayed in the cage with King Arthur, brushing him. I like being with him; I feel good with my feline friend, whom I love.

“What were you up to last night, Retalho?” A firm hand on my arm makes me stop.

I startle, feeling my heart race, and shrink as I inhale Dior’s breath near my cheek.

“Spook wasn’t happy at all when he told me he wants you to go to his trailer tonight, after dinner.” He grits his teeth. “Remember, it’s because of Spook you have a place to live, just like that useless thief Charles, and just as Spook takes care, he punishes.”

I close my eyes, turning my face away as I feel the tips of his fingers brush my cheek, pushing my hair aside.

“And we both know the kind of punishment he wants to give you, Retalho...” Dior falls silent as Arthur’s loud roar echoes in the cage, the lion pounding his paws on the iron bars.

“Be a good girl and go to Baba. And later, at night, after dinner, you know what to do.”

He shoves me forward hard, and I almost fall. My whole body trembles, and I slowly turn to face the ugly smile on his lips, watching him bring a small whiskey bottle to his mouth.

“Sooner or later, he’ll get what he wants.” Dior lowers the bottle, scanning my body before raising his eyes back to mine. “And once he has it, it won’t be long before all his trusted men have it too, because Spook loves sharing his toys. And when that happens, we’ll both play, my dear.”

He advances, scaring me as he comes at me, making me trip over a bucket and fall on my butt in the dirt. My body curls up, and my arms hold my knees tight as I drag my legs, lowering my head and breathing rapidly due to my nervousness.

“We’ll play a lot.”

I curl up even more, almost feeling my belly touch my thighs, hugging myself tighter as I feel his fingers on the top of my head, messing my hair as he passes by me.

Hot tears run down my cheeks, and I sit on the dirt, my body rocking back and forth.

Amid the crying, I hear her screams, as well as my sister’s, who lies on the ground with her nightgown lifted. My mother screams more, and Maya too, with a man lying on top of her body.

“See what Victor should have done to you instead of putting a ring on your finger, bitch!” the angry man yells at my mother. “See before your death, the only thing bitches like you are good for...”

“We’ll play a lot, dear...” the man on my sister says, grabbing her hair.

Maya struggles and screams, lying on the ground. The large man’s body moves back and forth over hers, and he bites her, making me cry even more at the pain on my sister’s face.

I sob quietly, the memories gripping me, the damn images that never left my mind, so vivid as if I were watching it all happen right now.

The fear grows so strong inside me that I want to die, because I know sooner or later I won’t be able to run from Spook anymore, much less from Dior, who has his disgusting eyes on me like two wasps. Dior still hides from everyone the damn way he looks at me, as if I were a piece of meat, but Spook doesn’t. He doesn’t hide it from anyone; on the contrary, he makes sure to watch my every step, looking at me in a way that even makes my bones shiver.

Until I was fourteen, I didn’t have these worries. No one looked at me; I was just another lost, miserable soul in the circus, and I looked more like a boy than a girl. But then my body started to change, my breasts grew, as did my butt, and my body took on shapes that became more pronounced over the years.

It was during one of the aerial hoop shows, when I was eighteen, that I was forced to wear Lady’s outfit, Belmonte’s wife, because my dresses no longer fit and hindered my movements on the hoop. I had to wear one of her swimsuits, which was red and sparkly, because there was no time for Baba to make another dress for me. And I didn’t like wearing it at all, since it left my arms and legs bare.

That day, when I stepped into the ring, with all eyes fixed on my scars, only brutal silence fell over the space. And that same night, Dior introduced me as Retalho, the rag dancer.

I won’t say I felt sad to hear the name he gave me because of my scars, because I didn’t care. The second I was up there, dancing on that hoop, I only saw my mother dancing with me and my sister in the living room, smiling and teaching us ballet. When I danced, everything around me disappeared.

Only when my feet touched the ground and I returned to reality did I realize Spook was staring at me, standing by the ring with a disgusting smile on his lips.

That night, Baba told me things would change for me because he had seen me no longer as a kid, but as a woman, and she warned me to be careful. I remember Baba scaring him, saying she saw in the cards that any man who touched me would meet a horrible end because I was a companion of death. I didn’t tell her that the death she saw in the cards was the death of my family, nor that I doubted I would ever have a partner.

I didn’t care what she said, because her words kept Spook’s hands off me until now. But deep down I know Dior is right, that sooner or later Spook will force me to lie with him, forcing his old, disgusting body on me. For now, he doesn’t touch me—not the way I see in his eyes that he wants to touch me—but he forces me to go to his trailer and dance for him.

Actually, I was supposed to go there last night, but I didn’t. I lost track of time and forgot the whole world while dancing in the empty tent after the circus closed. I danced for them, as if it was my way to be close to Maya and my mother.

When I realized it, time had passed and I was being stared at

by a pair of intensely dark eyes, his fingers gripping my shoulders.

It's strange to think that for a fraction of a second, when I looked into his eyes, I felt exactly what I feel when I dance: as if everything around me had disappeared and gone silent.

I only realized what happened when I heard Chester’s angry voice, that damn disgusting dog of Spook, who can be just as intimidating as Spook—not because of his nasty, malicious look, but because of his cruelty.

I had already seen Chester beat a man who worked here, almost killing him. Chester is evil and likes to scare others, and Spook uses that to force me to dance for him. The old man never said it directly, but I understood his veiled threats when he said it would be a shame if Chester lost his head and broke the legs of some acrobat, dwarf, or even an old fortune-teller.

I don’t want Charles, Fredo, or Baba to get hurt because of me, so I agree to do what he asks. But every night I enter that trailer or one of Spook’s tents, alone with him, I know I won’t come out whole anymore, because he steals a piece of my dead soul.

The sound of a sad purr, loud and almost like a call, makes me lift my face and wipe my tears. I see Arthur pounding his paws on the cage, looking at me with distress.

“It’s okay, big buddy...” I murmur to him, calming him down. “It’s okay.”