Legends From a Jumbled Man by Michael Hudson

Author:Michael Hudson [Hudson, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-10-24T04:00:00+00:00

The Immortal Experiment: A Sarafune Short

Germany, February, 1939

The air is cold, but I don’t feel it, despite wearing only a skintight leotard as a part of my act. Something tight against my small body to make sure all can see that I am unprotected. I’m just as vulnerable as the rest of them. As any human.

Now if only I was human, because what was to come would not have happened then.

I am with a circus troupe named Le Stella In Rilievo, or The Rising Stars. I’ve poked fun at the others for the name, but I understand why they picked it. It brings your thoughts to the sky, our specialty, especially with me, and if one couldn’t understand the it still sounded fantastical, as if we’re from some grand place, rather than an Italian Slum.

They are my family though, because when they found me, I was seventeen, still considered a child to my race, and they didn’t run away or shun me like most. No, they instead took me in, excited to see what my abilities could do for their performances and ever since I’ve helped them become famous in Italy, even to the point of having performed for Mussolini himself. In fact, it was that performance that led to this one in the capital of Germany, for their Fuhrer, Adolf Hitler.

It had been going well so far, though with none of our special tricks yet. We had clowns, strong men, but had already done several trapeze, tightrope, and wirework routines. We had a big finale left, but we knew that people might be getting bored, or skeptical of more aerial acrobatics, so now I came back on.

I had been on before, but just as a normal performer with my sisters as we juggled each other through the air and bounced between the many poles set up underneath our large, circus tent. I beam toward the Fuhrer as I bow from the tightrope platform. It’s a small, tight lipped one, but my sisters told me that it was better than any grin I ever tried to put on.

Antonio was below me, standing in the middle of the ring as he began to speak. He was our ring master, dressed in gaudy reds and golds on a suit that was too large for him, but he seemed to think that it hanging off of him like a damp coat was regal or something. He was the only person in our troupe I didn’t like, but he had founded the whole thing, and was the only one of us who could take care of business on a large scale, so I put up with him.

Now his voice booms through the tent as he strides towards Fuhrer Hitler, who was setup in a throne made out of respect for him. It had been quite expensive to have since he demanded it be made in Germany, and be grander than the one we’d given to Mussolini, but this performance was worth it. If he enjoyed it, we could be able to finally get out of Italy and into the rest of Europe.

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