The Circus - Chapter One

Chapter 1 - 3rd July 1958

Excitement had been replaced by an overpowering feeling of fear. The young boy panted and glanced back as he skipped and jumped through the thick undergrowth, the nettles whipping his shins, low hanging branches scratching his head. The wood led from the park down the hill onto the main road, he knew he had to make it there. He had to tell everybody what he had just witnessed.

The wood opened up into a clearing, a small hill ran down to a pile of fallen leaves and as he scampered down into the clearing his legs began to lose control and then all of sudden he was tumbling fast into the bed of crispy, dry leaves. Thrusting out his hands James plummeted head first into the deep ground, panic set in and James thought he was falling into a huge hole in the ground, like the one that had swallowed his friend.

Buried for a moment his heart pounded hard, he tried to breathe but instead of air he sucked in dirt and leaves. Scrabbling about he tried to push the leaves off his body, after a few panic stricken seconds he emerged above the leaves. James pulled himself to his feet and looked toward the undergrowth ahead, he felt dizzy and disorientated. He knew he just had to keep on running until he reached the main road, this was where he would feel safe once more and more importantly he would be able to get help. Tears started to roll down his cheek, he thought of Robert and then anxiously the skinny ten year old peered back into the trees listening intently.

The birds were usually singing and chirping around this time, but James did not hear a sound, he stared up to the top of the hill he had just stumbled down and concentrated. There was a movement between the trees, James was not sure if the breeze had caught the branches or it was them coming after him.

Suddenly from the top of the hill a twig snapped and James did not even wait to see what had caused the noise. Whimpering, he was off running, across the clearing and then back into the thick of the trees, his heart was pounding, mouth as dry as the desert and all he could think of was reaching the main road.

Bursting through the trees, he skipped across the path and without looking darted into the main road, a driver slammed on the brakes of his large truck, the wheels screeched and smoke appeared from underneath the carriage. James jumped onto the grass verge as the truck went skidding by, wheels locked. From the other direction a motorcyclist swerved to miss the oncoming truck.

Running down the path which led to the row of houses in the village, James could hear the thud of trees and fencing as the truck smashed into a field, but he did not look back, he just kept running and running.

The village was long and narrow, most of the inhabitants were in their gardens tending to the flowers or just enjoying the sunshine on this warm summer evening. James sprinted as fast as he could down the narrow, twisting lane. As he ran by the row of houses, people would stare up and look at the crying, panting boy as he scampered by. Swinging round a small bend in the road, James ran straight up the path toward the blue door, he slammed his fist onto the wood and just continued to hammer away with his small hands. After a short while the door was wrenched open and he stood and stared at the woman before him, tears streaming down his face.

“What is it, James?” asked the woman.

“Mum, over there. Come quick. Mum.” He was now sobbing.

“What is it?” She asked again, this time bending down and placing her arms around his shoulders.

Without answering, James ran back up the path, darted across the road to the house opposite and up the gravel path, his mother following closely behind. James collapsed as he reached the door, the house of Mrs. Harlow, he had to tell her what had happened to Robert. His friend. Her son. James could not raise himself up; his mother arrived and helped the young boy get up, just as Mrs. Harlow opened the door. James tried to speak, but his words could not come out coherently, he just stood there sobbing and whining until he eventually sunk to his knees again.

“James. James!” his mother cried.

“What is it, James?” Mrs Harlow asked.

It had not been long before the police arrived and then a search party had been organised. James relayed the story to the officer about what he had seen in the field, people stood and looked at each other in bewilderment. There was muttering amongst the local villagers about James.

“That boy has lost it,” said one.

“He’s not quite right in the head, that one,” said another.

James‘ mother sat on her rocking chair in the background, her son perched on her knee as she rocked back and forth to calm him, he was still shaking and his baby sister sat next to him on the floor playing with her toy bricks, unaware of the events unfolding.

“Are you sure, James?”

“Instead of standing here, go out and look for that poor boy!” replied James’ mother.

“Mrs. Fuller. We all know that ten year old boys have a wild imagination, we just want to get to the bottom of this.”

“Look at him. Is this a wild imagination?”

The officer did not reply, he stood up and tipped his hat to Mrs. Fuller before turning and gazing across the road at a frantic Mrs. Harlow who was being held close by a relative as she sobbed and screamed out for somebody to find her son.

Out in the woods the search party looked for Robert Harlow, his father was directing people into little groups. They had started in a line at the main road just where the motorcyclist and truck driver were being tended to by an ambulance. Mr. Harlow gave the order and the long line began to walk slowly into the undergrowth and through the wood until they reached the clearing of leaves. The search continued on through the trees, some of the search party carried long sticks and were swatting away at the dense foliage. Up in the sky the birds circled once more as though calm had returned to the area and as the line moved forward rabbits and deer sprung up from their hiding places and scampered away. The woods were alive once more.

Police officers who had gone ahead, reached the park where James had stated he witnessed the incident in question, they walked up to the tall metal fence that surrounded the caravans and tents and waited as a young, attractive female approached them with an air of grace about her person. In the background they noticed the huge white tent rising up into the air, thick ropes cascading down from the centre pole into the ground below.

The red coat she wore had three buttons holding the material close into her slim hips and then it split into a v-shape across her thighs, the coat continued down behind her legs to her calves, as she walked it swished in the breeze. Large black cane in her hand she reached the fence where the officers stood and then planted the metal cap into the grass as she smiled at them warmly.

“Hello officers.” Her voice was deep husky. “What can I do for you?”

“Have you seen this boy?” The sergeant asked producing a small, black and white photograph of Robert Harlow from his pocket and handed it to her.

“No, I can’t say I have,” she replied.

“Are you sure, madam? It is extremely important,” the sergeant replied.

“Officers, I am sure you will appreciate we have so many children come here.” The female moved her arm and pointed behind her to the circus big top.

“Yes, I understand. You see. Well.” The sergeant glanced at his colleague, not knowing what to say.

“What is it?” Asked the concerned looking female.

“Well, we have a report from his friend that this young boy has fallen into some sort of pit. Here at your circus”

“Really. Well I think you will find there are no pits here. Not even rabbit holes.”

“I’m sorry to have wasted your time, madam. If you do see this boy, please contact us immediately.” The sergeant tipped his hat, turned and walked away from the fence with his colleague.

“I’m sure I will officer.” The female smiled wryly.

As they walked away the sergeant stared down at the ground, his colleague a young officer with only a couple of year’s service looked hard at him.

“Why didn’t you tell her what the young boy told us?” The officer paused. “He never said anything about him falling down a pit.”

“How am I supposed to tell anybody what that boy told us, it’s completely unbelievable?” The sergeant continued to stare at the ground.

The police officers continued to walk toward the wood, the female watched them disappear into the tree line, and she was still smiling. Looking down at the photograph that the officer had mistakenly left behind, she screwed it up in her hand, spun quickly and walked back toward the huge tent. The doors on the caravans around the enclosure opened and they came out to greet her as she stopped by the entrance to the tent.

“What now?” Said the gruff voice of one of the clowns.

“We have performed our last show here. Nobody will believe that other tramp of a boy. We are done here.”

“What of his friend?” asked another voice.

The female glanced back over her shoulder toward the tree line and then pointed her stick into the air as if to tell the gathered group that she was not willing to answer any more questions, they appeared to get the hint as they scurried around the enclosure to pack up and move on.

“He has had a lucky escape,” she said quietly to herself. “I am sure we will meet again. One day.”

Night fell quickly; James had been given a hot bath by his mother and just sat in his bedroom staring out of the window as one by one the search party returned shaking their heads. Some glanced up at the window where James sat, others just shook their heads. As the last of the search party returned, James could hear the wailing of Robert’s mother from across the road, her shrieking could be heard across the village and a deep sadness came over James as he thought back to what had happened. James knew they would never find Robert, he also knew that nobody would ever believe his words about what happened.