Fallen Angel

Fallen Angel

As his wife swung unknowingly toward her doom, Raul laughed inside.
As she left her trapeze, reaching out for his hands, her brilliant white
costume flapping, inside he felt happy.
He watched as she soared through the air, looking down for a glimpse
of his chalky white hands, the only thing that kept her from plummeting
to the floor, a safety net was not part of their act. The fear of knowing
in her eyes as she dropped past, sparked off excitement in him, he had
not felt before.
“whoo,” the crowd exclaimed as the woman hurtled toward the ground.
Raul closed his eyes, waiting for the tell-tale thud, the sign of her death.
His stomach knotted up inside, as he swayed to-and-fro at the roof of
the Big Top.
Screams filled the air inside the huge tent, those of women and men alike.
The sound of the poor Ring Master trying to calm the multitude of people
around him, drowned out by the bedlam and pandemonium rising around
him.

Grinning inwardly to himself at the thought of his wife’s early demise, he
was suddenly brought back to his senses, out of his day dream, as his
wife gripped his hands firmly.
His thoughts traced their way back to the events of the previous day.

Zena openly mocked him, laughing hard at the beaten down expression
upon his face.
She knew the constant taunts about his manhood embarrassed him, his
cheeks having gone bright red.
“I need a real man,” she jeered, “One that can satisfy my needs.”
She pretended to think to herself. “I know. I’ll ask Abdul the dwarf. I
quite fancy the best of both worlds.” She smiled, distastefully.
Raul stormed out of the trailer, ignoring the barrage of insults that had
followed.

Sitting in the smoky tavern, Raul drank back the clear liquid in his glass.
“Vodka,” he shouted, to nobody in particular, drawing attention from
some of the locals, who only grinned to each-other.
“The gateway to every man’s soul,” he laughed.
He once again filled his glass, spilling just a drop. In his line of work, you
could not afford to have shaky hands. Nerves of steel and a good grip
were essential.
‘In his line of work’ he thought to himself. Swinging on a damn trapeze,
like a bird in a cage. That he was born into this profession, made him
despise his parents.
“The Twirling Angels” they had called themselves. Flying through the air,
dressed all in white, sequined suits, tiny lace wings on their backs their,
dreams in their hearts.
Dreams that, one day, they would own their own Big Top.
People would com from all corners of the globe to be dazzled by their
aerial acrobatics.

They never lived long enough to reach their goal.
After their death’s, Raul and his newly acquired wife took over the roles
as “The Twirling Angels”, which, up until recently, they were both quite
happy with.
Raul ordered the landlord to bring him another bottle of Vodka.
The landlord refused, suggesting it was time he made his way home.
After much persuasion, he left the establishment. Although, not before
telling the landlord what he thought of his “rancid cesspool of a tavern”,
then collapsing over a table.

He shuffled along the old cobbled streets, the wind blowing through,
acting as a wind-tunnel. It was Mother Nature’s way of warning him not
to go home.
As he reached out to open the door to the trailer, Raul heard his wife’s
shrill voice, laughing and giggling. He quickly dropped his hand as though
the door handle was on fire. He staggered round to the back of the trailer,
peering in through the gap in the curtains. He saw a sight that turned his
thoughts to that of murder.

Inside the trailer lay his wife. She lay stark naked, apart from a ribbon in
her hair. Inbetween her legs, thrust the tiny deformed frame of the dwarf.
Its’ hands squeezed hard on her plump breast, with the light glistening off
her erect nipples, where his mouth had just been. His muscular body made
him appear even more grotesque.
Then Raul saw what his wife had meant earlier, when she said “the best
of both worlds”. For, as the dwarf lifted his buttocks to thrust once more,
Raul saw that he not only possessed the organs of a male, but those of a
female as well. It too glistened moistly, from where his wife had obviously
lavished attention.
The whole thing made him retch uncontrollably.
The taste of vomit and Vodka did not leave a taste as bad in his mouth,
as the sight he’d just witnessed in their trailer.
He ran as fast as he could, away from his torment. Finding solace in the
centre of the ring, in the Big Top. It was then that he thought of his plan to
do away with his wife, ending her spiteful torment.

As he dreamt of his solution to the problem, the alcohol doing the majority
of the thinking, he grinned. Perhaps he could put her in the lions cage?
That would be nasty.
Messy and nasty. Realising that, if he was to do that, he would be found
out in the end. No. He needed a plan that wouldn’t cause suspicion.
Barring that, he could just return to the trailer,then kill them both, pleading
temporary insanity.
Finding his wife with another man –or woman- whatever that creature was.

No. The act, of course. It was so obvious.
In the act, they took in turns, spinning and somersaulting, each catching the
other in turn. No other trapezeist couple had both partners catching. It was
usually solely the male that caught. That's what set them apart from the rest.
On the final set piece. That is when he would do it.
A little bad timing. Who in their right mind could blame him.

The crowd went silent as the spotlight followed the two bodies, spinning and
twisting in the air.
It had reached the crescendo as Raul left his trapeze, he seemed to touch
the roof of the tent, his body rotating, not once but twice, before making his
descent.
The crowd gasped.
As Raul reached out for his wife’s hands, the thought of the next catch he was supposed to make, the one that was to kill his wife, made him warm inside.
So, as he once again reached out for his wife’s waiting hands, he had looked
disturbed by the smiling face of his wife. Not knowing why.
It suddenly became quite clear as, ' he', not his wife, fell toward the centre of
the ring.
‘This isn’t how it’s supposed to end’ he thought as gravity claimed him.
That was to be his very last thought.

As she swayed to-and-fro, she allowed herself a slight grin.
She gazed down into the face of the dwarf, at the side of the ring.
He returned her smile.