Page 7 of Tiger's Curse
The last thing the trainer did was put his head inside the tiger’s mouth. A hush fell on the crowd and Matt stiffened. The tiger opened its mouth impossibly wide. I saw its sharp teeth and leaned forward feeling concerned. Matt’s father slowly moved his head closer to the tiger. The tiger blinked a few times, but it held still, and its powerful jaws gaped even wider.
Matt’s dad lowered his head all the way inside the animal’s mouth, fully within the chomping area of the tiger’s maw. Finally, he slowly brought his head out. When his head was completely free and he had moved away, the crowd erupted in cheers, while he bowed several times. Other handlers appeared to help take down the cage.
My eyes were drawn to the tiger, which was now sitting on one of the stools. I saw it moving its tongue around. It was scrunching up its face as if it smelled something funny. It almost looked like it was gagging, like a cat does when it has a hairball. Then it shook itself and sat there calmly.
Matt’s dad brought his hands up, and the crowd cheered loudly. The whip cracked again, and the tiger quickly jumped off the stool, ran back through the tunnel, up the ramp, and into its cage. Matt’s dad ran out of the ring and stepped behind the canvas curtain.
Mr. Maurizio dramatically shouted, “The Great Dhiren!Mille grazie!Thank you so much for coming to see the Circus Maurizio!”
As the tiger’s cage was wheeled away before me, I had a sudden urge to stroke its head and comfort it. I wasn’t sure if tigers could show emotion, but for some reason I felt like I could sense its mood. It seemed melancholy.
Just at that moment, a soft breeze wrapped around me carrying the scent of night blooming jasmine and sandalwood. It completely overwhelmed the strong aroma of hot buttered popcorn and cotton candy. My heart beat faster as goosebumps shot down my arms. But as quickly as it came, the lovely scent disappeared and I felt an inexplicable hole in the pit of my stomach.
The lights came up and the kids started stampeding out of the arena. My brain was still slightly foggy. Slowly, I got up and turned around to stare at the curtain where the tiger had disappeared. A faint trace of sandalwood and an unsettled feeling lingered.
Huh! I must have hypersensitivity disorder.
The show was over, and I was officially crazy.
3
the tiger
the kids rushed out of the building in a screaming mob. A bus started up in the parking lot. As it noisily shook itself awake rumbling, hissing, and puffing air out of its exhaust pipe, Matt stood up and stretched. “Ready for the real work now?”
I groaned, feeling the soreness in my arm muscles already. “Sure, bring it on.”
He started cleaning the debris off the seats, as I followed behind to push them against the wall. When that was done, he handed me a broom. “We’ve got to get the whole area swept up, pack everything into the boxes, and then store them all away again. You get started, and I’ll turn in the money boxes to Mr. Maurizio.”
“No problem.”
I started moving slowly across the floor, pushing the broom in front of me. I wound forward and back, like a swimmer doing laps, as I methodically swept up the rubbish. My mind wandered back to the acts I had seen. I loved the dogs the best, but there was something compelling about the tiger. My thoughts kept drifting back to the big cat.
I wonder what it’s like up close. And why does it smell like sandalwood?I didn’t know anything about tigers except what I had seen late at night on the Nature Channel and in old issues ofNational Geographic. I’d never been that interested in tigers before, but then again, I’d never worked in a circus before either.
I’d almost finished sweeping by the time Matt came back. He bent to help me scoop up the giant mound of trash before we spent a good hour packing up boxes and hauling them back to storage.
When this was done, Matt told me that I could have an hour or two off until it was time to join the troupe for dinner. I was eager to have a little time to myself, so I hurried back to the tent.
I changed clothes, wiggled into an only slightly uncomfortable place on my cot, and pulled out my journal. As I nibbled on my pen, I reflected on the interesting people I had met here. It was obvious that the circus folk considered each other family. Several times, I noticed people stepping in to help, even if it wasn’t their job. I also wrote a bit about the tiger. The tiger really interested me.Maybe I should work with animals and study that in college, I reflected. Then I thought about my extreme dislike of biology and knew I’d never make it in that field.
It was almost time for dinner. The delectable aroma coming from the big building made my mouth water.
This was nothing like Sarah’s vegan cookies, I thought.No, it had the homey feel of Grandma’s biscuits and gravy.
Inside, Matt was setting up chairs around eight long folding tables. One of the tables was set up with Italian takeout. It looked fantastic. I offered to help, but Matt brushed me aside.
“You worked hard today, Kelsey. Relax, I got this,” he said.
Cathleen waved me over. “Come sit by me. We can’t start eating until Mr. Maurizio comes in to make the evening announcements.”
Sure enough, the moment we sat down, Mr. Maurizio strolled dramatically into the building. “Favolosoperformance, everyone! And a mosteccellentejob to our newest salesperson, eh? Tonight is a celebration!Mangiate. Fill your plates,mia famiglia!”
I giggled.Huh. He plays the part all the time, not just for the show.
I turned to Cathleen. “I guess that means we did a good job, right?”
She answered, “Yep. Let’s eat!”
