In the Clown Alley
London, 1897
The warmth of the night was quite prominent inside the tent on the night of her first performance. It was especially inconvenient due to her excessive sweating and shaking out of sheer anxiety. There was a soft, but still intimidating clamor coming from the patrons on the other side of the black curtain that she harbored behind in the clown alley . A fountain that spewed raw emotion was what she became as her very first entrance drew near. The voices in her head grew louder and more emphatic.
“Time to come home, Ana.”
“No, Pa. Nevermore.”
For the entirety of the show “The Enchantress” would remain silent. This made her feel at ease- to an extent- but likewise made her apprehensive.
“What will become of me provided that I blunder?” she speculated prior to jumping at the sound of her ring master’s  voice blaring from the speakers.
“Now ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, prepare to be astounded,” Emilia exclaimed. “Please welcome our one and only illusionist , Anastasia.”
The crowd roared in overwhelming excitement as Anastasia took two deep breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth, emerging from the clown alley with her arms spread out from her sides. She wore a merlot wine colored gown and an enormous smile as she began her act, watching the children’s eyes gleam.

In the Kip
Concord, 1898
“Might I ask what inspired you to solicit such nonsensical desires? You could have gotten us all dismissed,” Eric pronounced, but there was no response. “Archer?” he continued, but again, there was no response. Archer sat in his bunk reading a novel in the second to last train car of the excursion train headed towards Munich. Oddly enough, Archer was indeed an archer- the best that any of the other men had ever seen; the only archer in the business who was more than willing to add flames to an already dangerous act. After a lengthy minute of waiting for Archer to reciprocate, Bernard, Caleb, and Hector grew blasé and departed. Eric and Angus remained steadfast in their attempt to get to the root of Archer’s negligence.
“You know, the last gentleman that requested higher pay was dismissed immediately following his inquiry. You’re quite lucky, you know,” Eric persisted, yet he was calm in his demeanor.
“Yes I am quite familiar with Georg’s precedents and I am aware of the repercussions for disobeying. Now if you don’t mind I would appreciate some serenity.”
“A wayward lad,” said Eric through clenched teeth.
Eric departed swiftly, dragging a weary and frightened Angus behind him. Archer sighed in alleviation knowing that for at least the next hour, nothing would come between him and Shakespeare. Now all that was heard in the background as he read was the sound of the menagerie, passing patrons, and the ballyhoo. 

All Out and Over, All Out, All Over
Tarrytown, 1902
Anastasia sat alone in her dressing room with a book in hand like any other Friday evening. Allowing herself to become immersed in the story, she was completely cut off from the world around her; blocking out every sound and change in atmosphere until the soft but still startling knock at her door sent her approximately six inches into the air.
“Oh, yes come in,” Anastasia replied as she composed herself.
“Do you plan to spend every night cowering in this room alienating yourself? Everyone is out at the feast and there are a few men at the bar; and yet here you are on an amorous rendezvous with Othello. Come on now, we’re going to the feast,” Fiona, the contortionist , was quite demanding when it came to giving others what she thought would be best for them.
“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt much to get some fresh air.”
“Excellent…” Fiona starts out, “…and take off that gown won’t you? An alluring woman such as yourself does not need to hide beneath two tons of silk. How about the frock Madame Pascal tailored for you?”
“Oh, but Christophe said it was much too inappropriate to wear-“
“In your performances, that is. Dearest, he is our proprietor; he owns the circus, but not the people within it. Go on now, put it on.”
“I suppose so. Well… alright.”
Upon arriving at the feast, the ladies are stricken with trepidation. Officers and their stallions surrounded the dead man in front of the tavern. They eventually came to realize it Charles, their funambulist , spread across the pavement. The horrified expression hadn’t yet left his blue and white face, and James, his fellow funambulist, was still left standing near to him in utter shock. It took Anastasia and Fiona a few moments to notice another corpse lying about seven yards away from Charles and that James’ eyes were still fixed on the bodies as he shook; but Anastasia’s eyes always came back to Charles. The blood was not yet black and hardened from the cold, but it was running to fill the cracks in the sidewalk, the smell of absinthe still on his breath, and not one bystander had the courtesy to close his eyes, which were fixed looking forward, where Anastasia was standing.
“He was drunk. He didn’t mean it,” James pleaded as Fiona dragged him away from the scene, refusing to accept the fact that his comrade was still guilty of murder; and instinctively, suicide was the initial response to his mistake. This was one that could never be taken back or undone; and just as quickly as the circus came, it was gone again. However, this time was quite different; a more permanent closing.
‘One night,’ Anastasia thought, ‘I was a part of it for one night, and now, it’s over. Gone. Forever.’
The First of May
Philadelphia, 1903
With nowhere else to go Anastasia managed to settle into a small, run down lodging just inside the town of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Upon entering her home she pulled from her paper bag the ad handed to her in the grocery store by a lad whose name she did not know. As tempted as she was to get in touch with the others from Cirque de Colère, the agony they faced together created a wall between them that had not yet been broken. After much contemplation she determined that observing Circus Marvelous, alone, would be the perfect way to spend her evening.
Upon arriving at the lot, Anastasia was overwhelmed with a distinctive blend of curiosity, excitement, and devastation. It was wonderful, that she was certain of; but it was still different. Before entering the big top all of her senses were filled with every aspect of the circus; the sound of the windjammer  playing the calliope  to a familiar tune, the taste of roasted peanuts from the candy butcher , the awful smell coming from the donikers  that was almost outweighed by the smell of the animals, the lot lice  scrambling in and out of tents and food stands, and even the feeling of mud beneath her feet. She had overheard chattering women earlier in the day who called this show a fireball - and even a flea bag . Anastasia thought that either they be too privileged or she be too naïve, because to her this circus was marvelous. In fact, it was so marvelous, it gave her itchy feet - a feeling she never thought she would have again. The crier- the man from the grocery store, she came to realize. He was much older than she had previously thought, perhaps in his early sixties. He stood on his platform at the entrance of the big top broadcasting in an attempt to lure patrons inside the tent, as if they were standing around the circus lot but not planning on seeing the spectacle.
“Why Miss Macintosh, how lovely to see you again!” he pronounced quite vociferously from his raised platform.
“Macintosh? I am unable to confess that I have any idea of what that means, sir,” Anastasia replied, thoroughly baffled, but still moving closer towards him to prevent him from yelling over the patrons.
“Well perhaps I was too dumbfounded by your elegance to have the sense to ask you for your name.”
“I’m truly flattered, but you are going to have to make a little more sense than that,” Anastasia said with a giggle.
“I met you in front of the apples, my dear; the Macintosh apples, to be precise.”
“Ah yes, how could I forget? I’m Anastasia,” inside the tent, something caught Anastasia’s eye, so she paused before continuing. “The show will begin soon… perhaps I should take my seat.”
“Before you go,” Hector reached inside his pocket, “an Annie Oakley  for you, dear, and my name is Hector.  Come see us again.”
“Thank you, sir. I will.”
Anastasia started into the main tent, only to find the Joey  had already begun his pre-show to entertain the children while they waited for the show to begin. After observing the Joey performing charivari  and the other performers setting up like the roustabouts  should, she came to realize that this circus was not at all like the one she had once been a part of. This circus was stuck in the old ways, still using far too many animals in their shows, and gaining bad reputations. As old fashioned as this production was, by intermission Anastasia was sold. The itchy feet were growing more and more intense.
‘I’m ready,’ she thought.
One performance in particular caught Anastasia’s undivided attention, more so than the rest. It was not typical of an old fashioned circus to present this type of act; but likewise, it was not typical of a modern show, either. Anastasia observed curiously as the young man lit his kerosene-soaked arrow, held it up to his bow, and drew back. A collective gasp was let out by the audience as the arrow hit the center of the target and the flames extinguished immediately. Anastasia felt both terrified and ever so excited simultaneously, a feeling she hadn’t felt in far too long.
At the end of the production, she emerged from the tent and slowly made her way into the midway where a familiar voice caught her by surprise.
“Why, hello again, Miss Anastasia!” Hector exclaimed as he hopped down from his platform. “I believe there is something you would like to see. Follow me dear, won’t you?”
New Beginnings
Chicago, 1906
At the sound of the bugle, Anastasia rose from her kip to find her new home for the week to follow. The show would be displayed thirteen times in Chicago before the next haul . By 1906, Circus Marvelous was a phenomenon.
“A magical blend of the old and the new,” Hector exclaimed from his platform high above the ground, just outside of the entrance to the big top. “Welcome. Welcome,” he yelled as patrons filed into the tent, being sure to give him a smile or a wave before entering.
“Are you ready?” said Archer to Anastasia from the door of her train car as she rose from her bunk.
“That, Archer, is an understatement,” Anastasia replied as she grabbed Archer’s hand and pulled him from the car out into the lot where the monstrosity of a tent was being assembled by about thirty five men in total, including Bernard, Hector, Angus, and Eric. Archer subtly gave Eric a look that resembled a glare, but after a moment, his eyes returned to Anastasia’s. “I believe the question is, are you ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.” Archer replied, with a laugh.
Just as quickly as it came, the circus was gone again, on to a new performance in a new city with a new crowd of fresh faces with eyes gleaming.