Ever Dundas - Goblin

‘You okay?’

I shrugged and said, ‘Yeah. Things are getting back to normal.’

‘If you need to talk, we’re here,’ she said.

I was about to tell her about the clown troupe being awkward around me, but I shook my head and said, ‘Things are fine now.’ I smiled at her, ‘Really. I’m good.’

I finished off my beer and said, ‘How about a song before I turn in?’ And I watched dad watching mum as she sang I’ll Be Seeing You – ‘I’ll find you in the morning sun, and when the night is new, I’ll be looking at the moon, but I’ll be seeing you.’ She swayed, looking into the dying flames of our fire and I watched him, wondering if one day someone would love me the way he loved her.

The clown troupe thawed after I split with Angelina, but I was pissed with the way they’d treated me and Marv got all weird again when I was in another relationship – summer ’61 I fell in love with Tim, one of the freak-boys we picked up on our travels.

‘I thought you’d turned queer,’ said Marv. ‘Adam, Angelina, now Tim. Can’t you decide which side you play for?’

I gawped at him for a moment, unsure what to say. He wouldn’t look me in the eye.

‘I’m not on any side, Marv. Fish Boys, Glitter Queens…What does it matter?’

‘You just better be careful, that’s all I’m saying.’

‘D’ya have a problem with me, Marv?’

‘Nah, G. I’m jus’ jealous. Glitter Queen…’ He whistled. ‘Plenty woulda wanted to be in your shoes. Can’t believe you dumped her for Fish Boy.’

‘I didn’t dump her, Marv. It just ended. And Fish Boy came later.’

‘I heard you dumped her.’

I shrugged and said, ‘It was mutual.’

Marv grunted and didn’t say anything else about it after that.

We’d picked up Tim in a seaside town in the south of England. I was helping out at the ticket booth when he wandered up and said, ‘You looking for any freaks?’

I looked him up and down, this Montgomery Clift dream, and said, ‘Sure, you know any?’

He held up his left hand, fingers splayed to show me the webbing. I whistled. This sure was love at first sight.

‘I’ve worked at a sideshow in this shithole for years. I’m looking to see the world.’

‘You’ll need to speak with James and Mad. I don’t know if they’re hiring right now. Money is tight.’

‘I can earn my way.’

‘I’m sure.’

He stared at me and said, ‘I like your tattoos.’

‘I collect them,’ I said. ‘Every town and city, I get a new one.’

‘You’re beautiful,’ he said.

‘You’re a charmer,’ I said. ‘I’m not the one you should be charming. James and Mad will make the decision whether you can join us or not.’

He painted himself blue and green and called himself Fish Boy, the Wonder of the Deep. He joined me when I went for tattoos, adding to his fish scales – he had scales tattooed on every inch of his body, including his face. He looked beautiful, a stunning merman. It was the only time I didn’t join him; I didn’t want face tattoos because I didn’t like the idea of always being on show. I was sure one day I’d want to hide, to disappear in a crowd. Maisie said that was a luxury that most of the freaks didn’t have.

When I had time I’d go and watch the Freaks and Wonders performances. Ariadne and Adeline were first; Ariadne would play the accordion as Adeline sang a song. They were on a rotating platform so people could look at where they were joined together. The main stage in Freaks and Wonders was for the dwarves, Old Louise and her brass band; she’d mesmerise the audience with her beautiful voice. Lenny the giant would play the tambourine but he was a terrible musician and was only there to emphasise the extremes of stature. As the dwarves performed people would stand in line for Morgana, The Fat Lady fortune teller. She’d wear a skimpy outfit, usually a homemade bikini embellished with sequins, so that people could ogle her curves and folds of fat as she told them their fate.

Fish Boy and I were next up. Clowning and the animals were my priorities, but after hooking up with Fish Boy I helped him with his act and did some stints as The Tattooed Woman. I’d flex my muscles and tell stories of pirates and sea monsters. I’d tell the story of a Goblin-child hunting for her long-lost brother only to find he was enchanted, turned into a merman, the memory of his previous life lost.

Fish Boy played his part in my story, becoming my merman brother. We made his fish tail together, matching the blues and greens of his tattoos. He’d swim in a tank of water, sometimes hovering at the glass, his webbed hands pressed up against it for the kids to see. When our story was finished he’d flick his tail, splashing the kids who would run off screaming, straight to the Lizard King who was waiting to tell them the story of how he cried tears of acid.

I watched the kids watching him as he told the story we’d told in the Underground during the war. The kids were spellbound; he was a real hit. On their way out after the show Morgana would be waiting, selling rubber lizards with glued-on crowns. France, Spain, Belgium, Czechoslovakia, West Germany, 1961 – 1964

Dad took the circus further afield, travelling through Europe. As we travelled, we picked up people along the way. Over fifteen years since the war had ended and people were still trying to escape; memories, loss, poverty. They were the displaced, the dispossessed, those with no family, uprooted by the war and unable to settle back into their old lives. We’d picked up many people who’d been persecuted by the Nazis, but no one talked about it. The Eichmann trial was on everyone’s lips everywhere we went, but we hardly mentioned it. We were in Belgium the day he was hanged. A small group gathered together and sat in a circle, each with a glass of whisky. I watched them. No one spoke. They drank their whisky and the group dissolved.

Our clown troupe had been myself, Marv, Ali and Paul for years, but Horatiu joined us in 1963. We picked him up in a small town in France on our way back home. He’d been working as a mime in theatre and in the streets. He was from Romania but had fled when the post-war Communist Party arrested and tried his father as a collaborator, threatened the rest of the family, and killed his friend. This was what mum had told me, but Horatiu wouldn’t talk about his time in Romania when Ali quizzed him, and I let him be; there was a quiet understanding between us both. The past should stay in the past. He freely spoke about his time in France; he was queer and didn’t hide it, regaling us with tales of his affairs. I thought the clown troupe, especially Marv, would bristle at his sexual exploits, but they enjoyed his stories.

‘Why so easy on Horatiu, Marv?’

‘What’s that, G?’

‘You had a problem with me and Angelina, but not Horatiu.’

He continued applying his make-up then said, ‘That’s different.’

‘How so?’

‘Horatiu is honest.’

I didn’t respond and stared at myself in the mirror, Goblin disappearing, becoming clown. I smeared on the lipstick, going over my fake smile again and again until it was a deep obscene red.

‘I told you – I don’t play for any side,’ I said, looking into my eyes.

He grunted. I closed one eye and drew in a vertical line, a black scar.

I’d sometimes spend the night in Fish Boy’s caravan. When I returned, Groo would be waiting for me, complaining. The morning she wasn’t there, I called for her and heard her faint voice. I got down on my knees. She was lying under the bed, lifting her head to meow at me.

‘Hey, Groo. C’mon out, whatcha doin’ under there?’