?That?s enough! I?m sick of your bickering! We?ve got a show here! A good one! And all you can do is play with your wretched guitar! I won?t have it! You must rehearse! We need to keep this show going! If you won?t rehearse, you won?t perform! What good to me are you?!?
Her guitar hung from her shoulder. She held it readied, fingers steady above the strings as if she was interrupted mid-song by the perpetrator. She said nothing. Eyes of solid stone looked to the yelling man before her. She didn?t know what to say.
?Please, Virgil, calm down. She?s plenty practiced. I?ve been doing this routine with her ever since she could walk! She doesn?t need as much rehearsal time as the other acrobats do.?
Still, the guitarist kept her lips closed. Eyes would move back and forth between the quarrelsome duo before her eyes. She watched in silence, as if waiting for a moment of quiet so she may resume playing her music.
?I don?t care! This is ridiculous! She?s always playing that damned guitar! She even sleeps with that thing! I?m telling you, Gloria, we shouldn?t have let Beau give her guitar lessons all those years ago! It?s ruined her Circus career!?
Finally, the guitarist spoke.
?Mom, dad. I don?t want to be in the circus anymore. I want...? She drifted in her words, glancing over her shoulder into the night behind her. The stars were brilliantly radiant. Like countless diamonds scattered across the sky.
?And what is it you think you want, Chase? To wander from place to place like your other relatives? To live in a suitcase and just play your guitar?! You?ve got a home here! You?ve got family!?
?Virgil?? Gloria, his wife, placed a hand on his red-coated shoulder. The red coat of a Ringmaster. ?We were that age too, once. It?s in her blood. She?s a Rosewind??
Chase looked to her mother, Gloria, more intently than before. Like awakening from a trance, she looked to her mother with more engagement. She said nothing.
The Ringmaster, Virgil, looked to his wife, the acrobat. His eyes weakened from cruel to forlorn. He knew she was right. Their daughter was of Gypsy blood. Pure, beautiful, Gypsy blood. His eyes closed. A great ache tugged at his heart. He loved his daughter.
Chase spoke. ?I can?t stay bound to this caravan any longer. There?s so much out there I haven?t seen. I want-?
?To see it all? To be free?? The Ringmaster knew her explanation before she even told it to him. He too felt that way when he was young. And now, he?s passed it on to his beloved daughter.
Chase nodded a soft, single nod. The girl was 16. Her guitar was brown and battered with use and age. Handed down to her by her beloved uncle, Beau, before he passed away. It was as much apart of her as the hands of hers that knew how to use it.
Gloria, the acrobat, sighed. She too closed her eyes. ?I knew this time would come, someday. Ever since you were a baby in my arms, Chase, I knew we?d have to let you go one day. And now?s the time, isn?t it??
?Mom, I?ve already made arrangements. I have a carriage coming in the morning. It will take me to the nearest city. I?ve saved enough money for two weeks worth. After that?well?? Chase smiled. For the first time that night, she smiled.
Virgil, her father, smiled with her. ?You?ll cross that bridge when you get there?? He envisioned himself where his daughter now stood. He remembered telling his father the very same thing. Except, of course, he had no guitar. His hand came to rest upon Gloria?s that still rested on his shoulder. He squeezed it tight. It was time.
Chase smiled a little wider, nodding. Her mother came forward, hugging her beloved daughter tightly. Chase hugged her mother the best she could, but couldn?t do too well considering her bulky guitar hung between them.
?Whatever happens, Chase, you?ll always have a home and job. Just look for the caravan, it will find you. Call us for anything. We?ll call you from time to time to check up on you, Rose.? Her mother bit her lip. Her eyes were glassy with tears.
Virgil, her father, came forward when the two parted from their embrace. He cupped his daughter?s beautiful face with his white-gloved hands, bringing it to his lips. He kissed her forehead tenderly as well as the top of her head. ?Chasey, we?re packing up and moving to the next location tonight. Will you?be staying behind?? He knew her answer, once again. He couldn?t help himself.
Chase bit her bottom lip gently, shrugging. ?I won?t put down my tent until tomorrow morning. Dad?? She blinked, and a duet of tears poured down the corners of both her Gypsy eyes. ?I?m staying here for the night??
Her parents nodded. Then, a random suited clown walked by yelling to them urgently. ?Virg, we need to get going! The trailers are all packed. We?re good to go!? The clown?s makeup was smeared to reveal a normal man underneath, and he scurried to hop into a truck, buckling up.
The Ringmaster nodded to his subordinate, looking to his wife. ?Gloria, we need to move. Everyone?s ready?? His voice was soft, and broken hearted.
Gloria nodded, looking back to her daughter with eyes of a crying, loving mother. ?Chasey, we?re always here for you. We still have you as the heir to the Circus. That?s never changing. When your father and I have passed on, the Circus will be yours. Be safe, Chasey. I love you...? Her mother lunged forward to plant a desperate kiss on her daughter?s cheek, stroking the girl?s young, delicate cheek afterwards.
?Love you too, Mom and Dad. Break a leg.? She said softly, blowing a kiss to them sincerely. The tear streaks were proudly visible on her face. She dared not wipe them away. It showed her love of her family.
By the hand, Virgil tugged his wife away from their daughter. The leading truck, striped red and white, was revving and waiting for them. They both cried, and waved to their daughter a final time as they climbed in the front seat. They both looked out the window.
The truck drove off, a line of a dozen cars following behind it. All the performers waved their hats and blew kisses to their most valuable member, Chase. They all saw her as one of their own. It was a tight-knit Circus group. The Rosewind Circus always was.
With her guitar held readily, the Gypsy teenager waved to all of them, laughing. Slowly, she walked with the cars, walking after them a few feet until they were out of view. They were gone. It was all up to her now. At last, she was on her own.
