HOME | DD

Description
Chapter (2) Rawnie

Another town, another set of shows. That was how life went for Rawnie, or Ronnie, as those who found it an easier adaptation of her Roma name knew her by. But on the bulletins that were posted wherever they went, whenever her name was mentioned they spelled it Rawnie Tanzer, because it created an “exotic” air, and an “illusion of the mysterious.” Or at least that is what her mother said.
Rawnie folded her feet over her head and held the position for sometime as she thought about her life and what she had to deal with these days. Show after show and patronizing patrons. Rawnie loved acrobatics, don’t get her wrong on that point, she just didn’t always love constantly wearing a plastered on smile no matter what the exertion of performing human pretzel contortions pained her. Some days she loved showing off and contorting herself into the most impossible shapes that made the audience gasp, throwing herself from trapeze to trapeze, and hanging off the ropes like a human Christmas ornament. Everyday it was her favorite thing to do, but it wasn’t always her favorite thing to do in a crowded, stuffy, smelly, dusty, sweaty, big top circus tent.
Rawnie was most happy was when her father was coaching her and training her to further improve her performance. Rawnie had learned to love being an acrobat from her father. Now a retired acrobat he had taught Rawnie all she knew and was striving to teach her and train her beyond his own abilities. The other time when she was the happiest was when she was able to perform for a smaller more intimate audience, preferably her family and friends or the circus family. Often she and the other “circus babies” would get together and rehearse and perform miniature circuses for the adults and or small children (the real babies of the circus).
At the moment the circus was stopped in a town larger than most. What Rawnie hated the most about this was that the upper classes were more stuck up than the more privileged in the smaller towns. She quite enjoyed big towns when she was able to ignore the upper class snobs who came to enjoy seeing a performance that they imagined was for them alone when in fact La Cirque Extraordinaire was created and presented for the poor by the poor. A performance designed to entertain those who did not have the liberty to enjoy the privileges of the upper classes.
Contrary to popular belief, most of the city boys who came to see the circus were not as cocky and outspoken as some of the small town roosters she had encountered in the country. In fact city boys were shyer and much easier to tease than others and she quite enjoyed being able to taunt and flirt with them until they turned a brilliant shade of red in the face.
Rawnie unfolded herself after a series of human pretzel contortions and made her way out of her caravan and followed the alleyways through the backyard of the circus grounds. Beyond the eyes of the crowds lay the circus village, the constantly transforming, shifting, changing playground where Rawnie grew up. As she made her way through the labyrinth created of caravans and temporary housing tents, she inhaled and breathed deep the smells of the circus. Popcorn, sweat(the smell of hard work), hay to feed the animals who accompanied the circus daily and were just as much a part of the family as the humanoid performers.
And the smell of animal dung. A smell that was not unpleasant to Rawnie. That smell kept her grounded and whole, it kept her sane and tethered to the earth. As the result of spending most of her day on a trapeze sometimes she felt that she could float away with the constant feelings of weightlessness. Often after a performance she would visit with her friends that lived in cages so close to her caravan. Sheba the lion, aptly named because those who lived in the circus thought of her as a queen. Or Beno the bear, who was friendly and cuddly and nearly harmless. These, not the people of the circus, were the ones who kept her grounded and sane. These, the ones who lived in cages most of their lives were the ones who kept Rawnie from feeling above all the other, because there were animals who could tolerate living in a cage all their lives, while she had freedom to walk where she willed and even to fly. These were the ones who made her humble.
Rawnie entered the back partitions of the circus tent and found her way to her shared dressing room and prepared for that day’s show.

Description
Chapter (2) Rawnie

Another town, another set of shows. That was how life went for Rawnie, or Ronnie, as those who found it an easier adaptation of her Roma name knew her by. But on the bulletins that were posted wherever they went, whenever her name was mentioned they spelled it Rawnie Tanzer, because it created an “exotic” air, and an “illusion of the mysterious.” Or at least that is what her mother said.
Rawnie folded her feet over her head and held the position for sometime as she thought about her life and what she had to deal with these days. Show after show and patronizing patrons. Rawnie loved acrobatics, don’t get her wrong on that point, she just didn’t always love constantly wearing a plastered on smile no matter what the exertion of performing human pretzel contortions pained her. Some days she loved showing off and contorting herself into the most impossible shapes that made the audience gasp, throwing herself from trapeze to trapeze, and hanging off the ropes like a human Christmas ornament. Everyday it was her favorite thing to do, but it wasn’t always her favorite thing to do in a crowded, stuffy, smelly, dusty, sweaty, big top circus tent.
Rawnie was most happy was when her father was coaching her and training her to further improve her performance. Rawnie had learned to love being an acrobat from her father. Now a retired acrobat he had taught Rawnie all she knew and was striving to teach her and train her beyond his own abilities. The other time when she was the happiest was when she was able to perform for a smaller more intimate audience, preferably her family and friends or the circus family. Often she and the other “circus babies” would get together and rehearse and perform miniature circuses for the adults and or small children (the real babies of the circus).
At the moment the circus was stopped in a town larger than most. What Rawnie hated the most about this was that the upper classes were more stuck up than the more privileged in the smaller towns. She quite enjoyed big towns when she was able to ignore the upper class snobs who came to enjoy seeing a performance that they imagined was for them alone when in fact La Cirque Extraordinaire was created and presented for the poor by the poor. A performance designed to entertain those who did not have the liberty to enjoy the privileges of the upper classes.
Contrary to popular belief, most of the city boys who came to see the circus were not as cocky and outspoken as some of the small town roosters she had encountered in the country. In fact city boys were shyer and much easier to tease than others and she quite enjoyed being able to taunt and flirt with them until they turned a brilliant shade of red in the face.
Rawnie unfolded herself after a series of human pretzel contortions and made her way out of her caravan and followed the alleyways through the backyard of the circus grounds. Beyond the eyes of the crowds lay the circus village, the constantly transforming, shifting, changing playground where Rawnie grew up. As she made her way through the labyrinth created of caravans and temporary housing tents, she inhaled and breathed deep the smells of the circus. Popcorn, sweat(the smell of hard work), hay to feed the animals who accompanied the circus daily and were just as much a part of the family as the humanoid performers.
And the smell of animal dung. A smell that was not unpleasant to Rawnie. That smell kept her grounded and whole, it kept her sane and tethered to the earth. As the result of spending most of her day on a trapeze sometimes she felt that she could float away with the constant feelings of weightlessness. Often after a performance she would visit with her friends that lived in cages so close to her caravan. Sheba the lion, aptly named because those who lived in the circus thought of her as a queen. Or Beno the bear, who was friendly and cuddly and nearly harmless. These, not the people of the circus, were the ones who kept her grounded and sane. These, the ones who lived in cages most of their lives were the ones who kept Rawnie from feeling above all the other, because there were animals who could tolerate living in a cage all their lives, while she had freedom to walk where she willed and even to fly. These were the ones who made her humble.
Rawnie entered the back partitions of the circus tent and found her way to her shared dressing room and prepared for that day’s show.