Hot tents reek of those who have come this way before.
Who stands in front of the opening flap
Promising that for only a dollar, you can see the miraculous
Fishboy? Alive, he cries, and the statement is echoed
By the posters. Alive, the posters exclaim.
The man in line smells like tobacco, has it burnt into his tweed jacket, his felt hat,
Burnt into his skin, his fingertips, yellow from years of puffing. He has a girl
By the hand, dressed in pink and wearing a large straw hat the same color as her hair
And a ribbon the color of her eyes.
She is half his age.
They are lead to a wood-ringed pit
Where the geek hunts rats and sucks down their blood
Before spraying red-flecked spittle over the unfortunates in the first row.
It’s not real, Tobacco-man assures. Food coloring and corn starch.
The geek tears flesh from a rat’s back, filling the pit with its cries
As it rakes bloody lines down his face.
Blood dripping off his chin, blood
Oozing from open wounds and old scabs
Straw-hat pales and hides her face in the tweed jacket
As the geek shrieks back at the rat,
Tobacco-man strokes her hand, easing her worries.
They exit to another tent.
The poster exclaims Zelda and Estella
The lovely conjoined twins of Siam.
Do not give them your heart, they will tear it in two.
The girls shake Tobacco-man and Straw-hat’s hands
In unison.
One plays the piano while the other sings
And throws flowers to the crowd.
Tobacco-man picks one up and sniffs it.
It is fake and Zelda will ask for it back after the show
Or offer to sell it for a quarter.
The final tent is the one
That they have been waiting to see.
Fishboy, alive, the posters cry.
Alive.
Music plays and Fishboy floats down a ramp into his tank.
His hands and feet webbed,
A small tail on his ass,
His eyes wide and unblinking.
He has been a boy for forty-five years now and is beginning to bald.
He swims and deftly leaps through hoops watermarked from his tank.
He talks to the crowd. He is charming.
They love him, he is a star.
Straw-hat will approach the tank after the show and kiss him on the forehead.
Tobacco-man asks, why did you do that?
Because he gave us a good show.
He looked sad and lonely, she will respond.
The next morning, the hunchbacked cleaner will find Fishboy
Upside down in his tank, lungs full of water,
The mark of human kindness on his face.