Page 10 of He Likes it Spicy
We’re all in the midst of our post-show-sugar-rush when Charles bursts through the flap and throws his arms up like he’s trying to summon fire. “Samantha!”
Time to face the music.
“Oh, hey, Charles…” I try to act nonchalant. “I’m sure you’re wondering about that little bit in the middle there. I can explain…”
“Explain? Explain!?” He stomps right up to me, puts his hands on my shoulders, and pulls me into a big, bouncing hug. “Explain how much that crowd loved it!? Listen.Listen!” He puts a hand to his ear dramatically as if we can’t feel the roar of the audience. “Youseizedthem, Samantha! You brought them to rapturing heights! Ascended! My… my… Tell me, how did you choose the man? He even looks a bit mythical himself. Why, he could match Hilda in a test of strength! A Nordic God!”
Hilda scoffs, already having a beer, still sweaty from lifting audience members over her head. “As if.”
“I jest!” Charles twirls, clearly in a fine mood. To him, applause equals money. “But, tell me, Samantha: how did you choose that God of a man out there?”
“Haven’t you heard?” Mark laughs, clearly feeling good after his better-than-usual performance. “That’s the Chili King of the Sweetheart County Fair. They’re the talk of the fairgrounds. Everyone knows they’ve got something simmering…”
My circus family whistles and gives me a hard time. Clearly, I’m blushing like a schoolgirl because Charles looks absolutely horrified.
“What?How did you meet this man?”
“The cook-off,” I say. “You know, that stupid thing you made me judge to sell more tickets? Thor won the competition last year. He showed me the ropes today.”
“Thor!?” Charles whines as if the name pains him. “Oh, no. No. No. NO, Samantha. You know how I feel about carnival romances. Distraction! Unnecessary risk! A lack of focus! Need I remind everyone of Mark’s little affair in Ohio? We all know how that turned out...”
Mark loses his smile in an instant; the clowns do their best to comfort the poor guy and his broken heart.
I shrug, already heading back out through the flap. “Like you said, Charles, the crowd loved it.”
“Focus!”
The tent has mostly emptied, only a small gaggle of people are still shuffling out. A few stop me for photos, and I happily oblige. Thor is sitting on the hay bales, watching me cross the arena with a smile on his face. The rose is still in his hand.
“That was quite the show,” he calls out to me.
I point my toes and twirl into a few Chaplin-esque stumbling steps.
Thor claps, careful not to damage the rose.
“Bravo,” he says. “That was extraordinary. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Really?”
I jump onto the hay, scooting in so close that our elbows brush.
“Truly. I did not know clowns could pull from such emotion…”
I punch his beefy leg.
“No. No, seriously,” he says, holding my gaze. “You’re remarkable, Sam. I was mesmerized.” He holds up the rose. “And thank you…”
We both blush, but I try to act casual.
“I thought I’d spice up my routine.” I shrug. “A magician friend of mine showed me that trick. Sorry it’s fake. A real flower would have been obliterated in my unitard halfway through my routine.”
“It still smells lovely,” he says softly. “Can I keep it?”
I nudge him gently. “It’s yours. Consider it a thank you for getting me through the cook-off.”
“I thought the VIP ticket was my thank you?”
“Oh, yeah.” I throw him a wink. “I guess you owe me, Thor.”
