I never should have gone back

I recall a day in the summer when I was six.

Most of my memories from that age are vague and come in pieces. The wooden pillars along

the half wall that divided our living room from the kitchen. The trees that lined the yard behind

the old garage. The sound of tires grinding over the gravel in our driveway when my dad came

home from work.

I don’t recall what I ate for breakfast that morning or what cartoons I watched. What I do

remember is that I was going to my favorite place in the whole world.

The Bellwether Family Circus.

It was a local circus located several miles outside of my small hometown where I grew up.

Marlow, Wisconsin. The circus was run in the few months we had summer before the leaves

began to fall. Marlow was a lot like any small Wisconsin town. We were surrounded by farmland,

forest, and steep wooded hills. People from the larger cities just a short drive away always came

to town with their families to visit the circus.

Gas stations lined up with cars. The restaurants stayed open later. Storefronts displayed hand

painted signs welcoming visitors. For a few months out of the year, our small town felt important.

My parents knew how much I loved going. More than anything, I always talked about how my

favorite part was the closing puppet show.

At six years old, there was nothing more spectacular.

My parents and I climbed into our old Jeep and headed out of town. I sat in the back seat,

watching the farm fields dotted with cows, and tree covered hills pass outside my window.

Eventually, the first handpainted sign appeared beside the road

BELLWETHER FAMILY CIRCUS

NEXT RIGHT

A smiling Ringmaster below the text pointed toward the turn.

I remember my mother looking back at me, and we shared a smile.

The circus put on many of the same acts every year. Occasionally, the Bellwethers

experimented with new stage shows, but for the most part, the attractions remained the same. I

didn't mind seeing the same things again. To me, they never felt the same. There were trapeze

artists, animal performances, carnival games, and comedy shows run by clowns.

The moment we entered the grounds, we were surrounded by the smell of popcorn, wet grass,

and animal cages. Music played from the loudspeakers mounted on poles throughout the park.

Employees in striped uniforms shouted invitations to games and attractions while children ran

between the tents carrying balloons and sticks of cotton candy.

At some point that afternoon, my mother and I rode one of the elephants. I remember sitting in

front of her and holding tightly to the wooden seat as the animal swayed beneath us.

Then the music stopped.

A voice crackled through the loudspeakers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, the final performance of the evening will begin shortly in

the Grand Pavilion. Come and witness the wonders of the Bellwether Ringmaster.”

Once we finished our loop on the elephant ride. I nearly pulled my mother off the elephant trying

to climb down.

“Slow down Alex.” She said laughing as we approached my waiting father. “The show isn't going

anywhere.”

I took her hand and dragged her through the crowd anyway. My father followed several steps

behind us, carrying the bags and prizes we had collected throughout the day.

By the time we reached the Grand Pavilion, the entrance was already crowded. I pulled on my

mother’s arm until we managed to find seats close to the front.

I remember looking up at her just before the show began. She had what looked like a worried

look on her face which made me uncomfortable for a moment. But when she noticed me

watching, she quickly smiled again and put her arm around my shoulders.

The lights dimmed.

A spotlight appeared at the center of the stage.

And...the Ringmaster stepped into it.

He wore a long red coat with golden buttons, polished black boots, and a tall hat that made him

seem enormous. His booming voice echoed and filled the tent without the help of a microphone.

He commanded a lion to perform tricks. He released white doves from his sleeves. And at one

point, he breathed a column of fire so high that I was certain it would ignite the roof of the tent.

After every performance, the audience applauded.

Then came the moment I had been waiting for.

“And now,” the Ringmaster announced, “the performance our distinguished youngest guests

have waited so patiently to see.”

Children throughout the audience began to cheer.

“The Bellwether Puppet Spectacular.”

The curtains opened to a painted kingdom filled with castles, forest, and strange creatures.

There were funny characters, sword fights, and flashes of fire from the evil dragon. The story

had changed slightly every year, but it always ended the same way.

The prince slayed the dragon and the princess was rescued.

The two wooden puppets kissed beneath a shower of golden sparks.

I always thought that was so beautiful.

The audience rose in applause. The Ringmaster stepped into the center of the stage and took a

deep bow.

He lifted his head slightly during his bow.

When he lifted his head, he looked directly at me. Atleast, that's how it seemed.

There were hundreds of people in the crowd, but I could have sworn his eyes found mine. His

painted smile widened slightly below his curled black mustache.

Then, the curtains closed.

The overhead lights came back on, and the audience began filing towards the exits. Everywhere

around us, everyone was talking excitedly about what they witnessed.

My parents and I were getting close to the front gates when the loudspeakers crackled again.

This time, the cheerful music became muffled and a tired voice came over it. Sounding more

annoyed than concerned, it said “Jimmy Primm, please report to the main office. Jimmy Primm,

your parents are waiting.”

The music then continued playing.

No one around us seemed to pay much attention to it.

That was the last time my parents took me to the circus regularly.

As I grew older, my interest changed. We started going every other year and then not at all. The

final time I visited Bellwether, I was eleven. By then, the costumes looked cheaper, the jokes

seemed childish, and the puppets were only painted pieces of wood hanging from strings.

The magic was gone.

Not long afterwards, the Bellwether family began having personal issues in their family. Animal

rights activists protested outside the gates. Former employees made accusations about their

treatment by the family and the treatment of the animals. Local news stations even began

connecting the circus to a few missing-child cases of the dozens reported in the area.

Bellwether Family Circus eventually closed.

I remember brief glimpses of the coverage on the television we watched while eating dinner.

The Bellwether family entered the courthouse with coats pulled over their heads. Former

employees being questioned by police. Reporters standing outside the gates of the Circus

reading their prompts while the signs of the circus swayed in the wind behind them.

Most of the employees claimed they knew nothing beyond their individual jobs. They

complained about their treatment to the reporters. The verbal abuse from the family. The

strange, obsessive behavior from the Ringmaster.

The Ringmaster disappeared before any investigators could question him and no one was ever

convicted.

Old man Bellwether died shortly after the hearings. His remaining heir, his widowed daughter

inherited what remained of the family fortune. She made it very clear that she wanted nothing to

do with the circus and to be kept alone hidden inside her mansion surrounded by trees and a tall

iron fence.

I did not hear the Bellwether name much after that besides the occasional patron bringing it up

at a local eatery

That Christmas, I finally got my own Playstation 2, which I had been begging for over the last

several months. I recall, it gave me the same excitement I used to feel whenever we went to the

circus. Soon, the circus and the Bellwethers drifted to what they should have remained: Childhood memories.

Years later, I stood in the kitchen of the Marlow Burger Barn, scraping grease from the metal

grill.

Half the restaurant's lights had already been turned off. Out front, Jess moved between the

empty tables with a mop, quietly singing along to the radio playing above the counter.

I thought to myself, she could make anything look good. Even mopping the floor of a fast food

restaurant.

I had never been confident enough to tell her stuff like that. We had been dating for almost two

years, but I still worried that saying the wrong thing would somehow ruin everything.

Instead we talked about work and what we planned to do in the fall. We just graduated a couple

weeks earlier and both intended to attend the same technical college up the highway in one of

the larger cities. It wasn't glamorous, but we would be able to commute from home and save

money.

Jess and I finished closing shortly before midnight. She counted the final register while I

gathered up the large black trash bags. When we stepped through the backdoor, Ryan was

waiting in the parking lot, leaning against the hood of his truck. A big “M” on his green letter

jacket shined under the one light in the parking lot left on.

Our friend Ryan was going to a university full ride on a football scholarship. Because he

certainly wasn't getting in because of his grades.

Mud had dried around the lower legs of Ryan’s jeans. The smell of manure followed him across

the back gravel lot.

I locked the door, Jess stopped beside me.

“Absolutely not.” she said in a nasally tone, closing her nose.

Ryan looked down at himself “What?”

“You smell like a farm.”

“I came straight from work.”

“So did we,” She said, “Neither of us smell like livestock.”

Ryan glanced at me looking for my support.

I pretended to examine the darkened restaurant windows.

“Alex?” he begged

“Im staying out of it.”

Jess looked at me. “Thats the smartest thing you’ve said all night.”

Ryan shook his head and opened the driver's side door.

“You two getting in or not?”

Jess climbed in before me into the passenger seat forcing me into the middle. The cab smelled

like animal feed, old coffee, and the pine-shaped air freshener hanging from the mirror that

probably stopped working several years earlier.

Ryan started the engine.

“You brought the flashlights? Right?” Jess asked.

“Behind the seats.” pointing back with his thumb.

“Batteries?”

“They turn on, don't they?”

“That wasn't my question.”

Ryan let out a sigh. “Yes mom. They have batteries.”

We pulled onto County Road H, leaving the lights of Marlow behind us.Jess rested her hand on

my knee as the Burger Barn disappeared in the side mirror.

The further we drove, the more familiar the road became. I remember sitting in the back seat of

my parents' Jeep, watching the hand painted signs appear on the trees.

ELEPHANTS

ACROBATS

THE AMAZING BELLWETHER BROTHERS

I could almost hear the circus music.

“Alex?”

Jess squeezed my knee.

I blinked and turned my head to her. “Sorry. I was just thinking.”

Ryan glanced over and let out a brief laugh. “Dont hurt yourself.”

Jess reached across and gave him a light punch.

“Leave him alone.”

“Im fine.” I said

Neither of them answered.

The road narrowed as we entered the hills. Trees crowded both sides, their branches meeting

above us. Ryan switched on the high beams.

A faded wooden sign appeared ahead.

BELLWETHER FAMILY CIRCUS

NEXT RIGHT

Most of the paint had peeled away, but the Ringmaster’s smiling face was still visible

underneath the lettering.

Ryan slowed the truck.

“There it is,” he said.

Jess leaned forward. “Thats significantly creepier than you described.”

“I told you it was abandoned.” Ryan replied

“You forgot to mention the giant creepy murderer face.”

Ryan laughed and turned onto the gravel road.

I twisted my head around to look at the sign as we passed

For a moment, the Ringmasters' painted eyes seemed to follow us. But the trees blocked it from

view, and we pulled into the empty parking lot.

We got out of the truck but didn’t head to the gates right away. Jess threw on her favorite purple

and white striped sweater. It was a mild night so I decided my work uniform above my t-shirt was

good enough.

Ryan reached behind his seat and pulled out what remained of a six-pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon.

He handed one can to Jess and another to me before taking the last for himself.

Jess examined the can. “Warm beer. You really know how to treat your guests.”

“It was cold when I stole it.”

“When was that?”

Ryan thought about it. “Tuesday.”

She turned to look at me. “If I go blind, tell my parents I died doing something meaningful.”

“You’ll be fine,” Ryan said, cracking his can open, foam seeping out the small hole in the can.

“Alcohol doesn’t go bad.”

Jess raised an eyebrow. “Now that might be the smartest thing you’ve ever said.”

“I know things,” he quickly replied.

“Right, like what?”

Ryan ignored her.

We sat around the truck for a while, talking about what we planned to do after summer ended.

Jess talked about the technical college and apartment she hoped we could eventually afford.

Ryan complained about the university’s required classes and jokingly insisted that the football

scholarship should exempt him from anything involving math.

“You still have to pass your classes.” Jess reminded him.

“I’ll pass.”

“Oh yeah, how?”

Ryan pointed at me. “He’ll help me.”

“I’m not your professor.” I said.

“You’ve got an email.” he sarcastically reminded me

Jess laughed. “He’s planning to cheat, and he hasn’t even started yet.”

“I never said cheat. I said help.”

“Those are different words.” I said.

“Exactly.” Ryan assured.

For a few minutes everything felt normal. It was just the three of us sitting in an empty parking

lot beneath the stars. Listening to the sounds of the cicadas, crickets, and mosquitoes buzzing

near our faces, pretending we knew what the rest of our lives would look like.

Jess looked past us toward the dark circus grounds.

“So, what was this place actually like?”

She had moved to Marlow after the family closed the grounds. She knew the stories everyone in

town repeated, but she had never seen the circus when it was operating.

“It was different,” I said. “There were lights everywhere. Music playing from the speakers.

People came in from all over the area.”

“And the animals?”

“Elephants, horses, lions. Maybe a bear. I don’t remember everything.”

“You remembered enough to drag us all the way out here.”

“This was Ryan’s idea.”

Ryan lifted his beer. “You're welcome.”

Jess kept watching me. “And the missing kids?”

I took a drink before answering.

“There were accusations. A few children disappeared during the years the circus was open.

Then there were protests about the animals, lawsuits, police investigations. Everything sort of all

happened at once.”

“How many children?”

“I don’t know.”

‘You grew up here.”

“That doesn’t mean people told me everything. There was never a confirmed amount. Just a few

that I know of.”

Jess studied my face for a moment. Her expression had gone blank in the way it sometimes did

when she was trying to decide to push me or leave something alone.

Ryan finished his beer and threw the empty can on the ground. He brought his dirt covered boot

down on it with a sharp metallic crunch.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go.”

Jess looked at the flattened can.

“You're picking that up before we leave.”

“Place is covered in garbage.”

“So you thought it needed more?”

“I’ll get it later.”

“You won’t.”

“I might.”

“You won’t.” she said under her breath.

Ryan started walking, spreading out his arms. “Then you can remind me.”

“I already am.”

Ryan ignored her and we followed him across the parking lot towards the entrance. A tall

wooden wall stretched along the front of the property, separating the circus grounds from the

road and parking lot. Much of it had rotted or collapsed inward.

The surviving sections were covered in graffiti, faded advertisements, and posters left over from

the circus’ final seasons. Local banks, restaurants, and car dealerships promised discounts that

had expired years ago. Smiling performers stared out from beneath the layers of dirt and spray

paint.

We were nearing the front gates when one poster stopped me.

Most of it was torn away, but the upper half remained attached to the wall by two rusted staples.

Large black letters faded to gray

MISSING

JIMMY PRIMM

Beneath the name was part of a sentence.

IF FOUND, PLEAS-

The rest of the poster was gone.

I stepped closer.

Jimmy Primm.

I knew that name. The cheerful music playing over the circus loudspeakers. The crowd walking

towards the exits. The tired voice making an announcement that no one seemed to hear.

Jimmy Primm, please report to the main office.

“Alex?”

Jess had stopped beside me.

“What?”

“You're doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

She followed my eyes to the poster on the wall.

“Did you know him?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

I hesitated. “Heard his name here once.”

“When?”

“When I was a kid. They called his name over the speakers after one of the shows.”

Jess looked back at the poster. “Maybe he got lost and they found him.”

“The poster says missing.”

“I know. I’m just saying it might not have been the same day.”

“It was probably nothing.” I said.

Jess turned to me. “Well, I hope they found him.”

Before I could answer, Ryan called from several paces ahead.

“You two planning to stare at garbage all night?”

“It’s a missing-child poster.” Jess said.

Ryan took a couple steps back towards us, the crunch of gravel below his boots.

“There are dozens of those stories.”

“This one is real.” She replied.

“Doent mean he disappeared here.”

“Oh now that is comforting.”

Ryan gestured impatiently. “Come on.”

The entrance consisted of several metal turnstiles set between two brick ticket booths. The

ticket booths stood open and empty, their windows broken or covered in dust. The gates were

rusted and lightly chained together, though previous visitors had bent the bars apart enough to

create a narrow opening.

Jess slipped through first.

I followed sideways, scraping the back of my shirt against the metal.

Ryan tried after me, but his shoulders caught between the bars.

Jess looked back at him. “Too many muscles?”

“Shut up.”

“Maybe the circus had a larger entrance for livestock.” she joked.

Ryan gave a sarcastic grin and backed up.

“Don’t.” I said.

He lowered his shoulder and slammed into the gate. The metal shaking, but held.

“Ryan,” Jess warned.

He backed up and hit it again.

On the third attempt, one of the rusted bars snapped free from its base. The gate fell inwards

with the sound of twisting metal. The sound echoed through the circus grounds, traveling

between attractions until it disappeared somewhere far beyond them.

For several seconds, none of us moved.

I stared at Ryan.

Jess folded her arms. “Subtle.”

Ryan sat up and shrugged.

“You could have broken your shoulder.” Jess warned.

“I work on a farm, I’m used to wrestling those cows into their pens.”

Jess just rolled her eyes and smiled as the two of us helped him up.

We continued down the path.

Beyond the gates the circus opened up around us.

Moonlight illuminated rows of abandoned attractions. Weeds that grown through the dirt paths.

Torn banners hung from poles and swayed slightly in the breeze.

A carousel sat near the entrance.

Jess pointed towards it. “Come on. Let’s check that out.”

Up close, the ride looked like something out of a post-apocalyptic movie. Most of its paint had

peeled away, exposing gray wood underneath. Several of the horses were missing legs, eyes,

or sections of their faces. Vines had grown up onto the platform latching on to the poles holding

the structure up.

I looked beyond it.

Everything else appeared to have suffered the same fate.

Jess stepped onto the carousel and climbed onto a white unicorn. Most of its golden horn had

broken off and black mildew covered one side of its painted face.

She sat sideways across the saddle and struck an exaggerated pose.

“So, how do I look?”

I smiled.

“Great,” I said quietly.

She leaned toward me. “What was that?”

“I said you look great.”

From somewhere behind a nearby carnival booth, Ryan groaned.

“Get a room.”

Jess and I shared a look and smiled.

“You're just jealous.” she yelled out.

“Of what? Mold poisoning?”

We climbed down and followed his voice to see what Ryan had gotten himself up to.

He was setting up large white bottles in a pyramid on a little table inside of an old ball toss

game. Ryan passed me an old baseball covered in dirt and patches of green moss.

“Go first.”

I stepped up to the counter and wiped the ball against my shirt. I wanted to knock the bottles

over mostly because I knew Ryan expected me to miss. I pulled my arm back and threw. The

mossy ball slipped from my hand and sailed wide right. We heard the thud as it struck the

wooden back wall falling into the overgrown weeds without touching a single bottle.

No one said anything but Jess gave me a sympathetic smile.

Ryan slowly stepped forward.

“Professional demonstration,” he said.

“You played football, not baseball.” I reminded him.

“Eh, throwing is throwing,” he said.

Ryan wound up and threw the ball with what looked like all of his strength. It struck the center of

the pyramid. The bottles flew from the platform they stood on with a loud series of cracks and

clatters. Several rolled across the floor behind the counter.

Jess and I applauded.

Ryan turned and gave a deep bow.

“Thank you. Thank you.”

Jess reached behind the counter and found an old stuffed bear with one eye and most of its fur

missing. She presented it to him.

“Your prize, sir.”

Ryan accepted it with both hands. “I’ll cherish him forever.”

“What are you naming him?” I asked.

Of course, he had to name the bear, Alex Junior.

Jess laughed.

I reached for the bear. “Give me that.”

Ryan tucked the bear into his letter jacket beneath his arm and walked away.

We continued along the main path, stopping to look at the ruined games and attractions. Jess

stayed close beneath my arm. Ryan followed behind us, occasionally throwing a rock through

some already broken glass or wandering away to inspect something that caught his attention.

“You know you don’t have to destroy everything you see,” Jess told him.

“It was already broken.”

“That window wasn’t.”

“It had a crack.”

“That isn’t the same thing.” rolling her eyes.

“It is now.”

Eventually, Jess and I sat on a bench beneath an old dormant string of lights. Above us, the

moon was almost full. Its glow turned the circus tents and abandoned rides into pale silhouettes.

Ryan wandered somewhere behind us.

Jess leaned in against my shoulder. “You really used to love this place?”

“More than anything from what I remember.”

“What happened?”

“I grew up I guess.”

“That’s depressing.”

“It happens.”

She looked back to the outline of the Grand Pavilion

“Do you remember your last time here?”

“Not much of it.”

“Nothing?”

“Pieces.”

She went quiet for a moment.

“Maybe coming here would help you remember.”

I turned my head to look at her. “I’m not sure I want to.”

Before she could answer, Ryan called out from somewhere behind us. His voice sounded

different now. His usual confidence was gone.

“Guys?”

We turned towards the darkness. We saw a flashlight beam move between two abandoned

booths.

“I think you should come look at this.”

Jess and I made our ways over to Ryan’s discovery. He had wandered into the remains of the

circus’ old souvenir photo booth. Located near the carousel. I remember families would have

their pictures taken there after the closing show. As we got closer we saw he was holding an

album open.

“That kid from the poster,” Ryan said. “Jimmy. This is him, isnt it?”

Jess leaned over the album. “How would I know?”

“The names written underneath.”

Jimmy Primm, age seven. Scared of clowns. Final performance.

I stared at the photograph. Jimmy looked younger than expected. He was smiling beside the

Ringmaster, holding a souvenir wooden prince puppet against his chest.

“Final performance,” Jess read. “Does that mean the last show of the night?”

“Probably,” I hesitantly said.

Ryan looked at me. “You say ‘probably’ a lot when you're scared.”

“Im not scared.”

“Then why do you look like that?”

Jess turned another page and stopped. “Alex?” She said in a worrisome tone.

I followed her eyes. A little boy sat in the front row with his parents. His hair was shorter, and he

was missing one of his front teeth, but I recognized him immediately.

Ryan’s eyes slowly went from the photograph to meet my eyes. “Well that's not creepy at all.”

The photo was of me. It had my name written with some other text similar to Jimmy’s.

Alex, aged six. Favorite performance: puppets. Returning Guest.

Jess ran her finger beneath the written note. “How did they know the puppet show was your

favorite?”

“I probably told someone.” - But I really couldn't remember.

Then Jess noticed it first.

“Guys, do you hear that?”

Ryan looked up. “Hear what?”

“Exactly”

The sound of the wind, the singing of the cicadas and crickets, the buzzing mosquitoes. They

were all gone. It was silent.

We backed away from the booth. We looked at each other and gave a couple of puzzled looks.

But before anyone would be able to question the sound's absence, we were met with an

enchanting familiar smell.

Ryan grabbed an old piece of wood. Some sort of structural pillar to a collapsed booth. But

perfect enough to be an improvised weapon.

We huddled up and followed the smell that drifted through the midway. Ryan led ahead.

Eventually the warm smell of fresh popcorn led us to an old abandoned concession stand.

Inside, everything was filthy and powerless. The popcorn machine is empty, but one fresh piece

of popcorn sits on the counter.

Ryan touches it and discovers it’s still warm.

“Someone else is here.” He says after. He sets down the single piece of popcorn and grips his

improvised weapon tight.

Jess stared at the piece of popcorn. She whispered “Who comes to an abandoned circus to

make one piece?”

“Maybe they're on a diet.” Ryan quickly responded, hoping comedy would improve the situation.

All of a sudden the loudspeakers crackle.

At first, they only produce static and a few distinct notes from the old circus theme. Then the

same bored voice Alex remembers says, “Jimmy Primm, please report to the main office.”

After a pause, the voice adds something that Alex does not remember from childhood.

“Your performance is ready.”

Then the speakers shut off. They see a small figure cross the midway between two attractions.

Followed by a child's laughter.

Jess calls out, “Hey! Are you ok?”

The small figure disappears behind the entrance to the funhouse.

“I’m done with this!” Ryan angrily exclaims walking forward to the funhouse.

Jess catches his arm. “Done as in leaving?”

“Done as in finding whoever is messing with us.”

“Ryan” she yelled, but she was not about to go after him alone.

When Ryan got halfway across the midway the circus came alive around us.

Strings of colored bulbs stretched across the midway flickering in patterns above the abandoned

attractions. The carousel turned slowly in the distance, its warped music mixing with the bells

and whistles of carnival games. Somewhere nearby, a mechanical clown laughed over and over

again.

Jess and I stood frozen beneath the lights.

“What the hell is happening?” She asked.

I did not have an answer frantically looking around.

Jess turned towards the entrance and her expression changed.

“Alex.”

I followed her eyes.

The front gates were gone. There was no wooden wall, no ticket booths, and no opening

leading to the parking lot. The midway continued into darkness as though the entrance had

never existed.