Early Taste

After Mom went to her parents’ farm, everyone changed. Mike became more withdrawn and timid, while Billy’s anger grew worse and worse. Dad didn’t smile or laugh anymore, and the only times he really showed any emotion was when Billy lashed out. Dad became more reclusive, and spent most of his time in his private room or at work.

The family went on like this for months, with an unchanging, gloomy atmosphere throughout the house. Until one day Dad decided to take me to Circus Baby’s Pizza World. “The two of us need a break,” he said.

We were going to an early private opening, before its doors opened to the general public. A lot of Dad’s employees were there with their own kids, some of who I knew from school. But I didn’t wave to any of them. Dad was keeping me busy, guiding me through the building while he showed me what he and Mom had spent two years of their lives on.  We started with Funtime Auditorium.

“This one’s Funtime Foxy,” he said. He pointed to a pink and white fox, standing on her own stage. She had Foxy’s snout and ears, but was recognizably female. “You can think of her as Foxy’s sister. Say hello to her.”

“Hi,” I said while waving.  She waved back and squawked “Hi, Iris!”. I giggled, because it sounded like my own voice.

“HELLO!”, somebody yelled from behind us.
“And that’s Funtime Freddy,” Dad said as he turned me around to see him. He looked just like Freddy, but shinier and with a Bonnie puppet. “He’s Freddy’s brother.”

“He doesn’t write much, “ said Bonnie.
“But we’re still friends,” Funtime Freddy added.  He stared off into space for a second, and then said “I have to go, there’s a birthday boy to attend to” in an excited voice. He walked away, chattering with Bonnie. Dad stared at him as he walked down the hallway, before turning back to me.

“Your mother came up with those two,” Dad explained.  “They were originally going to be all pink and white, but then she came up with the purple coloring on Freddy.”
“Why purple?”
“It was her favorite color.”

It was then that I noticed the prevalence of dark blues and violets in the restaurant’s interior. Even if Mom was gone, at least a bit of her was still here.

We went into the Party Room, and Dad sat me down at a table in front of the stage while he went to get some pizza. I watched the curtains part, and smiled. The music, the lights, the atmosphere- everything was a refreshing break from the dreariness of home. At Circus Baby’s, I didn’t have to worry about Billy jumping out at me, or see Mike’s sad frown. I could just have fun.

A tall woman in a nice blue tutu walked on stage. She turned towards the audience, and began to speak.
“My name is Ballora, and today I’ll be dancing to ‘In the Hall of the Mountain King’, composed by Edvard Grieg in 1875. Please enjoy.”

She began dancing just as Dad came back with our lunch.  As I started eating my slice, I noticed that he hadn’t touched his food. He was just staring at the stage, watching Ballora dance. He looked mesmerized.

“What about her, Daddy? Who made her?”
“I did, honey.”
“Why?”
He didn’t answer for a few seconds. He took a sip of water, and then said “I based her off of your mother.”
“Oh. When do you think Mom’s coming back?”
Again, he didn’t answer. He swallowed, and said “Someday, Iris.”

Neither of us said anything as the song’s bass became more aggressive, and the music more hectic. As the song sped up,  I noticed small little figures come out from the sides of the stage, and join Ballora in her spinning. I recognized them from Mom and Dad’s workshop. Mom always kept telling me not to play with them.

When the song ended, Ballora and her partners took a bow. Everybody in the audience clapped except for Dad, who had buried his face in his hands. He checked his watch, and then turned to me.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom, Iris. Will you stay right here?”, he said quietly. It was almost in a whisper.
“Yes, daddy,” I replied dutifully.
He stood up from his sea, and ruffled my hair. “Attagirl.”

While everyone else was leaving the room, Ballora stayed on stage.  When it was just me and her left in the room, Ballora sat down on the stage’s edge, and waved to me.

“Hi, Iris!” she exclaimed. “Are you enjoying your time at Circus Baby’s?”
“It’s neat.”
“Which one of us is your favorite?”
“You. I like you, even if my dad doesn’t.”
Ballora reeled back, and laughed heartily. Her laughter echoed through the room, and then faded away.

“I’m flattered, but what about Jerry, or Circus Baby?”
“I don’t know, I haven’t seen them.”
“So how can you have a favorite if you don’t know all of us?”
“That’s a good point.”
“Do you want to go see them?”
“I shouldn’t, my dad told me to st-”
She interrupted me with another fit of laughter.  “He’s planning a surprise, sweetie.”
“He would’ve told me there wou-”
“Do you tell someone what you’re going to give them for Christmas?”
“No…”
“Exactly!”

Ballora  stood up, and walked to my table. She bent down a little bit to offer her hand. “C’mon, let’s go see them,” she said.

She loomed over me, and smiled. “It’ll be fun.”

I put my hand into her palm, and she wrapped her fingers around it, tightly. It was firm, and I felt my hand being squeezed a little. But I didn’t protest. The two of us walked out of the Party Room, and down a hallway that led past the stage.

“So, what are you learning about in school, Iris?”
“Birds, mostly.”
“What kind of birds?
“Seagulls.”
“Really?”, Ballora asked incredulously. “Seagulls? Why’s that?”
“I dunno. It’s more about the ocean.”

Ballora asked me more questions as we moved down the hallway. What are my brothers like? What’s my favorite cartoon? If I had to be any kind of animal, which would I be? (I answered “Dolphin”, she picked “Eagle”). The questions ended once we turned a corner, onto Circus Baby Gallery. There she was.

“She was built just for you, Iris,” Ballora said. “Your mom and dad worked very hard on her.”

Circus Baby was amazing. She was my two favorite colors, red and white. She held an ice cream cone in one hand, and a microphone in the other. At her side was Jerry Grimaldi. He looked funny, and he squeezed his nose as I got closer, making me laugh. But Circus Baby had most of my attention.

“Iris?” my mother said.
I turned, and looked for a source to the voice.
“Iris, baby, if you’re hearing this then I want to tell you something...”
Jerry moved towards me, and bent to the ground, offering me a boost to the stage that Baby was on.
I realized that my mother’s voice was coming from Circus Baby! “No matter what happens, Iris, I want you to know…”
Baby held out a cone. It was strawberry ice cream, my favorite.

“I always loved.”
Her voice stopped.
“Loved.”
It came back.
“I always l-l-l-loved…”, she trailed off, her voice growing deeper and deeper.

A metal object shot out at me from Baby’s body, and pulled me into darkness. The last thing I saw was Funtime Foxy stepping out of the shadows.

“Goodbye, Iris,” said a monotonous, feminine voice.