by Sarah Earlene Shere, ©2023
(Oct. 7, 2023) — *After you read this story, see the “Author’s Note” for an exciting announcement!*
Lon’s young heart pounded in his chest as he cowered in a corner, beside the exotic aviary exhibit. A change of the wind stirred the London fog and wafted the scent of the flock through his cold, wet nose. Lon’s pointed ears twitched, and the black fur upon his neck rose to attention. With a whine and a whimper, he lowered his head to the earth and frantically pawed at his muzzle. He refused to give in to the sudden urge to hunt and destroy.
The sound of excited voices put him on the alert. Doctor Talbot and Professor Lawrence were looking for him. The heavy fog had given Lon cover as he made his escape when they were transporting him, but now he shot furtive glances around. All he could see was the dim glow of gas lamps that dotted the zoo.
Suddenly, Lon caught the scent of the river. For the first time, he was thankful for his heightened senses. Now he could find his way out to freedom.
***
The fog was beginning to lift as Lon raced to the outskirts of London. Soon, a large red and white striped tent came into view. The circus! He had heard people talking excitedly about its arrival and telling stories about the fanciful, mysterious things that had been seen there.
Lon hurried inside, anxious to escape the rising sun and any potential passerby. Upon his entry, he was surprised to find himself surrounded by a maze of mirrors. He cowered as familiar voices echoed in his head, memories like nightmares that refused to die, belittling and shaming him.
Suddenly, the mirrors began to disappear till one remained, but the reflection was not his own. A petite, slender woman dressed in silver and white silk stepped out of the frame toward him. Her black hair was tightly arranged close to her head and seemingly held in place by one cherry blossom. Her dark, almond-shaped eyes locked on his as her red lips parted and released an unfamiliar song in a foreign tongue.
Lon slowly backed away, but then felt almost hypnotized by the calming melody and the gentle beauty before him. Slowly, his body went limp as he lowered to the ground. He was vaguely aware of the woman seating herself beside him, taking his head onto her lap. He felt her fingers stroke through the black fur around his ears and heard her whisper, “Out of the depth of misfortune comes bliss. You are not what others think of you. The good emerges when the evil has reached its extreme.”
***
The ringmaster quietly approached the scene of a small boy resting his sleeping head on the lap of the circus’s contortionist. Kneeling beside her, Django smiled. “Well, Mei Ling, you appear to have rescued a stray.”
Mei Ling looked up at Django with a smile. “The same way you rescued a baby from a basket left in a tree,” then, becoming grave, “My only crime: I was not a son.”
Django placed one of his hands on the paw that was beginning to take shape at the end of Mei Ling’s wrist. Slowly it disappeared, replaced by her delicate, fair hand. Mei Ling spoke with resolve, “I will care for this boy; I will teach him how to transform what others have meant for evil into beautiful purpose, as I have learned.”
The ringmaster held his walking stick above the boy’s head and waved his hand over the marble handle, causing the blue color to swirl, then appear as sand. “Let peace replace extreme evil. Sweet dreams, lad, for all nightmares end!”
*Author’s Note*
I am excited to finally be introducing to you Django and his Cirque Extraordinaire! Django is a charismatic man of mystery, and his troop of entertainers, from around the world, are no less intriguing than he! Cirque Django Extraordinaire passed through the Victorian Village of Whitstead during the summer of 1846. You will be able to read about his visit, and the lives he touched there, in the third installment of the Whitstead series (“Whitstead Summertide”) available this holiday season from Amazon and other major book sellers!