Day to day life in Haly's Circus suited Jerome, the nights were busy and hectic as the performers drew in the locals of each new town with their wild and wonderful acts, but this meant the days were quiet and left the young outcast with a wealth of time to himself.
So naturally he decided to find Jeremiah.
As usual he could be found hidden away in a crawl space beneath their mother's caravan, his lean body curled up behind the box containing his mother's beloved snake, a favourite hideout from his family and the rest of the circus folk. He fiddled with a piece of paper, turning it and flippantly folding it doodling along the creases with a red pen with little care or concentration.
"Hi there Jerome." He speaks casually without looking up as the lean boy appears squatting under the axel behind him, he is light footed with his fragile frame but Jeremiah can always sense his presence for some reason. He crawls over him in the confined space pulling himself into a crossed legged position opposite his red headed twin, his back leant against the glass of the snake tank.
The pair sit quietly, Jerome taps lightly on the glass as the head of the giant serpent bobs gently towards him, he blows exaggerated kisses at the scaled face and gets a little more comfortable in the dirt.
Still fiddling carelessly with his paper Jeremiah throws a glance at his guest "Nice shiner," he speaks flatly with little show of concern or surprise. Jerome tips his head forward a little allowing his straight hair to drop forward unconvincingly hiding the fresh purple bruise around his left temple.
"Wanna have some fun?" Jerome looks at Jeremiah expectantly as he changes the subject but he ignores him and continues fiddling, pretending not to notice his request.
"What's that your meddling with?" He says nosily snatching at the edges but Jeremiah does not bite.
"It's just a maze I'm making, you wouldn't understand."
Jerome loses interest in the maze and throws it back down to the floor, "You know what, lets go and have some fun now, what do ya say? I'm hungry, fancy hitting the Chuck Wagon?" He peers at his brother with a theatrically sad face as he rubs his stomach.
Jeremiah looks at Jerome with a mischievous glint in his eye, "Well it is Snicker Doodle day, and you do owe Uncle Zak a little pay back, come on let's go!" Jeremiah crawls out followed by an ecstatic Jerome.
The Chuck Wagon is a huge silver trailer with rounded sides and a large hatch on the side for serving the circus workers their main meals. The hatch is currently closed and Uncle Zak can just be seen through one of the small windows chopping and preparing for the lunch time service. He wears a white vest and a dirty apron, sweat collecting on his ginger goatee in the heat of the kitchen.
The two boys cower behind the strongman's trailer opposite a painting of a large man with the name 'Lunkhead' underneath adorns the side of the vehicle, his image standing proud in a leopard print leotard holding two giant dumbbells. They creep around the strongman's trailer just out of view of the Chuck Wagon windows, huddling close. They stop both bent over hidden slightly by the last wheel arch.
Jeremiah goes to lean forward to take a peak but is forced back hard by Jerome's forearm as he pushes him back against the trailer.
"Ow, watch it." He screws up his face but allows himself to be held back as Jerome puts his finger to his lips with an angry look.
Jerome peeks fractionally round the metal of the wheel arch and watches Zak chopping away, the grotesque man makes the boy feel nauseous, the deep seated hate bubbling away inside. He catches Jeremiah looking at him with a vague air of concern on his usually uncaring face, he forces the anger deep down and plasters a wide grin across his face and winks at his brother trying to disguise Uncle Zak's effect on him.
The look seems to do the trick as Jeremiah begins to grin back with a menacing smirk.
Jerome watches for a few minutes, the two youths holding their positions silently, eventually the fat chef turns to retrieve something from the far side of the Chuck Wagon turning away from the window. Jerome does not hesitate, grabbing little Jeremiah by the fabric of his sweater with one firm hand and pulling him in a quick dash across the space between the trailer and the metal Chuck Wagon. He almost throws him down against the steel under the window just in time as Zak promptly returns to work.
The pair crouch motionless, backs pressed hard against the Chuck Wagon both looking up to the window even though they can no longer see inside. Jerome tilts his head to angle his ear up to the slightly open window listening carefully to the chop, chop, chop escaping through the greasy frame.
Jeremiah looks at Jerome, watching the concentration on his freckled face waiting for a signal. The chopping suddenly stops and Jerome can make out the familiar sound of the cutlery drawer opening and a hand fumbling around the knives and forks. He turns to his twin giving him a little nod, he knows the drill, Zak stashes his cigarettes in the cutlery drawer and would soon be leaving the wagon to go on his cigarette break.
Sure as anything moments later they feel the gentle rock of the wagon as Zak's hefty body stomps down the steps out of the back, they wait a few moments and shuffle silently to the front of the vehicle. Jerome climbs up nimbly onto the tail bar and eases himself slowly higher to take a peek through the large window above. He waves Jeremiah up and he carefully places his feet just in front of Jerome's so they share the tiny space of the tail bar and pushes himself up to the window, his back touching Jerome's front as they balance. Stood this close it is obvious to see how thin Jeremiah is compared to the stockier young red head, despite their shared age.
The excited pair peep through the glass from their balanced perch, each with a playful excitement on their face adrenaline pumping through their veins, Uncle Zak is visible out the back door some 25 feet away smoking a cigarette with his back to the interior. Jeremiah gestures over to the nearby work surface where a tray of oat flapjacks stand cooling.
Jerome reaches over his brother's red hair and gently pops the window open, they both freeze at the tiny noise but Zak remains undisturbed. Jerome lifts the window out further and agilely climbs through, delicately manoeuvring around his partner in crime as he does. He pulls himself onto the counter into a crouch and lowers himself down to the floor silently, swiftly he gathers a handful of flapjacks handing them back out of the front window to an eagerly awaiting Jeremiah.
Jerome and Jeremiah share a mischievous smile, the ginger thief begins to head back, taking a last glimpse to check his Uncle is still out back, he notices a red spotted tea cloth draped over a mound on a counter nearer the middle of the kitchen and stops his retreat, now intrigued by the mystery food. Jeremiah shakes his head and beckons for him to come back but Jerome just smirks at his cowardice and begins to tip toe towards the cloth. He makes it undetected and lifts up the material apprehensively, a gleam of joy swells across his pale face as tray of warm snicker doodles are revealed.
Zak takes another deep drag on his cigarette and Jerome grabs a few of the cookies, slowly he heads back to Jeremiah the warm cookies grasped in his hands and a look of pride as he smiles to his accomplice raising his eyebrows cockily. The cautious twin mimes hurry up and Jerome makes it to the front and begins to carefully clamber onto the counter, just as he starts to turn to start his escape Zak coughs a loud tarred choke making Jerome jump, this tiny flinch sees his foot move just slightly and clip a metal sugar shaker that rests on the side. As if in slow motion the criminal pair helplessly watch the shaker topple off the counter and hit the floor, the clatter like a siren in the silent kitchen wagon.
Jerome grimaces, not a look of fear but a dark knowing of what will come, he lunges out of the window striking fast as viper towards Jeremiah, pushing him hard off the trailer tow bar sending him flying. He looks up at him, helpless, and inches back towards him but his face flares with rage as he mouths the words 'GO! HIDE!' with a terrifying anger that Jeremiah dare not disobey, so he runs.
Jerome turns his body on the counter and Zak is already standing next to him, an evil wide smile pulled taught across his face. The boy jolts towards the open window, he has to at least attempt an escape but the shovel like hand of Zak grabs hard at his skinny ankle, a hard tug back and the red headed boy hits the floor of the Chuck Wagon with a thud. Jerome instinctively puts his hands up to deflect a barrage of punches; he feels one land particularly firmly on his eye socket and instantly finds it much harder to see. The fists keep beating at his face and body, Jerome blocks what he can until the fat sadist finally slows and stops, the boy waits, knowing better than to make any sudden moves.
Panting, Zak raises up to tower over the battered and bruised boy laughing as Jerome cowers still in a protective ball.
"Stealing again are we nephew? You little shit, you never learn huh?" Zak wipes the sweat from his brow with his reddened knuckles and bends down grabbing Jerome by the throat "Well what shall I do with you now then? Gotta teach you a lesson don't I, can't say as I don't enjoy it though Jerome."
Zak drags the injured boy up by his throat choking him as he does, Jerome grabs uselessly at his Uncle's strong hand as he splutters and coughs, blood from his busted eye and lip pouring down his purple blotched face. The merciless chef drags the boy down the length of the Chuck Wagon halting at the stove where various pots bubble and steam cooking away.
"So, are you hungry Jerome? Maybe you think you can just take what you want? Well let me see if I can't stem your appetite a little?" Zak uses his free hand to waft the steam from the nearest bubbling pot into his face, pulling a delighted look of approval, "Oh yes, chicken stock, this should do the trick don't you think nephew?" with this Zak pulls the boys face down into the steam, holding him inches away from the bubbling liquid, Jerome squirms in panic while Zak laughs heartily at the boys dread. Zak pulls the child's head back sharply still gripping his now aching throat tightly.
"You are a useless kid Jerome, a bloody embarrassment to your poor mother, a pathetic little worm, and it gives me great pleasure to do everyone a favour and teach your sorry as a lesson or two." Zak spits venomously into Jerome's face with real hatred. Jerome musters his last ounce of self respect and in that moment stops fighting and spits right in his Uncle's greasy face, a giant globule of saliva and blood landing smack into the man's fat face, a proud smile leaking wide across his young battered face revealing his blood soaked teeth, an unsettling cackle defiantly escapes from his restricted throat.
Zak stands seething clearly thrown by his nephew's lack of fear, he furiously wipes the spit and blood from his face as the boy continues to laugh uncontrollably in his grasp. Jerome catches a glimpse of red locks lurking by the back door of the Chuck Wagon over his Uncle's shoulder, but just then Zak seems to make a decision and grips Jerome's wrist with his free hand, lifting the boy up by his throat he moves him to the pan of chicken stock holding the kids hand above the bubbling liquid. Jerome tenses trying to hold his hand back as best he can but he feels the spits of boiling liquid splatter on his skin as bubbles pop next to his hand. He looks his Uncle straight in the eye, defiant and enraged, for the first time he refuses to be a victim even if he can't win.
Zak stares back with a heartless grin and without breaking eye contact forces his nephew's hand into the boiling liquid. Jerome wants to scream with every inch of his body but he looks straight at Jeremiah and grits his teeth growling beneath, with every ounce of self control he refuses to scream, he will not cry, he will not give Zak the satisfaction. Jeremiah stares back deep into Jerome's eyes, no pity, no sympathy, but a dark understanding, he seems to turn off emotionally as if the violence is all too normal, but this is what Jerome needs as he disengages from the pain taking his mind somewhere else until the moment is over and Zak throws him to floor.
"Now get out!" Zak kicks Jerome as he scrambles out of the back door holding his scolded hand to his chest.
Jerome runs through the camp and into the back of the big top tent, it is dark inside and the animals can be heard from their pens, he heads straight for the elephants in the gloom at the back and thrusts his hand deep into their giant water trough, panting and grimacing at the stinging cold.
He collapses next to the trough keeping his hand submerged, his breathing starts to slow down as he calms, he knows Jeremiah is there in the dark. His twin shuffles out slowly taking a seat next him on the ground. They sit there silently for a while, Jerome eventually turns his uninjured hand towards Jeremiah opening up his palm to reveal two slightly crumbled snicker doodles. He takes a cookie and they sit there in the quiet darkness and eat.