I could barely wait for the next day. Practice was smooth, like I had never paused. May was a sweetheart. It seemed like she was finally content with the things she got to do and even Pete showed up to coached me on my stage presence. It was like dad had said, he's tough and he got over it. No rude comment or judgment came over his lips. Almost like he was happier this way, too.

The sun set early. Getting into my dress for the show and putting on the golden makeup was an eagerly awaited tradition that was finally a part of my daily routine again. Instinctively, I knew every hook I had to close, every safety pin I had to check. My hands drew the swirls on my arms and legs like I hadn't done anything else in years.

I walked across the lot, half-naked bodysuit and glittering paints with a headpiece on my head like a crown and an elephant following my every step like a puppy. We had outsmarted the Boss, forced his hand and people knew. They weren't stupid. Maybe they wondered how I was back in the game so fast and how I did it. But they knew. It was our very own victory walk.

Right before the show we routed over Midway to announce the imminent start. Townies stepped aside both fearful and in awe of seeing such a big animal so close and May handled it gracefully.

As we walked by the psychic's tent, Patrick already waited outside for me to come through. He nodded, a conspiratorial smile gracing his face. Maybe even pride? Nevertheless I wanted to kiss it off of him, the unfinished kisses from yesterday still rummaging in my mind. But the thrill of success kept me in my lane and focused.

Our show announcement worked. The crowd followed us to the Big Top like little ducklings and filled the ranks quickly while May and I took our position backstage, waiting for our curtain call. Our act was back where it belonged, the big finale of a good show. When I rode May through the curtains, I almost fainted. The applause was so loud, so piercing the cheering that it was a wall of noise we had to tread through just before lights blinded us. Every spot in the tent was directed at us, the heat radiating from the streams of yellow, reflecting golden particles from our painted swirls. It was magic.

Just on cue, May rose to her back legs and held our entry pose like the genius she is.

"Good girl." I said, unsure if she heard me over the noise, but trying nontheless. I elegantly slid down from her, let her do a balancing pose while I did mine. The crowd went wild with every dance pose of mine she mirrored. I walked around the ring banks, dancing or balancing, doing wheels and somersaults while May followed with her own turns, sometimes resting her front legs on the barrier while the audience screeched in excitement.

For the big finale, she held her leg up for me to climb on her back again and we ended in me balancing on one arm on her back while she stood on only her front legs. The music crescendoed as I spun off of her, landing safely on the ground in a storm of lights and applause. I was breathing heavily as I waited with my arms in the air, finally swinging into a low bow. This was it, our comeback show, perfectly executed. I lead May to the curtains, skipping with joy all the way to the back. Another bow and we were off.

First thing I did when the curtains closed behind us, was hug May. She did amazingly. Not an ounce of confusion because of the past two different show days. She was back in her old routine and she was great. Of course she knew that she was amazing and promptly put forward her trunk to ask for a carrot. I couldn't deny her.

Tonight was a night for after show celebrations and even Pete waited for us, nodding in approval. I was too euphoric, almost forgot that we had to wait for the final parade. I didn't want anything more than to tell Patrick that everything worked out in the end. Just as he promised. I wanted to kiss him and not let him go this time. Not tonight. Because tonight was perfect.

Just as we lined up for the last spec, I saw a commotion outside. Workers were hasting past the back tent. The longer I stared, the more chaos broke out. Even people in line went outside and disappeared in the confluence. But I needed to stay. May needed to be supervised and a free roaming elephant was never something you wanted during whatever is causing people to run around in a panic.

We stayed and waited. Me, May, the clowns, a few other acts and my mom, while dad had to go look. All staring helplessly at the scene outside.

Then the Boss shooed us on stage again, taunting us to put on a smile and end the show gracefully.

We tried, the few of us that were left. My heart beat in my chest, not out of performance anxiety but fear. Stars and Stripes Forever was playing. The disaster march, communicating to every employee that something was going on. But we tried to smile through it because the lights were on us and the Boss told us to.

May got agitated and I put a hand on her side in an effort to calm her down while my other hand was waving. My smile strained my cheeks. I tried to catch the eyes of Prob Hands, begging them for a nod, an affirmation that everything was alright.

We went around half the ring when the crowd suddenly shifted. The cheers turned into screams. People were getting up, trying to leave.

I looked around and saw nothing. There were just panicked hoards trying to squeeze through the already blocked entrance.

Then I smelled it. Biting smoke filled the dome and tongues of fire crept up from behind the theater benches, swallowing the tarp like dry straw. My mom was by my side in a heartbeat, talking to me, screaming at me but I didn't understand. There were just too many voices, too much scared noise.

I saw the Prop Hands trying to bring order into the chaos. Ushering the guests to safety through the backstage curtains causing both exits to be clogged. May began to rear up, flailing and scared. I had to keep her from running to the exit she knew for the townie's sake. My mom helped me, instinctively doing the same gestures I did and leading her in circles between the curb.

My eyes stung from the smoke, I began to cough when I spoke to calm May.

The entrance just wouldn't clear up. As if no one was getting out at all.

For a scary second, I debated letting the elephant make her way outside to safe her at least. But she would just get herself put down.

The tarp drooped its molten plastic on the benches. Only a matter of moments until the whole dome was alight, raining plastic and fire down on us. Every other act was gone from the curb. Just me and my mom left to keep the scared elephant in check.

I cried for the Prop Hands or the orchestra, anyone to help me divide the crowd to get May out of here. I could barely see my own hands in front of my face. May knocked me over in her panic and dashed forward, breaking banks and benches in her way. I couldn't make her out through the black clouds, not even from down here in the smoldering straw. My orientation was gone. I had lost track of the exits in the jumble and smoke. I stumbled to my feet and started searched for my mom. Trying to keep my head low, looking at the running feet of others. Searching for her yellow slippers.

"Annie?" Patrick's voice reached me.

"Patrick!" I croaked and was promptly shaken with another fit of coughs, almost unable to walk forward. My eyes teared so much that I had to go by feeling of warmth. Away from the heat. Just away. Arms found me and dragged me in a completely different direction.

"Wait!" I tried to free myself and yelled for my mom and for May.

"She's out." Patrick tried to reassure me but ultimately he had to drag me out of the burning tent. Without warning, I was splashed by cold water once we passed the tarp. My mom received me from Patrick's arms. Even outside my eyes were burning, only allowing me to see the light coming from where the Big Top stood. And the heat. Looking at the fire felt so hot. No one ever talks about the heat but it felt like my skin was searing. The water evaporated from my body and my front was dry in minutes.

I asked for May, no one answered. I asked where Patrick was and no one knew. My mom was crying. My dad was somewhere helping with extinguishing the fire. I could hear his yelling over the crowd.

Then Patrick came back. I recognized him by his bright hair but my eyes were too watery, too full of smoke to define features. The triangle of cloth around his neck was almost black from soot. He hugged me and smelled of smoke. Not the good christmas morning, reading at the fireplace kind but the kind that sends you running in the middle of the forest because you'll die if you don't get away fast enough. His clothes had the same tang of wetness on them, the quickly evaporated humidity of a devastating fire.

He brought the news that May had found her way out of the tent, had run down the street and through a few front yards. I demanded to go get her. Without waiting for someone to accompany me, I walked. Aimlessly, because I was still almost blinded by smoke but with enough intention to get me to my destination. I had to go get her before she went too far and caused too much damage.

Patrick was following. I knew he was. We walked past the other fair. The street was so full of people who only stood there to watch. Useless. I shoved them out of my way, even if they weren't in my way but just barely near me. How dare they just stand and watch lives burn and melt. People suffocated while they gossiped.

It didn't take us long to walk. No, it didn't take long to find another crowd of bystanders uselessly circling on the street. But these were different. They weren't watching the fire.

Just to be sure, I squeezed through them, losing Patrick behind me in the mess of straining silhouettes. I was sure that I'd find nothing in their midst that would help me find May. Maybe just a trampled fence and rose bush. God knows, I'd be trampling over anything and everything, too, if I'd been scared to death and didn't know what was going on.

But of course the townies would lose their minds over a crooked mailbox because there was nothing more sacred than their lawns.

I scolded myself for the spiteful thoughts. Trying to keep my mind on the task.

There were two rows of people left to shove through when I noticed the big bush I had thought I recognized in their middle was actually not green, nor was it leafy.

I had to elbow a man to get through the closest inner circle and was spat out into the middle of the crowd.

"Annie!" I heard Patrick call out to me from within the mass of bystanders and from his voice, I heard the same devastated heaviness I felt.

May was lying on her side right at my feet. Not like she was usually lying down, not like she was trained to lie down. But in a static, accidental way. Like she suddenly stopped and fell. Her trunk was squeezed under her extended front leg. Her head tilted back in a weird way.

There was no fence, no flower bed. Just dirt with a few specs of dry grass that May had to rest on.

Patrick finally reached me and tried to turn me away from looking at her with a hug.

"I'm so sorry, Annie." I heard him say but I rejected his hug and his sympathies.

"No!" I barked and walked closer to her head. Her ear was hanging over her face and I knew she didn't like that. She never slept like that.

I tried calling her name. She didn't react. She didn't even breath.

I knelt next to her and petted her leathery skin. The golden paint was smeared with water that hadn't evaporated like ours.

"You did so good today, big girl." I tried to gently calm her. She must be so scared and I left her alone in her fear.

"Angela." Patrick tried to get my attention again. "She's gone."

His words were like knives. Sudden, sharp. It released an ache in my soul that made me want to throw up. I looked at my hand that was petting her shoulder. Cold blood smeared my palm and mixed with the gold paint on May's skin. I looked at her. At the unnatural way she was planted on the ground.

The emptiness flooded me from my toes to my stomach, over my chest to my brain. Then it burst out of me in tears and sobs when I finally grasped the glimpse of what this perfect night mutated into.

I'd had it all in my hands. The victory over destiny and fortune. I had outsmarted every odd stacked against us. For on day, I had pure bliss. Just one.

And one night ended everything. May's life. Our lives. The fair. I felt selfish, crying about my own loss when May lost her future but at the same time, I didn't only cry for me. I cried for her tragedy and for Pete who lost everything two nights in a row. For my parents, for Harald and his lost sweets. Mariah who will have no one to sell her hot dogs to. For all the workers out of a job that was their only lifeline. Or Jerry and Gerry and their refuge they've known half their lives burned to the ground. Even for Frank because there was no fair to put up bills for.

This was supposed to be our last stop before winter quarters. Our Home Run.

And it ended up being our last.

I let myself get dragged away by Patrick. He held me upright and kept me moving. But I wasn't really walking, wasn't watching where I went, wasn't thinking or talking.

I was barely there.

He brought me straight to my trailer. Even here the stench of smoke and burnt plastic was choking me. I saw the fire reaching for the stars in the sky out of the corner of my eyes but I purposely avoided to look. How could the stars betray me like that and shine today just like they shone yesterday. Today was nothing like yesterday. The moon should hide its face and the sky should weep.

This night felt like we didn't matter. Townies didn't care enough to help us. They didn't feel saddened by May's dead body, not even decency to turn their eyes away. Everything's just a spectacle.

The earth didn't care if we were here or gone. If we were lucky or devastated. We were nothing. Just a passing episode of tragedy to this town. A horror story told over a few bears at the local bar.

I tried to get rid of most of the blood and soot at the tap outside my family's trailer. The water was cold and bit in a few little spots where my skin was singed. I didn't remember when I'd gotten hurt and I didn't care. I rinsed my eyes and my mouth but the stale taste remained.

"Are you ok?"

"Do I look ok to you?" I snapped at Patrick for his stupid inquiries. I took a few deep breaths in hopes it would calm me, but it failed miserably. Anger continued to burn silently under my skin.

"Do you need me to get someone for your burns?"

"No, Patrick. I'm fine. I mean, I'm not fine but I don't need help. Can we just… Can we not talk. Please." It was a solicitation, begging him not to make me explain because I wouldn't be able to and I would only direct my burst of helpless emotions at him.

He nodded and disappeared in the trailer. I didn't care. I just rubbed on my skin, trying to make the smell and grime disappear. He came back with a glass of water and pulled me onto the stairs next to him.

I sipped the water and followed the burning sensation down my throat as I swallowed.

He sat one step up from me, allowing me to lean against his propped up knees. We watched in silence as the chaos turned into abandonment beyond the living quarters. No buckets were thrown any more and silhouettes were standing with their arms on their hips and their shoulders hanging, appearing black as night against the white flames. No groups were forming. Everyone was just watching, in calm terror, facing all the predictions, the toil it took to get here and the deprivation that's to come.

I was too drained to cry, even though I knew it would help my internal turmoil. I wanted to cry and let all the anger and sadness out, but I couldn't. My lips were just senselessly quivering without any relief. I was shaking to my core, somehow holding on to my functioning mind. Only barely staying sane.

There was a cloud of grief hanging over the lot. No one needed to say it, we all just knew. My mom and Danny joined us soon. Dad was still out, watching the fire and making sure it wouldn't spread to nearby trailers. People destroyed the star patterned walkways by moving their booths away from the Big Top. Only Midway was left in tact in case the fire department thought about helping. Which they didn't of course. It was just a fire on a grass lot. What was there to extinguish that's not already completely ruined. It was left to us to contain the disaster and keep it from destroying what remained of us.

Danny was put to bed after a shower. For the remaining three of us there was no rest tonight.

It was four in the morning when what remained of the Big Top was only a smoldering puddle of melted tarpaulin. Everyone assembled on the Midway in front of what had been the main entrance to the show. A silent call to gather at the site of cataclysm when it was reasonably safe. Patrick excused himself to search for his father who was probably drunk between two trailers somewhere.

The Boss's first question was if everyone was here. More so if everyone made it out.

It was hard to watch everyone scan every face in the crowd for their loved ones, their colleagues, their performance companion.

I did, too.

Harald and Mariah were here. Both unharmed and fresh.

The bill posters I barely recognized under all the black grime from their effort to fight the fire. Donald still had his mouth and nose covered with cloth. But all four were here.

The clowns in their smeared makeup and lost wigs looked more suitable for a chamber of horrors. All three already had bottles of beer out, usually to celebrate after a show but today it was to drown the sorrows.

Pete found me before I saw him and remained with his hand on my shoulder next to me. It was sympathies and a 'glad you got out' all in one.

The Boss announced that 'the elephant' hadn't made it. A sober statement that almost didn't register with me. But the communal gasps throughout did. Workers I didn't know by name came up to me to pat me on the back, others nodded at me from a distance with the same pain I felt when I thought about May still lying alone in someone's front yard. Although their sadness must be of a different, less unreasonable kind.

I couldn't help her anymore and we wouldn't bury her. Animal acts got left behind when they passed, for some stranger to take care of the corpse. How they would handle her, I didn't want to know and I won't be here to witness. That's how it's always been. Only now I felt the immense guilt and grief of just leaving my partner to rot while I had to deny that I did want to be with her in her last steps and give her the flower bed to rest on that she deserved.

Even though no one was gravely injured, we held a short moment of silence for the end of an era – not the death of May – and the Boss announced that we would break tent of the last stand of the season earlier than planned. Everyone was to pack until sunrise so we could be on our way to winter quarters before the press arrived in the morning.

He tried hard to keep his defiance up and play his part. But we could see him crumble as he tried to sound hopeful. His voice lacked the usual arrogance that used to be despicable but would now serve as much needed affirmation.

Halfheartedly, I expected him to look into the reason for the fire. But he didn't even ask for the cause, nor why it was able to spread so quickly. The Boss knew that nothing was salvageable and discussing it in the heat of the moment wouldn't bring any clarity. His only chance was to try and keep the group together for this night at least.

When he waited for questions, no one had any because what use would a question be that couldn't be answered. No one broke up the assembly but people left one by one, defeated and in silence, until I was almost alone on the fire water drenched soil.

My feet made their way through the mud and burnt grass almost to the outskirts of the devastation. Only a few blackened, scorched bars remained of the Big Top's skeleton and loomed over the remnants of our stage. Black fumes rose from the few seats of fire that were still active, barely alive.

It was Frank who trotted to me, visibly tired and strained. His jeans overalls completely blackened. The whites of his eyes were the only light areas left on his face. We stood in silence for a long time and watched the flames get tired and die.

"Ya were great today, ya know. Didn't think you'd come back after the Boss redlighted you. Not many manage to change his mind. Just unlucky timing this is, that it happened today of all days."

I hummed, unable to thank him or say anything at all while I fought with my tears. Almost glad that I found it in me to cry again, awaiting the relief it promised but ultimately waited in vain.

"Ya wouldn't know but accidents like this happen a lot. Gypsies always come back from it. It's not the end of the world. I had two in my carny life and I'm still here."

"But how many shows made it back after this?" I asked, truly hopeful despite my better judgment.

"Ah" he waved me off. "Ya gotta stop asking questions like that. Who cares 'bout this show. Just the chief 'cause it's his. You ain't got nothing to lose. Ya family can go and find another show, another act. Who cares if the tent is red or blue. It's all about the people. As long as the people are alive, the show is alive. The road and talent is the only thing you need. Not even talent if ya look at me." He uttered a deep chuckle.

I turned his words in my head, thankful for the only real enthusiasm I heard tonight. But there was also a kind of finality that I couldn't ignore. "Sounds like you're planning to leave."

"Sure am. I'm not one to wait around for the final act. Life's better with a show in its prime, believe me." He sighed and locked his thumbs behind his suspender. The inner peace of his words somehow eased the pain of change. It sounded so familiar and unafraid that it didn't seem all too scary to consider change as a chance.

"Will you join the other fair?"

He snorted with laughter. "Pah! Ya take me for crazy? Those Russian bastards gotta learn some rules. Stick me in a dress and call me Sally if those crumbs ain't responsible for this."

Again, he conjured a smirk on my tired face with the way he approached serious topics. "Why would they have anything to do with this? If they wanted to get rid of us, they could have done so a week ago."

"'Cause they're petty, that's why."

He must have felt my doubt because in another attempt to convince me, he sputtered more conspiracies. "Boss wanted us to cover some of their bills, get rid of their Heralds. Ya know, the usual. Isn't hard to lose some paper on the road. Wasn't smart, I told him, not for home sweet home, two weeks before the barn. But I gotta do what he's telling me to do. Maybe we overdone it yesterday and the russians snapped. They been here for years. It's their lot, their shot. First come, first serve. Boss wanted to get footing on new grounds but that ain't working his way. Not with his show and the booths he hires. We are closer to a dog and pony show than's good for us. I've seen bigger shows get mauled by others. And he just overdone it this time. The russians could've sent their own night riders. Instead, they sent one or two employees to get rid of us for good. One night, we're out and they're even here to catch the best pieces."

Gone was the easy going Frank who dealt with disaster with a shrug and a sigh to move on. The thought of our neighbor circus sabotaging us, made even him sputter some unforgiving words. Under all his hope and perseverance, he showed a dark side of show business that I didn't want to know more of.

Finally, he gave me a warm smile with his crooked teeth under all the soot on his face. "But there's always gonna be a new show on the horizon. Ya better buckle up 'cause it's calling for us. I already hear it. I wish you all the best, ma'am. Tell love bird farewell from me. Maybe we gonna meet again somewhere on the road."

I tried to reciprocate his efforts but the smile fell off my lips too easily. "You're leaving immediately?"

The way change ripped at everything I knew and already started to tear away piece by piece made me nauseous.

Frank barely waited for me to reply to his goodbyes. "What better time to leave than now."

I bit my lips at his involuntary counsel but managed to utter a hasty goodbye before he disappeared into the night. If he knew what was going through my mind.

I was left alone in front of the shambles of my life, fully intend on waiting through the night and keeping watch over the fragments of this era on my own. But Patrick didn't take long to join me. After half an hour or standing, we sat in the dirt because my legs were too tired from the day. We sat and watch the smoke disappear. His hands held mine as I was shaking with the cold of the night or the shock of it. My tired head leant on him when I was about to fall asleep. But he kept watch for me until the night sky turned a lighter shade of blue.

"I don't want this change." I murmured, half asleep, barely recognizing my own voice. Was I even speaking or was it just the sleep deprived imagination of my tired mind.