Evolution
I’m a daddy’s girl growing up in the rough and tumble world of the carnival. I often retire to the growl of my father’s motorcycle in the morning and roll my eyes as the crowd stomps their feet for more late into the night.
At fifteen, I’m a contortionist. Trained since childhood, I delight a crowd by twisting my body into various shapes. When the curtain opens, I’m normally shuffling cards while my feet prepare a cup of coffee…above my head.
This is my normal life. I walk on my hands through the house and open doors with my feet. At any given moment, my face may be in yours or glaring at you from the floor. Flexible and a natural climber, I spin on yards of ropes and silks in my spare time and view the world from my perch above the action.
With too much energy from a roaring sweet tooth, I’m awake most of the time so nothing gets past me. At some point in my life, the words think outside the box really made sense.
I, Tessa Romma, have no box. Since I can walk up the walls, I monitor the boxes around me. I see every little blip in the path of evolution as it happens. Most of the time, my father is right in the middle of the change.
As a fire handler, he works shrouded in darkness where he creates a picture with light. To see him out of his costume in the daylight, no one would ever guess it was the same charming man holding an enraptured crowd hostage with a compelling and charismatic presence. To say he loves mystery doesn’t do him justice. He lives and breathes waiting for the opportunity to shake more thrills out of spontaneity.
My father is the epitome of enigma. It’s his goal to never be seen in the same disguise twice. Under the cover of darkness, his smooth voice directs the crowd to remain seated as they view the show.
To view his show is sheer delight…
Stepping into the dimly lit arena, he raises his hand to the crowd, My name is Drake Romma. I am a fire handler. Since man discovered fire, we have been fascinated with its powerful force. Even with our heightened technology, we have yet to discover everything about it. Prepare to witness…the evolution of fire.
Darkness floods the arena before a flash and the beginnings of a creation in thin air begins. Enraptured as fire and light paints the air, granting glimpses of well-groomed fire handlers as they manipulate the swinging fire, silence falls over the audience.
The whir of multiple cameras emerges. A race to print the perfect series of images is born. Our six-second recognition pattern is long enough to witness the King of rock and roll emblazoned in the air. Next, two suspend dolphins swim in an ocean created with fire across the arena.
Gasps strike the air as people lean forward in their seats. With the help of technology, beams of light strike the glow-in-the-dark curtains. Bridges and a city skyline materialize to light up the stage as fire streaks through the air. From the floor of the stage, workers add a ship of lights before the two men on stage light up the sky with fireworks. For the grand finale, a comet zips through the air to obliterate the workers’ efforts.
As if cast into chaos alongside the city, Drake Romma bursts into flames and flails about before he drops to the ground in an extinguishing stop-drop-and-roll technique. All lights dim once again but that’s only a taste. As the show progresses, the enigmatic man in the dapper flame-resistant costume enchants the crowd with glimpses of his work amidst other shows.
When I step onto the stage, my own costume bears his mark with LED. As I twist and prepare my beverage of choice, the hidden workers target my products and use my process as a guide for their own sideshow to delight the crowd. Creatures of habit, my audience creates a sea of micro-communication that drifts across the room.
A world of wonder opens beyond their eyes when light flares to my right, showing two long strands of silk. After a languid sip of my coffee, sweetened with no less than six teaspoons of sugar, I draw their attention back to me. My movements are intentionally slow to allow them a spectacular view of the LED points on my costume.
Once I’m sure they’ve been memorized, I set my empty coffee cup aside and unroll my body backward. Standing with grace, I stretch before my toes bounce on the stage as I lightly skip to the silken strands. Like a deer bounding over a fence, I leap and catch the fabric before my body automatically adjusts.
I have practiced so much that climbing the fabric, swinging upside down, and working toward building speed within the air is second nature. I entwine the yards of material around me before spinning my way down to the crowd’s delight. My fast movement layers the air with a light show throughout my journey.
I would love to say that I’m one with the crowd at this point but, truthfully, I’m simply lost in my own world of play. Never being one to make friends easily, I practice my craft instead of socializing. As the crowd enjoys my antics, like performers hit the stage. My father is off managing the light show but his valuable assistants keep the hidden lights working while we awe the crowd.
A dip and constant hum of technical aspects such as lighting mixed with murmured remarks serves as my background noise during the remainder of the show. This is my normal world but tonight my reality would be shaken along with the locals.
As always, there was a celebratory air as the show prepared to move to the next town. Curious fans will always sneak into the private parties of intriguing events. My father knows this and, since it adds to his allure, he sheds his costume and dons another.
In true fashion, he doesn’t hesitate in his ability to entertain so the townsfolk catch what appears to be a vagrant producing fire from his fingertips. The visual backs up the reputation which he manages to maintain across multiple counties. He transferred fire from fingertip to fingertip as if the blazes were comprised of his own cells.
He has his tricks of the trade but is reluctant to let anyone in on many of his secrets. We’ve grown accustomed and content with his level of confidence so when, in a flash, he went up in flames…everyone paid attention. No one reacted.
We had no idea that it wasn’t part of the show, especially when the fire suddenly went completely out as if he were controlling it. He played it off as if the display was part of the act but I know my father well…
He was rattled!
My stepmother noticed too. For the next few hours, I lurked about but knew that I had to be patient. If my father detected that I knew about his agitation, all was lost in my quest for information. After pretending to lose them for the next forty-five minutes, I snuck through the field of RVs and makeshift shelters like a snake hunting prey.
A grove of trees provided just the cover. Becoming one with the tree, I hid amongst the branches and waited. Their RV was parked under a sprawling branch that I began to creep toward ever so slowly. I knew dawn was hours away, my dad had retired for the night, and that I wanted that information.
Having consumed enough coffee to fuel half the army, I was equipped to do whatever it took. Luckily, I didn’t have to wait long. A flash before a thump shook the trailer below me and then my stepmother hissed, “Drake, what is going on?!?”
“I’m putting out the fires, Maryanne. It’s rather splendid!”
“Putting them out? From what I saw, that fire absorbed into you.”
“Like I said…splendid!”
I almost giggled at the high level of approval in his tone. Fearless when it came to fire, I could just imagine him making a great villainous superhero wielder of blazes. With his dark gypsy looks and powerful charisma, he could take over the world!
My mother made a tsk-tsk sound before purring, “Your ego knows no bounds, my love. What if you catch me on fire?”
Laughter before, “That is my goal.”
Seductive laughter trickled through the air before she purred, “Drake, you are too hot.”
“Why thank you. You’re quite delectable yourself.”
Feeling a dry heave crawl up my throat, I shimmied backward until my feet were on the ground. Containing my shudder, I barely escaped as forbidden adult content threatened to engulf my world. Almost panting from the creepy-crawly sensation on my skin, I didn’t stop slithering around corners in my escape until I was in my makeshift bed away from home.
The next morning, I awoke just short of stretching my way into a breathtaking wakeup call. Tethered to my silken strands, I lie cocooned in a hammock which was located high up in a tree. Too much movement would roll me loose and send me a short but scary drop. Once I rolled myself out of my bedding, I unwound the strand of silk from the tree and climbed down.
Afterward, breakfast consisted of me contorting my way around a cup of coffee before unwrapping a sticky donut with my feet. I chose to make my coffee with my hands this morning. The rest of the day was spent packing my few belongings. The next show was the opening act.
We traveled through the day and arrived well in advance. After settling onto the new lot, my father began to practice but held the finale close to his chest. No one knew what he planned, not even his wife.
When the time came, he addressed the crowd as always and introduced his assistant. Together, they began to awe the crowd. My stepmother stopped beside me and asked, “Do you know his intentions?”
“No. Do you?”
Looking down at me, she smirked, “From your eavesdropping, you should know it has something to do with absorbing the fire.”
My eyes widened before I winced, “You guys knew I was there?”
Nodding, she said, “Your father always knows where you are, Tessa. He’s even told me which direction you will be heading in before you move.”
I frowned, unable to imagine someone doing such a thing. The curtains became a city landscape at night before the boat appeared. They displayed the fireworks next before the comet streaked across to obliterate the skyline. My father went up in blazes. This time, he didn’t drop and roll.
He frolicked with the flames, leaving no doubt in anyone’s mind that he was enjoying his time amidst the fire. When someone from the audience screamed, Maryanne murmured, “I lit a cigarette near him yesterday and he burst into flames. Watch closely.”
Everywhere but his clothing suddenly winked out as if his skin had, indeed, absorbed the fire. He had aptly named it…splendid!
His clothing still burned but did no harm to him at all. As we watched, he walked about with a suit of fire as if it were his armor. Admiring him but on full alert, Maryanne and I gaped at him as we realized he hadn’t used any safety props such fire-retardant gel on his clothing.
While his skin tried to absorb the fire, it hungrily consumed the fabric and consistently flared back to life. In the dark, the dancing flares seemed to hide inside his clothing as if playing a game of hide and seek. Mesmerized, I watched the flame meander up his shirt before melting a button into a drip of oozing plastic that fell away.
When my father threw a hand into the air, both of us jumped as a fireball flew from his fingertips before being absorbed back into him. He was oblivious as the remnants of his chosen wear disintegrating around him. My father was having a blast. Pale and shaken, his assistant had backed off the stage.
Gasps and nervous mutterings swept over the sea of people. Drake boldly played with the fire. Before our very eyes, he threw a fireball into the air and caught it with his other hand. He had entered a zone where unimagined discoveries awaited.
The assistant was still stumbling backward. I put up a hand to stop his motion, causing him to jump and emit a loud shaky huff of surprise. White as a sheet, he stopped beside us and asked in a shaky voice, “What do we do?”
Maryanne shook her head as her forehead wrinkled, “We trust him. He’s not being harmed.”
The audience swiftly redirected our attention back to them with a collective gasp. Our hands flew to our mouths at the spectacle of my father distractedly playing with fire. He had graduated to juggling fireballs. The ones he dropped simply disappeared back into his tall form. Everyone in the place jerked and a collective shriek flooded the air when his pants dropped to pool around his feet.
They lay smoldering before his shirt joined them in a smoking heap. My father remained ignorant as tuffs of his smoking underwear dropped away. A single thought blared through my mind as I screwed my eyes shut…
Oh my God…he’s gone crazy!
At the same time, Maryanne muttered something that sounded like a curse in another language. An extended stillness with sprinkled giggles settled over the audience. I don’t think I’ve ever cringed so deeply in my life in that long span of time. In reality, it was little more than a minute but it felt like a lifetime.
A roar of laughter swept through the crowd, sending my heart racing as Maryanne and the assistant both responded loudly to the vision. I pulled my hands away to see my father shielding himself with a towel of fire around his hips. He appeared as if he’d taken a shower in a volcano.
With his chin in the air, he bowed and left a trail of smoking footsteps as walked from the stage. Needless to say, the audience went wild. That night at the after-party, the laughs never ended but I think the biggest was when he drank a bottle of water. Three-quarters of the way through the liquid, steam began to pour out his ears.
Maryann watched on before leaning toward me to say, “I wonder if he can cook breakfast in bed without catching the bed on fire.”
Seeing my shudder, she grinned, “I know. But breakfast should be something besides a Danish served in a wrapper.”
Knowing what I’d heard in the past about food as we traveled, I shook my head, “Without a factory seal, I’m not eating it. Mr. Evolution doesn’t need to handle my food.”
“Mr. Evolution. Hmmm. That has a nice ring to it.”
~~ The End ~~
