It had started with a chicken. Her broken eggs to be more precise. Darius Fry walked across the dew-coated lawn to the chicken coop and collected the eggs. His wife's birds would lay between ten to twelve eggs a day. They had two old hens that might see the pot this winter. But otherwise, their small flock produced quite a bit of supplemental income and sustenance for their home. It was just the two of them to feed. So Maryanne would sell the extra eggs she couldn't use. She called it her Egg Money. And Maryanne did as she pleased with her egg money.

On the way back to the house, with a wire basket filled with eggs, Darius tripped. He went sprawling across the lawn. Eggs went high into the air. He heard each one as it popped and splattered on the dust-covered driveway. Darius picked himself up, wiped himself off, and searched for survivors. Maryanne would pitch a fit if he returned with no eggs. It was her egg money, no matter how often Darius helped with the feeding, watering, and gathering. It was her money.

One egg came to rest near the wire basket. Darius figured it must have come down slow and gentle with the basket still in his hand. That was the one explanation he could offer. And that was the tale he told Maryanne. She lit into him with a rage so intense that Darius spent most of the day in his workshop, a good distance away from his loving wife. He ventured into the kitchen as the afternoon bled into evening to offer a truce and a reparation. Darius knew the circus had come to town. Maryanne had begged to go, but he said they couldn't afford it. She never offered to use the Egg Money stashed in her dresser drawer. The same drawer where her special knickers were also locked away. So Darius, feeling full of guilt, offered to take them to the circus with his extra savings. What little he had.

Now, at five o'clock in the evening, he was driving their Ford Model-T along the narrow farm roads of Wellington, Kansas. The same roads his father drove, and his father before him. The Fry's had been in Kansas since the Boomers claimed and settled this land. The young couple arrived at the fairgrounds as the tent was filling. Darius parked the car and told Maryanne to go ahead of him to find them a pair of good seats. He would purchase tickets and be along straight away.

At the ticket booth, Darius found that he was without a single dime. Somewhere between the excitement to attend the circus, and the bump-riddled road, he had dropped what meager savings he planned to fritter away tonight. He kicked the ticket booth hard to the objection of the women inside. He walked away dejected, frustrated, and furious at himself. Now he would have to collect Maryanne and explain that the grand gesture intended to smooth over his egg mishap, would have to be crushed as well.

Then he noticed, out of the corner of his eye, a pair of small boys crawling along the edge of the massive red and white striped circus tent. In another moment, they were both gone. Disappeared from view and inside the crowded performance arena. Darius was certain they hadn't been seen and would blend into the other patrons with ease. He thought it wasn't a half-bad idea, and he made his way to the darker side of the tent.

Once there, Darius attempted to look nonchalant. He glanced up and down the tracks worn by wagons and equipment. There was no one in sight. He knelt down and crawled along the edge of the tent. He ran his hand along the dark edge, seeking a loose edge or open flap. Just as he started to give up hope, he found an opening. And that was when the huge hand wrapped itself around his small ankle and drug him back into the light.

Darius hung for a moment, suspended upside down by his left ankle, facing the Ringmaster and a massive being that looked more like an elephant than a man. He was huge. He was tall. And he dangled Darius by the foot three feet off the ground. Until he didn't. Darius fell with a thud and a moan. The Ringmaster and the Fat Man surrounded him and looked down in accusation.

"Show this gentleman what we do with ticket scalpers, Tiny. Then get back to the train and help load the elephants. We've got to be in Wichita by morning." The Ringmaster walked away from the forming scene and toward the small caboose decorated to his liking.

A few moments later, Darius recalled how the events of the evening had started with a chicken. Broken eggs to be more precise. And he recalled all this as his bones cracked, and his head popped, like those delicate shells lost on his farmhouse lawn.

THE END

Darius Fry Goes To The Circus