Babe from the Far East
Babe from the Far East
It was all for naught. I wanted desperately to try and join in but they found me out.
It was all for naught. I wanted desperately to try and join in but they found me out.
I wanted to join the minstrels, clowns, and tiger ringers but then they said I was too young.
I am thirteen months?! Is that too young to swing with the acrobats flying high and soaring along gracefully like a desert flower?
I think not. I am the formidableness and most knowing in all the land! I raise my bottle to you, good sirs and gals, and tell you I will not have it!
I will sing like the fat bearded lady and raise five hundred pounds above my thick and meaty head! And they shall applaud and cheer with thanksgiving to the highest heavens! They shall honor me with flowers and precious gifts and I shall be known as the greatest show since Barnum & Bailey.
Hear me, now, as I slip from my carriage of wonder and slide away from Mom and Dad as they watch the goofy dancing bears. I walk along, now the tents and games alike, and strut with pacifier in mouth. I gaze and Oh… Look! Cotton Candies from the Far North. Delights and eye candy, my heart’s content. I shall come back if possible to this good-hearted merchant.
I sing the songs of the times, Who Let the Dogs Out and Afternoon Delight!
And lo! I see the acrobats in a tent like a cathedral high with peoples from foreign lands and strange tongues which I don’t understand. I hardly understand my own.
The crowd is silent. The tightrope walkers are focused like a lioness’ before its prey. They pounce and leap like a gazelle. Swinging like monkeys in the wild jungles, they hand each other and give them over to where they please. Jumping down onto the bouncy lily pads of green, I see and walk closer to the multi-cultured crowds and squeeze my way through. I know it is futile but I endure until the bitter end and prevail.
I see them like doves in the twilight sky above this unforgiving land free like angels in God’s hands. I stretch out and cry aloud, “Gah! Gah!” A woman and her child see and lend me their hand.
I push her away and crawl under the bleachers wrought in metal evading their peasant hands. They shall not lay a hand on me! Not one finger!
But then I am picked up by the hag. And forced into an elderly spinster’s lap as the show carries on with a last clap. I am devastated and cry as my pacifier is lost in the land of dirt. But the young maiden presents me with the finest of gifts: a full bottle filled with the sweetest of milk made in the Cream-O-Land. I willingly take this free gift and drink it with a full heart. Grateful for this sign of peace I accept the burping from the Queen’s hand.
But before I can escape and go to where my destiny lies, my kind parents find me with gladdened sighs.
My mother, sweet like honey from the rock, takes hold of my garments now decked with spit-up, and holds me close with a gentle kiss placed on my forehead. My father, grave like the sour hills, strokes my tiny bald head and smiles warmly with grateful affection.
Foiled once again! Fools, I will have my day before the tides roar close to the coast. Alas, I shall one day have my chance at my role. One day I shall be great, I will be held in honor and my fame shall spread throughout all the lands. Even if I am only thirteen months old.
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