Chapter four: the letter.
I don’t really have any friends here at the circus. No one really pays any attention to me, so I’m free to do whatever I want whenever I’m not selling popcorn, as long as I don’t “play” with the performer’s things. Or run away.
Usually I go for walks at the parks, or visit the rock climbing places. There I just watch the climbers. I marvel how they grasp the rocks on the wall, pushing themselves up.
But I never even bother climbing. I know I’m not able. When I was ten my father and mother complained about my skinny body, and said that I would never have the strength to do anything such as acrobatics or climbing.
And I’m still skinny now, so how would I be able to climb those enticing walls?
One day I was walking in the park, when I came across the man with the blue beard again.
“Oh my!” I exclaimed. “How are you here? Why? When did you come? I think I’m in so much trouble with my boss—“
But the man held up his hand and pulled a letter out of his coat, which seemed to be the place where he kept a lot of things. He held it out to me. I took the letter out. It was written in much neater handwriting than the sign was.
My apologies if I have made you and you boss quarrel. That was certainly not my intention. My intention was to help you earn the money for your baby sister’s college education. I know you are struggling, and I also know of your dream to be performing on stage. However, no one’s dreams would have come true if they did not work at it. For instance, Albert Einstein’s dream was to invent the light bulb. If he had not worked at it for years your homes would be alight with candles. He made a difference. So can you. Just work hard and your dream will come true, I promise.
From your friend, AP
After reading the letter, I looked up. The man was gone.
Ok, you may have a few questions. The reason why I am working in the circus in the first place is to help earn money for my baby sister’s college education. Me and my two other sisters all wanted to go to college, so we wrote our names on little pieces of paper and then my mother picked my sister’s paper out of the hat. Now we all have to work for her college payment. Everyone in the family is working hard for her. Of course my sister is working hard, too, but I think I’m working harder than everyone.
Okay, maybe not.
Now out of all the simple jobs in the world, why did I have to choose to be a popcorn seller in a traveling circus? I didn’t. My parents did. They thought that it was funny to have a daughter working in the circus. When they suggested it, I brightened and thought about being an acrobat or a juggler. When I arrived at the circus, the boss there was kind of mean in his own sly way and gave me the job of popcorn seller. Now he won’t let me go.
I began to wonder who that man really was. He seemed to follow me—or did he follow anyone who needed help, like me? But still, I was pretty amazed at the fact that he knew everything about me. Maybe he was some kind of wizard.
I’ve believed in magic and all that stuff ever since I was little. Now I’m 19, and I still believe in that stuff. I don’t know why.
Well, his letter seemed very serious. Maybe I should try and climb, although I highly doubt that my dream will come true.
After my walk I returned to the circus. I was almost late for selling popcorn, which was good because Mr. Gone could not interrupt me while I was selling.
After a day’s full of selling popcorn, I went to the rock climbing place and signed up for a lesson.