He was a man of the Carnival, always a carnie at heart although sometimes he revelled in real life customs, mostly because he’s never really been apart of them. But once we was out in the real world too long, he knew the carnie life was forever his.
Everything was simpler. He was born of this life and he couldn’t even picture how his life would turn out if he hadn’t grown up on the grounds of this now old, boisterous carnival.
His head was embedded with the sounds of the creaky Ferris wheel, as each cart stopped to be loaded or unloaded with the next group of kids full up to their heads with joy. The swaying of the cart created a melody in his head he was so used to—clang-clang-clang-click-clang-click— and it reverberated through the metal bars creating a vibration on the metal stand. The metal bars wrapped with lights and posters of popcorn and cotton candy, and arcade games. The clang-clang sound echoed through the carnival, mingled with the other sounds but always a constant background noise.
Tunes from all over filled his head. He had listened to a variety of songs growing up and it doesn’t surprise him that he loves them as much as he always has. He was a simple man and he took pride in the simple life he lived.
When he was a boy, he thought the very opposite. He was embarrassed of the life he lived and ashamed of his mother the fortune teller and his father who was considered a freak. When Dusty was a boy he sometimes would have nightmares about his father. He was ashamed of that now.
His father was a tall man and not just because Dusty was a boy; he was six foot eleven, his enormous, abnormally misshaped head allowed him more height. His father used to make jokes about the way he looked, he knew he couldn’t change it and knew he was a good man, so he didn’t let his looks let him lead a miserable life. But little Dusty never found it funny. His dad was nothing but a monster to him back then.
His head was so poorly misshaped it reminded Dusty of a deflated basketball. He didn’t know what happened to his father at birth, or wherever but he never understood how his father had even a single wit. He surely didn’t look as if he could count to two. He wasn’t the smartest man by any means but he had good common sense and an intriguing sense of rational. He seen things differently. And despite his short comings, he was destined to make it the best life for his family as well as himself.
His good sense of humour and optimism in all aspects of life could not defy Dusty of the shrilling fear he had of his father back then. In addition to towering over everyone at six eleven and his enormous misshaped head, the rest of him didn’t scream normal either. His arms hung to his knees, which were large and knobby on his lanky, chicken like legs. It almost seemed impossible that those scrawny legs were holding up a body so.. Hefty and disfigured. His hips faced forward and suited that of a man, but his spine was cruely rotated to the left creating his torso to slightly twist in the same direction. His spine also has an immense curve at the top, creating a severe hunch. Even with his hunch, he towered over everyone.
Other carnie kids would sometimes call his father the Hunch back of Notre Dame. Dusty told him that and that from now on he would prefer that mom would walk him to school or he would walk himself, because the bullying was bad enough with his height, let alone his dad being a freak show.
Worryin’ gon getcha killed boy. You need not take life so seriously, no one gets out alive. Just live. Was all his father said to him. He didn’t seem to have any hurt in his eyes or voice. He was sad sometimes for the ridicule or scowl his family might bare but he would never apologize for being who he was. He made a pretty good life for himself in spite of his abnormalities and he’s provided for his family. He held his chin up proud.
But not Dusty. Even knowing his father’s warm heart, he feared him. Later in life he was ashamed for the cruelty he put out towards his father.
He learned a lot over the years but it didn’t take many to learn that the evil that lie within a man is far worse than what you see on the outside. His father may have looked as though he was capable of monstrous acts yet lived a normal life. But there were people out there who appeared to be all good, yet the evil lie within. And wolves in sheep’s clothing will always be a far more dangerous threat.
When Dusty’s father passed away when he was only 21, Dusty and his mother struggled to make ends meet for a long time. They lived in a tent, that wasn’t much comfort against the colder nights, when the carnival made its way to the colder cities closer to the Lake. On top of hardly having enough food to last a few days, or having a warm pillow to lay their head on, Dusty watched his mother slowly change as the years went on.
She was forgetting things more, becoming increasingly erratic and irrational. She would throw fits over something that had happened over two years ago as if it happened to her yesterday. She started accusing the carnival barkers of stealing her tarot cards and “precious crystals.” You know I need these for my readings, my energies get all messed up without them! You know my work is the Lords work so you try to stop it! You’re men of the Devil! You get off on knowing I can’t help the people! What I do is the Lords work you Devil men! Serpents! They are sent from the Devil trying to disrupt the Lords work! Serpents!
She would climb on top of the nearest trailer or platform for a ride, or at times in the cart of a ride itself, or game-stand and chant these delusional accusations. She said the Devil was out to get her. And damn them all! All the men sent from the Devil.
She became more and more delusional and erratic as more time passed. She would stay silent for hours just staring at the wall, scratching her head in the same motion over, and over, and over again, spoiling herself on more than one occasion. At times she would say she was going to get groceries at the store that is only a ten minute walking distance away, but instead she would come back in a few hours or sometimes the next day. And always with no groceries and always caked with dirt, from her hair—where the dirt got wet, hardened and looked like she had a hair full of mud—all the way down to her feet, which were usually bare.
Dusty became very worried about his mother. After about a year and half of her acting completely out of it, and his home remedies weren’t seeming to do the trick, he found a hospital for the mentally ill for her. It cost a little bit more than he would have wished for but he had some savings and there were payment options.
Dusty was twenty five years old when he put his mother away and he hasn’t seen her since. He presumed she began a life of her own once she entered that building so he let her do her, and he would do him. Live the simple life he deserved. He is now fifty three years old and doesn’t have any regrets.
At twenty five he knew he had no interest in taking over his mother’s fortune telling business and he couldn’t exactly just take after his dad in the freak show because in spite of his father having defects, Dusty was completely normal. Except maybe his height, at six seven.
Luckily his father owned a game-booth as well as a food stand. Dusty worked those for a few years saved all of the money he could while living in his tent and eating only when necessary. He was around enough that everyone knew him, so he got handouts from other food trucks from time to time.
He had just enough to buy the supplies he needed for his hot-dog and fry stand, usually enough for him to eat some as well, as well as pay the small fee it cost to put his tent up in certain locations, and also save up a little bit on the side. He kept it in a metal tin he found on the curb. At twenty eight he opened this tin and found more than he expected.
He thought maybe he was ready to leave the carnie life, maybe he was ready to go out into the real world. He had twelve thousand dollars and he assumed that was enough to begin paying for a house. He remembers learning something about a down payment. The carnival barker Thomas had taught Dusty a lot after his father passed. Though Dusty has a hard time remembering the things that bore him, he does remember down payment. Means you don’t have to pay for the whole house right away. He knew what he needed to know, he was ready he presumed.
But the world hit him like a ton of bricks flying at warp speed towards him on all different angles but all at the same time. People were selfish, they were arrogant and disrespectful, towards themselves and each other. They’re savages, Dusty learned, he seen that almost anyone was capable of committing staggering atrocities under the right circumstances.
Humans dehumanize other humans to make it easier to treat them horribly. They blame others, see them as morally responsible for not giving them what they deserve, or for taking more than they should. Always pointing fingers, never taking responsibility.
Dusty knew that good and evil both evolved in our neurology but it was our internal battle we must face in order to fight off the evil. These people proved indication of evil intent, putting up conniving personas with smiles full of malice and cruel desire. They seem to look for the weak spots in each other, they’re triggered to open up the primitive drive within themselves instead of suppress it. Its as if none them were ever taught what kindness was.
They all seem to have sold their moral compasses, and for low prices. They become distracted with vanity, superficial images and greed. All trying to keep up with new coolest celebrity or trend. No originaility. And they all believe everything they hear on tv. This or that product or service will make you whole again, happy. Losing themselves in a superficial outlook on success and wholeness. These people will never be whole if they continue down the self-destructive paths they travelling, Dusty knew.
No one seems to be fair. No one seems to be compassionate. At the Carnie everyone helped each other out, they were all buddies. Dusty tried to smile and nod and even say hello to a few people like he would do at the Carnie, but not one person reciprocated. He got weird looks and girls holding tighter to their purses.
He witnessed a woman drop a folder that sent papers flying everywhere in the middle of a busy street, she went chasing after them as passerby’s just kept on passing by… Dusty couldn’t believe it. Did they not notice the woman in distress? Did they have something that important to get to that they couldn’t stop for a second to help the poor lady out? Dusty was stunned.
He helped the lady and went on his way.. Trying to find some form of hope for this place somewhere.
Time past and he never met anyone worthwhile, nor any place that made the hairs on his arms stand up. This place was dull. Everyone seemed to be stuck in the same routine. Even the people who were out enjoying themselves out on a night in town, seemed robotic and programmed. It seemed as if they were saying what had to be said, laughing on cue and agreeing more than they should. Long awaiting their trip’s back home to take their masks off and shed their skin. To be themselves.
So everything was really just one big charade it seemed to Dusty.. He didn’t see the joy in pretending to be someone you’re not. He was loved for who he was at the Carnie and he couldn’t imagine finding that same feeling here.
So after a few months of renting a dingy bachelor apartment, he knew he couldn’t live his whole life feeling like this. He wasn’t sure what the feeling was cause he hadn’t felt one quite like it but he thinks it was loneliness. He has never felt so alone in his life.
So, Dusty packed up the little belongings he owned and went to find where the Carnie has resided. He went to find home.
Dusty learned that home is where the heart is and it didn’t matter that the Carnie life was not the norm, for him it was the norm and it was what made him happy. He always loved his simple life and was under illusion for a while that he needed something more. All the billboards he’s seen on his road trips from city to city throughout the years, depicted a much grander idea of the real world than he had experienced.
When he was a boy he wanted to be like the other kids he went to school with; live in a normal house, with normal parents who had normal jobs. But he learned that there is no normal. These people were faking it everyday therefore they must have something less bland, less formal to show when they go home and take the masks off. At least something different than what they shared with the world.
So we’re all different in our ways Dusty presumed, but he would much prefer to be in a place where people weren’t afraid to show their different. So he went home, and he never looked back.
If you are interested in reading about a variety of different subjects such as mental health, inside the minds of disturbed artists, the importance of being an introvert, importance of body language and non-verbal communication, the importance of mental rehearsal and imagery, the power of our minds, mindfulness, metaphysics and the cosmic world and how all the great genius’ of the past have tapped into this power to achieve seeming miracles, addiction, abuse, the effects loneliness and so much more, please check out some of my other posts:
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