[fic][dgure] Juggling
Juggling
by vikki
Summary: Sequel to Christmas. Now at a new circus with Mana, Allen learns how to juggle. Maybe clowns aren't so bad after all.
“My name is Mana Walker, and this is my assistant, Allen.” Mana bowed deeply to Monsieur Fredrich, removing his top hat as he did so artfully. Allen remained standing, his hands in his pockets, but he nodded his head. “We’re looking for good employment as clowns and have heard much about your illustrious circus.”
Allen shot a glare at Mana’s bowing form. What!? I’m no clown! But he was silent as Mana righted himself.
Monsieur Fredrich was the ringmaster and owner of the Loiusville Circus in France. His English was thickly accented, so much so that Allen had a hard time understanding him. “It is pleasure to meet you,” he said, brushing his fingers through his thick mustache. He was short and round, and his face was red from too much alcohol. “But we do not need new clown now. Unless you are very good. Are you very good, Monsieur Walker?”
“Ah, indubitably,” Mana smiled. “Will you allow us to stay the night and warm our bellies with a meal? And tomorrow I will show you a true clown.”
“Haha! You are confident one,” Fredrich laughed. “I like you. You can stay for night. Sleep with crew.” He clapped his hands and spoke in French to a passing girl, who rolled her eyes and nodded and said ‘Oui oui’ with the air of someone used to frivolity. “You follow her. I see you perform in morning, yes?” But before Mana could answer, the girl beckoned to them.
“You follow me,” she said sharply, but she gave Allen a kind smile. Allen kept his hands shoved in his pockets so she wouldn’t see his deformity and change her mind.
“Having a cute kid along makes things easier,” Mana laughed when they were put up on a straw pallet. “She gave us this soup because she liked your face, Allen.”
Allen’s soup was already almost gone. It was mostly broth, obviously the bottom of the barrel, but it warmed him in the chill January air. He clutched the mug close. “I shoulda guessed you’re just using me,” he grumbled. “She’d change her tune fast if she saw my hand.”
“Mm,” Mana murmured. He pressed his own mug to his ruddy cheek. “That’s likely true. Smart of you, Allen, to keep your hand covered.” He looked down at Allen; Allen clenched his jaw, flicking his gaze towards Mana but unable to hold his gaze. “I hope you don’t believe any nonsense about being cursed.”
Allen pouted irritably. “Might as well be,” he grumbled into his mug, swallowing the last of his meal whole. He almost choked in surprise when Mana’s arm wrapped around him, clutching his opposite shoulder and drawing Allen up against his side. He was warm.
“You never know, Allen,” Mana said, and when Allen glanced up at him Mana was looking off into the distance. Without his clown makeup on, the man was pretty tolerable, he decided. “God’s gifts come in strange packages.”
Allen had heard a similar thing once, from the priest at the church his orphanage had been attached to. He spat at the ground. “The day this arm does me good is the day I swear m’self to God,” he grumbled. “And get offa me, you weirdo.”
Mana released him, and Allen couldn’t help a small shiver. He needed a coat, but even though Mana had collected enough money to travel to France and to keep food in their stomachs, there wasn’t enough for a luxury like a winter coat. “Fine,” Mana scoffed, “if you want to die of cold tonight, I suppose that’s your business.”
“Damn right it is,” Allen grumbled, but he put down the cooling mug and wrapped his arms around his knees. Mana’s lips quirked into a smile. Allen glared at him. “What’s so funny!? You keep laughing at dumb things!”
Mana chuckled at that and Allen aimed a kick at Mana’s shins. Mana winced appropriately, rubbing the spot. “Hmph. You’re so ungrateful. Well, there is another way to keep warm for now.”
Allen offered a flat stare.
Mana twisted away from Allen, reaching into his bag, and came up with three palm-sized balls. “You can learn how to juggle,” he offered. “What do you think?”
Allen remembered then that Mana had called Allen his assistant to Fredrich. “I think you’re daft. I’m not gonna be a clown.”
“Oh, you want to be an errand boy again, then?” Mana raised his eyebrows. “You’re going to have to earn your keep, you know. I’ve let you go for now because there was money and your face is cute, but no circus wants dead weight.”
Allen considered this. All in all, it wasn’t much of a choice. At the Cirque de Solace Allen had been at everyone’s beck and call, even Cosimo, and between having to do everything for everyone and having to do only what Mana asked, it was an easy decision. “Fine, fine,” he grumbled, and got to his feet, clapping his hands together to warm them up. He wiggled his fingers and held out his hands. “Give them to me.”
Mana tossed him a single ball. Allen caught it and waited for the others, but Mana merely stood up. “There are many ways to juggle, but first you have to start with one ball.” He tossed one of the balls in his hand into the air and it landed neatly in his other palm. He moved his hands barely more than an inch.
Allen frowned. “That’s easy.” He tossed his ball from his right hand to his left.
“Ah, no, it’s not as easy as it looks,” Mana shook one finger at Allen. “Try again. You should move as little as possible. If you have to stretch for one ball, imagine how much you will have to stretch for three, or ten!”
Allen didn’t see how this exercise was going to keep him warm. He tossed the ball back from his left to his right, and at Mana’s insistence, from his right to his left, over and over again until he was bored. He started balancing on one foot then the other as he did so, trying to stamp the life back into his cold toes.
“Hah,” Mana laughed abruptly. “Ready to balance on balls, are we? It may be simple, but you balance is exquisite.”
Allen didn’t know what ‘exquisite’ meant, so he ignored Mana. “I’m cold!” he protested. “You said this would warm me up!”
“Well, we’ll see how cold you are after two balls.” He threw a second ball at Allen while the first was in midair; Allen reached up to catch the ball coming at his head at the same time as the first smacked into his palm. “I believe you’ll be a natural at this, Allen.”
Allen snorted. Mana produced a fourth ball from his pocket and demonstrated what he wanted Allen to do. It was a little more challenging. Allen dropped the balls twice from cold fingers before he got the hang of it. “This is still boring,” Allen grumbled.
“Endure it a little longer,” Mana chided. “Is it more boring than hauling water?”
“Mayhaps.”
“Then go ahead and try three.” Mana again tossed a ball into what Allen was in the middle of doing. Allen yelped; the ball beaned him in the head. He staggered back, fumbling for the new ball and managed to catch it between both hands before losing his footing and falling on his butt in the straw.
Mana burst out laughing. Allen glared at him, but before he could say anything Mana said, “Now that, Allen - but on purpose - is clowning!”
&
“I hate this makeup.” Allen scowled at Mana as his face was painted white and red, made to match Mana’s falsely smiling face. “Why do I hafta wear it?”
“Because you can’t smile like a normal person,” Mana said mildly, smearing the red paint up Allen’s cheek with a brush. “At least this way you will fool people into thinking you’re a happy child.”
Allen rolled his eyes but he endured the makeup anyway. Fredrich was making them entertain the lines into the big top. The thought of having to be pleasant to a mile of rich folks irritated him, but at the end of the day there would be a hot meal and a bed close to the nightly bonfire and for that, Allen could endure.
“And for this, Fredrich has given you a gift,” Mana continued. He wiped his fingers off on a rag and picked up the brown bag he had brought in with him, pulling out its contents. “A coat of many colors, just like Joseph.” Indeed, the coat was colorful - mismatched patches of quilted material, it was far too big. It would cover Allen to his knees.
Allen remembered the story of Joseph from church, and he half-lidded his eyes. “Joseph’s family tried to kill him ‘cause of the coat.”
“Well, while any insane man would be jealous of this coat, I doubt your life is in danger.” Mana chuckled and threw it over Allen’s shoulders; Allen backed off a step, refusing to let Mana help him put it on. Still, the sleeves were so long that Mana had to roll them up for Allen. “Is it warm?” he asked.
Allen didn’t want to admit it, but the coat was indeed warm. At length he nodded.
“Good. And now you look like a clown instead of a boy with silly makeup.”
“You’re the one who put it on me!”
“Hm, it’s true!” Mana grinned, showing white teeth, and got back to his feet with a groan. “Ah, my knees …”
Allen held out his hands impatiently. Mana looked at him for a moment blankly, then snapped a finger and handed Allen four balls, two for each hand. “Your joints creak and you forget stuff … how old’re you anyway?” Allen asked. He knew he’d get a silly answer in response, though, so he wondered why he bothered.
But Mana just sighed. “Too old, Allen, and not old enough.” He shrugged exaggeratedly. “Maybe I should just go ahead and die …”
Allen kicked Mana’s shoe. “That joke is already old!” In truth, it bothered him. Even though Mana was weird and a clown (and Allen still hated clowns) and liked to make fun of Allen, he wasn’t like anyone else. Even though Mana said he hated kids like Allen, Allen knew it wasn’t true. And it was nice to be liked.
Mana ignored Allen, leading the way out of the makeup tent to where the line was forming. “Remember, Allen, even if you mess up, nobody cares because you’re a clown. Just keep smiling. Your makeup will make sure of that,” he grinned. “Are you ready to try that trick?”
Allen shrugged. “I guess.”
“Then here we go!” Mana’s arms swept under Allen’s armpits and he was lifted onto Mana’s back. Allen dug his heels into Mana’s shoulders to keep his balance. “How’s the view up there?”
Allen had been on Mana’s shoulders before for this trick, but it was kind of fun. Except in a wagon, Allen had gone everywhere on his own two feet for as long as he could remember. Riding on Mana’s shoulders was fun, not that he was about to admit it. “I’m ready,” he answered instead, and started to carefully stand on Mana’s shoulders. Mana clutched his feet so Allen could stay steady.
The French children were already starting to stare and point as they approached. They were well dressed and wore gloves and coats, their cheeks red from the cold. Their breath came out in puffs of white. Although Allen couldn’t understand what they were saying, their parents turned their heads as well, smiling indulgently at the two clowns. They held their children’s hands to keep them close. Allen doubted that any of them would survive so much as a day without their parents.
Allen took a deep breath and put his hands in his pockets, pulling out three of the juggling balls, and Mana bent his legs without bending at the waist, a kind of bow. “Welcome to the Cirque de Louisville!” he called, and Allen remembered that was his cue to juggle.
He kept the balls in the air for six minutes. A ball landed in his hand every second. Mana had taught him to count that way. He couldn’t change how he juggled without stopping entirely, but he could circle juggle as well. It was actually easier than usual juggling, his hands just had to move faster. But he could only do it for so long before he dropped a ball. “Ah!”
Mana’s hand came away from Allen’s foot to catch the falling ball, but Allen wasn’t expecting it. He overbalanced. Mana started to roll forward under him. Allen toppled, somersaulting towards the ground.
Allen didn’t want to land on his head no matter what. He curled up into a ball, trying to twist more so he would land on his feet, when a pair of hands caught him under his elbows. His feet touched the ground lightly before Mana properly put him on his feet. “Bow, Allen,” he said quietly, and Allen realized he was laughing.
He didn’t think anything was funny about this, but he bowed anyway; he was surprised to hear frantic clapping from the line. He lifted his head in surprise.
“Maybe you should be a tumbler instead,” Mana mused aloud, straightening and starting to juggle four pins that came from his massive clown pants. “The show must go on!” he added, and in the midst of his juggling, he threw the ball Allen had dropped back at him. Allen jumped, catching the ball on reflex, and started to juggle as well.
He didn’t realize until the Big Top opened, but even though his red hand was exposed, no-one had said a word about it.
ende(ish)
by vikki
Summary: Sequel to Christmas. Now at a new circus with Mana, Allen learns how to juggle. Maybe clowns aren't so bad after all.
“My name is Mana Walker, and this is my assistant, Allen.” Mana bowed deeply to Monsieur Fredrich, removing his top hat as he did so artfully. Allen remained standing, his hands in his pockets, but he nodded his head. “We’re looking for good employment as clowns and have heard much about your illustrious circus.”
Allen shot a glare at Mana’s bowing form. What!? I’m no clown! But he was silent as Mana righted himself.
Monsieur Fredrich was the ringmaster and owner of the Loiusville Circus in France. His English was thickly accented, so much so that Allen had a hard time understanding him. “It is pleasure to meet you,” he said, brushing his fingers through his thick mustache. He was short and round, and his face was red from too much alcohol. “But we do not need new clown now. Unless you are very good. Are you very good, Monsieur Walker?”
“Ah, indubitably,” Mana smiled. “Will you allow us to stay the night and warm our bellies with a meal? And tomorrow I will show you a true clown.”
“Haha! You are confident one,” Fredrich laughed. “I like you. You can stay for night. Sleep with crew.” He clapped his hands and spoke in French to a passing girl, who rolled her eyes and nodded and said ‘Oui oui’ with the air of someone used to frivolity. “You follow her. I see you perform in morning, yes?” But before Mana could answer, the girl beckoned to them.
“You follow me,” she said sharply, but she gave Allen a kind smile. Allen kept his hands shoved in his pockets so she wouldn’t see his deformity and change her mind.
“Having a cute kid along makes things easier,” Mana laughed when they were put up on a straw pallet. “She gave us this soup because she liked your face, Allen.”
Allen’s soup was already almost gone. It was mostly broth, obviously the bottom of the barrel, but it warmed him in the chill January air. He clutched the mug close. “I shoulda guessed you’re just using me,” he grumbled. “She’d change her tune fast if she saw my hand.”
“Mm,” Mana murmured. He pressed his own mug to his ruddy cheek. “That’s likely true. Smart of you, Allen, to keep your hand covered.” He looked down at Allen; Allen clenched his jaw, flicking his gaze towards Mana but unable to hold his gaze. “I hope you don’t believe any nonsense about being cursed.”
Allen pouted irritably. “Might as well be,” he grumbled into his mug, swallowing the last of his meal whole. He almost choked in surprise when Mana’s arm wrapped around him, clutching his opposite shoulder and drawing Allen up against his side. He was warm.
“You never know, Allen,” Mana said, and when Allen glanced up at him Mana was looking off into the distance. Without his clown makeup on, the man was pretty tolerable, he decided. “God’s gifts come in strange packages.”
Allen had heard a similar thing once, from the priest at the church his orphanage had been attached to. He spat at the ground. “The day this arm does me good is the day I swear m’self to God,” he grumbled. “And get offa me, you weirdo.”
Mana released him, and Allen couldn’t help a small shiver. He needed a coat, but even though Mana had collected enough money to travel to France and to keep food in their stomachs, there wasn’t enough for a luxury like a winter coat. “Fine,” Mana scoffed, “if you want to die of cold tonight, I suppose that’s your business.”
“Damn right it is,” Allen grumbled, but he put down the cooling mug and wrapped his arms around his knees. Mana’s lips quirked into a smile. Allen glared at him. “What’s so funny!? You keep laughing at dumb things!”
Mana chuckled at that and Allen aimed a kick at Mana’s shins. Mana winced appropriately, rubbing the spot. “Hmph. You’re so ungrateful. Well, there is another way to keep warm for now.”
Allen offered a flat stare.
Mana twisted away from Allen, reaching into his bag, and came up with three palm-sized balls. “You can learn how to juggle,” he offered. “What do you think?”
Allen remembered then that Mana had called Allen his assistant to Fredrich. “I think you’re daft. I’m not gonna be a clown.”
“Oh, you want to be an errand boy again, then?” Mana raised his eyebrows. “You’re going to have to earn your keep, you know. I’ve let you go for now because there was money and your face is cute, but no circus wants dead weight.”
Allen considered this. All in all, it wasn’t much of a choice. At the Cirque de Solace Allen had been at everyone’s beck and call, even Cosimo, and between having to do everything for everyone and having to do only what Mana asked, it was an easy decision. “Fine, fine,” he grumbled, and got to his feet, clapping his hands together to warm them up. He wiggled his fingers and held out his hands. “Give them to me.”
Mana tossed him a single ball. Allen caught it and waited for the others, but Mana merely stood up. “There are many ways to juggle, but first you have to start with one ball.” He tossed one of the balls in his hand into the air and it landed neatly in his other palm. He moved his hands barely more than an inch.
Allen frowned. “That’s easy.” He tossed his ball from his right hand to his left.
“Ah, no, it’s not as easy as it looks,” Mana shook one finger at Allen. “Try again. You should move as little as possible. If you have to stretch for one ball, imagine how much you will have to stretch for three, or ten!”
Allen didn’t see how this exercise was going to keep him warm. He tossed the ball back from his left to his right, and at Mana’s insistence, from his right to his left, over and over again until he was bored. He started balancing on one foot then the other as he did so, trying to stamp the life back into his cold toes.
“Hah,” Mana laughed abruptly. “Ready to balance on balls, are we? It may be simple, but you balance is exquisite.”
Allen didn’t know what ‘exquisite’ meant, so he ignored Mana. “I’m cold!” he protested. “You said this would warm me up!”
“Well, we’ll see how cold you are after two balls.” He threw a second ball at Allen while the first was in midair; Allen reached up to catch the ball coming at his head at the same time as the first smacked into his palm. “I believe you’ll be a natural at this, Allen.”
Allen snorted. Mana produced a fourth ball from his pocket and demonstrated what he wanted Allen to do. It was a little more challenging. Allen dropped the balls twice from cold fingers before he got the hang of it. “This is still boring,” Allen grumbled.
“Endure it a little longer,” Mana chided. “Is it more boring than hauling water?”
“Mayhaps.”
“Then go ahead and try three.” Mana again tossed a ball into what Allen was in the middle of doing. Allen yelped; the ball beaned him in the head. He staggered back, fumbling for the new ball and managed to catch it between both hands before losing his footing and falling on his butt in the straw.
Mana burst out laughing. Allen glared at him, but before he could say anything Mana said, “Now that, Allen - but on purpose - is clowning!”
&
“I hate this makeup.” Allen scowled at Mana as his face was painted white and red, made to match Mana’s falsely smiling face. “Why do I hafta wear it?”
“Because you can’t smile like a normal person,” Mana said mildly, smearing the red paint up Allen’s cheek with a brush. “At least this way you will fool people into thinking you’re a happy child.”
Allen rolled his eyes but he endured the makeup anyway. Fredrich was making them entertain the lines into the big top. The thought of having to be pleasant to a mile of rich folks irritated him, but at the end of the day there would be a hot meal and a bed close to the nightly bonfire and for that, Allen could endure.
“And for this, Fredrich has given you a gift,” Mana continued. He wiped his fingers off on a rag and picked up the brown bag he had brought in with him, pulling out its contents. “A coat of many colors, just like Joseph.” Indeed, the coat was colorful - mismatched patches of quilted material, it was far too big. It would cover Allen to his knees.
Allen remembered the story of Joseph from church, and he half-lidded his eyes. “Joseph’s family tried to kill him ‘cause of the coat.”
“Well, while any insane man would be jealous of this coat, I doubt your life is in danger.” Mana chuckled and threw it over Allen’s shoulders; Allen backed off a step, refusing to let Mana help him put it on. Still, the sleeves were so long that Mana had to roll them up for Allen. “Is it warm?” he asked.
Allen didn’t want to admit it, but the coat was indeed warm. At length he nodded.
“Good. And now you look like a clown instead of a boy with silly makeup.”
“You’re the one who put it on me!”
“Hm, it’s true!” Mana grinned, showing white teeth, and got back to his feet with a groan. “Ah, my knees …”
Allen held out his hands impatiently. Mana looked at him for a moment blankly, then snapped a finger and handed Allen four balls, two for each hand. “Your joints creak and you forget stuff … how old’re you anyway?” Allen asked. He knew he’d get a silly answer in response, though, so he wondered why he bothered.
But Mana just sighed. “Too old, Allen, and not old enough.” He shrugged exaggeratedly. “Maybe I should just go ahead and die …”
Allen kicked Mana’s shoe. “That joke is already old!” In truth, it bothered him. Even though Mana was weird and a clown (and Allen still hated clowns) and liked to make fun of Allen, he wasn’t like anyone else. Even though Mana said he hated kids like Allen, Allen knew it wasn’t true. And it was nice to be liked.
Mana ignored Allen, leading the way out of the makeup tent to where the line was forming. “Remember, Allen, even if you mess up, nobody cares because you’re a clown. Just keep smiling. Your makeup will make sure of that,” he grinned. “Are you ready to try that trick?”
Allen shrugged. “I guess.”
“Then here we go!” Mana’s arms swept under Allen’s armpits and he was lifted onto Mana’s back. Allen dug his heels into Mana’s shoulders to keep his balance. “How’s the view up there?”
Allen had been on Mana’s shoulders before for this trick, but it was kind of fun. Except in a wagon, Allen had gone everywhere on his own two feet for as long as he could remember. Riding on Mana’s shoulders was fun, not that he was about to admit it. “I’m ready,” he answered instead, and started to carefully stand on Mana’s shoulders. Mana clutched his feet so Allen could stay steady.
The French children were already starting to stare and point as they approached. They were well dressed and wore gloves and coats, their cheeks red from the cold. Their breath came out in puffs of white. Although Allen couldn’t understand what they were saying, their parents turned their heads as well, smiling indulgently at the two clowns. They held their children’s hands to keep them close. Allen doubted that any of them would survive so much as a day without their parents.
Allen took a deep breath and put his hands in his pockets, pulling out three of the juggling balls, and Mana bent his legs without bending at the waist, a kind of bow. “Welcome to the Cirque de Louisville!” he called, and Allen remembered that was his cue to juggle.
He kept the balls in the air for six minutes. A ball landed in his hand every second. Mana had taught him to count that way. He couldn’t change how he juggled without stopping entirely, but he could circle juggle as well. It was actually easier than usual juggling, his hands just had to move faster. But he could only do it for so long before he dropped a ball. “Ah!”
Mana’s hand came away from Allen’s foot to catch the falling ball, but Allen wasn’t expecting it. He overbalanced. Mana started to roll forward under him. Allen toppled, somersaulting towards the ground.
Allen didn’t want to land on his head no matter what. He curled up into a ball, trying to twist more so he would land on his feet, when a pair of hands caught him under his elbows. His feet touched the ground lightly before Mana properly put him on his feet. “Bow, Allen,” he said quietly, and Allen realized he was laughing.
He didn’t think anything was funny about this, but he bowed anyway; he was surprised to hear frantic clapping from the line. He lifted his head in surprise.
“Maybe you should be a tumbler instead,” Mana mused aloud, straightening and starting to juggle four pins that came from his massive clown pants. “The show must go on!” he added, and in the midst of his juggling, he threw the ball Allen had dropped back at him. Allen jumped, catching the ball on reflex, and started to juggle as well.
He didn’t realize until the Big Top opened, but even though his red hand was exposed, no-one had said a word about it.
ende(ish)