The Great Juanita
Marvin loved the carnival. As a fifteen-year-old, Marvin didn’t know much about the outside world, but visiting the carnival was as close as he would ever get. One afternoon, he was sitting by himself on the grass having just seen the Alligator Man, when a large, well-dressed figure stepped in front of him. It was the ringmaster.
“Say, kid, you want a job?” the ringmaster asked. Wide-eyed, Marvin nodded. The ringmaster looked him up and down. “Well, you’re too scrawny to be a strongman, and judging by that dopey expression on your face, you’re too dimwitted to be a talker or a mentalist.”
“I’ll do anything, sir,” said Marvin.
“Anything, you say?” replied the ringmaster. “I’ll tell you what, you can take your pick. Either you’re a head-in-a-jar, or you’re a bearded lady.”
“But sir, I’m not a lady, nor can I grow a beard.”
“That’s not a problem,” answered the ringmaster. “Be here at ten tomorrow and we’ll fix you up real good.” And with that, the ringmaster turned and walked away. Marvin was ecstatic. He dashed back home and packed his belongings into a knapsack. He would leave a note for his parents in the morning. He was finally going to see the world.
That is how Marvin became a carnie called Juanita. Wearing a dress with ripe tomatoes stuffed in the bodice, and donning a false beard, Marvin paraded on a stage three times a day. He would wave and walk back and forth on the stage while a talker would spin elaborate tales of Juanita’s life. For a small fee, Marvin would give a patron a kiss on the cheek and batter his eyelids, sending the watching crowd into hysterics. Marvin loved his new life. He was travelling up and down the country, seeing new places and meeting new people. He was no longer the simple, sheltered boy, sitting on the grass, clapping his hands for each and every sideshow. He was the sideshow and people were clapping their hands for him. He was The Great Juanita.
On one such occasion, a young boy, about Marvin’s age, paid his fee and eagerly awaited his kiss. As Marvin leant in, the boy grabbed his waist and planted a kiss square on Marvin’s mouth. Shocked, Marvin pulled back, but the boy wouldn’t let go.
“Come on, Juanita,” the boy said, in a creepy tone. “You know you want to.” The boy pulled Marvin in close, pressing his chest against Marvin’s, and one of the tomatoes hidden in the bodice burst.
“What the hell?” exclaimed the boy. He pulled down Marvin’s dress and the other tomato fell out and landed with a splat! on the ground. The crowd erupted into laughter as Marvin covered himself and ran back into the tent behind the stage, totally humiliated.
That evening, the ringmaster came into Marvin’s tent.
“I heard what happened with the mooch today,” he said. “You blew it, kid. We’ll drop you off at the nearest station and you can hop a train back home.”
“Yes, sir,” replied Marvin, hanging his head.
“For what it’s worth, kid,” said the ringmaster, putting a hand on Marvin’s shoulder. “Juanita was great. Really great. Come back in a few years and you can be a missing link.” The ringmaster left the tent and Marvin was alone, processing what had just happened. He lay back on his bed, put his hands behind his head and smiled. The stories that he would tell his old ma. He had been given a taste of the outside world, a taste of life, and he had liked it.
