20

TOO MANY SALTY PLUMS

‘Ladies and gentlemen … ’ a voice booms over the speakers. ‘Welcome to BIGTOP Circus! The show will start in five minutes — please find your seats!’

Nanna grabs me by the hand. ‘C’mon, boy, hurry up!’ she says.

I have to think fast. Those freaky clowns might be here and chances are they’ll see me if I sit down. Besides, I need to look for Coach Bennett and Justice. They’ve got to be here somewhere.

‘But Nanna, I’m busting!’ I say, buying some time.

‘Again! You been eating too many of my salty plums,’ she growls.

‘Ooh, I love those salty plums,’ says Aunty Merle, rubbing her hands together.

‘It’s okay,’ I say. ‘I’ll catch up with you.’

Nanna hands me my ticket and enters the big top with Aunty Merle. I walk straight past the toilet block and come across a door that says ‘Make-up’. I sneak inside.

The same voice comes over the speakers again. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, tonight’s performance is a sellout!’

Wow, a sellout show. If that’s the case, I better find something decent to wear. I might need some make-up too, for the ultimate disguise. I’ve never put on make-up before, but there’s a first time for everything

I’ve tackled Greg Inglis from the Rabbitohs. I’ve pulled hits on George Rose from the Dragons and Frank Pritchard from the Bulldogs. But when I look in the mirror, I know that this may be the bravest, dumbest thing I’ve ever done. There’s no way they’ll recognise me dressed as a female trapeze artist. I start by putting on heaps of shiny blue eye shadow. Next, I grab the brightest pink lipstick I can find. Although I’ve never done this before, I’ve seen Mum do it heaps of times and I press my lips together like she does. I’m not sure why she does it, but I decide to do the same.

But I still just look like a kid with way too much stuff on my face. I need to do something with my hair. At the top of a cupboard, there’s a stack of wigs — rainbow-coloured wigs, mullet wigs and even a curly yellow one that explodes into a massive afro! Luckily I find a black wig with long pig-tails to pull over my scruffy black hair. In the wardrobe, I find a glittery green top and matching tights. They feel the same as the recovery skins that I wear to training, except they’re sparkly! The things I do for Justice Jones.

The lion tamer is sticking his head inside the mouths of the big cats when I walk into the big top. I try to blend in with the other performers, but I don’t like the attention I’m getting.

‘Come over here and have a selfie with me!’ yells one spotty teenage boy. He’s wearing a North Queensland Cowboys hat.

‘Too busy, sorry,’ I say, in the silliest girl’s voice ever.

As I walk away from spotty boy, I scan the outside of the circus ring for Justice or Coach Bennett and then I see the pole. At the top are two clowns. The smaller clown’s bleached-white face has a look of terror upon it. He can’t take his eyes off the ground below. I’ve seen that look before. No way! It’s Justice and that must be Coach Bennett!

Across the tent, I finally spot the two clowns that chased Justice and me before school that day. They still look freaky. The lights go down and the circus ringmaster walks into the spotlight.