the lyrical law

The Carousel Keeper 

There, in what literally must have been The Middle of Nowhere, stood the carousel. It is rare, a carousel of that type. Especially one that stood in a place like this, in a time like that. And next to the carousel, a small trailer where the carroussel keeper could sleep. Not that she slept that often.

She was a remarkable person, this carousel keeper. She seemed timeless and was in many ways indescribable. She gave the impression that she lacked an age and you could never really tell if she was young, old, or something in between. Nothing could be said of her appearance either. She was not ugly or pretty. She had no distinctive features but she was not bland either. Everything about her would ultimately be a judgement call, made by whichever individual that lay his or her eyes upon this carousel keeper.

It might be worth noting that this ‘upon-laying of eyes’ did not happen frequently. In fact, it had been a couple of years since someone had visited the carousel. The carousel keeper truly missed the customers; the cries of the children and the reluctance of the adults to pay their fees. 

Ah, sighed the carousel keeper, how bored she was. How much time she had to spare and to ponder upon this feeling that she labeled ‘l’ennui’. 

There was some work there and she completed her tasks gratefully. The carousel keeper cleaned the animals with great care. She polished the metal horses, the pigs and the birds. She tried hard not to look them in their mechanical eyes. To her these red and grey brass creatures looked terrible, terrifying. They silently put an emphasis on her solitude.

The carousel was cleaned every day. The mechanisms were tested and the fairground organ was playing from sunrise until sunset. This music, carousel-music, is impossible to describe to someone who has never heard those ambiguous melodies. Music that fuels enthusiasm and expectations when it is in the company of a lively carnical, but that transforms into something different completely when it is played in desolation. 

Yes this particular carousel filled the carousel keeper with terror and despair. Why did she stay here then? And why did she brush up the awful animals and play the menacing music, when there were never any customers?

But look, here comes one now. 

Here comes a child and oh my, what a strange specimen this is, thought the carousel keeper.

Is this little girl not a bit too big to be a child? She was taller than the carousel keeper or even her trailer.

And did she not have a little too much beard?

She told the carousel keeper that she was The Bearded Lady. The carousel keeper thought it best to believe her. 

Will your parents be joining you soon, inquired the keeper.

I very much belive not, said the customer with a trace of grieve.

No worry my little customer, this is not one of those places where everything has to be analysed and accounted for in advance. Tell me, would you like to ride the carousel?

Oh yes, answered the customer and she asked about the cost.

Well that depends on your experience. Please, if you will, take a ride first. When you are finished, tell me whether you have enjoyed yourself. If it has been enjoyable you can make a donation you see fit. No donations should be wasted on an unpleasant experience.  

Strange economics, thought The Bearded Lady, as she went towards the carousel. She spent a great deal of time selecting a suitable animal for her to ride on.

First she approached an impish looking pig. She decided against it after she heard the carousel keeper refer to it as ‘a boar’.

And that one over there? That fiendsih iron bird with an overall prehistoric vibe? The Bearded Lady appreciated its looks but could not sit on it gracefully. Her skirts and shawls always got in the way.

Ah, over there, that colossal horse. A realistic looking steel stallion. He was all muscles and flaring nostrils.

The eyes, thought The Bearded Lady, it had such terrible eyes. 

The carousel keeper helped her customer up on the horse and hurried over to the carousel-booth.

She changed the music into a fast paced, dizzying waltz that seemed more fit for her customer. Then more lights, yes, the carousel lit up in bright whites, reds and yellows. Now they were getting somewhere. Finally, a button was pushed, a handle was moved and the carousel started its motion.

The carousel started slowly and for a while it seemed as if it would just stop again. But no, the speed increased. The whole machine spun round, bright and surreal. All the metal animals, the Lady observed, had their own specific movement. Going up or down, jumping forward. Almost lifelike, thought The Bearded Lady, and started to smile. Her stallion moved in accordance with his sculptured muscles. Hurling forward with surprising force.Suddenly The Bearded Lady noticed that she had nothing to hold on to. Should she shout at the carousel keeper? No, if she leaned forward deep enough she could hold on to the beast’s neck.

The speed of the carousel kept increasing and the distance of the horses’ hurls increased along with it. What an amazing machine it was. The wind became stronger, rustling through skirts, shawls, hair and beard. They were going very fast now, the Lady and the animals. Even faster, yes, it started to seem impossible.

Those lights, were they growing brighter as well? The Bearded Lady could not tell. She dared not to look up; instead she leaned forward even more to tighten her grip around the brute mechanical force beneath her.

The speed grew immeasurable and the lights grew as bright as if they were each a tiny sun. The Bearded Lady grew slightly terrified. Was that smoke she smelt? Yes, it was. She could see the smoke clearly now. An impossible smoke, not from a fire or from a cigar. The smoke came from those terrible nostrils.

The Bearded Lady let out a small cry. Could it be true that this mechanical animal was not mechanical at all? Its movements became too authentic. She could hear its excited breath. The awful creature turned his head slighlty, looking at The Bearded Lady with its red metal eye. The Lady closed hers, this she had not expected. Was the ride not over yet? No, not yet. She heard a series of metallic noises. Did the carousel break loose? It was spinning so fast that it must have let go of the ground. Slowly it rose higher to the sky. The Bearded Lady could sense it, but was too afraid to look. Higher and higher the carousel rose and all the while its lights were turning brighter. 

The Bearded Lady opened one eye and saw that this was not true.

No, the carousel had not rissen above the ground. On the contrary. They had gone underground and slowly everything was growing darker.

The Bearded Lady did not believe in hell but she was sure that this was where the horse was taking her. She screamed.

The carousel stopped, not abruptly. The Bearded Lady was trembling all over and the carousel keeper had to carry her of the machine. Cradling her in her arms. The trembling did not cease. The carousel keeper offered the Lady a type of liquor which seemed to help.

The Bearded Lady gazed up at the face of the carousel keeper. She slowly lifted herself up and pressed a kiss on the cheek of the keeper.

Have you enjoyed it, wondered the carousel keeper.

The ride had been horrifying, but the customer was someone who was born to appreciate terror.

Yes, but is appreciation a form of enjoyment?  

Oh yes, appreciation was very much like that, thought The Bearded Lady, and a donation should be made.

Well, that is entirely up to you. The carousel keeper asked several times if she was quite sure.

A decission had been made and the Lady felt that an experience like that of the carousel could not go unrewarded.

Very well, said the carousel keeper, you are allowed to donate. Any donations will be put straight into the maintenance of the carousel-animals.

The carousel keeper helped the Lady up and guided her to the centre of the carousel. There was a red tarp there, covering a shallow pit. The Bearded Lady stepped down into it. It was a small circle that smelled of dry sand and grease. In the middle stood an old wooden table. The Bearded Lady went to lie down on it. Where had the carousel keeper gone?

The music stopped and the keeper returned, carrying a set of surgical equipment. 

You are quite sure? The keeper did not want to rush anything, but the Lady was quite sure. 

Shawls were removed, skin was removed, a heart was removed.

The Bearded Lady smiled as she made her donation.

The carousel keeper finished up her tasks for the day. She cleaned the carousel and turned it off. Then she went into her trailer, put on one of her favourite jazz-records and softly hummed along.