Sebastian by Alan Field Read Free Book Online Page A

CIRCUS
    And on the other side:
    SEE THE BABY YETI
    I could hear him faintly banging and playing. The scent of grass was everywhere and inside the tent it was a kind of green twilight. I had never been so excited for as long as I could remember - not since I had been taken to the theatre to see the pantomime.
    There was a squeaking noise outside like rusty iron and Vittorio came in carrying his whip.
    â€œRoll up, roll up! Yettino,” he shouted. “Time to go in your cage.”
    He carried me out carefully to avoid knocking off my nose and fangs, and outside was a little menagerie wagon, newly painted in red and blue with squirly gold lettering saying:
    THE ONLY STUFFED BABY YETI IN CAPTIVITY
    â€œHow you like it, eh?” he said, locking me up inside.
    Well, they had been very busy, I could see that. Inside, the cage was covered with what looked like snow, but it wasn’t cold to sit on. And at the back was a painting of icy mountains.
    â€œIt’s where you live - the Himalayas in India,” explained Vittorio. “Don’t forget, don’t say a thing. And try to look as fierce as you can.”
    I was wheeled along next to the big tent where all the performers waited to go on for their acts. The horses had already been lined up, and there was Sandro’s trick motor car painted like a rainbow. Gertie the chimp was in her cage ready for her tea.
    Alberto and Enrico were practising for their trapeze act, shouting “Hup!”, turning somersaults, standing on their heads and leaping on each other’s shoulders. It made me quite dizzy. Through a gap in the canvas I could see all the people coming into the big tent. There was the ring at the centre, covered in sawdust, and the pole disappearing high overhead. Opposite me on the other side of the ring was a group of gilt chairs with red velvet draped along the barrier in front of them.
    â€œIt’s where the mayor sits,” explained Alberto, stopping to take a rest. “He’s very important. If he doesn’t like the show he may not let us come again next year.”
    Well, that was something - having a real mayor to look at me. As long as he didn’t look too closely, and the glue didn’t come off my fangs in the heat. Just then I saw Aldo coming back, carrying the drum. He looked agitated. “Where’s Luigi? Quick - something terrible is going to happen,” he said, coming in and sitting on the drum. “We shall be ruined, ruined!”
    Luigi appeared suddenly with some dumb-bells on his shoulders. “What’s wrong? You broken the drum again?”
    â€œNo, no. Worse, worse,” sobbed Aldo. “We shall be found out, disgraced. What’s Mamma going to say?”
    Luigi sighed and put down his dumb-bells, avoiding Aldo’s big feet. “Tell Luigi what happened.”
    â€œSebastian’s not a real Yeti, that’s the trouble.”
    â€œOf course he’s not a real Yeti - but who knows the difference?” said Luigi irritably.
    â€œAlexander Gregorovitch Topolovsky, that’s who. The great Russian explorer.”
    Luigi went pale and thought a bit. “He couldn’t really have seen a Yeti, could he?”
    â€œHe says so,” nodded Aldo, wiping his nose with a big yellow handkerchief. “He says they have lots of them in Siberia. He says ... ‘If your Yeti isn’t a real Yeti, I’ll ...’And Aldo went off into sobs.
    â€œHe’ll what?” asked Luigi.
    â€œTear him to pieces with his bare hands,” completed Aldo.
    It was my turn to go pale. Nobody noticed of course, under all the black powder and grease paint. I imagined what it would be like to be torn to shreds by a Russian explorer and fainted quite away.
    When I recovered, Luigi was packing me up with some extra snow. “It’s no good, this false nose won’t do at all,” he was saying. “Topolovsky would spot it in a minute. Quick, fetch Sandro and