The circus freaks me out | Eastern North Carolina Now

    The waking dream, turned nightmare, that is the circus entertained hundreds yesterday in Washington. Absurdly presented inside the ramshackle American Legion building at the end of Minuteman Lane, jungle cats stood on two legs and a thunderdome roared.

    A traditional big-top tent might have provided some framework within which to comprehend the grotesque gathering. As it was, the traveling Circus Pages seemed like Salvador Dali had painted on top of an old war photo. That is, at least it did to me. The rest of the crowd seemed as unaffected by the bizarre show as if they were sitting on their couches, eating potato chips and watching Maury.

    The circus began with an act so dangerous it didn't seem possible. Seven male and female white lions and tigers were placed in a cage with a very young, physically unintimidating woman in a purple leotard and heels. She held a stick in either hand, but was, otherwise, defenseless. In an act both surreal and stunning, the 'prey' was able to command her 'hunters' to do tricks for the crowd by calling out to them: "Come here!" and "Relax!"



    The woman, Colleen Pages, said she was taught the act by her grandfather, Jose Pages, who founded the family circus in Cuba in the 1960's. She said working with the lions and tigers gives her an adrenaline rush, but that she is confident in her handling of them.

    "It's more about being agile with them, than being demanding," said Colleen. "I do realize what they are and what they're capable of."





    Colleen's cousin, 7-year-old aerial acrobat Kayla Earhart, followed her in the ring. Upside down, 20 feet in the air, Earhart spun around a rope with no safety harness. During the performance, she adjusted a loop of rope to suit her needs, depending on whether she wanted to dangle from her wrist or ankle. No one looked apprehensive. Even her mother, Circus Pages manager Yolanda Earhart, calmly chatted with a coworker throughout the performance.

    For a while, the dreamlike procession went on with less gasps and more giggles: Canine acrobats were followed by a clown, juggler and costumed camels. Balloons, whips, light-up wands, stuffed animals, cotton candy, circus peanuts, popcorn, nachos and face painting were hawked out to the audience. Shock began transitioning into awe. I started to get used to this reality.





    Then, during intermission, a stench slowly crept over what had become a pleasant, lighthearted daydream. When the elephants came out to chauffeur children around the ring, I was overjoyed. With each lap, however, the atmosphere grew more and more uncomfortable. The air was thick with body heat and elephant dung. I tried to hang onto the excitement of seeing extracontinental life, but after a while it wasn't enough.

    With the mood thus set, the circus resumed with an event billed as the Globe of Death. All of a sudden, the grating buzz of what sounded like 5000 chainsaws cut through the dank air like a serrated knife. Three motorcycles with extra-loud pipes sped around Colleen as she stood motionless inside a spherical cage. Children and adults within feet of the cage sat and stared with wide eyes, unobstructed ears and open mouths; though completely across the venue I was so tense I thought my head might explode. I obtained the best photo possible while trying to block noise from my ear using my shoulder, and then I rushed out, never to return.

    Following its two afternoon performances in Washington, Circus Pages was headed, yesterday evening, to Elizabeth City. The circus travels throughout the United States and Canada nine months of the year, and averages a stop in Washington about once every three years.