Part 2
Claudia sat on the wooden boardwalk railing in her usual spot, slowly spinning her lit torches with her fingertips. Thankfully she had scared off the couple for the time being. She took a puff from the cigarette she held between her lips and exhaled the smoke slowly through her nostrils.
On the ground beneath her sat the bottle of paraffin wax, her backpack, and her black derby hat turned upside down on the boardwalk. A few onlookers stood watching her as she puffed away at her cigarette.
She took one last drag and spit the cigarette from her lips, back over her head and onto the beach behind her. Slowly she rose to her feet, standing barefoot on the wooden railing.
Her fingers began spinning the torches faster and she glanced down at one of the onlookers, her eyes drawn the the red cap on his head.
"You, red hat," she said, "In my backpack is a red metal box. I want you to get it for me."
The man in the red baseball cap spoke up in an inquisitive tone, "Me?"
Claudia tossed the torch from her right hand up behind her back, it arched forward over her head and she caught it, "No, the fireman behind you."
The man looked behind him and she chuckled along with a few others in the group before her.
"Yes, you," she said.
The man stepped forward and reached into her backpack, withdrawing the slim metal box from inside.
"Good, now open it up and pull out the other torch," she instructed.
He popped open the safety latches and removed the torch, holding it up to her.
"There should be a bottle of everclear in there too, dunk the wick in it. Don't drink it!" She said as she began to juggle the torches.
The man in the red cap pulled the bottle of grain alcohol from her backpack, twisted off the lid and inserted the wick into the bottle, soaking it thoroughly.
"There you go, now, take the torch out and put it all back," she said, the man quickly did as he was told.
Claudia held the torches in one hand and looked at the handful of onlookers.
"Now . . ." She said, squatting down as she stood on the rail, her eyes shifting from one person to the next. "Who has a light?"
A couple of them scoffed and folded their arms.
"Nobody" She asked with her eyebrow raised. "Oh well. Red hat, toss me the torch."
"Um . . how?" He asked nervously.
Claudia smirked, "You swing your arm forward and let go with your fingers."
"No, I mean underhand or overhand?" He reiterated.
Claudia stood up straight on the handrail and began juggling the torches once again, "Surprise me."
The man shrugged and lobbed the torch at her. The wick suddenly burst into flame in mid-air and Claudia caught it effortlessly and tossed it back up into the air, adding it in with the other two torches she juggled.
People began to gather around, watching her juggle and spin the torches as she walked along the narrow handrail of the boardwalk.
"Red hat," she said, juggling the torches. "Fetch me the unlabeled bottle from my backpack."
Obediently the man stooped down and drew the plastic bottle from her backpack and held it up to her.
Claudia rolled her eyes, "Lid!"
"Oh, right," he murmured as he unscrewed the lid and lifted it up to her.
She caught the torches, holding them in her right hand. Claudia bent down and wrapped her lips around the mouth of the bottle, closing her teeth around the threading. She stood up, letting the paraffin flow into her mouth. A few of the men in the crowd mumbled and snickered amongst themselves as she bent down again, placing the bottle into her impromptu assistant's hand.
Claudia lifted a torch to her mouth and spit out a geyser of flame into the air and the crowd let out a collective gasp. Some snapped pictures with their camera phones, She turned her back to the crowd and extinguished the torch with her mouth then leaned backward, letting it fall from her lips to the boardwalk.
The members of the crowd began dropping money into her hat as she extinguished the second torch and dropped it beside the first.
She turned back to face the crowd, reaching for the bottle of paraffin.
The man in the red cap obligingly handed it to her and she smirked.
"Now," she said quietly. "Who wants to see something special?"
A few people in the back shouted and she took a sip from the bottle and looked towards the sky, holding the torch inches from her mouth.
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. With a heavy breath she spit out the wax into the air in a massive burst of flame. The crowd murmured in awe as the fireball formed into a huge fiery bird. Claudia heard the clicking of shutters from the phones in the crowd. The phoenix's wings flapped three times and it vanished into the air. The crowd gasped and cheered, talking excitedly amongst themselves as they began overflowing Claudia's black derby hat with money.
Claudia carefully extinguished the torch and lazily slumped down from the handrail. The people closed in around her asking questions.
"Magic," was all she could muster as she began sluggishly putting away her supplies.
"That was amazing!" They exclaimed.
"How did you do it?" They asked.
She just nodded and replied, "Thanks."
She didn't particularly enjoy the attention, but the job relied on it and fire-eating and juggling were her only real skills.
Gradually the crowd dispersed save for a single figure that had been hidden in the back of the crowd. As Claudia began stuffing the cash and change into her pockets she looked up to see the small woman standing silently before her with both hands held behind her back.
Claudia placed the hat on her head and slung her backpack over her shoulder.
"The show is over," she said.
The woman smiled and nodded.
She slipped her arm through the left strap of her backpack and started up the boardwalk.
"I thought you were very good!" The woman shouted, following after her.
"Yeah, thanks," Claudia answered nonchalantly.
She paused for a moment, "I have no money to give you. I would like to. Could I perhaps buy your lunch?"
Claudia stopped and looked over the girl. On her feet were wingtip shoes. Black slacks. A black blazer. A white dress shirt with a red tie. Her light brown hair was tied back and held in place by a small red band that matched her tie.
Claudia raise her eyebrow, "Why are you dressed like that? Are you a mortician?"
Instantly the woman's large brown eyes turned towards the ground, "Oh . . no," she replied. "I . . . am a matador."
Claudia giggled, "Fair enough. I don't like to talk about my work either."
"But why?" The woman asked, speaking in clearly enunciated words. "What you do is amazing and impressive. You have such skilled hands and presence."
Claudia shrugged as they began to walk up the boardwalk together.
"When you tell someone you're a fire eater they assume you're some kind of circus freak or carnie and most people have all kinds of negative connotations with those kinds of people. I normally just say I'm a performance artist," she said.
The woman nodded as she walked beside Claudia, her arms held behind her back.
There was something strange about her, even to Claudia, who was found strange my most. Perhaps it was the clothes the woman wore. Perhaps it was the way that she spoke. Maybe it was the way she constantly looked about as if everything she saw was something new and foreign to her.
It may have been a combination of things, although despite her eccentricity she seemed to be an affable person and Claudia found herself far less distrustful of her than she would be of the ordinary stranger.
They spent lunch together at a nearby bistro, talking with each other over a variety of subjects. The woman seemed to be an unending font of knowledge with keen grasps on subjects Claudia could never comprehend. As they continued to chat the woman revealed her incredible knowledge of anatomy and the human condition, as well as psychology, which was quite strange for a supposed matador.
"So," Claudia finally asked, the question was beginning to irritate her. "What's your name anyway? We've been sitting here talking for hours and you still haven't told me your name."
The woman shifted in her seat and looked away, turning her eyes to the ground.
"My . . . name?" She asked, hiding her discomfort.
"Yeah, your name," Claudia reiterated "Thing on your birth certificate. What your parents called you. What your friends and co-workers call you. That thing."
Claudia took a puff from her cigarette, her eyes focused on the woman as she stared at the ground.
"Theresa Sebben," she finally answered quietly.
Claudia smirked, "So you have a name after all."
Theresa nodded.
Suddenly Theresa's cell phone rang and she pulled it from her front pocket. She looked down at the screen on the front and sighed lightly.
Claudia stood up and lifted her arms above her head, stretching out her limbs and back.
Theresa flipped open her phone and held it to her ear, "Yes?"
"Some way of answering the phone you got there, Seven. What're you too good for hello?" The man on the other end asked.
Claudia wandered idly about the patio, walking out to the edge of the sidewalk, paying no attention to Theresa's phone conversation. She took a drag from her cigarette and flicked the butt into the street. She turned back to see Theresa hunched over in her seat, talking on her phone.
"Hello Eleven," she said loudly, mockingly.
"That's better, not great, but better," the man said. "Are you with her now?"
"I am. She is very . . cocky. Bold. A brash, overzealous youth. She's no Mr. Incomparable but she's a diamond in the rough," Theresa said, glancing back at Claudia balancing herself on the edge of the pavement
"Is that so? Did she do anything interesting?" He asked.
"She did. A phoenix. It was quite impressive, possibly some sort of magic trick but I could not find the trick." She said, looking down at the silver watch clasped around her left wrist.
"Yeah, but you ain't as bright as me," the man said. "Anyway-"
"Fuck you too, Eleven!" Theresa interrupted with a growl before ending the call.
Claudia chuckled to herself as the neighboring patrons of the bistro stared at Theresa for a few moments before turning their attention back to their meals. Theresa shoved her phone back into the front pocket of her blazer, her eyebrows furrowed in anger.
Claudia returned to her seat and said "What in the fuck was that all about?"
Theresa slouched in her seat, folding her arms across her chest, "Work."
"I take it you don't get along well with your bosses. Wait, who's the boss of a matador? The bull?"
Theresa smiled softly, "No, I am the bull's boss. It was my . . . agent. The things he says make me so angry. I am convinced he is trying to drive me mad with rage."
Claudia smirked, "I know what you mean, these fucking people I perform for . . ."