Out of Time 01 - Out of Time

on the Tilt-A-Whirl, Elizabeth was ready for something a bit more sedate and forced Simon to choose their next destination.
    He balked. She cajoled. He relented.
    He suggested the cyclorama, not mentioning that the short line was the main appeal. Cylcoramas were shown in cylindrical rooms with the crowd seated in the middle. A large, movable painted canvas was stretched around the circle with sound and lighting effects used to heighten the drama. The Battle of the Marne was a spectacular recreation of one of WWI’s epic battles. Despite the antiquated effects, Elizabeth jumped in her seat when a miniature car crashed from a small platform. Thunderous explosions echoed from behind the walls and a thick smoke swirled overhead. It was frighteningly effective, perhaps too much so. The costly battle was still fresh in the minds of the world. When the lights went on, the small crowd was quiet and reflective. The somber Zeitgeist cast a pall on the day. Simon had the absurd feeling that things had somehow taken a turn for the worse. When they left Luna Park and headed back down toward the Bowery, he knew he was right.

Chapter Thirteen
    T he all-monkey orchestra at the Hippodrome was too good for Elizabeth to pass up. Or so she thought. After the depressing show at the cyclorama, she hoped something fun and silly would lift her mood.
    The performance consisted of fifty trained monkeys dressed in band uniforms playing miniature instruments. It was certainly silly, but not the fun she’d been hoping for. Maybe it was the color of her mood as she took her seat on the long wooden benches. Maybe she was trying too hard to regain the excitement of earlier in the day. But as the animals wriggled and jumped on the stage, she felt her mood growing darker. She tried to remind herself this was a different time, with different sets of morals. The notion of animal protection was still in its infancy. It wasn’t as though the creatures were being overtly abused, but the sight of them subjugated in such a ridiculous farce set her mind into a tailspin of judgments. The SPCA was hardly a blip on the radar, no one was going to look after them, and with shows throughout the day, there was no way they were treated properly. At best, they were no more than props. At worst, she didn’t want to think about.
    Simon took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. When the show ended, he led her silently out of the amphitheater.
    Had she been looking, but not really seeing? Now that the idea had been planted, everything she saw was cast in a disturbing light. Bonita’s Fighting Lions looked thin and haggard in their tiny cages. Before, the park patrons seemed merely excited. Now, they looked frenetic, jigging madly from one spot to another. Even the carousel horses seemed twisted and disturbed. But it was Wagner’s World Circus Side Show that was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
    Elizabeth shuddered when the barker paraded the freaks out for display. The Tattooed Man, the Spider Boy and the Wolfman. Simon muttered something about the obvious lack of any true lupine qualities. Elizabeth barely registered his remarks as Wagner brought out Pipo and Zipo, two microcephalics, or Pinheads as they were more commonly known. The crowd gasped in shock as the pair walked across the makeshift stage. Children hid behind their mothers, only to be encouraged to gawk at the poor couple.
    It was more than Elizabeth could bear, and she hurriedly slipped through the crowd. She had to get away from it all, and didn’t stop walking until she reached the edge of the Boardwalk. Black waves lumbered ashore in the distance, a dull roar in the background of the night. She leaned against the wooden railing and breathed in the salty, ocean air. Simon came up behind her, but she didn’t turn around.
    “God, this place is awful. I’m sorry I made you come,” she said. The sand close to the walkway glistened like pyrite.
    He leaned back against the railing. “It’s a different time.”
    Elizabeth mimicked his pose, turning back to face the park. The sun had set and thousands of fairy lights sparkled in the night. “It’s just a Potemkin village, isn’t it? A beautiful façade hiding a dark reality.”
    “Aren’t most things?”
    He sounded so resigned to it. Was this the world he lived in all the time? Never seeing the magic, only the man behind the curtain.
    “I guess so,” she said and pushed away from the railing and started back slowly toward the