By Mark Connelly
When Karen Loeb was sixteen, she got a summer job serving pizza at the amusement park on the Jersey shore. The place was busy, and the tips were good. Even better was the chance to meet adults who were not parents or teachers. Her favorites were the entertainers who played the mainstage and stopped by for a slice between shows. She liked the singers best, but it was the juggler who changed her life.
He stopped in with an acrobat one afternoon. The two had not seen each other in a few years and were eager to catch up.
“I caught your act last night,” the acrobat said. “The rain was terrible yesterday. Wet stage trip you up? I almost fell.”
“Hmm?”
“Last night, you slipped and dropped the Indian clubs. Must have been a bummer. You got flustered, but man you recovered fast enough.”
The juggler smiled. “All part of the act. Learned that in St. Louis.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look.” Slipping three tennis balls from his shoulder bag, he began juggling. “OK, I start with three, then add four, and eventually five, right?” he said, barely paying attention to the balls spinning over the table. “Muscle memory. Looks effortless, right? Then I switch to the clubs, then the meat cleavers, and finish with the flaming torches. By the end of the show I’d get polite applause. Owners, managers, nod and think, OK the kid’s got some talent. Nothing special. Well, in St. Louis, I did slip, dumped the clubs all over the stage. People gasped. A few laughed. It was embarrassing. I had to scramble and pick them up, apologise, and start over. People were shaking their heads and chuckling. But when I began tossing meat cleavers and people saw those shiny metal blades dazzling in the light right over my head, they were on the edge of their seats. When I lit the torches and began juggling, I dodged around a bit to make it look tough. The audience was breathless. The applause that night was deafening. People wanted to take pictures and get autographs. Owners and managers were beaming. I got headline bookings after that.
“I learned a big lesson. You can’t be too good. When I was flawless, it looked too easy. See we’re sitting here talking, and I bet you don’t even see the balls anymore. You take it for granted. The balls become invisible. Because there is no effort, no mistake. You don’t get a sense of how difficult it is. You slip up now and then, people realise just how hard it is, how special you really are.”
***
Years later when Karen Loeb became a gifted surgeon she remembered to lose a patient now and then to make sure her skills would never be taken for granted.
About the Author
Mark Connelly
Mark Connelly’s fiction has appeared in Peregrine Journal, Killer Nashville, Möbius Blvd, Indiana Review, Bristol Noir, The Berlin Review, Third Wednesday, Altered Reality, Cream City Review, Cerasus Magazine, and 34th Parallel.
In 2005 Texas Review Press published his novella Fifteen Minutes, which received the Clay Reynolds Prize.
Our weekly podcast features the stories from recently published issues, often narrated by the authors themselves.
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