This Circus is Always on Fire!
Part Two: We’re Here to Collaboratively Discuss Smoke.
Zara sighed and glanced down.
Yes — they were still right there.
Those leaky, broken buckets were still strewn on the ground, just under Zara’s feet. As she pondered if anything genuinely useful might be done, she remembered.
Zara remembered The Meeting.
To be fair, it had not been called “The Meeting” at the time. When that conversation happened, it had come on the heels of an especially nasty run-in with one circus goer, three villages ago now, who had complained mightily about just how thick the smoke had become by the circus’ fifth and final performance.
Somehow, that industrious guest had even managed to bypass the many, many levels of human and other circus stop-gap so carefully in place, leaving them with direct, uncomfortable access to …
The Ringmaster.
Ever a leader of — and for — the people, The Ringmaster, of course, graciously heard this circus goer’s gripes and groans with the deep care and compassion befitting such a leader. They assured the befuddled, coughing guest that yes, something would definitely be done, and right away. The swift and subsequent firing of the second Deputy Director who may have played some role in the circus goer’s arrival at The Ringmaster’s tent surely had no real connection to just how deeply, genuinely concerned The Ringmaster was when hearing the guest’s criticisms.
There was an Open Tent Door Policy in Place, after all.
Shortly after the exhausted team arrived in the next village, The Ringmaster implemented one of their most cherished strategies. This iteration was coined the Emergency Cross-Functional Fire Response and Smoke Mitigation Alignment Convening. Or ECFFRSMAC, to simplify things, as The Ringmaster prided themselves on the straightforward, simple way they so excellently managed all this complexity.
When the team convened, The Ringmaster insisted it was not merely a meeting. Instead, it was a collaborative opportunity to center shared learnings across the circus ecosystem, particularly around smoke and its impact on The Circus’ closely guarded “reputation.”
Funny … No mention of the circus goer’s concerns entered the conversation. But no matter — Russell dutifully set aside his clipboard so he could dole out the new ECFFRSMAC binders, and the collaborative opportunity was underway.
The Ringmaster opened with a customary brief grounding statement.
That lasted forty-seven minutes.
Russell gave it a standing ovation.
By its end, three of the acrobats had quietly darned two sleeves, one pant leg, and patched a large, smoking hole near the left shoulder of Gerald’s costume. Gerald was one of the longest-tenured acrobats of the troupe and, though worn out, had nonetheless recently begun describing himself as “crispy but committed.”
Then, at last, The Ringmaster invited “reflections.”
Zara raised one small, gloved hand.
The tent went quiet.
Zara knew their attention was not because anyone was especially eager to hear from her, mind you. Over time and the travails of circus travel, much of the troupe had come to view Zara as somewhat, arguably even irritatingly, single-minded. Many talked of it, even, in smaller groups, and often. To hear it told, among Zara’s other, vaguely curious qualities? The girl was forever bringing up …
Fire.
Smoke.
Embers.
Combustion.
Flammable materials.
Evacuation routes.
Etc.
And so on.
Over.
And over,
And then over, again.
Only Gerald seemed to have considered that this might have something to do with Zara’s role as … Well. Fire Marshal.
Also because it was, in fact, fire.
“Are we going to talk about the fire?” Zara asked.
“We’re here,” The Ringmaster replied, “primarily to collaboratively address issues of smoke mitigation.”
(Part three, continuing soon …)