A Cold Blue Call

by A. J. Downey

  “Would have liked to, but you do all this shit on pure emotion.”

  I laughed and said, “It was a spur-of-the-moment decision. It felt right, like the pieces were all there and fell right into place and I just popped the question. I guess that’s where the whole phrase comes from.” I shook my head. “And I gotta say, you’re taking this way better than I expected you to.”

  “Bro, I love you, and I know I don’t say it enough or whatever, but I can see the way you look at her and the way she looks at you. I guess it’s a good thing I found Lys, or Lys found me, or whatever, because I get it now. I see the same thing we got in you guys and at the end of the day, I just want my twin to be as happy as I am. I mean, are you?”

  “Happy?” I asked. He nodded, worry wrinkling his forehead. I smiled and said, “Deliriously, man.”

  “Shit, then that’s all that really matters. We have to get that shit where we can find it, sometimes we gotta make it what it is. We only got one life so we need to do our damnedest to live it right and leave the world better than we found it.” He eyed me and added, “You’re still whooping my ass on that front, Mr. Paramedic.”

  I smiled and shook my head, “You do a damn fine job yourself on that front, protector of the weak, defender of justice.”

  “Yeah, I’m a regular Captain fuckin’ America,” he said sarcastically and I laughed. “Seriously.” The moment sobered and I looked my brother in the eye. I saw the fierce pride, deep love, and undercurrent of joy there and it warmed my soul. “I’m proud of you, Angel, and I’m happy for you, too.”

  “Thanks, G. You don’t know what that means to me.”

  “Yeah, well, whatever,” he said, shifting uncomfortably. My twin had never been awesome at his feelings, and today was no exception. Still, since finding Lys, he’d been doing a shitload better than he ever had before. His woman was healing parts of him that he never would have admitted in a million years were broken.

  Claire did the same for me, and I was glad he could see that, because she wasn’t going anywhere and I wasn’t either. Things were changing for us, but they were changing in the best ways. I couldn’t wait for what was to come.

  It was a whirlwind week after that. Claire and I found ourselves ships passing in the night for the next few days. I was working; she was too. Planning, getting people together to clear out the space at the gym, ordering paint, talking with her circus people, and putting together work parties for the coming weekend. I was proud of her. It was like things had clicked and she was back.

  It felt tenuous, though. Fragile. Like a blade that’d been freshly tempered. You didn’t know if one misplaced strike was going to make it shatter or if it would hold true until the blow came. I worried, but I enjoyed her enthusiasm and excitement, her new lease on life.

  We spoke in low and earnest tones at night, her head on my chest or shoulder, cuddled close in the dark. She whispered her secret fears and her close-kept secrets and it was everything. It was beautiful, how she shared with me, and I let her in, too. For the first time, I talked about the job, the heartbreaking calls as much as the triumphant ones. She listened and took some of the burden and we both found ourselves doing better. Healthier, for our midnight talks.

  “What do you think they’ll say?” she asked me quietly one night and I could tell by the lift of her hand, she was staring at her ringed finger. We hadn’t told anyone other than my twin of our engagement, not yet, we planned on announcing it the next day during the first big work party at the gym. It would be the first time that both her world and mine collided. The guys and girls from the club and her circus people would all be under one roof, united in a common goal to make my woman’s newest dream and ambition come true.

  “Doesn’t matter,” I told her truthfully. “I know I’m pulling a page out of my twin’s playbook, and I probably sound like a selfish asshole, but they can either get on board and be happy, or fuck off, for all I care.”

  She laughed and said, “I don’t know, that sounds awfully harsh, but at the same time, I can see where you’re coming from. Especially after…” she trailed off. She didn’t need to say her brother’s name. I could tell it still hurt and it would for a long time to come. I cuddled her close and kissed her forehead.

  “I have to hope he’ll come around, baby.”

  “Carter can be stubborn,” she murmured. I smiled to myself in spite of the situation.

  “You guys are a lot alike that way,” I murmured and she laughed and lightly slapped my chest.

  “I wish I could argue the point, but I really can’t,” she said softly.

  I heaved a big sigh. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like being so at odds with my flesh and blood like she was with her older brother right now.

  “I’ll be glad for this weekend,” she murmured. “I’ve done what I can with getting things moved, but getting the rest of the heavy stuff out of there and the walls started, the silks hung… it’ll feel like a real start, you know?”

  “I agree,” I murmured.

  “A real start to our future,” she said.

  “I’m proud of you, baby.”

  “Yeah?” she asked.

  “Yeah. You were handed a fuck-ton of lemons and made some fabulous lemonade.”

  “Well, I don’t know about that,” she said, laughing. “I can’t say so unless I start turning a profit and the gym picks up business.”

  “I think everything is going to turn out great,” I said.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. I think you’re due some good things for a while.”

  “Hmm,” she hummed, a happy sound and cuddled close to me and I laughed into the dark.

  “You’re something else, you know that?” I asked.

  “So are you,” she whispered. “So are you.”

  28

  Claire…

  “Today is the first day of the rest of your life,” I told my reflection.

  “What?” Angel called from the kitchen. I smiled, it was like he didn’t want to miss a thing.

  “Nothing,” I called back a little louder. I didn’t want him to think I was silly or stupid for the daily affirmations I had begun to tell myself. I was trying to think positive, which was a lot harder to do than it sounded, especially with a thoroughly-poisoned mindset.

  “You about ready?” he called.

  “As I’ll ever be,” I said, coming away from the bathroom sink and stepping back out into the main floorplan of the houseboat.

  “You’re going to do great. Hell, I was amazed at what you got accomplished already.”

  “I said I would do most of it myself,” I said with a raised eyebrow. Really, I’d only broken down all the cardboard and packing materials that’d been piled up near the defunct weight equipment. I’d also gotten started on some of the painting, going as high as I could on the walls with the primer until the lift could be brought in to get all the way up. We had the lift for a couple of weeks; renting that thing had been one of the bigger expenditures by far, right along with the sprayer rentals for the painting.

  There would be at least two, maybe three work parties needed to get everything accomplished. Today was just the first.

  We took a car to the gym, mostly because I had two big boxes of silks that I’d had delivered to the house so I could be sure to get them. I took one while Angel took the other and we threaded our way through the gym to the back section I would be in. Already there were people assembled and introducing themselves to each other.

  “Hi, Thierry! Hey, Anya! Glad you could make it,” I greeted two of my Circus peeps as Angel and I set down our burdens of boxed silks.

  “Aleksi and Giada are on their way,” Thierry said as we kissed each other’s cheeks. I went to Anya and gave her the traditional European greeting as well, then went and hugged all of Angel’s club family who had arrived. Golden and Lys weren’t there yet, but Aly was, and Yale. Also, Poe, Driller, and Oz were there.

  “Whoa, can’t get this party started without us!” Skid
s cried from the doorway, and he and Reflash came through, with Backdraft, Lil, Youngblood, and Chrissy right behind them. The men each carried a ladder. Two short A-frames and two collapsible rigs; I couldn’t begin to guess at how high they went, but it looked like they went pretty high, which would be useful for getting primer on the walls while the lift was in use getting things up on the ceiling.

  “So, what’s the plan?” Youngblood asked.

  “The plan is to wait for us!” Aleksi called from the door as he and Giada came through.

  We greeted each other and I made introductions, and just as I was about to dole out orders, a larger-than-life voice boomed out, “The Queen has arrived! You all can bow down. Yes, yes, I accept your adulation!”

  I laughed and so did everyone else as Pasquale sauntered in, like he was walking the runway during fashion week, looking like Effie Trinket in the last Hunger Games movies in a drab grey, skin-tight jumpsuit, his bald head covered in a red bandana ‘Rosie the Riveter’ style. He had the cuffs of his coveralls rolled up above his work boots, which were paint-splattered and had seen better days. But as fabulous as he walked and looked, he also looked like he was ready to work, and that he was no stranger to it.

  It was wonderful. He was a contradiction all over the place and I loved it. Despite his work-ready attire, he still rocked a face plied with makeup ‒ done to ostentatious perfection as always. He came and gave me the traditional European greeting my circus people had.

  We went through more introductions, just in time to do it all over again when Golden, Lys, Manolo, Blaze, and finally Narcos, with his shy, quiet woman, Everleigh, always clinging to his arm, arrived.

  “Okay, I really think that’s everyone,” I declared, only to be stopped by a hearty, “Nope!”

  McGowan, Ringold, Reynolds, Jefferson, and Colt came through dressed in old sweats and apparently ready to help as well. I frowned slightly, “Not that I’m going to turn down the extra help, but I thought I was on my own for this.”

  McGowan chuckled. “Had to show you up somehow, didn’t I?”

  “More like our mammas raised us to clean up after our own damn selves,” Reynolds declared. “Have to say, you did pretty good knocking this pile down all by yourself.”

  “It was just a day or two of flattening cardboard and taking it out to the recycling dumpster.”

  “Well, I brought my truck to haul this shit down to the scrap yard,” Ringold declared.

  “I got my pickup out there too.” Youngblood jerked a thumb toward the three big roll-up bay doors on the other side of the space.

  “Good deal. Less trips, and you can keep the cash the scrap place gives you for the use of your truck and the trouble,” Ringold told him

  “Sounds good.” Youngblood gave a nod.

  “Right. With the doors up, it’s going to get pretty cold back here, so everyone might want to keep their jackets on. Circus people, watch yourselves. I don’t want you getting hurt with performances coming up.”

  Several of them exchanged sidelong glances, and I cocked my head, raising an eyebrow.

  “Guys?” I asked, leaving it open for someone to explain what those looks were for.

  Thierry spoke up, “We all quit.”

  “What?” I demanded sharply.

  “Right, you guys talk this out, we’re going to get started,” Skids declared. McGowan was already hitting the button to roll up the outside doors, cold air blasting through the space.

  “Make sure that door to the main space is shut, would yah?” he called out. Everleigh detached herself from Narcos’ arm and went to make sure the doors were closed. My circus people closed in around me.

  “You guys, you can’t quit. You’re here on work visas!”

  “It’s already done,” Giada said, waving a hand dismissively.

  “Most of us leave the end of the week,” Anya said.

  “Fourteen of us quit all together, the day we got the email from corporate stating Milo would remain director and you were no longer employed with the company. Most of us emailed notice back right then and there,” Thierry said.

  “But why?”

  “My darling girl, enough was enough,” Giada declared.

  “Milo is a tyrant,” Anya said. “If not you, then he would have moved on to any one of us. We couldn’t let that happen. It wasn’t right.”

  “More of us are coming, just some wanted to go to rehearsal today to say they quit as well.” Aleksi shrugged.

  I teared up and reached out and pulled all of them into a group hug. I didn’t know what to say. I was so absorbed; I didn’t even notice that Angel stood nearby in case I should need him. I was more than a little overwhelmed by the love and support.

  “Come, we have work to do, no?” Thierry asked with a grin, but his eyes were watering too.

  “Yeah, let’s see how far we can get.”

  The answer was, really far.

  We got the walls completely primed, the hardware bolted into the ceiling beams, and the silks hung by days’ end. The silks from the circus weren't among them; those were going to be returned to the prop room as surreptitiously as they been removed in the first place, by one of Aleksi's friends who hadn't quit ‒ yet. It would hardly be fair to my new employers to have stolen goods openly on display in their gym. The eight practice silks were all solid colors, mine were black shot through with traceries of silver, not as beautiful, but better for teaching; as long as I didn't wear black clothes, what my arms and legs were actually doing as I moved would show well against the silk for my students.

  The walls were still to be painted in a mural of the night sky, some chandeliers hung between the silks, mirrors put on the walls – jeez, there was still so much left to do! A lot of us were sitting on the cement floor, taking a break before we wrapped the silks in plastic to protect them from the paint that had to still go up, when McGowan and the other gym co-owners came through the doors carrying mats between them. They laid them out them under the silks.

  “What’s this?” I asked, smiling. “It’s still too early for mats, yet.”

  “We figured it was time for a little performance. We still have yet to see what you can do,” Colt said.

  “Oh, I don’t know…” I shook my head and Aleksi called me a liar in Russian. I scowled at him and shot back something about his mother.

  “Your accent is terrible and my mother is a good woman,” he said, laughing.

  “Fine,” I said. “Get over here and help me stretch.”

  The bay doors were closed but the high windows were open to vent the paint fumes from the primer. It was cold in here, and I was a little worried about not being able to warm up properly. We’d had cold nights at the circus, though, so I knew what to do to prevent injury.

  “Somebody needs to find music,” Giada said, and she was already scrolling through her phone.

  “Find something contemporary,” I said, my feet planted against Aleksi’s, hands in his as he pulled me over myself towards him gently. “Easy,” I told him and he eased off just a bit.

  “Contemporary…” Giada said, voice pondering.

  “As in ‘none of the performance music from the Night Circus’. I’ll be glad if I never have to listen to any of that again.”

  “How about Christina Perri’s ‘A Thousand Years’?” Aly asked, looking at her own phone’s screen.

  “I don’t think I know it,” I said, and she played a little bit of it.

  “Oh! I do know it, that’s a good one. Yes. That, please.”

  “Okay, how do I connect to your speaker thingie?” she asked Backdraft. He chuckled and went over to her.

  “It’s a Job Rocker, and open up your Bluetooth and find the list of devices to pair to.”

  “You know, that song goes well with the fourth act routine and we’re all here,” Thierry said and I thought about it.

  “The setup is close enough, we could do it if the ‘audience’ was over there.”

  “Grabbing more mats,” Aleksi said and got up, jo
gging out to the main gym, Thierry following him, and in no time we were as set up as we were going to be, everyone gathered on the mats to watch. A bunch of the guys were standing at the back, several cradling their women, and I fought not to giggle at how it reminded me of a bunch of first graders waiting for storytime, the way they sat. I think it was the blue mats.

  Angel came over to me and helped me to my feet with a hand down.

  “Be careful,” he murmured and I smiled up at him.

  “Always,” I promised.

  Excitement fizzed through me, the low-grade buzz of adrenaline taking hold, knowing I was about to perform. Really perform, not practice, not a one-off thing, but a real, choreographed set. And not just for a group of people paying to see me, but for people who, for all intents and purposes, had thrown all-in with me, declaring themselves family, treating me better than my own family had.

  I stood on my toes and planted a quick kiss against his lips as everyone took their positions. I was glad I’d worn a matching set of underwear today, because we were all pretty much going to need to strip down to them for this. I unzipped my jacket and handed it to Angel. He understood, we’d talked about my performing and the best ways to do it. If I kept my pants on, it would hinder the glide of the silks. You really needed just skin or a slicker nylon or pantyhose kind of material only. Athletic leggings worked, too, to keep the fabric from binding up. Skintight was best, or nothing at all. Since I didn’t have skintight, the black boy shorts and black sports bra I had on under my boat-neck tee would have to do.

  I kicked out of my shoes as I lifted my shirt over my head, and uncomfortable laughter broke out among the spectators.

  “Didn’t realize it was that kind of a show,” Driller joked, and I caught Thierry likewise stripping down to his black skintight boxer-briefs behind me. Everyone was stripping down to their most appropriate degree of dress for the parts they had to play. Thierry and Anya immediately started to climb their white silks while Giada and Aleksi stretched and practiced a few lifts off to the side, getting a feel for one another like they usually did.