“Gosh, really? Well then, I’d better wash up too.” Amandine tugged off her soiled dress and skipped to the shower. She laughed when the water came shooting down onto her head; it was the first hot shower she had had in years. “What was I talking about before?”
“Nevermind that.” Caroline tied her headscarf over her fresh bandages. “I want you to tell me more about this René.”
Caroline and Amandine found René, Coronado, and Sangria in the common room surrounded by rebels. The fighters were men and women of all ages, some in NAR uniforms and some in civilian clothes. They were all watching Coronado with great amusement while he did card tricks.
“Nothing sneaky now. See?” The illusionist pushed back his sleeves and patted the table, making a deck of cards appear beneath his hand. “You, madam. Pick a card from any place in the deck, please. That's right, show it to your friends.”
He shuffled the rest of the deck several times while she presented the queen of clubs.
“Put it back anywhere in the deck. Make sure it’s even with the others and doesn’t stick out.”
She did so nervously.
He shuffled the deck one last time, revealing his top card, the ace of spades. Coronado showed it to everyone, shaking his head with disappointment. “That's not it, is it? Hmm, I seem to have done something wrong.” He noticed Amandine and Caroline across the room with theatrical relief. “Cleo, I need your help. I've misplaced my card. Which one have you got on you?”
“I haven't got any cards,” she answered suspiciously. “I just got here.”
“Which one have you got in your pocket?”
Cleo reached in, withdrew the queen of clubs, and her face went slack with surprise. Everyone laughed and clapped.
“Ah, that's nothing.” Coronado made the cards vanish into his open palm. “You should see Master René, conjurer of flames, throw fire across the room.”
He put a cigarette in his mouth, held his hands open, and waited for René to take his cue. Unaccustomed to being the center of attention, René momentarily forgot what he was supposed to do.
“Easy now. Just a little one!” Coronado braced himself. With a feeble flourish, René wiggled his fingers, and the cigarette in his mouth flared. There was more laughter and applause from their delighted audience.
“Or—” Coronado shouted over the noise, trying to regain everyone's attention. “Or maybe you prefer something more exotic? Watch as Miss Sangria, the world-famous Love Knot, ties herself into a bow!”
Sangria loosened herself up with a quick stretch. She performed a handstand on the table and slowly bent until she sat on her own head. The crowd murmured in amazement when she positioned her arms and legs to resemble a bowtie, then burst into applause when she sprang upright into a finishing pose.
“Circus-people.” Caroline huffed impatiently, but a half-smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Alright, that's enough! Listen to me now.”
Sangria rolled off the table, and everyone turned to face their leader.
“I wanted to thank you personally for safeguarding my daughter,” Caroline said to the newcomers, but loud enough for everyone to hear. “I intended for one of my own agents to look after her until I was free again, but for reasons unknown, he never found her. Since we arrived, Amandine has done nothing but tell me what good you have done. How special you are to her.” She looked squarely at René. “I would like it known that these people are friends of the movement. They are to be extended the same treatment and hospitality as our comrades.”
“Madame Cleo is too kind.” Coronado gave an appreciative bow.
“Cleo!” Just then, a fighter came running in from the entrance, breathless from excitement and his jog across the bunker. “Boss, the rest of the convoy has returned. Tall-Me is here!”
A thrilled murmur went through the room. It appeared that many of those present had never seen Tall-Me before either. The three performers exchanged a glance before deciding to follow Caroline and Amandine through the garage.
“I take it Tall-Me doesn't visit often,” Sangria said.
“I've spent a lot of time here with my crew. Tall-Me's only been here once while I was incarcerated.” Caroline lifted her chin a little higher. “I'll be seeing him for the first time as well.”
“So he exists after all,” Coronado mused.
Amandine was still confused. “Maman, I thought Cleo was second to Tall-Me. How can it be that you don't know who he is either?”
Caroline quickened her pace and considered the best way to explain. Never being one for words, she eventually gave up. “I know who he is,” she said as they walked out into the night. “And so do you.”
Though the remaining fighters and prisoners spilled down from the trucks to join the growing throng, there was no mistaking who their leader was when Tall-Me emerged at last. He was not remarkably tall as his name implied, but his bearing still demanded respect. His black uniform was adorned with the kraken, the symbol of the NAR Navy, and he wore a red scarf, a bandolier across his shoulder, and a Mauser C96 in his belt holster. His graying brown hair and beard were neatly trimmed around his hard, serious face.
The moment he laid eyes on Caroline, they moved towards each other, and she fell into his arms. To Amandine's shock, he kissed her intensely.
“Oh, Caroline of mine, what have they done to you?” he said in a gruff, pained voice. “Your beautiful eye! Your lovely dark hair.” He stroked her head and gently kissed her bandaged face again.
Amandine's throat locked. She only knew one person who used that pet name, pronouncing Caroline's name the American way.
Tall-Me broke away from Caroline to address everyone present. “Brothers and sisters, I am pleased to announce that despite outside complications, our endeavor tonight was a complete success!” The rebels cheered, and Tall-Me continued once they quieted. “Every condemned patriot in that procession was liberated and free from serious harm. Soon, every one of them can return to their families. Thanks to your bravery and sacrifice, there will be no executions at the Freedom Festival tonight!”
There was applause as the last freed rebels were unshackled and ushered inside to be doctored, cleaned, and fed. Tall-Me motioned everyone towards the bunker, but Caroline stayed rooted to the spot, waiting for her daughter to come forward.
In a voice smaller than a whisper, Amandine breathed a single word. “Dad?”
Tall-Me shot a look to Caroline. She closed her eye and nodded once. “Amandine?” Will Stewart’s voice cracked.
He hurried to his daughter. At first he hesitated, unsure if his three-year absence had put up a barrier of resentment from the young woman that now stood before him. Slowly, he reached out. She let him hold her chin and touch the blue stitches over her swollen brow.
“My God,” he choked. He kept shaking his head, struck dumb by the hundreds of questions that tried to escape all at once. Finally, he managed, “Did you use a star stitch? On your face?”
“I thought it would look pretty.” Amandine sniffled loudly. “Hurt like the dickens, though.”
“My Button!” Will wrapped her fiercely in a tight embrace. “You're so tall! You're all grown up!” He released her to look her over again. “You're already a woman!” He gathered up both Amandine and Caroline together, squeezing them close. “My beautiful ladies, how I've missed you! I have so much to ask you! To tell you!”
Amandine buried her face in his jacket and sobbed, “Daddy, I thought you were dead!”
He let out a remorseful sigh and kissed the top of her head. “I know, Button. I’m so sorry. I wanted to tell you both everything. I wanted to come home to you right away, but you were safer as long as you knew nothing. It’s such a long, difficult story.”
The three of them stood close, arms wrapped around each other. Meanwhile René, Coronado, and Sangria lingered some distance away, astonished by the runion they had just witnessed.
“Have you been waiting here since your mother was arrested?” Will asked.
&nb
sp; Amandine shook her head. “I didn't know what to do when they took her. I thought that I'd better go get her, but I needed some money, so I sold the house—”
“You sold the house?” Will interjected in shock.
She nodded. “I sold it to the government. To an administrator. They wanted a new headquarters in town, so I took their cash, packed my suitcase, and left on my bike. I got hit by a truck and lost the bike as soon as I got to Pearisville, though.”
Her report deviated so far from the plan that Will was speechless with outrage. It gave Amandine a strange mixture of happiness and concern to see him that way, and she giggled nervously before she continued. “I didn’t want to spend the house-money on travel expenses—”
“What did you want to spend it on?” Will interrupted. “Amandine, what were you thinking, walking across the country with a pocketful of cash? You’re extremely lucky you didn’t get robbed or violated on the road!”
“It was a bit more than a pocketful,” she admitted, holding her coat open and peeling back the lining to show the stacks of bills tacked inside. Sangria, René, and Coronado gawked at her hidden fortune. “I was thinking I’d hire a lawyer to work on an appeal. If I couldn’t do that, then I thought I’d pay a guard to leave a door unlocked or something.”
“You were going to bribe a guard?” her father repeated. “To release Cleo?”
“I had no idea she was Cleo!” Amandine closed up her coat. “I didn’t even know she was with the resistance. I only thought she had a boyfriend at the storehouse or something.”
Caroline sniffed and turned her head away in embarrassment.
“As I was saying, I didn't want to spend the house-money on my travel expenses, so I paid a visit to White's Bakery. Remember the Whites back home? Well, this was his cousin's store. Anyway, they gave me a job wrapping packages, and that's how I met René.”
She beckoned to him, and he took a faltering step forward. René had never felt so vulnerable as when he was being stared down by the fearsome Tall-Me and Cleo.
“René took a fancy to me and invited me to travel to Nieuwestad with his family.”
“Took a fancy?” As Will’s anger grew, so did the southern accent he tried to conceal.
“So I wouldn't travel alone,” Amandine reasoned. “They gave me a job, and I was treated very well.”
Caroline tapped her husband's arm. “He's with a traveling show.”
“A traveling—?” Will couldn't believe what he was hearing. He whirled on the last remaining person who lingered outside, fussing over a crushed Interceptor. “Where the hell were you?”
Inquestor Carver flinched when everyone turned on him. “Me? I was trying to keep up with her and maintain my cover and run my radio show! I tried to talk to her in private many times. Hell, I even took a huge risk and slipped her a note, but her friend stole it and stuffed it in her bosom!” He took a birdcage from his passenger’s seat, threw it back into Coronado’s cab, and pointed at Sangria. “That bosom right there, in fact!”
“That’s the Inquestor!” Amandine jumped behind her father. “He’s followed us!”
“Yes, I know.” Will crossed his arms. “That’s Marcus.”
“Marcus? Radio show?” Coronado snapped and sparks popped from his fingertips. “Don't tell me... you're Marc Antony.”
“Guilty as charged.” Carver trotted over and enthusiastically shook Coronado's hand. “It's not often I get to meet a fan, what with my day job and all.”
“This is too much to absorb.” Amandine broke away from her parents to stand by her friends. “You're Tall-Me and Cleo. The Inquestor is actually Marc Antony, sent by you to look after me?”
“Now she gets it.” Carver dusted his gloves and rolled his singed white sleeves up to the elbow. “I'm Marcus Carver. Ruthless inquestor by day, pirate radio disc jockey by night, all-American patriot every time in between.”
“He was supposed to fetch you,” Will said. “I can’t wait to hear why he didn’t.”
Amandine felt upset and very foolish. “But he was the one who arrested maman!” She pointed an accusing finger at him. “I saw him do it!”
“I had a tail follow me straight to the house after my last big raid,” Caroline explained. “Fortunately, Marcus was nearby, and he got me before they showed up with reinforcements.”
“I love the way you say my name, boss,” Carver said affectionately. “I’ve missed hearing you say it so badly. ‘Mahr-koose.’ It's so adorable.”
Will glared at the Inquestor for his audacity, but Caroline was flattered. She bit her lip, and her headscarf hid some of the blush in her cheeks.
“I had to arrest her,” Carver went on. “I had to be the one to do it. That way, I could take her alive and conveniently overlook you, Miss Amandine.”
“But you came back for me?” the girl asked warily.
“I did. Heard you sold the house, looked into who bought it, and learned about this crooked administrator.”
“Graft?” Amandine perked. “He seemed nice.”
“He was awful, really. A real sicko. He took ladies from replacement homes and used them to death. He was up to four this year alone, so I greased him.”
“How did you change that story for the Chief Inquestor?” Caroline asked him.
“Easy. My report said Graft was liberating rebel-linked girls from replacement homes on the sly, and I used his purchase of the Stewart estate and failure to apprehend Amandine as proof.”
Carver obviously yearned for Caroline’s approval, so it was no surprise when her single nod elicited a tiny squeal of joy out of him.
“Then what happened?” Will demanded, trying to bring Carver’s focus from his wife to the matter at hand. “Why didn't you get Amandine?”
Carver rolled his eyes and his posture went slack. “‘Grab her, Carver! Just get the girl, Carver!’” he mimicked. “I've been hearing that for months! I'll tell you why I didn't 'just grab her.' I had a tail. They were watching me so closely, they were literally sitting in my backseat, taking notes.”
He spoke energetically, animating his story with wild gestures. “I really needed to clean out the station in Cold River before I set off after her, but I couldn’t resist doing a broadcast first. Next, I had to go to the police station to file my report on the administrator. Just as I’m trying to sweet-talk the receptionist into refilling my thermos for the road, this police captain tells me that he’s honored by my presence and has a bunch of guys interested in the academy. He wanted me to take them along, show them the ropes. I made up a thousand and one excuses, but he finally called up my other boss to get his approval.”
“Your other boss?” Amandine asked.
“The Chief Inquestor in Nieuwestad, name of Luther Everild,” Carver nodded. “So now I had these police rookies on me, and the only car game they knew was twenty questions. 'Where are we going, Inquestor? Who are we after, Inquestor? When are we gonna shoot some rebels?'” Speaking to Will, he pointed to the trio beside him. “I followed the trail of cheese-sandwich crumbs and caught up with her the very next day. Found out she got a job making costumes for these guys in a traveling show, so I let my tagalongs conduct a search. It got some more of their frustration out of their system, and I got a chance to speak with Amandine.”
“'Speak with Amandine,'” Sangria scoffed. “Lay it on thick with me, you mean.”
Carver tried to act offended, but he grinned despite himself. “You were laying it on pretty thick yourself, snatching up my personal correspondence to Miss Stewart and stuffing it in your underwear.”
“Then what happened?” Caroline pressed, eager to hear the rest.
“I tried mentioning your name to see if she'd pick up on that,” he continued. “I’m afraid she got the wrong impression. Then I thought I'd try a more direct approach. I went to one of their shows and asked Amandine to come along quietly. I dropped hints left and right. I even used my radio voice. That always gets the ladies, but she only had eyes for the fire-throwing moron over
there. She wasn’t having any of it.”
Amandine thought back to that conversation and pieces of the puzzle began falling into place.
“Later that night, I thought I had given the blues the slip, but one of them followed me out to where I was having coffee with a nice girl. He was so mad about my light-handed approach that he scared my date off with his talk of threatening to shoot the circus-people himself. I had to use my gun.”
He reached for his weapon. It was usually fastened into a leather holster over his jacket, but he had forgotten that it was gone until René pulled the missing pistol from his belt. Carver grimaced at the smudges and wiped it vigorously with his handkerchief.
“You couldn’t shoot the blue officer,” Caroline said flatly. “You’re the worst shot in the country. How you’ve managed to avoid shooting yourself yet is a mystery.”
“Impossible,” Will cut in. “He’s a high officer. The NAR requires extensive firearms training for all recruits, and he would have had to pass rather difficult tests before he could wear the black uniform.”
“She's right, though.” Once he was satisfied with the way his 1911 cleaned up, Carver gave it a single spin. “Couldn't hit a horse if I was riding it, so I brained the errant officer with the back end of my 45.”
“And how exactly did you explain that one to the Chief?” Caroline asked again.
“With every inquestor’s most favorite justification. Insubordination,” he replied fiendishly. “Anyway, where was I?”
To René’s surprise, Carver tossed the gun back to him.
“Right. I lost the caravan for awhile after that. They didn't move very fast, but they moved all over the place. I followed the posters and checked in at my stations when I could shake the last two surviving officers. I tried leaving even more clues in the broadcasts in case she was listening.”
“The officers stayed with you even after you killed their partner?” Caroline asked with surprise.
Carver nodded. “And they were the model of perfect behavior. No more chattering, no more suggestions at what I ought to do. They were loyal, obedient, and just slobbering for my endorsement.”
Threadbare- The Traveling Show Page 23