He leapt onto the wire. The barn’s sloped roof offered him barely enough clearance to stand fully upright. He could feel cobwebs pulling at his hair, and he could smell the wetness of the exposed wood. If he’d wanted to, he could have reached out and touched the roof, but he didn’t. Salvo’s feet travelled steadily and without hesitation, and his balance was true. When he reached the middle of the wire he stopped and stood perfectly still. This was the first exercise he’d learned on the wire: the quest for immobility. He stood motionless, and gradually the barn began to recede from his eyes, and a calm radiated through his body. Outside, the branches of a willow tree brushed softly against the side of the barn.
Daniel came into the barn hours later, sent by Anna to tell Salvo to come in for dinner. At first he didn’t see his father, but he instantly knew that someone else was in the barn. He froze, preparing to run, and then he saw Salvo above him on the wire, motionless, his eyes closed. Daniel was unsure what he should do. He didn’t want to startle Salvo, perhaps causing him to fall, but on the other hand he needed to get his attention. He decided to wait it out, and as quietly as he could, he lowered himself to a seated position.
After many minutes, Daniel knew that Salvo wasn’t going to give this up any time soon. He rose and, in a voice that he intended to sound much calmer than it ended up being, called out to his elevated father. “Hello?” he said, instantly wishing he had thought of something better.
Salvo’s eyes snapped open. Much to Daniel’s relief, he didn’t fall. Salvo looked down at him and blinked. “Daniel?”
“It’s time to eat.”
“Yes. I will be there soon.”
Daniel nodded and moved to the door.
“Daniel.” When he turned around, Salvo was no longer on the wire. He stood at the edge of the hayloft.
“Yes?”
“Please say nothing of this to your mother. You are a good boy, and it would be a favour to me.”
Daniel’s heart leapt. He had never had a secret to keep before, and he felt privileged to be given one. “I won’t tell,” he squeaked.
“Thank you.” Salvo climbed down the hayloft’s wooden ladder and put his arm around the boy. Together they walked to the house.
Later, as they ate, Anna could not understand why the usually melancholy Daniel beamed with such joy. She resolved to ask Salvo if he knew anything of this mood swing, but her husband fell asleep immediately after eating, his snores evincing a deep sleep that she had not heard from him in a long time. By morning she had forgotten her question.
Salvo knew that he had not achieved immobility. He knew this because he knew that immobility was impossible, yet he felt that he had come as close as he ever had, and that was enough. He could now see that the previous eight years without the wire had been an illusion of happiness; only his family—their love for him and his for them—kept him from that knowledge.
During his near immobility he had envisioned the most daring, most elaborate, most fantastic wire trick the world would ever see. It had built itself before his very eyes, and though there was a part of him that wondered if it were technically possible to perform, Salvo believed that if it were possible, he would be the one to make it happen.
To this end he began to train in earnest. Anna rarely came into the barn, so he had little danger of his wire being detected. He elected to keep his intentions a secret for the time being. Salvo knew his wife was not looking to return to the wire.
He had not lost as many of his skills as he first suspected he might have. He was rusty, and those muscles not used on the ground needed reconditioning, but he made good progress and was confident he would be able to return to his previous form in a reasonable amount of time.
Salvo’s training was rigorous, far more intense than he had ever undergone at the hands of Tomas Skosa. He allowed himself no mercy and gave himself no room for error. If he were to succeed he would not only have to be perfect himself, he would have to be able to make others perfect.
So focused was he upon his training that he failed to notice the three sets of eyes that peered up at him through a crack in the wall at the rear of the barn. Daniel had suitably impressed upon Mika and Elsabeth the importance of complete silence, and when they had seen what their father was doing, their attention was so rapt that the possibility of sound was non-existent.
To the children, Salvo was performing the impossible on a continuing basis. As soon as he left the barn, they crept up into the hayloft and stared out at the wire, wishing they were brave enough to venture out onto it, wishing they were like their father. They held for him a reverence they had never known before; they had always emulated Anna while at play, unknowingly admiring her strength and clarity, thinking their father to be weak and indecisive.
Eventually, Daniel worked up the nerve to step onto the wire. “I’m not scared,” he said.
“Go out there, then,” Mika said. Both she and Elsabeth knew he was lying.
“Fine.” Daniel stood at the edge, then focused his eyes on the end of the wire like he’d seen Salvo do. He took a step, feeling the wire under his feet for the first time. His balance held.
Mika grabbed her sister’s hand, too frightened to speak, too excited not to. “He’s doing it,” she whispered. It was fantastic.
Elsabeth’s mouth dropped open, but she said nothing. He’s brave, she thought. I wonder why I’m not that brave. Maybe he can make me brave.
Daniel took two more steps—slowly, carefully—then, like someone pulling a cloth out from under a set table, the wire was gone from under him, and he was falling. Just as he realized he was falling he hit the ground, his feet first, then his back, then his head. For a moment his vision blurred, red flooding his eyes, and he felt disoriented, like being dizzy in both directions at once, and his head hurt. He tried to stand and found he could, and he saw his sisters standing in front of him, worry on their faces.
“Daniel? Are you okay?” Mika tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder.
“We’re going to be in trouble,” Elsabeth said.
“No we’re not. Only if you tell.”
“I’m not going to tell.”
“Are you okay, Daniel?”
For a minute Daniel didn’t answer them. His hand rose to touch the spot of his head that hurt, and when it lowered there was no blood on it. He tested his movement and found that he was all right.
“Daniel?”
He smiled. “I’m fine. I’m going to try again.” He climbed the ladder and stood at the edge of the wire, about to step on it again. A sharp, searing pain lanced through his temple and he stepped back, unsure of where he was.
“Maybe we should stop for today,” Elsabeth suggested.
Daniel nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“We’ll try again tomorrow?” Mika’s eyes were glued to the wire.
“Sure. Tomorrow.”
They crept out of the barn and into the house, watching very closely to make sure that neither of their parents saw them, especially their mother. They had heard her speak of the high wire before, and although she never said as much, her voice betrayed a tone of dislike that they easily picked up on.
That night, Daniel’s head ached so badly he thought he was going to die, and he threw up twice. The next day he didn’t throw up, but his head still hurt. Anna kept him home from school for three days; she attributed his symptoms to a flu. It was almost a week before he felt well enough to even think about the wire again.
In the spring of 1957 the Fisher-Fielding Circus Company would again decide between two cousins. Martin Fisher-Fielding had long known that he did not have the support of many of the Respectables. They identified him with his uncle, an association Martin was proud of and had done nothing to discourage. Some of the Respectables, however, still blamed Cole for the fire and its subsequent effect on revenues. This sentiment was fostered by Norris, who knew that the Respectables were the key to his power. Norris had been concerned when he had first learned that Anna’s brothers had gi
ven her Arthur Simpson’s block of the F-F, but there was little he could do. His alarm had diminished greatly when no Ursari had shown up at the 1952 vote, and he had little reason to think that they would ever appear. Martin, on the other hand, saw the opportunity he needed. If he could get Salvo and Anna on his side, then there was a chance that the Respectables might vote in his favour.
The trouble with this strategy was that the Ursaris were difficult to get in touch with. They had no telephone, and Martin knew that if he were to win over Anna, he would first have to win over Salvo, and there was no point in sending him a letter; as far as Martin knew, Salvo might not even read English.
He was thus faced with a difficult choice. He could either stay in New York and work on somehow gaining the support of the other Respectables, who though scattered were much easier to raise through conventional means, or he could travel across the continent and speak with the Ursaris. If he failed to gain their support, or if their support did not sway the Respectables, there would be no time to try anything else. It was a huge gamble, but Martin had a little of his uncle in him, and he decided to risk it. He made arrangements to travel to British Columbia.
Salvo did not immediately recognize the well-dressed man who walked up his driveway. He knew the man looked familiar, but it took him a long time to realize that it was Martin Fisher-Fielding. He was not someone Salvo had ever expected to see at his farm.
Martin strode confidently up to Salvo, who was replacing the broken handle of a shovel. He extended his hand, and Salvo shook it.
“Welcome,” Salvo said, wondering why Martin was there but not knowing how to ask him.
“Thank you. This is beautiful country here.”
Salvo looked around, as if to verify what he had said. “Yes, it is.”
“I’ll get to the point, Mr. Ursari—”
“Salvo.”
“Yes. Salvo, I need your help.” He explained the situation to Salvo, who though not ignorant of Fisher-Fielding politics had no idea how precarious the balance of power was. When Martin was done pleading his case, Salvo spoke.
“I will help you. I do not know if Anna will go along, but I will try. Norris Fisher-Fielding is not someone Cole would have wanted running his circus.”
“Thank you.”
“But if this works, if the F-F becomes yours, then I will need you to help me.”
“Of course. Anything I can do.”
Salvo hesitated, aware of the implications of what he was about to say. “I want to return to the wire.”
“The Fisher-Fielding Extravaganza should never have let the Ursaris go. If I become president, the first thing I will do is reinstate your contract.”
“I will hold you to that, Mr. Fisher-Fielding.”
Martin nodded. Salvo was a reasonable man, he thought. Norris was a fool to have made an enemy of him.
“My wife is in the house. We will go and see what she says.” Salvo motioned to the house, and they walked up the path towards it. Before they entered, Salvo put his hand on Martin’s forearm. “It would be better if we did not mention the wire yet,” he said.
“Right,” Martin said, and they entered the house.
Anna listened to Martin’s pitch, her face betraying no expression. She had known that eventually someone would want to try and unseat Norris, but she had not thought it would be so soon. At any rate, her mind had been made up before Martin had even arrived.
“I have no love in my heart for Norris,” she said slowly. “I hope you can get the circus out of his hands. I’ll help you in any way I can, but …” She paused. Martin’s face dropped, knowing that there was more coming and that it would not be good. “But I will not go to New York to vote, and I won’t deal with the others. I want no part of these politics.”
Martin’s heart sank. He was defeated, he knew. Salvo sat silently in the corner, trying to think of something to say to Anna that might change her mind.
“Let me ask you,” Anna said, “how much do you think my share of the F-F is worth?”
Martin shrugged. “Right now, not very much. Perhaps thirty or forty thousand dollars, at best.” Salvo’s eyebrows raised. That sounded like a lot of money to him.
Anna nodded. “That seems about right. Here’s what I’ll do. You can have my share of the F-F, Martin.”
Martin frowned. “I’m afraid I can’t, Mrs. Ursari. You aren’t allowed to sell your share. That was one of the conditions of the original agreement. The shares of the Respectables—” He stopped at this, unsure whether Anna was familiar with the name given to her group, but she did not appear fazed—”these shares cannot be sold.”
“I know. But they can be given away. And I’m giving them to you.”
Martin blinked. “You are?”
“Yes. The Fisher-Fielding Extravaganza is a special thing. It’s where I met my husband, whom I love more than anything. We aren’t rich, but we don’t need money. Nor do we need to own part of something that’s not ours.”
Martin stood, his face beaming. “Thank you, Mrs. Ursari. Thank you.”
Anna took his hand, and she smiled. Salvo fetched his bottle of rye whisky and they drank a toast to Cole Fisher-Fielding, and another to seal their deal. After Martin left, hurrying to the nearest lawyer’s office to have the necessary papers drawn up, Salvo asked Anna why she had done it.
“Etel did not start the fire,” she said, “and it was wrong of Norris to say she did. My father would have voted against Norris, and he would have got others to do the same. And,” she put her hand on Salvo’s cheek, “without the F-F, we would never have met.”
Salvo smiled, feeling guilty for deceiving her.
That night Anna lay in bed, wondering if she had made the right decision. She knew that a return to the wire would put an end to their way of life, and she hated to leave it, but she had known for some months now that there would be no other way.
She could even trace back to the date when she had realized that it would be nearly impossible to keep Salvo off the wire. It was 1950, their wedding anniversary, eight years since they had been hastily wed in the ring of the Fisher-Fielding Extravaganza, everybody in a hurry because they had just finished a matinee and there would be an evening performance in a couple of hours. She had not at the time of their marriage yet begun to hate the circus, and if asked at that moment she would have sworn she never would.
One of the first things Anna learned when she joined the F-F was that the circus meant different things to different people. Some of the performers were there because they were good at something that only the circus would pay them to do. Others were there because they had always been there, the children of performers or workers; they knew of no alternate way of life. Still others were there because that was all that was left for them, the circus being the only place that would give them a warm meal and a job. Some, like her, had come running from elsewhere.
When she met Salvo Ursari, Anna knew full well that he was the exact opposite of the kind of man her father wanted her to marry. And her father was pushing her to marry someone, anyone, of the sort that he approved. She knew it was only a matter of time until she found someone among that crowd whom she did not loathe, and that would be it. For her there would be a life of luxury, privilege and infinite, immaculate boredom. For her, at age twenty-six, the sort of life promised her was barely better than death.
When she had looked up that day in the crowd, and she had seen Salvo nearly fall and then look straight to her, she knew two things: She knew that a life with this man would never be boring. And she knew that he needed her, like no one she had ever known needed her. When their gaze met his eyes spoke to her. Save me.
She had not at the time realized that this was exactly what would happen, that she would feel compelled to remove Salvo from the wire, to save his body as well as his spirit, but this is what she had done. And she hated him for it, for making her love him so much she would feel it necessary to keep him from the one place he was alive.
All durin
g the time after the fire, and even in the months preceding it, she knew that she must get Salvo away from the wire. She believed that if he saw another side of life he would not need to walk, that he would grow used to a different life.
On the night of their last anniversary, Salvo gave Anna a framed photograph of herself on the wire. She remembered when the picture was taken but had not known that Salvo had a copy. It was after her first walk across the wire on her own. She was standing on the platform with a goofy grin plastered across her face, her arms raised in victory. Looking at the picture, she thought she looked like an idiot, and said as much.
“No,” Salvo said. “That is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”
Anna looked at him and saw that he meant it completely. A terrible twinge set off inside her. Slowly, over the next few days, she began to see what she had done. She was jealous of the wire, resentful of all the things that it gave Salvo that she could never give. Apart of her had reasoned that if she could remove the wire from his life, then she would be the most important thing. A wave of guilt washed over her, but still she could not bring herself to speak to Salvo about it. So when Martin Fisher-Fielding showed up at their house, she knew immediately what she must do.
Lying awake that night, though, she began to second-guess herself. Had she romanticized the wire yet again? she wondered. Did she forget so easily what life with the F-F was like? She wondered until light began to come in the window, and would continue to wonder in the weeks to come.
WHEN NORRIS FOUND OUT WHAT had occurred, he was furious. There was nothing he could do, however, and when he lost the vote for the presidency he refused to take a lesser position, much to Martin’s relief. The news of Martin’s victory was met by those in the Extravaganza with much pleasure. Martin was well respected as a man who was a capable manager and someone who understood the values that had made the F-F great. As the show ended its tour in the fall of 1957, people looked forward to the next year’s run with great anticipation.
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