Entwined

by La Plante, Lynda

“She was adopted after the war,” said Ruda firmly.

  “After the…” Rebecca’s voice trailed off.

  Luis sighed. It was too much for him. “Well, I’m glad you’ve found each other.” He didn’t mean it to sound so hollow, so lacking in warmth, as if they had been apart for only a few hours—not a lifetime. He forced a smile. “You have a whole life to catch up on, I’ll leave you alone, but don’t forget you have a big show to do, Ruda.”

  They stood up, hands still held tightly. “Nothing will ever separate us again.” Then they turned and held each other.

  Luis closed the trailer door behind him. A feeling of dread enveloped him. He knew he should have stayed, made sure Ruda got herself ready.

  The rain was pouring down now and Luis had no raincoat. He muttered to himself. It was stupid, all he had to do was turn around, walk back, and get one. But he didn’t want to see them again, not just now. He looked at his watch. Then he looked over toward the main tent. A few stragglers stood at the box office now, and the last cars were being directed toward the private parking lot, the attendant in his bright yellow cape making authoritative, sweeping gestures.

  Luis passed by the lighted window of his trailer. He peered into it, but the blinds were down. He could see nothing. The laser beams continued to spell out the acts, and he looked up. Suddenly the sky blazed with the words: Ruda Kellerman.

  Luis prayed that the reunion would not overwhelm Ruda. He knew just how essential it was for her to have her wits about her. He plodded through the sodden ground and made up his mind that, just in case, he would bring a loaded rifle to the ring tonight. Suddenly he stopped, oblivious to the rain.

  “I love her.” He said it out loud, to no one.

  The realization of how little he really knew about Ruda and of her past shamed him. “I love her,” he repeated to the air.

  Of course he did. Hadn’t he been prepared to tell the inspector that he had killed Kellerman? He could have been in cuffs by now. It was sad that after all the years they had been together, it was only now that he realized just how much he loved her. He shook his head, smiling to himself, and then chuckled.

  They would be on the move soon, out of the country. He had time to make up for the bad years. Luis wondered if Rebecca would be coming with them.

  “I love my wife,” he repeated. Anyone who had witnessed his slow progress from the trailer would have concluded he was drunk, talking away to himself in the rain, without so much as a coat on.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  The ground was slippery; Louis held Helen’s elbow tightly to ensure that she did not fall. They stepped onto duckboards leading to the administration offices.

  At first the secretary thought the baron was trying to get invited to the small champagne party the owners had organized. She asked them to wait while she tried to reach one of the managers.

  The baron gave her a winning smile and said that he did not wish to disturb anyone, that he didn’t want tickets for the show, but that he wished to speak to Ruda Kellerman.

  The girl beckoned the baron over to a map of the trailer park. “There is where she lives, but whether she will agree to see you, sir, I can’t say. She is getting ready for the show.”

  The baron thanked her, and ushered Helen out, back down the slippery boards.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Mike showed off the meat trailer, the freezers, and the massive carcasses to Torsen and his party. Before he left them, Grimaldi had said they could park in the artists’ area. Mike had been the one Torsen had first approached to inquire about parking.

  As they began to head toward the main entrance, Mike offered to show them a shortcut. He led them behind the trailers, pointing out the ones owned by the big acts, and then offered to show them the meat trailer. Until the show started he had nothing else to do.

  Torsen checked his watch, worried he would miss the opening parade, but Mike assured him there was plenty of time. He told them that the “Big Boss” would make sure every single ticket was sold before the parade began. “You always think they’ll never get everyone seated in time, but they always do. Maybe five, ten minutes late—never more. Besides, I’ll show you the artists’ entrance. If your tickets are for the front row, it’ll be much easier.”

  As they peered into the freezers and looked over the cleavers and hammers, Vernon came in, already in costume. He was Mike’s assistant, a trainee keeper—the Grimaldis never paid much and Vernon was only eighteen years old. Mike made the introductions, and was about to suggest they follow him to the big top when Torsen asked nonchalantly if Mike had ever met Tommy Kellerman.

  Mike said he had seen him the day he was murdered—seen him briefly, up by the lions’ cages. Torsen repeated his question to Vernon. Vernon flushed, shrugged his shoulders, and muttered that he was not sure whether he had seen him or not.

  “You know he was brutally murdered,” said Torsen. “So if you saw him, anything you can tell me could be of great importance. I am heading the homicide investigation.”

  Mike gave Vernon a warning glance, then checked his watch. “I’d better go change!”

  Vernon said that since he was already dressed, he could show Torsen to the tent, and Mike, after another warning look to Vernon, skipped off.

  As they hurried across the muddy ground Torsen asked again about Kellerman. Vernon said nothing, holding open the tent flap and instructing them to turn right through the main arena entrance. “I hope you enjoy the show.”

  Torsen smiled and was about to step inside when Vernon called out to him. He turned. The boy held the umbrella down, the rain glanced off the black-soaked canvas. “I did see Kellerman, sir, but only for a brief moment. He was standing talking to Mrs. Grimaldi, up by Mamon’s cage. It was early afternoon on the day he was killed.” Vernon was not one hundred percent sure, but no one had deemed him even interesting enough to talk to—so he had the inspector’s full attention.

  Torsen stepped closer. “Was it a friendly chat?” He felt water trickle down his neck, and inched under the umbrella. Vernon was a little scared, wondering if he should have just kept his mouth shut. “I don’t know, I couldn’t hear, sir. In fact, I thought at first that he was one of the kids, you know, from one of the school groups. They take them around the cages. She looked as if she was telling him off. She was m one of her moods, Grimaldi was on one of his binges, so he was pretty useless and she’d had to do everything…and the plinths, the new pedestals were wrong. She’s got a temper, Mrs. Grimaldi does, and she’s always telling the kids off for getting too near the cages, but then I noticed his hat!”

  Torsen stepped further under the umbrella. “His hat?”

  “Yes, sir, it was a trilby, a black leather trilby.”

  “How did you know it was leather?”

  “Well, I saw it again, in the meat trailer. Well, I think it was his hat—Mike was wearing it.”

  “Mike?”

  Vernon was shaking, sure he had really made something out of nothing. “Yes, sir, the other helper, sir. He said he’d found it in , the meat trailer, but Mrs. Grimaldi took it from him, she said it was her husband’s, but it looked like the same hat I saw Kellerman wearing. Dunno why I remembered it, but then everyone around here’s been talking about the murder, so it sort of stuck in my mind, you know, wondering if it was him I had seen.”

  “But you said you did see him?”

  Vernon was really nervous now. “Well I don’t know for sure if it was Kellerman, sir. Just, well, he wasn’t with this circus—I know that. He wasn’t with any of the acts, or I would have recognized him.”

  They heard a loud fanfare, and Torsen looked to the tent.

  “The parade is starting, sir, you’d better hurry or they won’t let you to your seat.”

  Vernon sighed with relief when Torsen seemed no longer interested in him, or his theories, but at the same time, thinking it over again, Vernon was sure it was Kellerman he had seen.

  ♦ ♦ ♦


  Grimaldi had seen them all leaving the meat trailer, had followed Vernon and Torsen toward the big tent and watched them huddle under the umbrella. As Vernon hurried away, he stepped out and caught the boy by his coat.

  “I want to know what he asked you. What did he want sniffing around the freezer truck like a stray dog?”

  Vernon backed off, terrified.

  “He said you’d told him he could park in the artists’ car park, then he asked about the cats. Mike brought him in and offered to show him the trailer. That was all, sir.”

  Grimaldi patted Vernon’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, son, just that I’m a bit on edge tonight. It’s a big occasion. Have you seen Ruda?”

  Vernon said that he had not, and was relieved when Grimaldi started to walk away.

  “Oh, Vernon, tell Mike. I’ll be watching the cages tonight.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Grimaldi looked back, his eyes narrowed. “You sure that prick wasn’t asking questions about Tommy Kellerman?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Cats all ready, are they?”

  “Yes, sir, I’ll double-check them before we go in.”

  Grimaldi waved his big hand to indicate to Vernon he should carry on with his business. In truth he was not sure what he should do himself. He looked at his watch; there was still a good three quarters of an hour before it was time for Ruda to go on, but she had to be dressed for the parade. He didn’t want to go back to the trailer yet, so he walked around, making his way toward the cages. He heard his name called and turned to see Mike waving to him.

  “Boss, there’s a guy and a blond woman. They’ve been asking the way to your trailer. They went toward it about two minutes ago.

  Grimaldi hurried to Mike. “They say who they were?”

  “Yeah, I think the guy was a baron, maybe one of the celebrity guests. There’s a bit of a bash in the main conference room over in the administration block.”

  Grimaldi shrugged. There were always stars at these big openings. He ran his hands through his soaking hair. “Screw ‘em. Oh! Mike, in future you want to show any people around the freezer and meat trailers, you get permission, okay, son?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  They walked on to the covered tent where the animals were housed.

  “What did he want to go in there for anyway?”

  Mike was uneasy. He knew he should have got permission, so he lied. “Oh, he asked us a few questions, you know, if we’d seen Kellerman, Mrs. Grimaldi’s ex.”

  “I know who he was!” snapped Luis.

  “It was raining, so we took cover in the trailer.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  Mike wiped his face. “Nothing, sir. I’d better see to the props.” He tried to move away, but Grimaldi held on to his arm.

  “The cats all settled and in order?” Grimaldi asked.

  “Yes, sir, everything’s in order.”

  Grimaldi walked from one cage to the next. As always, the cats filled him with awe. Their wild, menacing beauty affected him deeply. He checked each cage, and then he heard the low heavy growl, the dull rumble. Mamon’s eyes glinted, his head hung low, feet splayed out. He sensed the man’s fear.

  Their voices spoke in unison. “Sasha! Sophia! Jason, Luis…“Four of Ruda’s cats had the names of Rebecca’s children. They hugged and laughed at the coincidences. Grimaldi hid behind Mamon’s cage as the women approached, watching them. They walked in step. But from a distance, Grimaldi could see that Rebecca was just a fraction behind Ruda, as if the movement was not instinctive, but copied. Because Rebecca was so slender she appeared, in the low lights of the animal arena, to be Ruda’s shadow.

  They had not yet caught up on the lost years, they could not in so short a time. Only sections of each other’s lives had been snatched and clutched at. Ruda knew Rebecca was married with four children, Rebecca knew Ruda was married and was an animal trainer. There were many layers to uncover, many questions to ask, but all they wanted now was this closeness. They studied each other, touched each other, to make sure they really were reunited.

  Rebecca showed no fear of the cats, only an extraordinary excitement. She wanted to touch them, put her hands through the bars, but Ruda had to hold her back, whispering that it was too soon.

  “Too soon, yes, too soon,” repeated Rebecca.

  Ruda’s physical strength made Rebecca weak with adoration. Ruda’s powerful body and rough hands made her want to be wrapped in Ruda’s arms. Ruda felt Rebecca’s need and it awoke in her a gentleness, a protectiveness that made her body tingle. She showed off her animals with pride, wanting Rebecca to see her loved ones, and to see her perform.

  “This is everything I dreamed…”

  “Yes, you dreamed this, and I want…”

  “You to see me, with my children.”

  “Yes, they are my children,” Ruda paused, and gave a strange half laugh. “Sasha, your last daughter is twelve, yes?”

  Rebecca nodded. Ruda recalled the pains she had felt at the time of each birth. Sasha’s birth pains she remembered most clearly. They coincided with the time she had been told she could never carry a child. As if she understood this, Rebecca clasped her sister’s hand. In some ways it was as if they had never been apart. Rebecca accepted Ruda without question. In that one hour, the relationship had reverted to the way it had always been. Ruda was dominant, Rebecca passive. Ruda was born first, she had preceded Rebecca by two minutes.

  The music became louder, and Grimaldi watched Ruda lead Rebecca toward the artists’ entrance. He was soaked and made his way back to the trailer to change for the show.

  The noise was deafening. Torsen couldn’t see Freda or Rieckert anywhere. Apologetically, he edged his way through a group of jugglers waiting to enter.

  Torsen moved cautiously along the tiers of seats. He stood at the edge of the ring and looked around the audience. He could see walls of lights and thousands of seats. He didn’t have his seat number—all he knew was that he was in the front row. He squinted through the semidarkness, searching the sea of faces. Beyond the small ring was the vast main ring, beyond that the third ring. Suddenly the huge big top was plunged into darkness. The crowd murmured, sensing the show was about to begin. The fanfares blared, once, twice: “Ladies and gentlemen, Schmidt’s World Famous Circus welcomes you! Three rings, hundreds of artists. We welcome you to a night of unparalleled extravaganza! From Argentina, the world famous bareback riders—The Comancheros…”

  Torsen, his eyes at last accustomed to the darkness, made out Freda’s and Rieckert’s faces at the side of the main ring’s entrance. He scurried into his vacant seat just as the horses thundered into the ring.

  Freda clasped his arm. “Isn’t this exciting? I have never been to a circus before!”

  Torsen inched off his wet coat, and Freda moved close to him, slipping her hand through the crook of his arm. Torsen touched her fingers.

  “I am glad I asked you to come with me.”

  She looked in awe at the ring as the Argentinian riders screamed and called out at the top of their voices. Twenty-five horses, groomed and gleaming, galloped around carrying a sparkling banner.

  The bareback girls whooped and yelled as they bounced and bobbed, leaping to stand upright on the horses’ backs with nothing more than a glittering red ribbon for a rein. The smell of the horses, the sawdust, and the resin added to the excitement.

  Torsen was happy. His father had been right. Freda was lovely.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Grimaldi was buttoning the high collar of his clean shirt when he heard the fanfares. He knew exactly how many there would be before the parade ended, and he quickly tucked his shirt into his trousers. Then he opened the bunk seat, and looked over the rifles.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  The baron and Helen asked one of the parking lot attendants which one was the Grimaldi trailer. He was taken aback when the man asked: “Where’s your pass?”

  “I d
on’t have one, I am Baron…”

  “Without a pass you can’t be in the artists’ section.”

  “I wish to speak with Mr. Grimaldi and his wife Ruda Kellerman. It’s very important.”

  “No way. See the big tent—they’ll be in there. I’m sorry, please leave. I can’t let you wander around here. Go on through the barrier.”

  The baron was about to argue when Helen suggested that perhaps they should wait; it was obvious they would not be able to speak to either Grimaldi or Ruda Kellerman now.

  “Sir! Mr. Grimaldi!”

  Luis turned, quickly hiding the rifle beneath his rain cape.

  The attendant ran to Grimaldi. They talked, then the boy pointed back to the baron and Helen.

  “I told them to wait, sir. They have no pass, but they said it was important.”

  Grimaldi walked up to the baron. “What do you want?”

  The baron asked if they could talk somewhere in private, but Grimaldi shook his head. “Not before the show. What do you want?”

  “It is very important. I need to speak to you about my wife.”

  “Your wife?” Grimaldi held his hand up to shield his face from the rain.

  “Yes. This is Dr. Helen Masters, my wife’s doctor. Have you seen Baroness Marechal? We think there may be some connection between her and Ruda Kellerman.”

  Grimaldi hesitated.

  Helen moved closer. “Please help us. She is very sick. We think she may have tried to see Ruda Kellerman.”

  “Is the woman called Rebecca?”

  “Yes!” The baron stepped closer, but Grimaldi moved back sharply. “Is she here? Have you seen her?”

  Grimaldi had to shout above the noise of the circus orchestra.

  “She came here. She was with Ruda, but I don’t know where she is now. Come to the trailer after the show.”

  “Did you speak to her?” asked Helen.

  “Yes, yes I did. She’s sick, you say?”

  The baron gripped his hands tightly. “This is very important. Please, we must talk to her.”

  Grimaldi looked back to the tent. “I can’t talk to you now, the show’s starting. Your wife says she is Ruda’s sister; they were together earlier. They said they’re twins.”