He sat down on a bench, texted Antonio, then stared at the flyer with the elephants and clowns. He took a deep breath and tried to relax. His shoulders felt like they were made of iron and his neck ached.
“Why are clowns so happy?” Massi had asked one night after Cary had read a book about a stuffed clown toy that’d come to life. They’d laughed and made up stories for the book, which had only illustrations and no words. Massi had told Antonio the next day that he didn’t want to be a lawyer or a musician. He was going to be a clown. The memory made Cary smile.
And then it hit Cary like one of the elephants on the cover of the advertisement. Massimo wanted to be a clown. Sure, it had been two years ago, but the colorful photo of the clowns and elephants had been sitting on the table in the living room for three days now. Plenty of time for Massimo to have noticed.
Cary bolted out of his seat and ran to the corner and down the main street. It took him a few minutes to hail a taxi, enough time to text Antonio that he had an idea and that he’d be in touch as soon as he had a chance to check it out. Ten minutes later, he stood in front of the auditorium and a two-story high sign that read “Beppé Circus.”
The plaza outside the auditorium was empty. The streetlights flickered off as the sun began to rise from between the buildings behind Cary. It was still cold, although the wind had died a bit since he’d left the apartment. He was pretty sure the front entrance of the building would be locked up, so after checking just to be safe, he headed around the back to the parking lot. He’d noticed some of the trailers that housed the performers there when he’d driven by a week before.
He found a young woman dressed for a run doing some stretches near one of the trailers. “Excuse me,” he asked when she smiled at him. “I’m looking for a little boy. Nine years old. About this tall?” He put his hand to his chest where he knew Massi’s head would be. “Curly blond hair?”
“Sorry,” she said. “I haven’t seen him. But Rosina might be able to help you.” She pointed to an older woman who was filling up some buckets with water from a faucet on the wall of the main building.
“Thank you.” Cary strode quickly over to the second woman, who appeared to be in her sixties, judging by her gray hair and lined face. Stout, dressed in simple slacks, with a kerchief over her head, she looked a bit like she’d stepped out of a Fellini movie he’d seen with Aiden years ago. La Dolce Vita? Or was it La Strada? He was too tired to remember. Too nervous, as well. If he was wrong about this….
“Can I help you, signore?” the woman asked as he approached.
“My son,” Cary said. “He’s missing. I was hoping maybe you’d seen him.” He described Massi again and waited as she appeared to consider his question.
“I’ve seen a boy like that. Someone asked him where his father was and he said his father was in the toilets.” She frowned and added, “I think I saw him later, as well. He was watching some of the trainers with the animals after the show. I didn’t see the father.”
“Thank God.” Cary rubbed a hand over his mouth. “Do you know where he might have gone?”
The woman shook her head. “He might have spoken to one of the trainers. Inside, perhaps?”
“Can you take me inside?”
She eyed him cautiously. “I’m not supposed to let anyone inside without identification.”
“Please,” Cary said, hoping he didn’t sound as desperate as he felt. “We’ve been looking for him since yesterday. We’ve even called the police. I’ve been up all night. I promise I won’t disturb anyone.”
“You love him,” she said with obvious satisfaction. “I can see it in your eyes. That is enough identification for me.”
“Mille grazie,” Cary said. “I can’t thank you enough.”
She shot him a wide, toothy grin, then motioned him to follow her through a heavy set of steel doors a few yards away. As they walked inside, the smell of the animals Cary had barely noticed before became much more distinct. Not an unpleasant smell, but pungent nonetheless.
“I’m Lucia,” the woman told Cary as they walked down a long hallway with high ceilings and a concrete floor.
“Cary Redding,” he said.
“Cary? Not an Italian name, is it?” She seemed genuinely curious.
“American.” He forced a smile.
“Your Italian is very good,” she said. “Were you born here?”
“No. I was born in the United States. I’ve lived here a long time, though.”
“Ah, that explains it, then.” Lucia turned to the right and motioned him through another set of doors. “And what is your son’s name?”
“Massimo. But we call him Massi.”
“A good name,” Lucia said. “Is he a good boy?”
“The best.”
“We will find him for you.” She turned to a man who was shoveling dung into a bucket. The smell was powerful and did nothing to improve Cary’s grim mood. Cary looked up to see an elephant about ten feet away, tethered to a ring in the concrete wall of the building. Behind the elephant and to the right were a number of cages and several horses eating from buckets. Several pallets of feed for the animals were lined up in the corner next to bales of hay at the far end of the room.
“Rika.” Lucia walked over to the man. “The boy who was here last night. Have you seen him?”
“He watched the animals for a while until Misha told him he needed to find his father.” The man looked at Cary. “He the father?”
Lucia nodded.
“May I look around?” Cary asked.
“I don’t see why—” the man began, but Lucia interceded.
“Misha. It’s his son. You know how you’d feel if Renato was lost.”
“He ran away last night,” Cary said. “We’ve looked everywhere. I thought maybe he might be here. I promise I won’t disturb the animals. Please. It’ll just take a few minutes.”
The man’s face softened markedly. “Stay back from the elephants and horses,” he warned Cary. “They kick sometimes.” Cary must have looked nervous, because the man added, “They don’t mean to, but you don’t want to be in their way if they do.”
“Thank you.” Cary had never even had a cat growing up, and he’d never been this close to a horse, let alone an elephant.
Lucia grinned at him. “You don’t like animals, do you, Cary?”
“I don’t dislike them,” Cary told her. “I’ve just never been this close. To any animal, except maybe a dog or cat.”
She grinned again and took his hand in her rough one. “I’ll take you.” She led him past the elephants and horses to the cages beyond, stopping to pat his hand like a mother might do to a young child. “We will find him if he’s here.”
They walked between the rows of cages. The sheer scale of the room took Cary by surprise—it was nearly as large as the floor of the auditorium where the circus performed. He was glad for the distance between the cages so he wasn’t forced to walk too close to the animals. Most, though, were quietly eating their breakfast, and most appeared entirely uninterested in anything but their food.
They walked up and down four rows of cages and the bags of food in the corner. “I can take you inside if you’d like to check there,” Lucia said with a sympathetic expression that made her face appear even more wrinkled than before. “Perhaps he’s sleeping on one of the benches.”
Cary repressed a sigh. It had been a stupid idea, coming here. Massi probably hadn’t even noticed the announcement for the circus. He pulled out his phone and tapped the preset to dial Antonio.
“Did you find him?” Antonio’s voice sounded a bit higher than usual. Cary knew he hadn’t slept either. He also knew Antonio was trying to appear calm because it would help Cary stay calm, but Cary knew him well enough to know that underneath, he was just as nervous.
“No. Sorry. I had this great idea, but it was stupid. I should have known better. I thought—” Cary stopped dead in his tracks. In the corner, by one of the bales of hay, he noticed a shoe.
“Cary, is
everything all right?” Antonio asked.
“I…. Hold on just a second, Tonino?” Cary ran over to the hay and peered between several of the bales. They were stacked nearly as tall as he, but in between was a small space. The perfect size for a nine-year-old boy.
“Massi?”
Massimo looked up at Cary with sleepy eyes, as if trying to figure out where he was. “Cary Papà?”
“I found him and he’s fine,” Cary said quickly into the phone. “I’ll call you back in a few minutes.” He tapped the phone and shoved it into his pocket, then squeezed between the bales, not an easy feat for a grown man.
“Massi.”
Cary had just managed to kneel on the concrete floor when Massi launched himself into his arms, nearly knocking him over. Cary didn’t care—all he cared about was that he’d found Massi and that he was safe. Cary caught Lucia’s smiling face through the opening in the hay before she disappeared.
Massi’s blond curls tickled Cary’s nose. Massi smelled of dirt, hay, and animals, with a hint of the familiar scent of the shampoo Massi loved—bubble gum. It was the best thing Cary had ever smelled. He drew Massi closer, feeling the tangles in the shoulder-length ringlets.
“I was so worried about you,” he whispered as he did his best to hush Massi’s soft sobs.
“I’m s-sorry.” Massi sniffled and buried himself in Cary’s chest.
“It’s okay. The only thing that matters is that you’re safe.”
MASSI FELT heavy on Cary’s shoulders as they walked out of the auditorium and onto the sunny Milan street. They’d stopped briefly to see Lucia, who’d blushed when Cary kissed her on the cheek. “We’ll come by and say hello next week,” he’d promised as he handed her a slightly rumpled business card.
“You’re a musician?” she asked, her round face lighting up with pleasure.
“Let me know if you ever want tickets to La Scala. I know the house manager pretty well.”
In response, she hugged him so tightly that Cary’s cheeks grew hot.
“She liked you,” Massi said as they headed back toward their apartment.
“I liked her too. I hope we’ll see her when we go to the circus next week.” He looked up at Massi, who just grinned happily and hugged Cary’s head. Cary knew his shoulders would ache if he carried Massi for very long, but he didn’t care. He was also freezing in his T-shirt; he’d given his leather jacket to Massi, who had obviously been thrilled to borrow it, saying he was as cool as Cary now. Cary wasn’t going to tell the kid he was anything but cool.
“You want to talk about why you ran away?” Cary asked a few minutes later, after he’d called Antonio again to tell him they’d be home in about a half hour.
“I don’t know.”
“I think you do.” Cary squeezed Massi’s ankles reassuringly. “And I really want to understand.”
Massi didn’t immediately respond, and Cary guessed he was trying to put his thoughts into words.
“Did this have something to do with Graziella?” Cary prompted.
Cary felt Massi nod.
“It’s hard sometimes, huh?”
“Yeah,” Massi agreed.
“You need to tell me what’s up or your papà and I can’t make it better, you know.”
Massi nodded again.
“What are you thinking?” Cary asked.
“Graziella’s my sister,” Massi said at last.
“I know. You asked us for a little sister or brother.”
“Yeah. I did.” Cary heard the pride in Massi’s voice.
“But there’s something else, isn’t there?”
“I don’t know… I guess.” Massi fidgeted a bit, causing Cary to hold on to his legs a bit tighter to make sure Massi wouldn’t fall backward off his shoulders. One of the too-long sleeves of the leather jacket brushed Cary’s cheek as Massi moved about.
“It’s hard to talk about, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. I mean… I know I said I wanted her. But since she came, you and Papà have been really busy.” Cary heard frustration in Massi’s voice. A little bit of anger too.
“We have, haven’t we?”
Massi nodded again. “It’s not like I don’t have fun at Nonna’s,” he added. “But I like my room. And I miss Pita.”
Cary smiled. Pita was the stuffed dog Cary had picked up for Massi the last time he’d been to the States. “I bet she misses you too.”
“Yeah.”
“I guess your papà and I shouldn’t have left Pita alone, huh?” Cary asked.
“No. She doesn’t like that. I don’t either.”
“Can you tell Pita I’m sorry, and that I promise she won’t be alone again?”
“Yeah.” Massi squirmed a bit more as he said this.
“I missed you too, you know,” Cary said.
“You’re not mad at me? About wanting to be in the circus?”
“Not mad. I was just worried when you didn’t leave me a note telling me where you were going.”
“I don’t really want to be in the circus, you know,” Massi said in a serious voice.
“Yeah?” Cary knew his smile was as wide as his face. “Why not? Seems like a pretty cool deal.”
“I guess so.”
They arrived at the subway station and Cary bent down to let Massi off his shoulders. “So why wouldn’t you want to be part of the circus? I bet you’d make a great clown.”
Massi shrugged. “I watched the clowns after they were done. They weren’t really funny then. Their makeup was all runny and stuff. And it’s kind of smelly in the back.”
“I see.”
“Oh, and one more thing,” Massi said as he slid his hand over the metal handrail as they descended the steps together.
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“I like living with you and my papà.” Massi turned back for a moment and shot Cary a smile. The jacket looked big enough to fit three of Massi inside.
Not for long. Before you realize it, he’ll be as tall as his father.
Cary blinked back tears, thankful that Massi had turned around again. “I like living with you and your papà too.”
Third Movement:
Second Chances
“I LOVE Thanksgiving in Lombardy,” Jason said as he stood. “Better still with everyone here at the same time. So first off, thank you, David, for hosting us. The food is amazing.” He reached for his glass and took a long swallow, then chuckled as he felt his cheeks warm. “This really is a little embarrassing, you know, even though we’ve been doing this for as long as I can remember. I’m not very comfortable in the spotlight.”
“You can blame me,” Rachel put in.
“Lawyers are supposed to be able to talk,” Jules pointed out.
“We talk about other people.” Sam jumped to Jason’s defense. “Probably why everyone loves us so much.”
Jason laughed. “Thanks, man. That’s a huge help.”
“Happy to oblige.” Sam winked back at him.
“So, there is something I want to say that isn’t about someone else,” Jason said after one more long sip of his wine to steady himself. “But before I tell you what I’m thankful for, I’d like to tell you what happened to me a few weeks ago in Paris.”
Paris
One month before
JASON LEANED back in his chair and balanced on the back two legs. Without the cloud of cigarette smoke and the patrons crowding the Loup Garou’s tiny tables, the small club looked slightly forlorn. In the light of day, the brick walls appeared more weathered, and the stains on the concrete floor—splatters of paint and years of shoe scuffs hidden in the darkness—were clearly visible.
Up on the small stage, Jules pulled his bow out of the violin case and tightened it. He glanced at Jason as he ran the cake of rosin against the horsehair. Jason could tell he was nervous. A week had passed since David, the trio’s pianist, had announced he was quitting Blue Notes, and since then, Jules had avoided the topic except to ask Jason to set up a series of auditions for replacemen
t pianists.
“I’m really sorry,” David had told Jason, Jules, and Henri over coffee during a rehearsal break. “With all the traveling we’ve been doing the past few years and the twins, I just can’t do it to Marie-Claire anymore, especially with Didier starting kindergarten.”
Jason could only imagine how difficult it had been for Marie-Claire to care for two babies and a rambunctious five-year-old while David toured with Jules’s trio. Jason knew he couldn’t have handled being without Jules for as long as Blue Notes had been on the road, and he and Jules didn’t have any kids to worry about. Since the release of their second album, Blue Fields, eight months before, Jules and Jason had only spent about a month at their Paris apartment.
“Hey.” Henri sauntered in a few minutes later, cigarette hanging from his mouth.
Ten minutes early. Jason repressed a grin. Guy was a good influence on the drummer. These days, Henri only showed up late when there was a delay in the metro service.
“How many today?” Henri glanced at Jules and began to set up his drums a few feet away from the old upright piano.
“Two today, two tomorrow, and two on Friday,” Jules answered as he depressed the A key on the piano and began to tune his violin.
Jason winced inwardly—the piano was, as always, just slightly off pitch. Maurice, the club’s owner, was notoriously tightfisted, and Jason had, on occasion, tuned the piano himself when the weather changed and the monthly tuning was still weeks away. Not that any of them would complain. Maurice had purchased a new piano and allowed the trio to rehearse at the club during the daytime in return for the trio’s promise that they would play there at least once every three or four months.
“Where’s David?” Henri asked as he lifted his stool onto the dais.
“He said he just can’t do it.” Jules sighed and shook his head. When Henri cursed under his breath, Jules added, “Give the man a break. You know how hard this is for him. He doesn’t want to quit any more than we want him to.”
Henri made a face but said nothing. None of them had been looking forward to auditioning pianists to fill David’s spot, although the list of pianists vying for the position was quite impressive. Jason had arranged most of the auditions himself by calling in a few favors. Several of the pianists had budding solo careers in Europe but preferred playing in an ensemble. Blue Notes brought in enough money now that landing a spot as the trio’s pianist had even tempted a few Americans to make the trip.
Symphony in Blue Page 4