by Amanda Davis
“You’re fine,” I said. “I’m the one who’s no good at this.”
There was definite rain now, big fat glops of it, and the wind was picking up, shaking the trees. “I don’t know how to be,” I said. “I have no idea how to talk about anything.”
“What are you talking about? You’re so cool. You’re always so cool. You take everything in stride, I know you.”
“No I’m not.”
“Yes you are.”
“No I’m not.”
“You are too.” We were shouting now, and the rain came down in sheets. “Nothing bothers you, you’re just comfortable anywhere. I’ve watched you.”
“For fuck’s sake, Rod!” I shouted. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. I am the hugest dork that was ever born.”
He shook his head. And then he smiled. “You’re the wettest dork that was ever born.”
I smiled back. “You’re pretty fucking wet yourself,” I said. And then I leaned forward and took his hand.
As soon as I’d done it I froze, but he grinned at me, so I didn’t let go. I tried to be calm but I was acutely aware of our bodies touching. More aware of that than the rain or the wind or anything else. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t quite understand how we’d come to be like this.
Rod looked at our hands and at me and then he pulled me to him and into a hug. At first I was completely stiff, but he whispered, right in my ear, for me to relax and when I did, it was wet and warm and felt so totally normal that I started laughing, which started him laughing. He pulled back and looked at me, and then he leaned in to kiss me, but I panicked and turned my head so that his lips grazed my cheek. My heart was pounding, but I felt light all over, and incredibly warm. He put his arm around me and we started to run through the mud. After all, it was almost showtime and neither of us was in costume.
EIGHTEEN
THE next two weeks zipped by. Wilma and I were formal with each other. When we traveled, we navigated from town to town in silence, me pointing out arrows, her acknowledging them. Luckily our jumps weren’t that long.
We moved around each other in the trailer like strangers, but it bothered me less and less. Now when she did things that bugged me, I told her instead of just taking it.
“You’re snoring,” I said, and leaned over to kick the bed frame when she woke me at 4 A.M. by sawing away. When I came in after the show and was ready to go to sleep, I asked her to move her things off my bed instead of just doing it for her.
Somehow knowing Wilma had no interest in being my friend made it much easier to live with her. And maybe she felt guilty, or maybe she was just counting the days until I moved out, but she acted like everything was the same as always, only more distant.
Meanwhile, I was busy kissing her brother. I was so giddy about the whole thing, I didn’t know quite what to do with myself. Rod and I were both so silly and shy that it almost made it possible to talk about anything.
For Rod it seemed as though he’d suddenly been given license to say whatever came into his mind, and he did. He talked about his family a lot, and about his mom’s death. He told me how he dreamed of going to college and living in the same town for four years. That seemed exotic to him. And he wanted to major in something practical so he could end up with a job and a house, all of which he saw as the normal life that he’d been deprived of by the circus.
I loved to listen to him. I loved the timbre of his voice when he said my name. I was terrified, each time I saw him, by all sorts of things, not the least of which was that he would want to touch me, and that I wouldn’t know how to let him without thinking of all sorts of ways I’d already been touched that I didn’t want to think about anymore. I worried that there were lots of things I couldn’t say, wasn’t sure I wanted to. I was afraid that if I talked about anything with him, matched his openness even a little bit, it might all come tumbling out.
But somehow, when we were actually together, it all seemed easy. It was just Rod, after all. And I knew him really well.
But we were almost back where I’d come from, and one way or another, I knew at some point I’d have some explaining to do.
When we finally got to North Carolina, something in my blood relaxed. The entire state smelled like home. The crowds began to look familiar, to feel familiar. There was something in the shape of people’s faces, in the way they held themselves. It was exhilarating, and it was something I needed to be wary of. If I could recognize someone, I reminded myself, someone might possibly recognize me.
One morning I showered and dressed and made my way to the bulls.
And then I saw her.
I knew in my bones it was Yael. She had dark curly hair pulled back in a loose ponytail and she wore jeans and work boots and a faded gray T-shirt. I vaguely recognized her as the girl who’d slapped Charlie back in Gleryton. A lifetime ago.
I watched Yael rub Bluebell’s leg, then whisper something into her giant ear. Bluebell tossed her head, with what seemed like delight. While she was greeting Olivia, I approached. I felt nervous.
“I’m Annabelle,” I said. She turned, startled, but smiled. Her eyes were big and dark and brown. Her cheeks were freckled. She didn’t look much older than me.
“You scared the fuck out of me,” she said. “I’m Yael. I hear I’m booting you out of house and home.”
“Not really,” I said, and let myself relax a little. “Well, sort of.”
We laughed. Olivia reached out her trunk and poked at Yael’s pants to see if she had treats.
Yael pulled out a carrot and handed it over without looking.
“So you did this for a while? The groom thing?”
“Yes.” I nodded. I felt awkward. “I’m going to miss them.”
“Where are you going?” Yael made a face. “I thought you were staying?”
“I am, but I’m going to be busy. I’m going to work with the aerialists.”
“Fuck,” she said. “I’m afraid of heights. I could never do that. That’s pretty intense.”
I nodded. And then I thought about what Charlie had said, about how hard it was to be back. How everybody talked and how difficult it was to return to a life you loved when you wanted to start over, and I felt a surge of protectiveness towards this total stranger who was stealing my place. Bluebell let loose a mountain of poo.
I picked up the shovel, then smiled and handed it to Yael.
“Welcome back,” I said.
I stayed with Yael for most of the morning. At first I was careful not to bring up Charlie or Marco or any of it. I helped her groom and muck the horses and hose down the elephants. And then, I asked where she’d been all this time, where she’d gone after Macon.
Her cheeks grew pink but her voice didn’t falter. “I went home,” she said. “I called my folks from the police station and my dad came to get me.”
“Where do they live?”
“Pennsylvania,” she said. “Outside Philly.” She sat down in the shade and helped herself to a soda from Jim’s cooler. “It was really rough,” she said. “I mean being back there was weird. And there was all sorts of therapy and doctors. But as soon as they let me go, I came back here. I knew I wanted to come back, you know. I just knew it.”
I nodded. I had not expected such a direct answer. Bluebell plucked a mound of hay and deposited it in her big pink mouth.
“You wanna know something amazing?” Yael said. “I mean this fucking blows my mind.”
She pointed at the elephants. “They chain them when they’re babies, right? Trainers put a chain around their ankle and drive a stake in the ground so the baby elephant won’t wander off. Then this little animal, this little elephant grows up, very slowly, into a fucking huge creature. I mean, look at her! But she grew up with that chain—not the same one, they change it every year, or whatever—always there. Always around her ankle, see. So she still thinks she can’t go anywhere, that she’s held to the ground, trapped against her free will. When the truth is that she’s bi
g enough now to do whatever the fuck she wants.” Yael took a long drink and laughed. “Blows my mind. And you know who told me that?” She waited for an answer.
“Who?”
“My fucking shrink. You believe that?”
“Huh,” I said.
“I know.” She abruptly stared off in the distance and I followed her gaze. Jim was coming towards us with a large sack.
“He’s the same old coot,” she said softly, and stood up. Jim dumped the bag in the back of the truck and swept Yael into his arms. “Yael, darling, how the hell are you?” he said. His voice twinkled with excitement.
“God, you look like shit, Jim. What nasty crap have you been drinking?”
He tossed his head back and laughed long and loud. “Oh, I missed you, doll. I bloody missed that filthy mouth of yours! Well, we have lots of catching up to do.” He dragged the lawn chairs to face each other and sat down, motioning her to sit opposite him. I chose this moment to turn and go.
“Hey, Annabelle,” she called after me. “Where you off to?”
“See you later,” I said. I didn’t know where I was off to, just that it was time to walk away.
I looked down as I walked, and thought about my own ankles. And then I went to find the aerialists.
Their trailers were at the other end of the lot, parked in a V near some trees. A rectangular trampoline was set up nearby with a harness outfitted overhead. I walked around the trampoline, past a trapeze rigged from a metal skeleton, and towards the vortex of the two trailers. It was very still and quiet. I didn’t know which one was which, but I closed my eyes and picked, then knocked.
I heard movement behind me and then the other door opened. Victor stood there naked, except for a towel around his waist that he held closed.
“Annabelle?”
I nodded.
“Yes,” he said. “This right now is not the best time. Perhaps you can come back?”
I nodded again and tried to keep my eyes on his face, but his body was beautiful. I heard movement behind him and then a voice called something in Spanish and he answered her.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I thought…”
“No. It is okay. Perhaps you go and then afterwards you come back. Perhaps tomorrow at three o’clock?”
“Yes. Right. Yes.” I backed away from the door and he smiled, then closed it.
I was restless with this time on my hands. It was an unfamiliar feeling after so many months of constant purpose. I wandered up to the main tent and entered via the audience door, walking through the unmanned concession tent with its cheap gifts for sale. It was dim inside, but when I parted the curtain and passed into the big top, there was a show light on.
In the center of the ring, Steve had two of his tigers sitting on pedestals while a third followed the crack of his whip around the ring. His left arm was bandaged. Creole Kevin crouched nearby with props. Steve called commands and the tigers obeyed. I watched for a few moments but it felt like spying. I left as quietly as I’d entered.
I blinked at the brightness outside. The afternoon stretched before me. I figured I’d better get my things and make space for Yael.
After the evening show, I walked Bluebell back to the truck and told Jim I would miss her.
“She’s not going anywhere, luv,” he said. “And you’ll be doing the show tomorrow. When you stop working with us, you can still come by and say hello. I’m sure she’ll miss you too.”
I nodded but felt funny. I wanted Jim to miss me also. And Olivia. I wanted them to notice I had gone, all of them, Benny, Billy, Uno, and Dos too. I wanted to believe that I was not so easily replaced.
Rod came to walk me to my new trailer. “This is silly,” I said. “It’s really not that much farther and the moon is full.”
“You never know,” Rod said. “I’m not going to risk it. There are dangerous creatures all over a circus lot.” He made a werewolf face and I laughed.
“You just want to walk me home so you can take advantage of me yourself,” I said.
He nodded. “It’s as good a reason as any,” he said, and took my hand to swing it back and forth.
“I told you I’m from around here,” I said. “Right?”
“Annabelle,” Rod said. “You rarely tell me anything.”
“That’s so not true.” But I saw that he was serious. I stopped. “You’re right,” I said. “I’m sorry about that.”
He shrugged. “You’re a woman of mystery. I’m used to it.”
We began walking again. “I’m from near here,” I said. “And someday I’ll tell you the whole damn story.”
The light was on in the yellow trailer I was to share with Lola and Lauren Turner and Tammy-Ellen-Frances Fendenberger (whom everyone called Skip). When I’d dumped my stuff earlier in the afternoon, the trailer had been empty. It was clear which bed was mine—there was only one bare bunk—but not where my few things should go, so I’d left them all piled on my bed.
Now, when I entered, Lola and Lauren were drinking beers at a small fold-down table. They were fraternal twins but shared the same ash-blond hair and overbite. They dressed alike too: pale tight jeans and halter tops or huge pastel sweatshirts. They ran the concessions and their father, Rick, was the head canvas man. Skip wasn’t there.
“Hey, lady!” Lola said. “How was the show?”
I felt shy. “Good,” I said. “Full. How are you guys?”
“Great,” Lola said. “Lauren put your stuff in the pink locker back there.”
Lauren smiled and pointed.
“Oh.” I saw that my bunk had been made up, and that my things were gone. I walked back past both sets of bunk beds to where four tall school lockers lined the rear wall. Inside the pink one, my clothes hung on hooks and my backpack squatted on the top shelf. My cowboy boots were neatly arranged on the locker floor.
“Thanks a lot,” I said. “That was nice of you.”
“No problem,” Lola said. “Lauren likes things neat, so we let her straighten up for us.”
“You’re sharing a bunk with Skip,” Lauren said, and coughed. “She snores but you get used to it.”
“I already am,” I said. “So does Wilma.” I stood between the beds with a hand on my pillow, and let the strangeness of this new place wash over me. I stripped off my leotard and tail and changed into a T-shirt. I washed my face and climbed into bed. I was fast asleep in moments.
I woke to the feeling that I was being watched. I sat up in bed and stopped myself just before I hit my head. The fat girl stood at the end of my bed. She put her finger to her lips.
I heard movement and turned. Victor stood by my pillow, with another dark shape behind him. “Get dressed and come with me,” he said softly. “Long pants. We’ll be waiting outside.”
I climbed down and scrambled into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, checking to make sure everyone else was lost in sleep.
The fat girl followed me silently.
Victor was standing outside with Carla and Juan. “So you want to be with us,” he said.
I nodded. Light was just beginning to creep over the horizon, making every solid thing seem as though it wavered. “I thought Elaine talked to you,” I said.
“She did,” Victor said. “But you cannot believe we would train you without knowing what you are made of? A handstand does not tell us enough about you.” He smiled. “We must learn for ourselves what you are made of.”
Juan crossed his arms. I started to feel uneasy.
“Even if you will only be carrying the heavy things for us for the next few years, if we are to trust you then we must know you. And in our family there is only one way to know you.” Carla giggled.
Victor motioned. “You will please come with us.”
I followed them into the big top. Juan disappeared and flicked a series of switches and all the tent lights came on, bright and sudden. I cringed, and blinked until my eyes had adjusted. Then I saw Victor looking up and followed his gaze. Through the mess of cables and wires I could s
ee a trapeze tied off to a platform so high up that from where I stood it was the size of a postage stamp.
Juan and Carla returned dragging a huge canvas bag. They opened it and dumped its tangled contents on the ground.
It was the net.
I looked back up at that platform and down at the net. The three of them faced me, smiling.
“We can’t just take your word for being brave,” Victor said, and his smile no longer looked friendly to me. “We have to see what you are able to do.”
“Oh my God.” The words slipped out, and I felt myself begin to sweat.
“Don’t worry,” Victor said. “Carla and Juan will show you how to rig the net and how to fall. If you pay attention you will not get hurt. It is very easy.” He uncrossed his arms and opened them to encompass the whole tent. “You did not think you could walk into the circus and be one of us, did you? You will prove yourself.”
I watched his face for any trace of humor, but he meant what he said. Juan and Carla unrolled the net and stretched it out to its full size. They attached cables to it and tightened them until the net was firmly in place, stretched about eleven feet off the ground.
“He only means to scare you a little,” Carla said when she was through. Her eyes were unmistakably kind. “We start with what is easiest first.”
Juan locked his fingers together to create a step, then gave Carla a boost and she climbed onto the net. “You are going to land on your back,” she said. “And then you will crawl or roll to the edge of the net like this, and then bend over,” she said, demonstrating. She lay on her stomach on the net and crawled to its edge, then leaned over so that only her lower half was supported, grabbed a little of the net beneath her, and flipped around so that she hung from underneath the net, about five feet from the ground. She dropped lightly to the earth and raised her hands over her head, then took a bow.
“Now you try,” she said.
I swallowed. I felt a hand at my back and a gentle pressure to step forward. I looked over my shoulder and the fat girl gave me the thumbs-up.