The Wild in her Eyes

by Karina Giörtz

  “But it couldn’t have been easy. I mean, I have perfect vision and there’s no way I could do what you do.”

  Homer nodded. “There’s certainly a degree of effort involved. It takes dedication. Loads of trial and error. Perfecting the pitch, learning how long it takes for each flip and then properly pacing the count. Caroline’s always been a huge help with that. There are always misses and poor catches along the way, though.” He held out his hand for her to see. It was covered in scars left by burns and blades.

  Annis gasped at the sight. “Didn’t that hurt?”

  “Of course,” Homer said, tucking his hand back behind his head. “But loads of things in life hurt. And all hurt heals.”

  Annis wasn’t sure she believed that was true, but for the sake of honoring his tale she didn’t argue. “What about Caroline?” she asked, nudging the dainty woman beside her who seemed to be dozing right through this conversation. “Weren’t you ever scared? In the beginning, when he was still learning?”

  “I’m always scared,” Caroline admitted. “Scared I’ll screw up. That my judgement will be wrong, and he’ll get hurt.”

  It wasn’t at all the answer Annis had expected, though she noticed Homer wasn’t at all surprised. In fact, he curled his arm more tightly around Caroline, whispering words of comfort in his wife’s ear.

  “You’re never scared...For yourself?” Annis wasn’t sure why she was harping on it, but she wanted to know.

  Caroline reached up for the hand Homer had tucked behind his head, hiding the painful remnants of their tribulations along the path to perfecting their act. “These aren’t his errors. They’re mine. They’re the times I miscalculated. The moments I wasn’t in the right place at the right time. These marks were all meant for me, yet not a single one is on my body.” Caroline traced the scars tenderly with her fingertips. “I’m never scared for me,” she whispered. “I’ve never had reason to be.”

  Annis laid her head back, feelings of awe rising into her throat and building pressure in her eyes. She’d never known anyone as certain of another human being as they were of each other. “How did you two fall in love?” she asked. Her voice was timid but her need to know was stronger than ever.

  “It was love at first sight,” Homer deadpanned. Both girls let out an unexpected laugh. It was a relief after the heightened emotions that came with their current conversation.

  “Was for me,” Caroline said, after they’d all settled down again. “First time I saw him, I knew he was mine.”

  “Was it here? At the circus?”

  Caroline let her gaze drift upward to the sky. “It was. After a show. He’d stayed in the audience, waiting.”

  “What for?” Annis felt her curiosity pique.

  “Her,” he answered quietly. “She’d walked past me as she went out into the ring. She’d smelled of honey, and her silky long hair had brushed against my arm, giving me chills as she went by. She was talking to herself, muttering under her breath, ‘Those who bend can’t be broken. Those who fly don’t fear the fall.’” He paused, lost in thought. And then he said, “I wanted to fly.”

  The hand he kept tucked around Caroline’s neck moved until he could lazily curl the long strands of her hair around his fingers as he went on. “To think I almost didn’t go. Everyone thought it was absurd, a blind man going to see the circus. Everyone thinks it’s all about what the eyes see, but I daresay I got a great deal more for my ticket than anyone else did.”

  Annis caught herself clutching her heart, genuinely touched by the beauty of their romance. “Love at first scent,” she said, and then sighed dreamily.

  “It’s all the rage among blind men,” Homer joked. “And, frankly, from what I gather, a great deal more reliable than waging your love on someone’s looks. At least if someone smells nice, you can suppose they enjoy a good bath every now and again. And there’s really no value too high to be placed on being clean.”

  Annis felt her eyes widen with surprised delight before she burst into a giggle. She knew someday she’d probably become accustomed to the silly things people said out loud around here, and she already dreaded it. Part of the fun was in never seeing it coming. Which was, of course, how Homer experienced everything.

  “Right, then,” Caroline mused, her mouth fighting a grin as she watched Annis curl up, still chuckling to herself, and waking Finian as she did. “Anything else you’d like to learn today?”

  “No,” Annis said, releasing the last of her laughter in a loud hiccup. “I don’t think anything you two are teaching me is of any use, anyhow.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Caroline gasped, pretending to be affronted by the statement.

  “It’s all fussy romance stuff. Having a partner. Falling in love. It hardly applies to me. And, I’m quite sure, Hugh would prefer it stayed that way.”

  Caroline looked taken aback. “Why would you say that?”

  Annis wiggled her body into a straighter line, just for something to do that would keep her eyes turned away from her companions. “You know.”

  “Because of Sequoyah,” Homer said with certainty. For a man who couldn’t see, he never missed a single thing. Or maybe he was so perceptive because he was a man who couldn’t see.

  “That’s ridiculous,” Caroline scoffed.

  “Is it?” Annis wasn’t so sure. “Think about it. He found out about...Whatever there is to find out about us...And turned around and gave me a puppy. Don’t get me wrong, I love Finian, but I can’t help feeling there’s a slight bit of consolation prize happening here. Or, at the very least, a lovely distraction to keep me thinking of things other than his son.” She sighed. “Not that I blame him. I wouldn’t want me as a potential suitor for anyone I cared about either.”

  “Why would you say that?” Caroline asked, as though she’d been directly insulted by what Annis said.

  “I stumbled out of the woods and into camp two days ago, Caroline. All I had was a name and the clothes on my back. Ripped clothes. Dirty clothes. Ripped and dirty everything. And I may not have seen myself, but I can say with a fair amount of confidence that I was nowhere near presentable, let alone respectable.”

  Caroline let out a harsh “Ha!” and then she continued, “In two days here, have you met a single person who could qualify as respectable?”

  “No,” Annis admitted. “But I notice no one else is being courted by Sequoyah either. So, there may well be some correlation between the two points.”

  “There’s not,” Homer cut in. “He’s not courting anyone because he’s not the sort to court a girl he isn’t certain about.”

  “Oh.” Annis felt the air deflate from her being.

  “Don’t go getting all disappointed over nothing,” he said with a chuckle. “You’re it. Or, you will be when the time comes.”

  “How do you know?” Annis insisted.

  Caroline clapped her hand to her thigh, making a smacking sound. “Have you not listened to anything we’ve told you today?”

  “But that was all about you! It’s not got anything to do with me and Sequoyah.”

  “Or,” Homer interjected, fingertip rising skyward preparing to make a point, “maybe it has everything to do with you and Sequoyah and that’s why Hugh sent you our way in the first place.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “Not usually,” Caroline agreed, bouncing her shoulders playfully. “But in this case, I do believe we are. Aren’t we, darling?”

  He nodded profusely. “Yes, very much so.”

  The three of them swung silently back and forth for a while, enjoying the gentle sway of the hammock, the balmy breeze that swept through the branches every so often, and the hum of life that surrounded them with the loveliest music nature had to offer.

  Then a rustle in the woods drew Annis’s attention and she sprung upright in an instant. “What was that?”

  Homer waved his hand lazily. “Movement,” he said simply.

  Annis understood his meaning. Isolated though they f
elt, they were hardly alone. Even if it wasn’t the sound of an approaching dear or a passing rabbit, they were hardly far enough from camp to assume they were the only people in the vicinity.

  Still, despite Homer and Caroline’s lacking interest, Annis couldn’t settle back into the hammock, with her eyelids lazily shut, as she had before.

  Seconds passed. Those turned to minutes, and no suspicious sounds followed the first. Annis was almost ready to abandon her worries when another rustle, several feet down from the first, caught her attention. Her eyes darted between the tree trunks, straining to make out anything other than leaves, branches, or hanging vines. Then Annis caught a dash of blue and a fleeting glimpse of shimmering silver.

  “Floyd,” she said, giving Caroline a soft nudge. “There, in the trees.”

  Caroline sighed, eyes still closed, body still nestled to her husband’s. “Of course it is,” she murmured.

  “Shouldn’t we do something?” Annis asked, thinking of the sisters and their concern when they’d last seen Floyd headed for the edge of camp.

  “No need,” Homer assured her. “Floyd is like an old cat. No matter what, he always knows how to find his way home.”

  “Are you certain?” Annis persisted. “Mabel and Maude seemed quite worried about his wandering off last night.”

  “Not because of where he might go,” Homer explained easily. “But because of what he might encounter. You ought to know better than anyone that you need your wits about you to survive the night out among the wild and the elements. And wits, I’m afraid, Floyd has no longer got.”

  Annis sat back, her skin against the canvas of the hammock. It was warm and reminded her just how much her life had changed over such a short time. Still, her eyes followed Floyd as best as they could. Something about him made her uneasy. Despite what everyone was telling her about him, she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling he wasn’t nearly as without his wits as he had everyone believing.

  Chapter Eleven

  WANTED

  That night’s show was livelier than the one before. A day of rest had served everyone well. The stands were even more packed, as though everyone from the previous night had come back and brought a friend with them. The seats were filled, and people had to resort to standing. But there was no standing room left. A set of feet occupied every available space. Many of the men even held, on their shoulders, women and children who waved and howled with excitement at everyone who passed by.

  Annis stood behind the curtains that separated the ring from the entertainers with her eyes wide and her mouth agape. She could hardly believe how many people she was seeing.

  “Tell me honestly,” Homer said, coming up beside her. “How many people are out there? Before you answer, keep in mind I get horrible stage fright when loads of people are watching.”

  Annis looked back and forth between his face and the ever-increasing audience just beyond the curtain. Homer was impossible to read and serious as ever, but he was still Homer and deadpan humor was his favorite, after all.

  “Honestly?” Annis took one more look at the crowd, and then closed her eyes, taking in the roar of their anticipation. “Hardly anyone out there. Two, three people maybe. Wait, two more just walked in.”

  “So, five in total, then.” Homer nodded, maintaining his ironclad expression. “Brilliant. That’s just the right amount of people I like to perform in front of.”

  “Talk about perfect.” Annis smirked. Homer’s special brand of humor was quickly becoming her favorite form of entertainment.

  “Indeed,” Homer agreed, at last cracking his own subtle smirk.

  “What are you two doing lurking at the curtain? Anything interesting happening out there?” Caroline asked, sidling up to them and peeling back the thick material to peek for herself. “Oh, would you look at that.”

  “What?” Annis hurried to regain her spot where the sliver of light shone through and all the most important parts of the tent became visible.

  “Not every night the local authorities turn up to take in a show,” Caroline observed, nodding toward the far left where Annis spotted two men in uniforms.

  “What do you suppose they want?” she asked, ignoring the quiver in her own voice. They couldn’t be there for her. It wasn’t possible.

  “They’re here for Smalls,” Maude chimed in from behind them. “He caused quite the ruckus in town today. Serves him right they followed him home.”

  “What will they do to him?” Though Annis was instantly worried for her friend, she couldn’t help but feel relieved knowing she was still safe, still hidden.

  “Oh, I doubt they’ll do anything,” Maude said, flicking her wrist and dismissing all reasons for concern. “He didn’t do anything illegal. Just,” she paused to flare her eyes at them for added theatrics, “stirred things up a bit.”

  “Lord, don’t tell me it was anywhere I sent you,” Caroline groaned, covering her eyes with her hand and shaking her head as though she were already dreading the answer.

  “It was everywhere you sent us,” Maude replied with a laugh. “And Sawyer was sure to spout your name every chance he got, so probably best you don’t go back the next few times we pass through town.”

  “Which reminds me, your mother said to tell you hi, and, well, never mind what else she said,” Mabel said, her words dying slowly in a quiet mutter.

  Caroline’s body stiffened at the mention of her mother. Her expression hardened, showing a side of Caroline Annis hadn’t seen before. “I never mind the things she says,” she said coldly, her gaze drifting to Homer, who seemed to purposely be tuning out the conversation by staring blankly toward the back of the tent, where the rest of the crew was causing the usual pre-show commotions.

  Sensing the need to change the topic and shift the intensity into a more manageable and lighthearted chatter, Annis blurted, “Should we tell Sawyer they’re here for him?”

  “Who’s here for me?” he asked, strolling over in his usual carefree manner at the sound of his name. Annis found it hard to believe he could really be completely oblivious to the trouble he’d caused. In all likelihood, he just wasn’t bothered by it. Or, even more likely, he was pleased with himself.

  “The police,” Caroline informed him sternly. “Want to tell us what you did so we know how to protect you?”

  He shrugged, mischief blazing in his eyes as he fought back a smirk. “Didn’t do anything. Was just walking about. Not my fault no one ever looks down.”

  “Is it your fault then when you don’t look up?” Maude said. “You know, to read all the signs which so clearly indicate where you are and are not allowed to just be walking about.”

  He tossed his hands up, pleading innocence. “Signs are meant to be at eye level. If it’s important, they should make sure it’s posted where everyone can see.”

  “It’s true,” Homer added. “It’s the same rule I live by where signs are concerned. If I can’t see it, I don’t have to follow it.”

  Caroline, trying not to laugh, poked his side with her elbow. “You stay out of this. You’re just encouraging him.”

  “Also,” Maude said to Homer, “I don’t think they would have minded much if you’d walked into their private parlors and dressing rooms. Nor would anyone have felt too put out over you taking in a free performance in the saloon when everyone else had to pay to watch the dancers on stage. Some of those posted rules really don’t much apply to you.”

  “Ah, the silver lining of being a blind man,” Homer mused. “Always there, hiding in plain sight, isn’t it?”

  Annis had to cover her mouth to muffle the laughter.

  “Why do you all always look so guilty when I walk up?” Hugh asked, joining the small crowd gathered around the curtain.

  “Because you taught us well,” Caroline quipped.

  “And now I live to regret it,” Hugh countered, looming over them. One of his long arms reached around to take the curtain from Annis and Caroline and zipped it shut. “Don’t you lot have a show to
be ready for? Or did the audience out there escape your attention whilst you were over here rehashing the chaos that followed you home from the city?” He cast a disapproving glance down at Sawyer. “Oh, yes, Smalls. I heard.”

  “Be honest, Poppy,” Sawyer said, grinning. “You’re not really surprised I became a wanted man in less than the course of an afternoon.”

  “I suppose some days being wanted is all that matters,” Maude teased as she and Mabel began to walk away from the huddle. “Even if you are only wanted by the law.”

  “Alright, alright,” Hugh said, waving his hands for Sawyer to stop before he started to deliver his retort. “I’m walking out there in exactly ten seconds. I expect everyone to be ready and to follow on their cues.” He stood taller, squaring his shoulders and fixing his top hat. “Annis, love, hand me that cane, would you?” he asked, pointing at a long black cane with a white tip that leaned against a stack of crates behind her.

  “Don’t you mean wand?” she asked, handing it over to him with a broad smile as she recalled their chat about his mysterious, magical ways, which he’d denied, of course.

  He tapped her head with the cane playfully. “Shush.” Then he spun on his heal, took a deep breath, and walked out. He proceeded to take the circus arena by storm with his whirlwind of sensationalized speech, his waves of theatrical gestures, and his abounding thunderous energy.

  When Annis turned around, all but one of the others had dispersed to busy themselves with last-minute preparations before it was their turn to enter the ring. Homer was still standing beside her, a contented smirk resting on his face as his hands played with a dagger, flipping it over, again and again, and catching it perfectly every time.

  “Not making you nervous, am I?” he asked, clearly sensing he’d drawn her attention.

  “No.” An entirely true statement, she realized, even as she said it. “Oddly enough, I’m completely at ease being within inches of your flying blades.”