Vagabond Circus Series Boxed Set

by Sarah Noffke

She nodded. “None of it is true. It’s all potential truths. Potential realities depending on which way the wind blows, what someone else does, and what I have to eat for breakfast tomorrow.”

  He smiled, showing a mouthful of braces. “I see you’ve played this little game before.”

  Ian’s parents hadn’t wanted him to have braces growing up because it was a cosmetic thing. They also didn’t want to shell out the money for the expense. After he came to Vagabond Circus he saved up enough money for orthodontics to fix his buckteeth. His parents ridiculed him about it every time he visited and also about the fact that he’d turned down the opportunity to go into banking like his father.

  “All right, you know how this works,” he said, holding out his calloused hands.

  Zuma nodded and offered both her hands to Ian. It was when he touched another person that things about their future were sparked in his mind. It had been like this since he was thirteen and tried to hold Molly’s hand. They had synagogue together and spent most of that time giggling in the back. He grabbed the young girl’s hand one morning and had been assaulted by a vision of Molly stepping out onto the road without looking. A car swerved, missing Molly, but it still hit a tree, killing the driver in the vehicle. However, because of what Ian told Molly about his vision, that never happened and that driver was still alive to this day.

  Ian wrapped both his hands around Zuma’s, which were hardened like his but from the flying trapeze. Zuma’s hands were long and slender in contrast to his. He sucked in a breath. Zuma watched as Ian’s eyes roamed around under his closed lids, like he was watching a movie inside his head. After only ten seconds his eyes sprung open. With a jerk he pulled his hands from her, a new stress in his eyes.

  “What?” she said, sensing his concern.

  “It’s nothing. I mean…you know how this stuff goes?” Ian said.

  “But you have information for me, don’t you?” she said, leaning forward, careful to keep herself hidden inside the cloak.

  He nodded, his shoulders slumping a little. “You have to trust Finley enough…”

  “What? Enough for what?”

  “You have to trust him enough that…he drops you.”

  “What?” Zuma straightened suddenly, a cold chill zipping down her back. “He’s going to drop me? Like during a show?”

  “No,” Ian said, looking to the side like examining the vision in his head. “I think this is during a rehearsal.”

  “Why would I want him to drop me?”

  “Because it changes everything,” Ian said.

  “I don’t understand. I have to trust him enough and then he ends up dropping me and that changes everything?”

  “Yes,” Ian said, a strange weight in his eyes now. “It puts things in motion that have to occur.”

  “But we don’t know what has to occur. We’re always guessing,” Zuma said.

  “I feel strongly that this is important,” he said with a new conviction in his voice. “It’s not ideal, it’s not pretty, but it’s an important catalyst.”

  “You realize it’s going to be hard for me to rehearse now?” Zuma said, a shudder vibrating across her shoulders.

  “You aren’t hurt physically,” he said, and the implications hung between them.

  “But his mistake of dropping me, it sets something in motion?” she asked, needing to confirm every detail of this.

  “It is no mistake,” Ian said in a hush.

  “He drops me on purpose?” she said too loud.

  “Just put this out of your mind and trust him. It’s imperative that you do, that he drops you,” Ian said with that too-wise look in his eyes. His vision was a burden and it made him look older than he was.

  Zuma was certain there would be no forgetting this information. There was already too much mystery surrounding Finley and now this potential reality made her heart palpitate. She offered her hands to Ian. “Will you look again? Maybe you missed something.”

  He shook his head roughly. “I didn’t,” he said, turning his gaze away from her hands like they made him ill suddenly.

  “Ian, what is it?”

  “It’s a future that has to come to pass, Zuma. And it brings you much sorrow before giving you the opposite.”

  “Then why do you look so sad?”

  “Because the things that affect you at Vagabond Circus tend to affect us all,” he said, his voice eerie.

  Zuma rose slowly from her seat and gave Ian a look he saw too often: reluctant acceptance. It was difficult for people to hear their future and have the tools to shape it. This was mainly because the tools involved doing the last thing they wanted and Ian knew that for Zuma to trust Finley was almost impossible. Still, it was critical. The future of Vagabond Circus rested on the well-sculpted shoulders of the two acrobats.

  Chapter Forty-One

  The warm spotlight glowed down on Zuma. She stood on the side of the ring playing the character of the sheltered girl who had escaped the cage she’d been locked into almost every night. She’d already met many creatures of the night, all proving to be entertaining rather than dangerous, as her father had warned. The girl was searching quite melodramatically for a new animal who would enchant her as the others had done. She turned in one direction and a loud drum sounded, making her jump and retreat two steps. Then she turned in the other direction and another bang of a drum stopped her. The acrobat crouched down low, the orchestra playing a spooky arrangement that flowed perfectly with her jumpy movements.

  She ran, a series of graceful steps, and stopped suddenly. A curious look lit up her face. With a tentative hand she glided her palm over something. Zuma pressed down on what appeared to be invisible and her hand sprang back. With a look of delight the acrobat placed her hand on the invisible thing again and then hopped up onto it. It was then that the lights shone fully on the wire that the audience couldn’t see before. Like a kid exploring a toy for the first time she practiced a few steps on top of the tight wire, which was only three feet off the ground. Zuma played with the bounce. Shuffled forward and back and then spun herself around. She was elegant on the wire, moving like she would through water. Her arms flowed, her legs swam across the wire, never losing balance.

  But in the shadows something appeared. The girl Zuma was playing didn’t see the presence watching, but the audience did. A few in the audience pointed. A kid in the crowd tapped his mom. “Look!” he said, his voice too loud.

  Finley moved to the side of the wire, his suit a dark blue, an elegant contrast to Zuma’s pale green costume. His was the color of a darkening sky, hers the color of grass coated in morning dew. Zuma now overflowed with confidence on the wire and leapt along it, sashaying after the move and then jumping straight in the air, one leg coming up behind her and her arms reaching behind her head to grab it before landing again with perfect precision. She didn’t see Finley at her back, crouched down on the end platform where the wire was tethered. He reached down and grabbed the wire and shook it. Zuma startled, almost losing her balance.

  Whipping around she fumbled on the wire backwards at the sight of the monster. She played the character so well, acting frightened at just the perfect time. This was what the girl’s father had protected her from. She held out a hand at the beast and it hissed in return. Then it jumped onto the wire, sending her straight into the air. But she landed back on it in a crouch, her hand reaching down between her bent legs to grab the wire, tethering her to it. On the monster’s next bounce she grabbed the wire with both hands and her hips came down on it as she spun around the wire, before coming off it in a flip like a gymnast dismounting the uneven bar.

  Finley jumped straight in the air then flew down on the wire and bounced high before throwing himself into a full twist with a front flip also dismounting from the apparatus. He landed just before Zuma, who played the terrified girl. He bowed to her, offering his outstretched hand. Zuma paused, searching him by trying to look at his shielded face. Finally she reached for his hand and once their grips clasped he wrest
led her to the ground, and that’s when the fight scene of their act officially began.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  The audience was silent when Finley and Zuma’s act morphed into a dance of two lovers’ hearts united. Every eye was trained on them, hypnotized by the pair who moved like water flowed. Only Sunshine was aware of how many audience members were close to tears, feeling the overwhelming emotion under the big top. She watched with Dave and Jack from the side of the curtain. Dave had asked her to scan the emotions of patrons throughout the night to get a barometer of how the new show was working. And the girl would soon report to the ringmaster that never before had the audience had such heightened emotions. And during the finale every emotion was hanging on a hinge, ready to burst open.

  Sunshine prepared herself for the cacophony of feelings that would assault her when the act ended. She pulled her eyes to Finley, who had just caught Zuma in his arms, completing the last trick of their act. The audience seemed to suck in a collective breath all at once. Finley slid his leg around Zuma’s leg, encouraging her back as he had done during every practice. She arched her spine as he dipped her down low. The pair slid together, Finley in a deep lunge, Zuma’s arms tied around his neck.

  They held the pose for a three count as Titus had asked. Three seconds where Finley allowed the adrenaline of finishing his first show to rocket through his veins. Three long seconds where the applause he’d earned during the show reverberated in his chest. Three seconds where he stared down at Zuma and realized she made him feel more emotion than the adrenaline and the applause combined. She owned him. And automatically he wrenched her to him and covered her mouth with his. She sensed the kiss coming but didn’t know how to react with over a thousand eyes watching her, so she just gasped against his lips, sucking him in.

  Zuma tightened her arms around his neck, assaulted by the tremor that ran down her body. All this happened inside of a few seconds and then Finley pulled away, drawing Zuma to a standing position. Their hands were clasped in each other’s as they bowed low to the loudest and longest applause the Vagabond Circus had ever earned. Then they turned in unison, hands still connected, and took another bow to the other side of the ring. Kids jumped up and down. Women pushed glistening tears from their cheeks. Zuma scanned the crowd, taking in the faces of every patron, all smiling, cheering, and overflowing with excitement. The lights faded on them and Finley dropped her hand as they ran in complete darkness to the back curtain. When they were through it the houselights dawned on a crowd who would never forget the show they just watched.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Finley wasn’t even completely on the other side of the curtain before Zuma twisted around and shoved him in the chest, knocking him lightly into the blue velvet behind him.

  “What in the hell was that?” she said and her voice wasn’t as angry as she tried to make it. She sounded curious. Zuma wanted to feel violated, but she couldn’t make herself. That kiss had a pureness to it.

  He stared down at her, his mouth pinched together, a weight in his eyes. He was battling something inside himself that didn’t exist in most. A torture of overpowering emotions.

  “Well?” she said when he didn’t respond, didn’t look like he could. Finley’s eyes just stayed tight on her, which was why he didn’t see the blur of movements that Zuma saw. From the side, Jack bolted through the space and raised his hand and punched Finley across the face. Finley should have moved fast enough to deflect it, but his focus was overwhelmed by the angry expression on Zuma’s face. She appeared to be mad at him; however, she had kissed him back, cinched her arms around his neck and pulled him into her. Breathed him in. He didn’t understand. He also didn’t know why he did it in the first place. Everything was unexplainable when it came to Zuma.

  Finley hardly stumbled back from Jack’s punch, although it had incredible force behind it. Finley was used to being punched. Assaulted. He knew how to take it with little effect.

  Frantically Zuma grabbed one of Jack’s arms and pulled him away. Jack stared at Finley with a look of complete disdain. Another abuse Finley was used to.

  “Where do you get off doing something like that? You know Zuma can’t stand you. Why would you take advantage of her in front of the audience?” Jack said, his voice a hush but his words hot.

  Finley hardly heard all that Jack said. His eyes were on Zuma, who had her hands wrapped around Jack’s arm still, encouraging him to calm down.

  “That’s not true. You don’t despise me,” Finley said to Zuma.

  She dropped her gaze, unable to stomach the brutal pain in Finley’s eyes. Still, she felt echoes of the tremor his kiss caused deep inside her. Never before had an experience produced that reaction. Not even the flying trapeze, which gave her a high like no other.

  “Jack,” Dave said from behind him, a caution in his voice. “Why don’t you leave the big top and cool down.”

  Jack turned, Zuma letting his arm drop. There behind them stood Dave, who was only a few inches taller than Zuma. He wasn’t wearing his normal jovial smile but rather under his frayed top hat he had a serious expression. It looked all wrong on his face, like a dog with cat ears.

  “But—” Jack said.

  “I understand you’re angry, but we do not conduct ourselves in that way,” Dave said and even Zuma flinched from the sternness in his voice. There had to be nothing worse than to earn the ringmaster’s disapproval, she thought. And for Jack, this would be a curse. “Go to your trailer and I don’t want you at tonight’s festivities. We will discuss this in Portland, you and me,” Dave said, his voice full of authority.

  “Dave, you can’t let this go—” Jack began.

  “And Jack, I don’t intend to. But this is my circus, and my issue to handle. This matter concerns you no longer, is that clear?”

  Jack closed his eyes and nodded.

  “Now please leave me to discuss this matter,” Dave said, his voice lightening an octave. “Zuma, you are free to go as well.”

  Jack turned and walked a few paces, but he paused as soon as he realized Zuma wasn’t by his side. She was standing still. She hadn’t gone with him. He gave her a confused look.

  Zuma turned her gaze to Dave. “I’m staying.”

  Dave nodded his consent. “Very well.” He swiveled his head to Jack, who was watching dumbfounded. “Go on now. Go cool off,” Dave said, his voice calm but insistent.

  Jack’s last look was at Zuma, who was staring at him with consoling eyes. Then he whipped around and stormed off. And this time he wouldn’t argue with Zuma if she called it “storming off.”

  Jack was furious. Everything during the first new show had gone perfectly and it put an unbearable weight on his chest. To watch the crowd respond to Finley the way they did, with more surprise and amazement than he ever received, was a knife right under his breast bone. It created a searing pain and he pressed his hand there, rubbing on the ache. And now Finley had kissed Zuma, in front of the circus and its patrons. Finley knew what her lips felt like. Knew what she tasted like. Two things Jack had wanted to know since he set his eyes on her over three years ago. What burned Jack up wasn’t that Finley was taking what had belonged to him. Finley was taking that which Jack never had and always wanted.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  “The rules were made clear to you when you came to Vagabond Circus,” Dave said to Finley, his voice firm.

  Behind him Titus was clearing the back area of performers, encouraging them to change and toddle off to the after-party. He was grateful that Dave was intervening and not him. How uncomfortable this tense situation must be for someone to deal with. People kissing. People hitting each other. Relationships. Titus shivered with unease. “No thanks,” he said under his breath. The memories of the relationships that tore the circus apart almost twenty years ago were still fresh in his mind. Nothing was a bigger motivator than love. It made people happy. It made them depressed. It made people challenge themselves. It made them different people. It made them kill. There
’s a reason domestic violence is the most frequent, Titus thought. Love makes people insane.

  In the main big top area patrons were filing out of the exit. Excited voices discussed the various acts, Zuma and Finley the topic of most people’s conversations. They were undoubtedly the favorite act. Girls twirled as they exited, pretending to be jumping into the arms of a waiting Finley.

  “Mom, can I put a pink streak in my hair?” a girl asked, skipping beside her mother.

  Another child heard the request and soon every little girl was asking for a new hairdo. Someone would have made a fortune selling pink hair dye by the gates of Vagabond Circus.

  “You made the rules implicitly clear,” Finley finally said to Dave’s question.

  “And is it also clear to you that when I said no relationships among circus members that that meant no necking?” Dave said, holding his gloved hands out, exasperated.

  Zuma’s stomach turned over from the use of the word “necking.” Is there a worse word, she thought with a grimace. There definitely wasn’t a more humiliating way to describe a simple kiss.

  “Yes, I’m aware that’s implied,” Finley said, his chin held high, eyes mostly on Dave, although he caught Zuma’s look of revulsion.

  Dave dropped his hands to his side and they clapped on his legs. “I’m a bit overwhelmed by this one, Finley. You’ve broken both my rules in one setting and I don’t really know how to handle it. This was our best show ever and you’re mostly responsible for that, but that doesn’t mean I can excuse such behavior.”

  “Sir,” Finley said, his eyes confused. “How did I break both rules by what I did?”

  “Well, it was hugely disrespectful to force yourself onto Zuma,” Dave said, matter-of-factly. “And then there’s Jack’s feelings to consider, which I’m certain you did not do.”

  “Wait, I didn’t force myself on Zuma,” Finley said. “She didn’t push me away.”