by Sarah Noffke
Ian watched from the side as the big top shrunk. This was always a poetically sad part of every location to him. The big top deflating symbolized death to him. The end of another round of shows. The last part of the life of this big top. The same big top would be reborn in another city. It would rise into the air, like the phoenix, but it would never be like this tent, with its backdrop and its smells and its winds.
A tear peeked out at the corner of his eyes as he scanned through the vision he’d gotten from Zuma. He hadn’t told her all of it. He couldn’t. And although he realized he owned the information to stop something tragic from happening, he couldn’t. Bad things had to happen. People had to die. Sometimes he told people enough to change things, but he’d learned how to filter the information. He’d used his instincts to direct him. And he knew that Zuma needed to allow something to happen so that other things would occur. He was navigating a future by telling her part of her fortune, but not the rest. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to intervene, it was that other visions of the future told him that it was time for this brutal reality to take place. And that night Dave and Ian had discussed it and made a decision. The ringmaster had asked him to follow his instinct, allowing the visions to direct his decisions from here on out.
He’d felt that same instinct eleven years ago and ignored it. He told Molly about the accident she caused. And she didn’t step into the street the next day. And the driver of the car didn’t die; instead, he went home that evening and murdered his wife. Sometimes fortunes need to be told and sometimes they don’t, and sometimes only part of them. And sometimes they need to be told to one person and not another. Ian didn’t feel like a God shelling out this information, intervening in lives and futures. He felt burdened and wished that he would have been born like his Middling father, with only the gift to manage money. His real mother, not his stepmother, had been a Dream Traveler and she’d still be alive if she hadn’t taken her own life because she was like Ian, so burdened by the visions.
Chapter Forty-Nine
The Seattle Times
“The Vagabond Circus has changed, and for the better. This reporter didn’t think it could improve but it was like real fairy dust was sprinkled on every part of the circus. I left the show with a firm thought in my head: I’ll never see anything more spectacular than what I witnessed in these two hours. I’m not sure how, but last night’s show changed me. I feel like I’ve had an out-of-body experience, a soulful experience. I type this article at two in the morning. I can’t sleep. I’m too inspired. I’m too touched by the images I was gifted with tonight. It feels like I have new eyes. My life feels brand new. And I’m afraid to go to sleep right now, afraid I’ll miss something magical. I’ve been transported by this show and I’m frightened of touching back down in my old life."
Seattle Post
“The star of the show, a beautiful acrobat, must be a hunter because she captured my attention. And she’s definitely a thief because she stole my heart. The Vagabond Circus, without a doubt, delivers the most fantastic show in the universe.”
Chapter Fifty
When the Vagabond Circus stirred from their dream travels the next morning the big top was completely down and loaded into trucks. An urgent knock sounded at Dave’s door before the sun had even broken through the fog. Usually he liked his mornings quiet, reserved for meditation. Everyone knew that. He still would never allow a knock at his door to go unanswered. He was always available to Vagabond Circus. He pulled on his white gloves and opened the door to find Titus, who looked to be vibrating with excitement.
“All the shows in Portland are sold out!” he shouted at once.
Dave paused, tilted his head to the side. And then as Titus’s statement sunk in he slowly released a billowing laugh. It grew in intensity second by second until it became contagious and Titus joined in laughing too.
“That’s great!” Dave finally said, almost hopping down the stairs as he joined Titus on the grass.
Titus, who rarely smiled, looked like he might permanently have a grin on his face. At least as long as they were in Portland. “‘Great’ doesn’t even begin to describe it,” he said, his voice trembling with excitement. “Dave, with the profits we have on tickets alone we’ll be able to pull ourselves out of debt. By the time we reach California we are going to be running a billion-dollar venture. Venues are already asking that we add shows, which will undoubtedly sell out too.”
At this, the smile on Dave’s face faltered. “Well, you tell them we’re honored, but no.”
Titus’s face fell too. “What?! No. I told them yes.”
“Call them back. The answer is no,” Dave said, finality in his tone.
“But, Dave, don’t you see this is what we need to do to pull ourselves out of debt? And also this is key to how we’re going to make serious profits for once. We have to add more shows,” Titus said. His long forehead was creased and resembled open blinds in a window.
“I don’t want to make serious profits, Titus. I want to put on an extraordinary show and provide a happy environment for my circus family. Both of those goals are compromised if we add shows.”
“Dave, I think your judgment is clouded by your good intentions,” Titus said, careful to keep his voice down, although he was growing furious.
“There’s no such thing,” Dave said, a pure conviction in his voice. “My employees serve me with faith that I’ll make the best decisions for them. And that means I won’t put too much stress on everyone. They will perform no more than what is scheduled.”
“But Dave—”
The ringmaster held up a white glove. “My circus. My decision,” he said, and turned back to his trailer, leaving Titus tight-lipped and angry.
Chapter Fifty-One
Dave’s RV was the first to pull out, followed by the long caravan of Vagabond Circus. He always led the circus to the new locations. Portland was one of his favorites so it made sense that it was the place where they had their first sold-out shows. Vagabond Circus always had a full house because of its reputation, but it had never had a slew of sold-out shows. This was undoubtedly due to Finley being added to the acts. He was the missing ingredient. Dave had been searching for twenty long years and now he finally had it. The perfect circus. Vagabond Circus was complete. He knew one day he’d create a flawless show. He knew that one day all the talent would come together, complementing one another as only Dream Traveler gifts can do for one another. Dave smiled at the road, clear ahead of him. Then he fondly looked at the rearview mirror. The long caravan of trailers followed him. He’d finally done it. He could die now, a happy man. And he was prepared to do just that, if it brought about a better future for all.
Part II
Chapter Fifty-Two
Finley kept his promise. At the end of the next three shows in Portland he didn’t kiss Zuma. His gaze always locked on her brown eyes, his body attuned to the frequency of hers, like he read her from the inside out. And Zuma didn’t rip her eyes from his until he pulled her out of the dip, to a standing position.
Still, without the kiss at the end of the show, the audience erupted with applause to be heard blocks away. The reviews flowed in about the new show, and the upcoming performances in Beaverton, Salem, Eugene, and Medford all sold out while the Vagabond Circus was still in Portland.
Dave had never been happier, but Titus was still holding a grudge over their last argument. The creative director wasn’t the only one walking about with tense shoulders and a pinched face. It could have been their new success but everyone’s emotions were heightened at Vagabond Circus. Padmal was moodier, Fanny’s kids more restless, and Sunshine extra glum.
Most would have thought that Sunshine would find a way to be happy. She’d received her first standing ovation in Portland. The weird people of the city really appreciated her fire act, which usually left the audience breathless with fear.
“Let’s figure out what you did differently during that show and try and replicate it,” Dave said to her duri
ng rehearsal one afternoon.
She’d only gotten that one standing ovation and then none again for the last two shows. Dave was encouraging her to tweak her act for tonight’s performance.
“I don’t need the extra attention,” she said, a fiery look in her eyes.
“Oh, did the applause bring the forbidden emotion of happiness to your black heart?” Jasmine said from the sidelines underneath the big top.
Sunshine zipped her gaze in the direction of where the four acrobats were stretching. She then shot a beam of fire from her hand and it landed in the dirt just beside where Jasmine sat.
“What the hell?” the girl said, rolling to the side, although the fire disappeared into the dirt almost at once. “What’s your problem, Sunshine? It was just a joke.”
“I don’t like your jokes,” the pyrokinetic said. Sunshine felt the emotions in Dave building and then on cue they erupted.
“What has gotten into everyone?” he said, his voice bordering on yelling. He stared at Sunshine with a confused expression. Then he turned and shot the same look at Jasmine. “Rule number one,” he said with such severity. “Never, ever forget rule number one.”
Both girls nodded in unison.
Zuma widened her eyes at Jack, and then at Finley, both of whom had curious expressions. Jack and Finley hadn’t said a word about what happened after that first show and both seemed to have moved past it easily. Actually Zuma noticed that Finley and Jack got along without incident. She thought it was good for Jack to have a male acrobat on the team.
“I can’t do it any faster,” Padmal said on the other side of the tent, gaining the acrobats’ attention. She was practicing with Oliver, who looked taken aback by her sudden flare of anger.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I just meant—”
“I know what you meant and you’re pushing me and I’m tired of it. You’re doing what Dave is doing to Sunshine right now and I won’t put up with it.” Padmal had no idea that everyone had stopped to watch the fit she was throwing. She was too consumed by the fury she’d harbored for too long. It shot out like Sunshine’s fire flew out of her. “I don’t want to be in your act anymore!” she yelled at Oliver, who looked instantly heartbroken.
“But Padmal, I need you,” he said.
“No, you don’t,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Hey, my lovelies,” Dave said, striding over, “what seems to be the issue over here?”
Padmal turned to Dave, her brown eyes seeming to try to curse him. “Everything is the issue,” she said.
“Well, let’s talk about it,” Dave said in an encouraging voice.
Oliver looked from Padmal to Dave, his face a mixture of anger and embarrassment. “I think, Dave,” he said in a restrained voice, “that Padmal and I can sort this out on our own.”
Dave again gave that look of confusion. He was sincerely baffled by his performers. They had never acted with such diabolical emotions and it was bringing back a waking nightmare. Things needed to be scaled back a notch. He had to decelerate whatever was causing this tension. He cast his eyes to Finley. He wasn’t sure why he thought he had something to do with it. It was just strange timing, he told himself. But he wasn’t sure he believed that. There was something askew at the Vagabond Circus and he felt blinded to it. He knew because of Ian that dark days were ahead for the circus, but not yet. He still had time. Time to offer his support.
“Can I have everyone’s attention,” he said to the tent of performers. Everyone paused and turned their attention to the ringmaster. “We are all going to take a mandatory five-minute break. No working. No talking about work. Just put your mind at ease. It starts now.”
Around the tent various performers laid down props or abandoned their practice areas, trailing off to the refreshment table.
Dave strolled over to the mat where the acrobats were still lounging. They hadn’t needed a break since they rarely practiced between shows at Dave’s order. Their acts were perfect and he didn’t want Finley and Zuma overexerting themselves.
“What’s everyone’s problem?” Zuma said to him when he stopped by their area. He had set up his workstation beside them.
Dave grabbed his notebook with a heavy sigh. “I haven’t gotten a clue,” he said, studying Finley, who was the only one of the acrobats who didn’t have his eyes on Dave. He looked distracted by something in the crowd behind Dave. The ringmaster turned, but only found an assortment of performers chatting.
“Well, I apologize for my joke,” Jasmine said, grabbing the water bottle beside her and unscrewing the lid.
Dave noticed that the side of the bottle had “DR” written on it in black marker. His initials. His bottle of water. He was about to say something but Jasmine already had it pressed to her lips. I’ll just get a new drink, he thought. He didn’t want to embarrass her.
“You know, who you really need to apologize to is Sunny,” he said.
Jasmine nodded. “I will,” she said, scooting to her feet before trotting toward the pyrokinetic who was still sulking on the other side of the tent.
Dave watched, with curious eyes, the brief interaction between the two girls. It appeared to him that they were at least making a show of looking amenable to each other. Things will settle down, he told himself, once the excitement of the success wears off. That’s all it was.
Jasmine strode back through the crowd, something in her hands.
“Minnie, you are a sweetheart,” Dave said to her when she was close. “Always trying, aren’t you?”
“I admit that I’m pretty fabulous,” she said with a sideways smile. “And I’m helpful too. I intercepted a message from Titus. That older kid was looking for you so he could hand it off.” Jasmine then handed a crisp, folded piece of paper to Dave, who took it with a raised eyebrow. It wasn’t like Titus to send him notes. They both preferred to talk in person.
Finley stood suddenly, each of his movements a blur. No one really caught the look of fear that surfaced in his eyes before he sprinted through the tent. He had raced in the direction of Oliver and Padmal, who still looked to be arguing, although quietly. And only Zuma saw this, as everyone else was studying Dave’s confused face. Zuma knew a myriad of stressful thoughts were pouring through the ringmaster’s head, but she couldn’t help but keep her attention on Finley as he darted around the crowd, trying to find his way through the tent. Her attention was always inadvertently on Finley. His on her as well, most of the time. But now he was searching and then he was gone from her sight. Disappeared.
Dave brought his gaze back to Jasmine. “Thank you,” he said absentmindedly in Jasmine’s direction as he broke the seal on the paper. He opened it with a tight look and then scanned the contents, his face growing heavy with concern.
Zuma stood at once, reading the look in his eyes and the thoughts in his mind.
“What is it?” Jack said, standing too.
Dave shook his head with disbelief, dropped his hand to his leg, the letter with it. “It’s Titus’s letter of resignation.”
“What? That’s impossible,” Jack said, reaching for the letter, but he never got to it because in that moment Jasmine swayed, unsteady on her feet, and then fell to the mat, completely passed out.
Chapter Fifty-Three
“Jaz!” Zuma yelled, dropping to her knees beside her friend. Her fingertips went straight to Jasmine’s pulse on her wrist.
“What’s happened to her?” Jack said behind Zuma.
Dave leaned down, dropping the resignation letter on the ground, forgetting it at once. “Is she…?” he asked to Zuma, who had her ear down by Jasmine’s lips.
“She’s breathing, but it’s faint,” Zuma said and then she brought her shocked eyes up to find Finley returning, looking defeated. His gaze flashed to Jasmine and then to Zuma’s face.
“Go get Fanny,” she yelled to him. “As fast as you can.”
He nodded, a startled expression blanketing his face, and then disappeared in a blur of movement.
> There was nothing for Jack, Zuma, and Dave to do except sit next to Jasmine. They’d need to wait for Fanny to examine her. She had a medical degree and also the skill of healing. Performers were now turning their attention on the scene, but stayed back, sensing the seriousness of it.
Dave thought the wait would make him pass out as well, and then his eyes drifted to the water bottle lying on its side next to Jasmine. The initials on it burned like a branding on his heart: DR.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Zuma paced outside Jasmine’s trailer. Dave and Jack stood under a nearby tree sheltering themselves from the unrelenting July heat. Finley took turns watching Zuma and then Dave. He had left to fetch Fanny and returned faster than what for most would be humanly possible. He was a blur until he stopped beside Zuma. She hadn’t left Jasmine’s side until Fanny arrived and ordered the girl to be transported to her trailer. Finley and Jack had been elected for the job and to everyone’s astonishment Finley was hesitant to perform the duty. Finally Jack picked up the girl and tossed her over his shoulder. She hung limp in his arms. Zuma shot a confused look at Finley as they followed to Jasmine’s trailer.
“I can explain,” he mouthed.
“Are you going to?” she asked at his side.
“Not right now,” he deflected and hoped that she’d forget the whole thing and not bring it back up. He could explain but he really didn’t want to. There was so much Finley could explain, like why Jasmine was passed out in the first place. However, he didn’t dare. He was too far into this now. There was no going back. No changing plans. His eyes flicked up to Jasmine’s lifeless form. If she woke up she’d live. If she didn’t then she’d stay locked away in a coma forever or die immediately. Finley was certain there was nothing Fanny could do and so there was no point in telling anyone what he knew.