by Sarah Noffke
They all gave him attentive stares.
“Two actually,” Dr. Chang amended. “How do you know Nurse Fanny and why did she retire?”
“Would you believe she ran away with the circus?” Zuma said with a half-smile.
The doctor waved his skinny hand at her. “Never mind, don’t tell me. It’s none of my business, now is it?”
Zuma smiled down at Jack. “Are you ready to go?” she said.
He nodded. Jack was in much better spirits than he was the night before. Zuma thought it was maybe the drugs, but whatever it was he appeared to be a different person. He wasn’t sulking, didn’t seem to be bottling any negative emotions.
What only Jack knew was that in the night he was visited by a warm and comforting presence. He truly didn’t understand what or who it was, but its message seemed to be clear. This theft will give you your greatest gift. He awoke to find he couldn’t cry about this new turn of events, and he didn’t want to. Didn’t need to. For some reason the message made perfect sense as the words sunk into his heart.
Before the assault on his legs, no, Jack didn’t have it all. But when he could walk he’d been pushing himself and never felt that he’d ever reach a place of satisfaction. Unlike the complaints Zuma made, Jack knew happiness but if happiness was liking what you got he’d never really known that. He’d never had what he truly wanted. Self-acceptance.
Even when he commanded the attention of every audience member in the big top he didn’t approve of himself. Now he couldn’t walk. To love himself now would be a true challenge; however, he was determined to walk again and then how couldn’t he love himself fully? He’d truly be a superhero then. The one Dave Raydon had always believed in. The one the ringmaster saw in Jack.
He smiled back at his friend. “Yeah, I’m ready to go.” He then turned and shook the hand of the doctor. “Thank you,” he said.
“You’re welcome. I expect to hear from you soon,” Dr. Chang said, before turning and walking through the automatic doors of the hospital.
Zuma had already taken the reins of his wheelchair. “So,” she said, staring at Jack’s legs both in casts. “I think you’re going to have to ride in the backseat.” She then steered him to her Audi in the pickup area of the hospital.
Finley had parked Titus’s Prius right behind her car. He’d picked it up that morning and agreed to bring it back to the circus. He hadn’t liked that retrieving the car had put him in close proximity to Knight’s compound. He’d actually awoken early and taken a taxi out there, afraid Zuma would insist on going with him. He kept picturing Sebastian or Power-Stopper lurking by the car ready to apprehend Finley and cart him back to Knight. He had wanted to confront his old master about the curse, but on his own terms. Now to be apprehended would put him back in the subservient role. He had shivered, thinking of what that would do to his spirit.
“Uhhmmm,” Jack said, a hesitation in his voice, “I think I’ll be more comfortable stretched out in the back of the Prius because it has the hatchback. We can put the seats down and I’ll have a bed back there. Dr. Chang thought it was the best idea for transport too.”
“Oh, okay,” Zuma said, redirecting the chair. “Yeah, I guess that’s fine. I can drive the Prius. Finley,” she said, looking at him leaning on the car, “would you drive my car?”
Before he could reply, Jack said, “Actually, I want to ride with Finley.”
“What?” Zuma and Finley said together.
“You do?” Zuma said.
“Yeah,” Jack said, nodding. “I have all sorts of questions for this guy,” he said, pointing at Finley, no offense in the gesture. In a light voice he said, “One of them being about his intentions with my girl of stone.”
Zuma was about to protest when Finley laughed, one so open and welcoming Zuma paused.
“That’s an easy answer. My only intention is to love her and give her all of me. That is, when she allows me to and doesn’t berate me for being all-around flawless,” Finley said.
“You’re a dreamer, aren’t you?” Zuma said.
“I am,” he said, extending a hand to her. She didn’t hesitate before taking it and snaking her arms around his neck.
“I’ll be at the back checking out my digs for the long ride. You two hurry it up with the goodbyes,” Jack said. His life as an acrobat made Jack instantly comfortable with the wheelchair, even with both his legs protruding out in front of him making for a clearance challenge. He popped open the trunk and regarded the space he’d ride in for twelve hours. Oh well, either he’d be lying down in a hospital bed no closer to an option or he’d be lying in this trunk on his way to Fanny the healer.
On the other side of the car Zuma was regarding Finley with a raw fascination.
“What?” he said in response to the look, his hands on her waist.
“Just shocked by a lot of things right now,” she said.
“Like how far we’ve come?” he said, pulling her closer. It had started the moment she took down the wall, built so faultily between them. The one that had always been doomed to crumble. The one that no matter what Finley had done and was responsible for, she couldn’t keep up.
“That and more,” she said, smiling at his need to always have her closer.
“Are you going to share?”
“Oh, like you share with me,” she said, suppressing a laugh.
“I’m working on it,” he said and leaned in so their noses were almost touching.
“I realize that and I realize we have a lot more work to do,” Zuma said.
“But you’re willing?” he said.
For some reason unknown to Zuma she was. She had been willing to risk her position at Vagabond Circus before Dave died to be with Finley. And now she was willing to keep working until she fully forgave him for his connection to Dave’s murder. “I’m here, aren’t I?” she said.
“Yeah, and I don’t get the impression you’re about to clock me for what I’m about to do, so that’s a huge improvement,” he said.
“What are you about to do?” she said, her mouth smiling up close to his.
“Whatever, ninja girl, don’t pretend you don’t know,” he said and slid his mouth against hers. She tightened her arms around his neck as he gripped her hips pressing her into him. For a long ten seconds Zuma forgot the world that existed around them. The parking lot and people and the hospital around them ceased momentarily to exist. The two only gave audience to their mouths pressing together, their lips sliding over each other’s, their arms clinging to one another. Zuma had only felt that way one other specific time, when she’d been in Finley’s arms and teleported through space and time.
A cough from the other side of the car paused the two. Finley smiled, his mouth still up close to Zuma’s. “Yes?” he said, his eyes hinged on the girl in his arms.
“Soon I’m going to be able to catch you again on trapeze, Finley, but until then, can I have a little help getting into this car?” Jack said.
Finley pressed his mouth once more into Zuma’s before breaking away. “You got it, bud,” he said to Jack.
Chapter Seventy-Three
Fanny had carved a path in the overgrown field in the back lot. For over an hour she’d paced ten feet, promptly spun around where the grass was too thick, and then trudged back the other way ten steps. Again and again. Over and over for a solid sixty minutes. She hadn’t started a new exercise regimen, although that had been on her list of goals. She was pacing now for the sole purpose to expend the nervous energy in her chest. The caregiver’s charges were again being supervised by Sunshine. Fanny hadn’t asked for this much coverage in years, but right then she just couldn’t focus on the kids. Her thoughts were elsewhere. Consumed with a worry she never thought she’d have to deal with ever again.
What plagued the woman wasn’t the information that only she knew and was responsible for. That was quite the burden, but it was an easy one to bear in comparison to her other worries. Yes, she would have liked to have someone whom she could sh
are the information with and receive counsel from, but the time for that was too late. Years ago maybe she could have come clean, but now it was too late, for too many reasons.
What plagued Fanny more than the information was the timing. It had been all wrong. She’d been so close to unveiling it to Dave. She was literally going to do it the very day she had learned of his death. She’d been waiting. Waiting until she’d made enough observations. When Fanny had started to piece together the information she now knew to be true, it was unfathomable to her. Only God could have orchestrated something so amazing and unbelievable and slightly cruel. So Fanny knew she had to confirm her suspicions before telling Dave. She waited until she had time to conduct a few tests. And when she’d completed those, it happened to be one day too late. Maybe it was for the best. The news she had to tell might have broken Dave. That’s the other reason she’d hesitated. Fanny knew the ringmaster was strong, but could he really handle this new turn of events? A retelling of his history?
And then she also worried for the other person this news would affect. Fanny was in the position to divulge news that could heal and also shatter lives. It was too much of a burden for the healer, but she knew that she must shoulder it. She, in truth, was the holder of this secret because she was responsible for it. Too many years ago she’d made decisions that led to this and she had to accept the responsibility for her actions. But now Fanny wouldn’t be divulging it to Dave. Now she’d have to do something that was so unlike her: she’d have to play a very dangerous game using this prized knowledge. Fanny was used to being loving and honest and giving, and now she’d have to be strategic if she was going to save Vagabond Circus. She would divulge the secret but not all of it at once. She’d tell the history in a way people would believe and if she did it right then she’d fix the horrible problem that was hovering over Vagabond Circus.
Her heart ached, though, for the one person whom she’d have to use to accomplish this. In one way he’d learn that he wasn’t born from a test tube and she thought that would bring him some comfort. But then Fanny would have to follow that up by telling Finley who his real parents were.
Chapter Seventy-Four
“Are you comfortable back there?” Finley asked, his eyes on the rearview mirror which was aimed at Jack.
“It’s like the Four Seasons hotel back here,” Jack said, fluffing up one of the many pillows Zuma had packed for him and sticking it behind his head. “Just don’t hit any bumps.”
“No guarantees about that, but I’ll let you know when they’re coming up. Then you can make the car levitate above them,” Finley said and spied Jack shake his head.
“Firstly, intense pain meds prevent my gift from working. Apparently they take away my ability to be real lucid,” Jack said, a bit disgruntled.
“So, I gather you’ve tried?”
“That’s how I thought I could get myself into the back of the car without your help,” Jack said and shrugged. “But that’s fine, the meds aren’t a permanent part of my routine.”
“Yeah, it’s only day four,” Finley said, sympathy in his voice.
“And secondly, I can’t levitate anyone but myself,” Jack said.
“What if I told you that there’s a possibility that you could,” Finley said. He caught the sudden attentive look Jack gave him. “I was able to teleport Zuma and myself into Knight’s compound. That’s how we bypassed the traps.”
“What? I would have thought that was impossible,” Jack said, his eyes going wide as the idea sunk in.
“You’d think so, but laws govern our gifts. Figure them out and you can usually do a lot more than you think.”
“You know, Finley, you’re a pretty sharp guy.”
Finley didn’t respond but just smiled inside.
“I wonder what the laws are that govern my levitation skill,” Jack said, his eyes on the ceiling.
“My guess is your thoughts and your proximity to something. I bet you can levitate anything that you’re touching.”
“Like this car?” Jack said, a disbelieving laugh in his voice.
Finley shrugged. “Maybe. I wouldn’t discount it. But if you can then I’m not certain for how long. It’s taxing.”
“Hmmm…” Jack pondered, staring out the window to watch smooth, rolling hills pass by. From the distance they looked silky enough to slide down but they were probably rough with dried grass and rocks.
Finley adjusted the rearview mirror momentarily to check that Zuma was still close behind them.
“Can I ask you a question about Knight?” Jack asked, his tone having shifted to one of caution.
“Yeah, but just so you know I may not answer it,” Finley said, moving the mirror back so he could see Jack.
“Come on, man. I met the guy. I looked into his cold dark eyes. Watched as he stared down at me with contempt before leaving me to die,” Jack said.
Finley’s posture relaxed, but only slightly. “What’s the question?”
“He can hurt people’s minds, and Zuma tells me he can curse people too. Can he do anything else?” Jack asked.
“He can manipulate objects.”
“Like telekinesis? Like the triplets’ gift?” Jack asked.
“No, he can’t move objects, he can manipulate them. Like he can tear a warehouse wall in two, making it tumble to the ground. He can bend metal with his mind. Shatter glass. Splinter a wooden board in two. He can’t move anything, but he can manipulate it.” Jack noticed a cold haunting spring into Finley’s eyes which he saw reflected in the rearview mirror.
“He did that, didn’t he? And you witnessed it? He tore down a wall in his compound? Were kids hurt?”
Finley shrugged, the memory of little bodies being crushed etched in his forever memory.
“Why does he use kids?” Jack asked. “He could control adults, right?”
“I think kids are just easier to control. However, I’m certain he’s smart enough to figure out how to leverage control on anyone. And he does control the surrogates, who are adults,” Finley said.
“Surrogates?”
“The ones who carried the babies. And then they manage them after that.”
Jack shivered. “It’s so bizarre that he harvests babies to create a Dream Traveler army of thieves.”
“I don’t think any babies have been created in a few years,” Finley said, scrunching up his eyes as he tried to think if he’d encountered any babies or toddlers in recent years at the compound.
“I wonder why.”
Finley shrugged. “Maybe Knight has as many kids as he needs with the right skill sets. Maybe he doesn’t need any more right now.”
“What happened if a child didn’t have a useful skill set?” Jack asked, the question popping into his head.
Finley didn’t answer the question, but Jack read the answer in his eyes.
“So how does he control the adults? The surrogates?”
Finley hesitated. He didn’t like talking about this. Didn’t like that this knowledge was a part of his history. He had been one of those babies born from a surrogate. And he hoped that now that he was away from Knight and his compound he could finally stop carrying the shame. In truth, Finley knew the way he came into this world wasn’t his fault, but it still made him feel dirty. He blew out a long breath and decided that he’d answer this and maybe one more question. “I think one of the surrogates is actually infatuated with Knight. The others are afraid of him. They don’t know freedom, or how to survive on their own. When a person can’t fully care for themselves they will suffer abuse to avoid the fear of the unknown. That one thing, the unknown, is worse than anything else for prisoners. They’d rather have the certainty of pain and neglect than the uncertainty of a new life.”
Jack shivered from this idea and the eloquence of it all. “That’s what keeps able bodies with gifts like that girl with the red hair under Knight’s control, isn’t it?”
“Power-Stopper, that’s her names. And yes. But also the fact that if you go against Knig
ht he’ll punish you with a curse,” Finley said.
“But not you. You’re not afraid of Knight. You escaped.”
Finley went silent, his eyes intensely pinned on the road.
After a long few minutes of silence Jack said, “So you and Zuma, huh?”
Again Finley didn’t respond.
“I’m not surprised you’re in love with her. Everyone is,” Jack said. “What astonishes me is that she actually seems to be into you.”
Finley allowed a laugh to escape his mouth. “Excuse me. Why is that so astonishing? I’m amazing.”
“You’re all right,” Jack said. “But it’s astonishing because Zuma is pretty indifferent about most people. I’ve never seen her affected by anyone. Not like with you. It’s like you have her under a spell,” Jack said with a laugh.
Finley didn’t laugh. That one sentence hit too close to home for him, but he wasn’t about to share with Jack that Zuma was in fact cursed. “Well, I don’t get it either, but I’d do anything to protect her. It’s been like that since the beginning. Differently than most who are infatuated with her, I’m not just drawn to Zuma. I feel responsible for her like we are connected by something.”
“That’s beautiful,” Jack said, a joke in his tone. “Are there barf bags back here?”
The car suddenly swerved a few feet, the tires running over the reflectors dividing the lane, jolting the car slightly.
“Hey, man!” Jack said, reaching for his bandaged legs.
“Oops,” Finley said with a clever grin on his face.
Jack rolled his eyes, not looking too peeved. “Well, seriously, man,” he said, the laugh fading from his voice. “I think you might actually be able to make Zuma happy.”
“Believe me, Jack, it’s my greatest mission to do so.” I’ll die trying, he thought to himself and meant it.
Another long silence passed and then Jack said, “Uh, hey?”
“Yeah.”