by Diane Zahler
“I have to be touching the person,” Mattie told her. “Or tiger. It’s okay. You didn’t think anything bad.”
“Okay,” Selena said, a little doubtfully. “But—what was the tiger thinking?”
Mattie closed her eyes, remembering. “She was so unhappy. I think she misses her home, wherever that is. I couldn’t tell. It was a forest somewhere. She was just really, really sad.”
“How awful.” Selena frowned. “I’ve never thought about how the tigers felt. That cage is so small. They must hate it.”
Mattie nodded.
“Wow,” Selena said quietly. “You can really read minds. That’s amazing. Isn’t it?”
“Sort of,” Mattie said. “Sometimes. Sometimes it’s horrible.”
“But it’s a secret? Why? You’d be really famous if people knew. You’d be on television and everything!”
“It’s the and everything part that’s a problem.” Mattie tried to think of the best way to explain it. “Think about it. People would go nuts. Everybody in the world would want to know what their friends or their husbands or their parents or their kids thought.”
Selena shuddered. “Oh boy, if my mother knew what I thought …”
“And maybe the police or something would want to know what suspects or criminals thought. And then the CIA would want to know what spies thought. I’d end up spending all my time reading nasty spies who’d tortured and killed people.”
Selena looked both horrified and fascinated.
“Or else maybe they’d want to study me. The government, I mean. So they could figure out how it works and give it to other people. Only—how would they study me? They’d have to put me in some awful room and hook things up to my brain and give me tests all the time. Or take it out.”
“Take what out?”
“My brain.”
Selena let out a little eep. “No, that’s crazy! They wouldn’t take out your brain!”
“Well, that’s the kind of thing I think about,” Mattie said. She didn’t tell Selena that was the kind of thing her parents talked about sometimes, when they thought the kids weren’t listening. It had been drummed into them since they were old enough to understand that no one must ever know.
And now she’d told Selena.
“What about the rest of your family?” Selena asked. “Your wagon says you read minds, and you really do. Do they do real stuff, too?”
Mattie gulped. She wasn’t prepared for this. “Oh—no, of course not!” she said. “It’s just me. I’m like—a mutant or something. Their acts are just ordinary.” It felt wrong, somehow, to lie to Selena, but she had to. It was bad enough that she’d told about her own talent.
Selena was quiet for a minute.
“I’m glad you told me,” she said finally. “I won’t tell anyone else, I promise. But … I’ve never had a friend who could read my mind before. It’s going to take some getting used to.”
“I understand,” Mattie said. Selena would think about it, and then she’d decide it was just too strange. And Mattie did understand. She wouldn’t want a friend knowing everything she thought either. She turned away, hunching her shoulders as protection against Selena’s okay, see you later that she knew would actually mean see you never.
“Where are you going?” Selena asked.
“Back to the rest of the freak family,” Mattie said. Then she stopped, her hand to her mouth. Now Selena would know Mattie had lied about her family and their talents.
But Selena didn’t notice. “Don’t call yourself that! You are not a freak!”
“No?” Mattie said. “How does that work, being a mind reader but not a freak?”
Selena stamped her foot, and a little puff of dust rose up from the dry ground. “It’s a gift. Even if it’s one you don’t much like. It’s like being great at art, or singing. Or like being a math genius. It doesn’t make you a freak.” She paused, thinking. “Or if it does, you’re a freak in a good way. Like, special. Unique.”
Mattie had heard this a hundred times from Maya, but it sounded different coming from Selena. It sounded almost believable.
Then Selena grinned. “And you did say you’d visit the Bellamys with me.”
It was a minute before what she said registered. “You still want me to? Really?” Mattie asked.
“Yes, really. C’mon, Mattie!” Selena held out a hand, then snatched it back, remembering that Mattie could read her mind with a touch. For a moment they were both embarrassed, but then Selena laughed, and, relieved, Mattie laughed, too.
They wound their way past another few wagons until they were back at the Bellamys’. The door was open now, and Selena poked her head in.
“Bellamys!” she shouted. “Come out and meet someone new!”
A crash came from inside. Then a man jumped down the wagon steps, short, kind of squat, muscled all over. He had a buzz cut and a handlebar mustache, and wore tight stretchy pants and a sleeveless tee.
Another Bellamy jumped out. Mattie blinked. He looked exactly like the first. Exactly. Same mustache, same outfit, same face. Then a third, just like the others. A fourth. A fifth. Mattie knew her mouth was hanging open, and Selena burst into laughter.
“They’re quintuplets!” she cried. “All identical. But I can tell them apart.”
“She can,” one of the quintuplets said. “We don’t know how she does it.”
Selena pointed to one Bellamy. “This is Elso. This one is Maso. He’s Harma. That one’s Negyed. And he’s Oto.”
“She got it right again!” one of the Bellamys crowed.
“Hi,” Mattie said, a little faintly.
“And this is Mattie,” Selena said. “Her family’s joining us. They’re magicians.”
“Excellent!” a Bellamy—Elso?—said. “Always nice to have new folk.”
“Their names mean First, Second, Third, Fourth, and Fifth,” Selena told Mattie. “In Hungarian, I think.”
“Our mom’s Hungarian,” a Bellamy explained. “It was easier for her that way. She didn’t have to remember actual names. Five’s a lot of kids, especially all at once. And especially when they all look the same.”
“I can imagine,” Mattie said, gazing at them. It was like being in a funhouse room with mirrors, the same person reflected over and over.
“Hey, guys, show her what you can do,” Selena urged.
The Bellamys exchanged glances, and then without any warning, one of them gave a little hop and went sailing through the air and landed on the shoulders of two others. A fourth climbed up the two at the bottom and the one on their shoulders as if they were a tree, and then he was standing on the top one’s shoulders. The fifth one shook his head and said, “I’m a little tired today.”
A moment later the two on top jumped down, did somersaults, and sprang back to their feet, and all four bowed. Mattie and Selena clapped, and Mattie exclaimed, “You’re amazing!”
“Except for Oto,” his brother said. “He’s just lazy.”
Oto sighed and then bent over backward, put his hands on the ground, flipped, and continued flipping backward in a circle until he was back where he’d started. Mattie applauded wildly.
“Show-off,” a brother muttered.
“You’re all really good,” Mattie assured them. “I can’t wait to see your act!”
“We’ll be rehearsing in a couple of hours. You should come by and watch,” Oto suggested. His brothers nodded.
“If I can,” Mattie promised.
“Rehearsing—uh-oh, I’m late,” Selena said. “Come on!”
The girls waved to the quintuplets and started back to the big top. “Nice to meet you,” Mattie called back to them, watching as they leaped up the steps into their wagon. Their legs were like springs.
Selena was hurrying, and Mattie jogged along beside her. “They look exactly the same,” Mattie said, amazed. She’d seen twins before, but nothing more than that.
“Well, they’re identical,” Selena pointed out. “But actually, there’s something just
a tiny bit different about each of them.”
“Really? What?”
Selena giggled. “You’ll have to figure it out for yourself,” she said. “I have to practice now. Want to watch?”
“There’s our wagon,” Mattie said, pointing. A truck had pulled up in front of the tent, in the area where the midway would be, and hooked onto it was the Marvelwoods’ wagon. “I should find my mother. I’ll come later, okay?”
“Okay—see you!” Selena ran into the big top.
The wagon door was open, and Mattie stuck her head in. Maya sat in the lotus position on one of the carpets in the center of the main room, breathing deeply. Her hands rested on her knees, each thumb and forefinger making a little o. Her eyes were closed.
“Where’s Da?” Mattie asked.
“I am meditating,” Maya said pointedly without opening her eyes. It was one of the major rules of the family: Don’t interrupt Maya while she’s meditating. The only more important rule was don’t tell anyone that what we do is real. And Mattie had just broken that one. She caught her breath when she thought about it. She couldn’t believe she’d told Selena, and suddenly she was afraid Maya would see it in her face if she looked up.
“Sorry,” Mattie said, and backed out again.
She didn’t see Da or Bell anywhere, so she ducked into the big top. It was a single-ring tent. The bleachers weren’t set up yet, so it seemed strangely empty. The ring had been assembled, though, and Bell and Tibby were standing with some other people at the edge, watching the Silvas practice. Master Morogh stood off to the side by himself, his face turned upward. Mattie made her way over to Bell.
“Da’s off fixing the truck with some of the rousties,” Bell said. “I’ve been hanging out with Stefano. That’s him.” He pointed to the younger of the two boys they’d met earlier, who was climbing down the ladder from the trapeze platform.
“Mattie, look!” Tibby cried. “They’re on the trapezes!”
Mattie looked up just as Santos let go of his sister Sofia’s hand. Sofia went sailing through the air in a beautiful arc, and her father, Sebastian, caught her easily as he swung toward her on the catch bar. They were so graceful that it wasn’t even scary to watch. There didn’t seem to be any doubt that Mr. Silva would catch Sofia, or that Santos would reach out from his trapeze and grab her feet as she swung back in the other direction.
“Wow,” Mattie said, impressed.
“Wow!” Tibby repeated. “I want to try!” Mattie grinned, imagining Tibby sailing past Mr. Silva’s outstretched arms and up to the top of the tent.
“You don’t need a trapeze,” Mattie pointed out. Pleased, Tibby started to rise, but Mattie pushed her down. “Remember, you’re supposed to stay on the ground around people,” she warned in a low voice. Another rule. But Tibby couldn’t be blamed for breaking it—she was only four.
Sofia practiced her specialties next. First she performed on the aerial hoop, which looked just like a hanging hula hoop. Mattie had never seen anyone on the hoop before. Sofia sat on it and swung to and fro like it was a regular swing, then twirled through it, spun around, weaved her body up over and under it. It was like ballet in the air. After that she did a hair hang, where she swung suspended by her long braid. It looked like it must have hurt, but Sofia smiled and smiled through it. Like the other Silvas, she had an amazing smile, so wide and bright that you could see it from far below. Even hanging from her hair way up high, she was beautiful.
“How does she do that?” Mattie asked Tibby, and Tibby pulled her own short reddish-blond hair hard and said, “Ouch!”
Then it was Selena’s turn. She sprang up the rungs as quick and sure as a cat. As Sofia swung up onto the board, done with her practice moves, Selena grabbed her fly bar and sailed off the platform. Mattie held her breath. Selena swung out and back, out and back, doing a force back with her legs to push herself higher and higher. And then, as she swung toward her father, she let go of the trapeze and somersaulted through the air. She stretched her arms out, and Mr. Silva reached out and caught her easily. It was beautiful to watch.
When the Silvas were finished, the rousties placed a tightrope above the net, and a tall, slender woman with dark skin and cropped hair climbed the ladder to a lower platform. She wore a spangled red tutu and red slippers and carried a red and blue striped parasol. She moved with ease and confidence, almost skipping over the tightrope and doing intricate dance steps with her parasol as her partner.
“Who’s that?” Mattie asked Selena and Sofia, who had joined them. The Bellamys had come in, too, and stood to the side, watching.
“It’s Julietta. Julietta the Canary-Voiced Funambulist,” Selena replied, making the title sound as if she were announcing it.
“Is she fun?” Tibby asked.
Selena giggled. “Well, yes, she is. But a funambulist is a tightrope walker.”
“Funam. Funum. Fumbalist,” Tibby tried.
“Oh, listen!” Selena said. Above them, Julietta had stopped in the middle of the rope. She opened her mouth and began to sing. The song wasn’t in English; Mattie had no idea what language it was. She could barely tell that there was a tune, either. Canary-voiced was a real exaggeration.
“She’s not such a great singer,” Bell whispered to Mattie.
Selena and Sofia exchanged a look. “I don’t know what’s wrong with her,” Selena said. “Usually, she sounds amazing. I hope she’s not getting sick!”
Julietta cleared her throat and started again, but her voice was even worse this time, hoarse and breaking. She coughed and wobbled on the wire. The third try was the worst. Mattie thought she sounded like a crow choking on a piece of roadkill.
The tightrope walker didn’t even try to get back to her platform. She jumped off the rope, landing with a graceful bounce on the net below. Then she scrambled to the edge and dropped to the ground.
Sofia ran over to her, the others following behind.
“What’s wrong? Are you sick?” Sofia asked. “Let’s get you some tea with honey.”
“I’m not sick,” Julietta replied. Her forehead was creased with frustration. “I don’t think I am, anyway. I just can’t … I can’t sing.”
“A singing funambulist who can’t sing?” It was Master Morogh. Mattie hadn’t noticed that he’d joined the little group huddled around Julietta. His triangular brows were drawn together, and he didn’t look pleased at all.
“Try it again, Julietta,” he commanded.
Once more Julietta climbed up the ladder and pranced across the tightrope, twirling her parasol. Midway across, she opened her mouth to sing. Only a hoarse screech came out. Mattie winced.
“Come down, my dear,” Master Morogh said. His voice was gentle, but Julietta cringed at his words. She wobbled across the rope and made her way down the ladder to stand in front of the ringmaster. She seemed shrunken, almost as short as he was.
“So,” Master Morogh said. “Your lovely voice is gone. That is a terrible, terrible, terrible shame.”
“I don’t know why,” Julietta said in a husky whisper. “I’m sure it’s only temporary.”
“We cannot count on that, can we? What if it never returns? Without it, you’re of no use to the Circus of Wonders. No use at all!”
Julietta gasped. “Are you firing me?” she asked. “I’ll be fine by tomorrow. I know I will!”
“But we are a small circus.” Master Morogh’s tone was sympathetic. “We cannot afford to keep on performers who don’t perform. And what good is a canary-voiced funambulist without the voice of a canary?”
Julietta drew in a long, shaky breath. “No,” she protested. “Please—”
“I must let you go, my dear. I’m sorry. Very, very, very sorry indeed. I am sure you can find work elsewhere, with your talent on the wire. But you are no longer needed here.”
Master Morogh crossed his arms over his chest, waiting. Mattie and Selena and the Bellamys stared at him, then turned to Julietta. Tears ran down her cheeks as she wept in silence.
/> “Now, wait a minute—,” one of the Bellamys began. Master Morogh turned to him. Whatever the Bellamy saw in the ringmaster’s face silenced him.
“Oh, Julietta!” Sofia cried. She ran to the tightrope walker and hugged her hard. “I’ll get my mom. Maybe she has some medicine …”
“She can’t help,” Julietta said shakily. “Without my voice, I’m no good here.” She squeezed Sofia and Selena tightly and gave each Bellamy a hug. To Mattie she said, “I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to know each other. Maybe another time.”
The ringmaster watched the farewells with a look of deep concern. But as Julietta stumbled out, Sofia’s arm around her, Mattie glanced again at Master Morogh and noticed that he slowly rubbed his gloved hands together as his gaze followed them out of the tent.
CHAPTER 5
Mattie and the others walked back to the wagons in the hot sun.
“At least I managed the somersault,” Selena said.
“You were amazing!” Mattie said. “I can barely do a somersault on the ground!”
“That’s true,” Bell agreed. “You’re really clumsy.” Tibby giggled, and Mattie reached out to poke him.
“Anyone can improve.” They spun around. It was Master Morogh again. How had he sneaked up behind them?
The ringmaster smiled, and his little V-shaped beard bobbed. “You must try to improve all the time. Practice, practice, practice!” He reached out to pat Selena on the shoulder, but she ducked, scowling, as he walked off.
“He’s so creepy,” Selena whispered. “He’s always everywhere you don’t want him to be. He sees everything.”
“He says everything nine times!” Tibby said, pleased. Nine was her favorite number.
Mattie gazed after Master Morogh. There was something about him—his beard and his black gloves and his repeating—that really was kind of creepy. Mattie didn’t like him, though she couldn’t say why.