by Diane Zahler
“Ooh!” Bub cried. “Awesome!”
“If you can balance this quarter on your forehead and drop it into the funnel like that, you can keep it!”
“I’m sure I can do that,” Bub said.
Bub took the funnel and tucked it into the top of his trousers. Then, he carefully balanced the quarter on his forehead. While his head was tilted way back so he couldn’t see, Chaz pulled out a jug full of water and poured it down the funnel into Bub’s trousers as Winston flapped and shouted. The crowd was in hysterics. Bell and Tibby laughed so hard they were almost crying.
When the clowns finished, the Bellamys came out, leaping and spinning through the air, flipping around the ring so fast they were almost a blur. Once they slowed down enough that people could see they were all identical, the crowd stood and howled. The five of them were moving so fast—twisting and jumping and diving and all exactly alike—that sometimes Mattie wasn’t sure if there were two or three or four or infinite Bellamys vaulting and somersaulting. It was dizzying. The audience loved them.
In between each act, Master Morogh came out and fired up the crowd, making them clap and cheer. The food crew strode through the stands, peddling their wares. They were the same group who ran the booths on the midway. They’d paid the circus a fee—a privilege—to sell their food there, and they were allowed to peddle peanuts and ice cream and sodas in the tent, too.
The tigers came after the Bellamys. Everyone hushed as the rousties raised the metal barrier and the cats paced into the ring. Mattie caught her breath. They were so beautiful, the way they walked. Their muscles bunched and unbunched under their striped fur, and she could see their amber eyes surveying the audience with disdain.
Ahmad stood in the center of the ring, all his attention focused on the tigers. He snapped his whip over and over. It made a terrible noise, but he never used it on his cats. At his command they ran, they got up on stools, they rolled, they batted paws in a pretend fight. Mattie remembered the feeling she’d gotten from Hasha, and she knew that the cats hated this. Maybe they hated Ahmad, too, for making them do it. She didn’t even want to watch.
“What’s wrong?” Bell asked when Mattie turned away.
“I don’t like it,” Mattie said. “Those tigers are … well, they’re kind of magnificent. They shouldn’t be doing tricks.”
“I think it’s awesome,” he said. “Imagine working with them! Ahmad must be so tough! I’ll bet he’s not even a little afraid.”
Mattie looked at Ahmad again. “Oh, I’ll bet he is, a little. If he’s not, he’s just dumb.”
The audience agreed with Bell, not Mattie. When the tigers padded out of the ring, the crowd cheered even harder than they had for the other acts. They seemed to like the idea of being so close to something so dangerous.
Then the Silvas, the final act, ran out. Up they climbed, fast and graceful, to the top of the tent, and in a minute Mr. Silva and Santos were on their bars, and Mrs. Silva was somersaulting and spinning between them. Stefano took his turn, and Sofia hers, her daredevil twists and spins bringing the audience to their feet. When she hung by her braid, girls in the crowd shrieked, and Mattie knew they were imagining what it must feel like. Then Selena climbed to the platform. She stumbled on one of the ladder rungs, and Mattie thought she must be terribly nervous. She held her breath as her friend stood waiting for the bar.
As she had the other day, Selena swung out and back, out and back, higher and higher. Then, when she reached the highest possible point, she let go of the trapeze and somersaulted through the air. But this time her somersault was wobbly, her body half-curled and awkward in the air. Her father stretched his arms toward her, but she was too far away, and she dropped like a stone.
The audience gasped, and a wave of terror rushed over Mattie, making her knees weak. The fall was so fast, so far! But she’d forgotten the net below. Selena bounced off the mesh as if it were a trampoline and did a quick, shaky flip onto the ground. Relieved, the crowd stood and clapped, and Selena bowed again and again, her teeth flashing white in a grin. Under the bright lights, though, Mattie was sure she could see tears sparkle in her friend’s eyes. She swiveled her head and, as the audience took their seats again, saw Master Morogh near the artistes’ entrance. His gaze was fierce on Selena as she walked away from the net. But he didn’t look angry that she’d fallen, as Mattie would have thought.
Instead, his thin lips curled up in a strange, unsettling smile.
CHAPTER 7
After the crowd filed out, the rousties started to clean up the dropped popcorn boxes and ice cream wrappers. Master Morogh called the artistes together. Away from the spotlight, he was back to his round, irritating self. He rubbed his gloved hands together and said, “Well, well, well! That was a success indeed. A straw house, and I think we satisfied them. Shall we see if we can do it again tomorrow?” Da and Maya nodded and smiled, but Mattie noticed that none of the others did.
“Just a few notes,” Master Morogh continued. A general sigh went up. “First, Bellamys—that entrance was a little slow. And you wobbled on the pyramid. And Dee, come on. Can’t you make the old cow move just a little faster?”
Mattie was startled. She hadn’t seen any of this. And he went on and on, picking apart everyone’s work. He even told the clowns they weren’t funny enough. It was kind of horrible, watching people deflate after they’d been so pleased with their performances. He didn’t mention the Marvelwoods, and Mattie wondered why. Maybe, she thought, it was because they weren’t really part of the show. He didn’t say a word about the tigers. And he didn’t bring up Selena’s fall.
Mattie walked Selena back to her wagon afterward. “Is he always like that?” she asked.
“Always,” Selena replied. “He’ll never just say it was good, even when it obviously was. He’s always got to try to make it perfect. It makes my parents so mad! But then Mom says it’s a good thing, to strive for perfection. Ugh. I sure missed perfection tonight.”
“It’s a good thing he didn’t hear me tonight,” Mattie said. “I made one lady cry and a boy so mad he ran out. He’d probably have sent us packing!”
“You’re lucky, being out on the midway,” Selena said. “He can’t really watch you.”
“He was there for Bell’s act, though,” Mattie noted. “I saw him in the back. I wonder what he thought.” Mattie pictured Master Morogh’s face, his expression as Bell appeared in the back of the crowd and finished the recitation. What had he thought?
She waved good-bye to Selena at her door and said, “You’ll get the somersault next time.”
“I was sure the timing was right!” Selena fumed. “It was so embarrassing!”
“You’ll do it perfectly tomorrow,” Mattie said firmly. But she sounded more certain than she felt.
On the way back, she detoured past the tigers. They were both lying down, heads on their paws. She looked at them, trying to figure out what they were thinking. But they both closed their tawny eyes as she gazed, unwilling to let her in.
“Good night,” Mattie whispered to them.
Friday morning was leisurely. They ate breakfast in the cookhouse. Without Master Morogh there to criticize, everyone was excited about the night before, reliving the high points and congratulating each other. Rehearsals started right after, and the clowns had the first rehearsal, so Selena and Mattie had time to spend together.
“Let’s go to town,” Selena suggested. “We can stop at the diner. It’ll be air-conditioned, I’ll bet. My treat.”
Selena’s mom said yes, and Mattie asked Da, who said yes, too. She was pretty sure that Maya wouldn’t have.
“Be back in an hour,” Da warned, and Mattie ran to join Selena.
It was really hot, and they walked to town slowly, trying to stay in the shade on the sun-drenched streets. The air-conditioning at Audra’s was lovely, and Audra came out from the kitchen to give Mattie a hug.
“That was some evening we had us last night!” Audra exclaimed. “Those tigers—my
goodness! How are you settling in at the circus? And how’s that delicious little sister of yours?”
“The circus is great,” Mattie said. “But Tibby’s a terrible pest!” Audra laughed. Mattie introduced Selena, and Audra got them both ice waters while they slid into a booth and studied the menu.
“We should have ice cream, right?” Selena said. “I want a strawberry sundae.”
The choices seemed overwhelming to Mattie, so she ordered the same thing. And when it came, the strawberry sundae was the most fabulous thing Mattie had ever seen. Piles of whipped cream, sprinkled nuts, a round cherry on the top—she almost didn’t want to dig her spoon in, it was so beautiful.
They ate in worshipful silence for a few minutes, and then Mattie noticed some kids peering in the front window. There were four of them, three boys and a girl. One of the boys had a buzz cut, and the girl was really skinny and tall. They looked about her own age. The kids pushed through the door, greeting Audra, and took the booth next to Mattie and Selena’s.
“Hey,” the girl said, turning to look at them over the back of the booth, “are you with the circus?” She had a thick Southern accent.
“We sure are,” Selena replied. Mattie cringed a little.
“Cool!” one of the boys exclaimed. “What do you do?”
“I’m an aerialist,” Selena said. “I do stuff on the trapeze.” She sounded proud.
The boy pointed to Mattie. “What about you?”
Mattie looked down at the ice cream melting in her dish. “Um … I read minds.”
The boy gave her a funny look. “Interesting,” he said. The way he said it bothered her.
The girl laughed. “Can you tell what I’m thinking?”
“Rubes have to pay,” Mattie said to her.
“Mattie!” Selena chided. Rube was an insult. To circus people it mostly just meant non-circus people, but it also meant a kind of hick. Mattie didn’t know why she said it. The kids looked nice enough.
They knew what rube meant, and they didn’t like being called that at all. The girl scowled and turned her back. She said something to the others in a voice too low for Mattie to hear, and they all stood abruptly and walked out, leaving Audra holding their menus, open-mouthed with surprise.
“Why did you do that?” Selena demanded. “They were all right.”
“I’m sorry,” Mattie muttered. “I just … they were making fun of me.”
Selena frowned. “They were not, Mattie. They were only asking. You need to get over yourself a little.”
Mattie would have been hurt if anyone else had said that, but she realized that Selena was right. “I know,” she said apologetically. “But I hate it when people ask what I do. They always give me that look.”
“What look?”
“Like … what a weirdo I am.”
“They don’t. You’re imagining it.”
“You know I’m not!” Mattie cried. “People look at us, they say things. We don’t fit in anywhere!” She stirred her melted ice cream furiously.
“I do know,” Selena said. “I get the look, too, sometimes. But I try not to let it bother me.”
“How do you do that?”
“Well, I have my family. I fit in there. And the circus. We’ve been part of it for almost six years. And then at my school, I’ve got friends who know what I do. They don’t care—or at least they’re used to it. Some of them even think it’s cool.”
Mattie sighed. “I just wish I was normal, from a normal family. Like families in books.”
“But those are books,” Selena pointed out. “Real families aren’t normal. My family sure isn’t.”
“You’re a circus family. Circus families have to be weird. But regular families …”
“Not them either,” Selena said. “Where I live in the winter, there are regular families. Lots of them. And they’re all messed up in some way. There’s one family who lives near us where the dad’s drunk all the time, and about once a week the mom locks him out of the house and he stomps around the neighborhood shouting and singing country-western heartbreak songs. One of my friends at school has a mom and a dad, and three stepfathers and two stepmothers, and not one of them remembers her birthday. There’s no such thing as a normal family.”
This wasn’t an idea Mattie had really considered before.
“So you have to stop comparing,” Selena said firmly.
Mattie nodded. “You’re right,” she said. “I really am sorry. I don’t know why I acted like that.”
“That’s okay,” Selena assured her. “Let’s go. It’s nearly time for my rehearsal, and if I’m late …” Mattie was learning that Selena got over stuff fast.
Audra came out with the bill, and Selena paid, waving off Mattie’s thanks.
“You take care, sweetie,” Audra said to Mattie. “Don’t let those kids bother you. They don’t mean any harm.”
Mattie sighed. “I know. It’s just … well, it’s just hard. I get so embarrassed about my family. My weird mom. Our weird jobs.”
“Oh, honey,” Audra said, “you’ve got to be thankful for what you’ve got. My grandbabies? Their mama left them. Just left them. I’m raising those children. They’d give anything for a mama, weird or not.”
Mattie flushed, embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” she said, low. “I didn’t know.”
“Of course you didn’t,” Audra said. “None of us knows what other people carry. We just have to try for gratitude. To realize when we have enough.”
Mattie took this in. Gratitude wasn’t something she’d had much practice at. But Selena was right—she had to stop comparing her life with other people’s. “I’ll try,” she said, a little doubtfully.
“That’s all any of us can do,” Audra said, gathering up the sundae dishes.
At the door, Mattie turned back to Audra. “I’m sorry I made those kids leave.”
Audra laughed. “They’ll be back,” she said. “They can’t resist my cupcakes!”
Bell came up to Mattie just after the gates opened for the Come-In. “I want to see Master Morogh do his act,” he said. “Will you come with me?” He knew Da and Maya wouldn’t let him go alone, and Mattie had to admit she was curious. Scared, but curious.
“I guess,” she said. “But we’ll just stand in the back, okay?”
Da gave his permission, and they slipped away after Bell’s performance and headed to Master Morogh’s booth. On the way out, Maya stopped Mattie and said, “Be sure you are back in time for your act. And keep an eye on Bell.”
“Stop nagging,” Mattie replied, annoyed. As if she needed to be told!
The ringmaster had a stage about the size of the Marvelwoods’, but fancier. It was painted gold, with a red velvet curtain strung around it, and was bare except for a little wooden table that held a metronome, clicking and clacking back and forth. There was a woman up there with the ringmaster, staring at the metronome. Her face was blank as her eyes followed the metronome’s pendulum. The crowd watched, enthralled. The roustie taking tickets waved Mattie and Bell through. They stood at the back.
“She really looks hypnotized!” Bell whispered.
“Well, hypnotism is real,” Mattie said, low. “Some people can actually be hypnotized. Not everyone, though.”
“I wonder if I can,” Bell said thoughtfully.
They watched the woman do as Master Morogh commanded. She sat on empty air, as if there were a chair beneath her. She did a little dance without music. Then Master Morogh said, “You are five years old. Something sad has happened. Tell us about it.” His tone was gentle but forceful.
In a little baby voice, the woman said, “Davy took my doll. He pulled her arms off. He cut off all her hair! Why’d he do that, Mommy? Why?” Tears ran down her face.
People in the crowd laughed uneasily, and Mattie shivered. The woman sounded just like a five-year-old. She must have been forty, but Mattie could see the kid she’d been in her expression.
Master Morogh stopped the metronome and woke the woman with
three loud claps of his hands. Her face turned forty again. She wiped the tears from her cheeks, bewildered.
“What happened?” she asked in confusion.
“You lost your doll,” Master Morogh told her.
“My doll?”
“Davy took it.”
Realization dawned on her, and for a second that old sadness flitted across her face. Then she laughed.
“Wow, I hadn’t thought about that in decades! Amazing!” The audience clapped and cheered, and the woman stepped down.
Master Morogh called out, “Do I have another volunteer?” A dozen hands went up. He pointed to a young man wearing a baseball cap. “You, sir. Come on up.”
The man mounted the stairs and stood confidently on the stage, his legs wide, his hands clasped behind his back. Master Morogh started the metronome again.
“Now, observe the pendulum,” he said. “Yes, like that. See it go back and forth, back and forth?” The man nodded. “Back and forth, back and forth.” Master Morogh’s voice changed, lowered. The man’s head started to move back and forth with the movement of the pendulum.
“Now you’re asleep, aren’t you?” Master Morogh asked after a few minutes. The man nodded again. “Tell me.”
“I’m asleep,” the man said obediently.
“What’s your name?”
“Joe Hensky.”
“And what do you do, Joe?”
“I’m in college.”
“You’re in a fraternity, right?” Mattie could see that this wasn’t mind reading: the guy wore a T-shirt with Greek letters on it.
“Yes.”
“What did you have to do to get into your fraternity?” Master Morogh asked. “Show us.”
The man immediately lay down on the stage and crawled across it to Master Morogh. Then he kissed the hypnotist’s shoes. The audience started to laugh.
“Is that all?” Master Morogh urged.