by Sarah Noffke
Padmal whipped around and faced Oliver, who had his head down and almost no attention on the argument going on in front of him. His mind was preoccupied with Ian’s advice. Was now the time to break things off with Padmal? Ian said he’d know. That he wouldn’t be able to take it any longer.
“Oliver,” Padmal said, her tone demanding.
Like a sloth moving, he lifted his gaze to meet hers. “What?” he said, pushing his loose black hair off his forehead. His Mohawk wasn’t stiff and sticking straight up like usual. It did have streaks of green in it now though.
“Leave this stupid circus with me. I can’t take being here any longer,” she said.
Oliver ran his tired eyes over Padmal’s beige skin. She was like the desert, beautifully smooth and elegant and also harsh. No, he wasn’t at the breaking point yet. He actually looked at her and still felt the initial draw. Maybe he even still loved her.
“No,” he said in his scratchy voice. “I don’t want to leave.”
“Are you freaking kidding me?” she said, banging her tiny fist on the table in front of them.
“You’re overworked, doing three times as many illusions each show. How can you want to keep doing this?”
“Because I believe Ian. He’s never been wrong. And if he says us staying saves Dave’s circus, then I’m staying. I have to…that man rescued me from the streets,” Oliver said, still remembering the day so clearly in his head. After that day Oliver was never hungry. Never cold. Never lonely.
Padmal blew out an annoyed breath. “He cursed you. He cursed us all.”
“You know nothing about being cursed,” Finley said from his place at the end of the table. He sat there at every meal and most of the time the freaks forgot he was present. He was always silent. So to hear Finley speak then brought everyone’s attention at the table to him. His eyes were on the plate in front of him.
“Oh, and you do?” Padmal said. “You’re Knight’s prodigy and you didn’t even tell us.”
“He owes us nothing,” Haady said.
“Whatever. I don’t care if you all want to stay and support this nightmare of a circus. I’m leaving. I’m getting as far away from this corrupt organization as possible,” Padmal said.
“What was that?” Sebastian’s voice was heard first and then he materialized between Nabhi and Haady, standing dangerously close behind them. “You’re not planning on leaving, are you, Padmal?” the boy said, a crazed look in his dark eyes.
“Well, actually I was,” Padmal said.
“That would make Knight very unhappy. He doesn’t like it when people leave him. You realize I will have to share this with him,” Sebastian said.
“Why will he care what I do? He had Gwendolyn nearly kill me,” Padmal said.
Sebastian clicked his tongue. “No, if he wanted you dead, well…I don’t sense he has that kind of ill will toward you. But I really think you should stay at the circus.”
“Why is that?” she said.
“Because your act involves knives and they are dangerous. The idea that one could slip and cut one of you creating a nasty wound…” Then Sebastian shook his head like shaking away the fantasy. “Well, that would be simply awful. But the element of danger. That’s nice. So don’t leave, Padmal.”
She half smiled at the boy who stood a lethal distance from her brothers. Padmal was certain Sebastian enjoyed her act and was impressed with how skilled she was to juggle with knives. Sebastian in actuality was looking forward to one of the three slipping up again and being impaled by a blade. He could hardly wait to see the nasty wound it caused.
Chapter Fifty-Two
“You know what’s the most boring thing in the world?” Sunshine said, twirling her long black hair around her finger until it reached the black polished nail.
“I’m sure it has something to with watching my attempts to walk,” Jack said as sweat trickled into his eyes. He pushed his head into his shoulder to blot the dampness. His arms were the only thing holding him upright. His hands were again pressed against the rails on either side of him. Their length five long feet. Five feet he wanted to walk. Needed to.
“Actually it’s not, but that just proves how inflated your ego is,” Sunshine said with an indignant sigh. “The most boring thing in the world is counting objects, which is why people do it to fall asleep. Sheep, stars, leprechauns, you know.”
“Who counts leprechauns to drift off?” Jack asked, sucking in a deep breath and focusing on lifting his foot off the ground.
Sunshine shrugged from her place in front of Jack. “I don’t know, people. But watching your poor attempt at walking is definitely the second most boring thing.”
“Thanks, Sunshine,” Jack said. Every day he had multiple PT sessions and at least once a day Sunshine commented on his insufficient attempts to walk. It was actually only in sessions with her that he raised his foot off the ground, and he was guessing it was because he wanted to thrust it at her.
“You know, if a foal doesn’t walk minutes after birth it’s considered worthless,” Sunshine said matter-of-factly.
Jack brought his focus up to Sunshine. Narrowed his eyes. “I guess that makes me worthless.”
Again she shrugged. “Your words, not mine.” Her long finger was wrapped in her black hair, making it look like a finger puppet. He regarded her for a long few seconds. She had such an exotic look. One he never thought he’d appreciate but many things in his life had shifted. He wasn’t the star of a circus anymore. He also didn’t pity himself anymore or spend hours consumed with anxiety due to the constant comparisons he made of himself to his brothers. Jack spent his hours training as he had done before the accident but every moment was a humble beginning. Each hour was an observation of his thoughts with a deliberate focus to hunt for the ones that didn’t serve him and destroy them. Then he thought new thoughts. Powerful thoughts. Positive ones. Ones that he swore the last time he looked in the mirror had changed his eyes. Now he looked like a new version of himself. A better one.
“You do realize that foals aren’t broken at birth? They are designed to walk,” he said.
“I’m sorry, did I just hear an excuse for why you can’t take a silly step?” Sunshine said.
“No,” Jack said, clenching his jaw as he took in a breath. I don’t make excuses anymore, he thought to himself.
Sunshine blew out a bored breath and gave her attention to the tangle now arranged on her finger. She tugged and her hair caught in several places. “Well, don’t fall now, looks like I’m all tied up and won’t be able to catch you if you do,” she said.
“You never catch me,” Jack said, his head filling with heat. Air brushed under his foot as it hovered a foot off the ground. He didn’t take that moment to celebrate but rather kept his motivation going. “You only ever let me fall,” he said and brought the foot forward and then down.
Sunshine’s eyes flew up like she wasn’t sure what she’d just seen out of the corner of her vision. And she wasn’t sure but she knew Jack had moved. She froze and kept her posture unaffected. “Why would I catch you? That won’t teach you a damn thing,” she said, her eyes on Jack’s other foot. The left had risen in the air but not quite enough. Still it shuffled forward, his hands moving down the railing as he did.
“I don’t need you to teach me anything, Sunshine,” Jack said, a warm ferocity in his voice. Again his right leg, stronger than the left, lifted his foot and this time he took a proper stride forward.
“Oh yeah?” Sunshine said, her eyes wide on Jack’s legs, her voice sounding bored.
“Yeah,” he said, real conviction in the one word. “I already know how…” He took a step. Ever so small with the left. “To,” he sputtered out, his breath hot. Jack took another step, this one almost strong. “Walk,” he said, completing the sentence. And this last step brought him to the end of the railing so he was inches from Sunshine.
A smile like no one had ever seen blossomed on her face. Sunshine beamed at Jack, a real excitement finally spillin
g out of her. “I see that you do,” she said and felt the muscles in her face do something she was so unaccustomed to. But looking at the awed look on Jack’s face only made the smile widen. His expression spoke beautifully of his struggle and pride at conquering those five feet.
“Sunshine,” he said, breathless, his hands shaking.
She thought he’d say something like “I did it!”
Instead he said, “When you smile…”
“Yes?” she said.
Jack’s arms went wobbly under him.
Sunshine found her arms reaching out but wouldn’t allow herself to connect with him to actually be his support. And then Jack slipped down, landing on his bottom as he had so many times before. He looked up at Sunshine.
“Well, that was a hell of a way to end that,” she said dryly.
He shook his head at her. “Thanks.”
She looked down at him, the smile gone but still lingering in her green eyes. “Nice job, Jack. That was actually quite the sight to see.”
“Are you afraid you’re going to explode now?” he said, breathless.
“From giving you that one compliment?” She shrugged. “Yeah, I might.” She reached out her hands to him and he wrapped his fingers around them.
“You know what, Sunshine?”
She hauled him upright, directing his hands to the rails on either side of him. When he was in place she looked at him. “What?”
He took a deep breath and brought his hopeful eyes up. “When you smile, you’re radiant.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
Wordlessly Zuma and Finley practiced in the middle of the ring. It had come to be known by some of the other performers and crew members of Vagabond Circus as a beautiful arrangement. Their silence was poetic and mysterious. Some assumed that Finley had opened a telepathic link in his head and that’s how he and Zuma communicated. Others rumored that the girl was so pained by the loss of her acrobat friend Jaz that she refused to get close to another ever again. Still all were struck by how they worked together silently, seeming to communicate without saying a word. When Zuma showed up, they rehearsed, their bodies seeming to talk as they danced beside one another. She might shake her head at something and then they would pause and reconvene. Finley might nod and they would continue with that same rehearsed movement. And when he walked away, the practice was over. No “goodbye.” No “good job.” Just two broken hearts forced to work together, while also drifting apart.
Sunshine watched from the practice tent. She and she alone knew exactly how the acrobats felt about each other. It almost made her feel sorry for them, but she knew that pity was never helpful. Fanny’s kids, Benjamin, Tiffany, and Emily, didn’t feel sorry for Zuma and Finley at all. They watched from the bleachers in awe. The girls wanted to be Zuma and Benjamin wanted to be Finley. The naïve children had no idea they were witnessing scorned hearts; they thought it was the magic of Vagabond Circus and that’s why they couldn’t look away.
“We aren’t going to be able to do lessons in here if you three won’t pay attention,” Fanny said from her place sitting in front of the three kids. They usually did their lessons outside to give Jack a quiet place to rest when he needed it. However, it was raining in Santa Barbara, which was why they found themselves under the big top where distractions abounded. “Benjamin, I want you to read the paragraph on page one-twenty-six out loud for us all to hear,” Fanny said.
Benjamin found it difficult to pull his eyes off the dancing duo, but managed, bringing his gaze down to the history book nestled in his lap. Actually, all over the big top it was difficult for crew members and practicing performers not to devote some of their attention to Finley and Zuma, since they exuded magic. It was real, intoxicating, and it made Charles Knight utterly livid.
The owner of Vagabond Circus sat in the front row staring at the practicing duo. He hardly left them alone during their practices, as he was constantly making alterations to their act, making it more dangerous, more provocative. Sebastian sat on Knight’s right, his eyes cast down low. The boy didn’t like spending hours watching the acrobats. It made his head burn with fire. Gwendolyn, on Knight’s left, enjoyed it very much. She wanted to be Zuma in the act, to drift closer and further away from Finley with her graceful movements. She wanted to feel his hands on her waist as he effortlessly lifted her in the air. She’d arch her back like a swan, and he’d flow all around her like a pond.
“Stop,” Knight said, and immediately Zuma and Finley froze in mid-step, knowing he was speaking to them. However, everyone else in the big top momentarily halted as well, giving as much attention as would be allowed to Knight and his acrobats. “Zuma, you need to move faster. You’re slowing down that part of the act with your inefficient movements.”
The girl’s eyes were cast down low, although she was facing Knight. She didn’t say a word, merely nodded.
Knight stood and said, “Look at me.”
Zuma, having been reprimanded and punished multiple times for looking at Knight, didn’t comply. No one in the circus was allowed to look at him directly. She was afraid this was a trick.
“I said look at ME!” Knight said, booming on the last word.
Slowly, hesitantly, she brought her large brown eyes up to stare at the chalk white man who towered in front of her, some fifteen feet away. “Good girl. In this instance and only this instance you are allowed, as I can’t teach you precision of movement without providing a superior example. Now I want you to use your combat skill to observe. Watch me walk.”
She nodded, her adrenaline making her chest ache.
Then Knight took six steps in her direction until he was standing in front of her. “Now look away,” he commanded, and Zuma instantly complied. To Finley, she hadn’t lost her spirit, but Knight had for sure frayed it. This was one of the hardest things for him to endure during his time at the circus.
“What did you observe, and don’t say me walking,” Knight said.
Zuma cleared her tight throat. “You moved deliberately. Each of your steps was an equal distance apart. Your weight was evenly balanced on each of the strides and you had your core reinforced the entire time, so as to move with each muscle group right on top of the other.”
Knight drew in a long breath and from Zuma’s peripheral it appeared that he might have smiled. The man had short teeth and too much gums; she had noticed this once when he didn’t know she was watching. He appeared to have baby teeth. “That’s right. You might not be worthless after all,” Knight said, and this statement made a crew member to the side who was installing a lightbulb drop his toolbox from the top of the ladder, creating an awful commotion. Knight squeezed his eyes together from the loud racket. “That will be one week’s pay docked, Cliff,” he said to the crew member, not looking in his direction, his eyes still on Zuma.
Cliff, the crew member, dropped his head and hurried to pick up his tools. He knew better than to argue with the ringmaster. It would only leave him with a debilitating headache and even less money. Cliff sorely hoped Ian was right about staying, because he wasn’t sure how much longer he could endure the stress at Vagabond Circus.
“Now Zuma, what you just witnessed is me moving using efficiency, precision, and deliberate thought. It’s how all my kids are taught to move. And your act will be better if you do this,” Knight said.
She nodded. “I will work on it. I will try.”
A loud, overly exaggerated sigh rode over Knight’s lips. “Trying is what weak people do. I want you to do it. Is that CLEAR?”
Zuma nodded again, this time with force. “Yes, sir,” she said.
“Master,” Knight corrected. “You will call me Master. I am your master of ceremonies. I am your ringmaster. That is what you will call me. Do you understand?”
Many people were pretending to work, to practice, to do their history lesson, but everyone’s attention was actually on this exchange.
Zuma hesitated. She had given up so much to stay at Vagabond Circus. Was there a limit to what
she could take? she started to wonder. This was feeling like too much. Maybe I should have left after Jaz died.
“Do you understand?” Knight said again.
Beside her she felt and spied Finley tense. It was as if that one movement was an attempt to encourage her to comply. Finally she nodded. “Yes, Master. Of course,” she said.
Knight turned and walked two steps before seeming to think of something else he wanted to say. He turned back to the girl. “You took Robert Johnson’s card. Do you still have it?”
Zuma blinked at the ground, unprepared for this change in the conversation. “Yes, I still have it.”
“Master,” Knight reminded.
“Yes, I still have it, Master,” Zuma said.
“Quick to answer that question, weren’t you? I bet you still look at that card. Consider his offer. You probably hold it in your hands every single day, thinking that would be your big break. Your means to get away from me, the ringmaster who has made you the star so great a producer would actually want you. Is all that correct?”
There were too many questions there. The answers were yes, yes, yes, no, and yes. But Zuma only said, “No, Master. I’m staying here at Vagabond Circus.” And now she remembered why she gave up and called Knight Master and stayed when she wanted to leave. At first it had been for Dave, but now it was because she knew how he would punish her if she left. Knight had all but said that he would harm her circus family if she took Mr. Johnson’s offer.