by Ellie Marney
‘Two weeks, two months–sama aja,’ my sister says. ‘She’s not going to be well enough to travel. I don’t think she even wants to go.’
I squeeze my eyes shut. I can’t believe Santi said that, and I can’t deal with this right now. The pain when I breathe is like the sound of ripping paper, and it is everywhere. It is all over me, and I can’t escape it, because it is inside me.
‘Of course she wants to go!’ Mama is committed. ‘She wants to go! Who wouldn’t want to live by the beach, and have their own show, and–’
‘Ren, that’s who.’ My sister is remorseless. ‘She is just a weirdo loser, I guess. Oh no, wait–is it because she already has a job, and friends here, and a hot boyfriend? Eh, if he was my boyfriend, I wouldn’t want to leave either.’
‘Santi, you are not talking sense and you are being disrespectful!’ My mother is angry now. ‘Your sister wants to go to Bali. It has already been discussed–’
‘Tell her, Ren,’ Santi says to me.
I can’t do this. I can’t do this now. The pain in my body is robbing me of control.
‘Ren, you know your sister is not speaking for you,’ mama says. ‘Santi, you are putting words in her mouth. You are being jealous, because your sister has an opportunity and you do not–’
‘Tell her,’ Santi says. She looks only at me. ‘If you don’t tell her now, it will just go on and on. Is that what you want?’
‘No,’ I whisper. It’s the first word I’ve spoken since I woke up. My voice sounds hollow.
My mother looks vindicated. ‘There! She said no! She doesn’t want you speaking for her, she is not–’
‘No, mama,’ I whisper. I grip her hand, hold her eyes, even though my own eyes are tearing up. ‘No.’
It takes a moment for the word to sink in. Then my mother drags her hand away from mine.
‘You are being unreasonable. The two of you–you are playing off each other!’ My mother’s voice shakes. Her face is white as she waves a hand at the room. ‘Ren, you are in the hospital and you think it gives you a license to say anything. You are too young to know what is good for you. Secret boyfriends and carrying on behind my back, and now this! You are an ungrateful, disrespectful… Bah! I cannot even talk to you!’
My mother snatches up her handbag and marches out the door, away down the hall. This is not what I wanted. I wanted to avoid this confrontation more than anything, and I’m having it now, at my weakest point.
‘She’ll settle,’ Santi says. ‘It’s gonna be all right, Reni.’
I can’t even cry, because that makes the pain worse, but the reaction wells up inside of me anyway.
‘Squeeze my hand, dek,’ Santi says. ‘Are you okay?’
My mother’s angry face and bitter words repeat in my mind again and again. I tip my head back.
‘It hurts,’ I whisper.
‘I know.’ Santi wipes my cheeks with a tissue. ‘But it’ll get easier.’
Zep comes in.
I like the way he shucks off his jacket so I can see his biceps in that T-shirt. I like the way he leans over me, holding the rail of the hospital bed. I like that he touches my cheek and kisses me without hesitation.
Above all, I like him. I like his smell, his smile, and his hair. I like his body and his mind. I like everything about him. I have not been in love before, so I don’t know what love is like. But it’s somehow the same as Zep’s card mastery: if it’s not there yet, it must be very close.
‘Your family will probably kick me out once they discover I’m here, but I had to see you.’ He palms back my hair, accepts a damp washcloth from Santi so he can gently wipe my face and hands.
‘Eh, I’m not going to kick you out,’ Santi says, returning to her magazine.
He is not the slightest bit grossed out by my chest tube. The cut on his cheek, from Cecil’s knife, is taped with butterfly closures. He doesn’t talk about what happened with Malcolm or Cecil, or the ledgers or the court case. He tells me about what’s going on with the show.
‘So now we have five new performers and three new crew. And we have a dog act. Marco is trying to figure out where to house all the dogs. The new acrobats are identical twins. Archie is mad–something about him not getting along with one of the new freak act performers, apparently. But Bill’s happy because he wants to retire.’
Zep seems to find the curves of my hand fascinating. He wipes each of my fingers in turn. I can see he’s struggling with something.
‘Me has asustado mucho,’ he says quietly. He snorts. ‘Damn.’
‘What did you say?’ I’m still whispering. Everything I say is in whispers at the moment, I feel like I’m in a spy movie.
He shakes his head, eyes down. ‘You scared the hell out of me, Ren.’
‘I didn’t mean to,’ I whisper. ‘But I had to stop Cecil.’
‘You’re supposed to run away from angry men with knives.’
‘I don’t run.’ I blink. ‘I’m sorry, I’m very–’
‘Single-minded.’ He finally looks at me. Tries not to grin, can’t manage it. ‘Yeah, I know.’
He looks at me for a while then, as if he’s taking in my whole face, every detail. Every plane and every line. Then he wrings out the washcloth and strokes it up from my wrist to my elbow. The sensation is so nice I close my eyes.
‘I set up your room for when you come home,’ he says. ‘Gabriella found you a recliner, because the doctor said you won’t be able to sleep flat for a while, so me and Colm moved it in. I took a photo of your room, so we knew where everything had to go back once we got the recliner in place.’
Something inside me uncoils and relaxes in Zep’s presence. It’s a little like how the pain medication seeps into my bones and encourages me to loosen, but this is more comprehensive.
‘You got a letter from the examination board.’ He lays the washcloth aside, holds up an envelope. ‘Sorsha said you don’t like envelopes, so I thought it’d be easier if we open this one together.’
My hand shakes when I tug the piece of paper free, but I think that’s because of my blood pressure drugs. Zep helps me unfold the letter.
‘Forty-three answers correct,’ I whisper, reading aloud.
Zep’s eyes are sparkling. ‘You know what that means, don’t you.’
‘I want the first kiss now,’ I say. ‘As a down payment.’
He kisses me softly, but it’s still the best thing to happen to me in days. I’m so glad Santi bullied me into brushing my teeth.
‘Forty-two kisses left to go,’ I whisper, smiling.
He looks happy, and a little bit wicked. ‘Bella, you have way more than forty-two kisses in the bank.’
Mama comes through the door in a rush. ‘You! The staff said you were here! Get out of my daughter’s room! You are taking advantage of my daughter when she is unwell–’
He snatches another kiss and his jacket before he’s run out. My mother hunts him all the way down the hospital corridor. I can hear her yelling.
‘Keep that one,’ Santi says, grinning. ‘Or if you don’t want him, I’ll have him.’
‘The ticket expires in ten days,’ I whisper.
‘Doesn’t mean anyone has to use it,’ Santi says. ‘It was Paman Agus’s fault for buying it without consulting. He wants to waste his money? Eh, that’s not my problem.’
I clasp her hand where she’s trying to tidy the blankets. ‘You should use the ticket.’
‘Bali is nice. It’s a nice place. But I would feel weird leaving mama and ayah alone. What will they do except get on each others’ nerves?’
‘You should go.’
‘They need someone to complain about. They will be bored in each others’ company, and then they will argue. No, I couldn’t do that to them.’
‘You are stuck in glue.’ I squeeze her hand tight. ‘You want your life to start
? This is how you start it, kak.’
Santi looks at me and bites her lip.
‘I want this for you,’ I insist.
‘I wanted it for me.’ She swipes at her eyes. ‘I feel bad.’
‘Don’t feel bad. You’re doing us both a favour.’
She finally squeezes back. ‘We are some messed-up chicks, you know? I love you, Reni.’
‘I will miss you so much,’ I say.
We can’t hug properly because of the chest tube. I am really sick of the chest tube.
Santi goes out to get us iced tea and chocolate from the cafeteria so we can have a private celebration before we tell our parents. She returns disgruntled. ‘Eh, this hospital. No Beng Beng in the convenience shop, no chilli in the food.’
‘I’m not allowed chilli anyway, while I’m in recovery.’
‘Bland food.’ She shakes her head. ‘It’s barbaric.’
‘…had to give statements. And the police kept making him explain how an unarmed girl and a guy with a pack of cards could fight off a guy with a knife, so he decided to just show them. He ended up giving them a full demonstration in the Spiegeltent, and now Detective Pang is bringing his whole family to the performance on Saturday night.’
Sorsha grins as she tidies the flowers on the nightstand by my bed. There are a lot of flowers–it’s as if they bloomed overnight while I wasn’t watching.
‘Fleur reckons we need a full-time legal team, we’ve had that many trips to court in the last six months.’ Sorsha pulls out withered stems and replaces them with fresh ones. ‘I don’t know about legal, but we definitely need medical on-site, like a proper nurse, and maybe a physical therapist. Not just because of what happened to you–Chester’s great, but he isn’t enough. And now we’ve got liberty horses and a dog act, we need veterinary–oh, did you know we’ve got a dog act? Yeah, that’s one of the new arrivals.’
I wait until she’s given me her news and stopped fussing, then I reach for her hand.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about what was happening.’ I sound hoarse. I try to relax my voice. ‘It wasn’t because I didn’t think you could help. I just didn’t want people to know how bad things were. I guess…I was embarrassed.’
‘You nearly died, Ren. You’re my best friend, and you nearly died.’ Her expression is fraught, but she finds calm somewhere. Sorsha is pretty amazing. She’s basically my hero.
I squeeze her fingers. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘My god, don’t apologise! Just tell me next time, okay?’ She makes a watery smile and blinks a lot. ‘And don’t skip out on dinner. Me and Colm are really excited about it. Hey, did Fleur tell you about your medical coverage? That is cool.’
‘Fleur hasn’t been in yet,’ I say, curious.
‘Well, you’re a full-time performer, you only developed asthma because of the fire, and you were in the middle of a show when you collapsed, so Eugenia says your medical is covered by employee insurance. She’s filled out all the HR forms already, you just need to sign them.’ Sorsha grins. ‘And you’ll be paid a wage while you’re in recovery, so you don’t have to worry about money, or whether you’ll have a job to go back to. You’ll always have a job on the show, Ren. Circus takes care of its own. I mean, look at Lee and Annie, look at Bill.’
I close my eyes and let my head sink back. This takes a huge load off my parents. It also means if I’d confided in Sorsha or Eugenia, I would have known this earlier. I wouldn’t have gotten so stressed about keeping my performance slot. I wouldn’t have kept performing when I was incapable.
I’ve been an idiot again, in other words.
‘Are you dumbstruck with joy?’ Sorsha asks. ‘Is that why you’re so quiet?’
‘I’m just considering how I can be an evil genius at the same time as being so very stupid,’ I whisper.
She grins, shrugs. ‘Eh, it’s like Zep says, I guess. You’re multi-talented.’
Five days after arriving at the hospital with a collapsed lung, I finally go home.
We drive together to the lot, and my mother and sister help get me settled in my room and into the recliner. Mama is still grumpy because of my refusal to abandon circus for Bali. But Santi’s decision to go has softened the blow.
My father is just relieved I’m alive.
‘Ayah mau bicara,’ he says to me quietly, as he unfolds a soft blanket over my legs. ‘I’m going to try to quit smoking. I may not succeed. I’m just warning you.’
‘It’s the trying that counts,’ I whisper, smiling up at him. ‘Start with the trying and see what happens.’
I’m supposed to be sitting up and walking around as much as I can, to strengthen my lung function. At this stage, just getting to and from the bathroom is exhausting, so the trip home leaves me utterly drained.
Sorsha has put a sign on the door: Recuperating Contortionist–Visitation By Appointment Only. That doesn’t stop a few people from popping their heads in to say hello and welcome back, and see how I’m going. By lunchtime, Sorsha has banned all visitors, and commanded me to get some rest.
‘I want to see Zep when he gets back from testifying,’ I say, but my words are dry and meandering. I can hardly keep my eyes open.
‘If you don’t rest, you won’t have enough energy to spend time with him when he arrives back on the lot,’ she reminds me. ‘Rest, Ren.’
Once my pain meds kick in, I can’t help but comply.
When I wake up, the outside sun is gathering low on the horizon, and I can hear the sounds of music far away in the Spiegeltent. I sink back into the pillows on the recliner. For the first time, it hits me: I’m out of action for three whole months. We’ve only just started performing again in a fantastic new tent, and here I am, stuck on the sidelines.
‘Fuckity fucking fuck,’ I mutter.
Zep’s bemused voice come from the doorway. ‘I think you missed a few fucks there.’
‘You’re back!’ I have to be restrained in my enthusiasm, so I don’t jar anything. ‘Did court go well?’
‘I gave evidence. My father wasn’t there. That’s better than I’d hoped.’ He shucks his black gloves. ‘I think I’ve had enough of going to court. And Marco’s suit doesn’t fit me properly.’
He’s out of the suit now, all sleek dark angles in his stage costume. He gathers me against him carefully–my chest tube is gone, but I’m still floppy as a cloth doll with all its stuffing removed. Our hugs have become soft-stroking and cautious, which I find deeply frustrating. I want to jump on top of him and feel him shudder, but that’s still a way off.
‘You looked fine in the suit. Although I admit that seeing you in it just made me want to peel it off you. What are you doing here? You’re in costume, aren’t you supposed to be performing tonight?’
‘Mm. Not yet.’ He smiles. ‘I got you a present.’
‘Really? What is it?’ I’m so bored, I react like a little kid to every new thing.
‘Let’s take you outside to see.’
He helps me into a jacket and a scarf and a beanie–which I tell him is overkill, but he won’t hear about it–then he puts an arm around my back and an arm under my legs, scoops me up out of the recliner. He’s so warm and nice-smelling that I curl up in his arms and purr like a cat as he carries me out of my room and down the hallway to the outside.
This is how it all started, I remember: with Zep carrying me, smoke in my lungs and chaos licking around the edges of my vision. I like the carrying, but I’d prefer to have skipped the additional injuries.
When we get to the porch, he lifts his chin at his gift. ‘It’s a found object. I got it off Terry.’
‘It’s…’ I squint. ‘A wheelchair. Oh joy.’
‘I’m sensing a lack of enthusiasm.’
‘You can’t just carry me everywhere until I get better?’
He laughs. ‘It’s a nice idea, but it co
uld be a little impractical. Let’s put you in the wheelchair and see how it goes.’
He settles me carefully in the chair, lays a lap blanket over me, helps me with the foot boards and turns the chair around. Being outside is a relief, I’ve got to admit. I’ve been trapped in a hospital room for nearly a week, and then in my dorm room all day. Now I’m looking up at a night sky mantled with stars, smelling cool, clean air. Cool enough I start wheezing a little–I pull the scarf across my mouth and nose, and okay, maybe Zep was right and the beanie isn’t really overkill.
Our destination becomes obvious straight away. ‘We’re going to the Spiegeltent?’
‘Of course. I’m performing, remember?’
Wonderful. Then I will just sit here in my wheelchair and be a boring lump.’
There’s laughter in Zep’s voice. ‘You’ll have your comeback, Ren–it’s just going to be a little later than the rest of us. Anyway, tonight Fleur’s allowed me to make special arrangements.’
‘What sort of arrangements?’
But he won’t answer any more of my questions, and now we’ve arrived at the tunnel. We coast through to the backstage area, pass Colm on the mats. He waves at me and smiles–he’s warming up for his cue. Deanna and Luke, from the trapeze team, are joking with each other over near the refreshment table. Fraser Hemming passes by in a rush, receiving instructions from Bennett, whose austere face is framed by a headset.
Dramatic music plays in the ring, reverberates uncomfortably in my breastbone. It’s irritating and strange, hearing the sounds of performance and seeing everyone prepping for spots, while knowing I can’t participate.
‘You’re here!’ Fleur exclaims. She jogs over and kisses my cheek. ‘I’m glad to see you back and breathing.’
‘Is everything ready?’ Zep asks.
‘All set,’ Fleur says, nodding. ‘There’s a place in the front, stage left.’
‘Arrangements, readiness, stage left.’ I huff. ‘You are both being mysterious on purpose.’
Fleur grins. Zep pushes me through the wing curtain. Patrons in the gallery are being entertained by the acrobatic team, and pay no attention to a girl in a wheelchair being settled into a front row space near the ring curb.
