Frosted Donuts and Fatal Falls

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Frosted Donuts and Fatal Falls Page 2

by Cindy Bell


  After Brenda set the first batch of donuts to cool, she began frying the next. She knew there would be a rush on the truck once the performers took a break. Although there were many other food trucks there, not all of them offered breakfast, and those that did were slim competition. With the smell of coffee awakening her senses, she focused on the donuts in the oil. If she left them too long, they would get too tough. People loved how tender their donuts were, and she didn’t want to disappoint anyone.

  Brenda’s thoughts traveled back to earlier that morning when she’d snapped at Sophie. A pang of guilt flickered through her. Although Sophie had broken the rules, she did so because she was a curious kid with lots of initiative. Those were traits that Brenda wanted to encourage in her. She was pleased that she had the courage to start the business with Joyce, and she hoped that Sophie would one day do something similar if she wanted to. At times she wondered if her time away from Sophie was detrimental to her, but at others she felt confident that she was setting a great example for her daughter by demonstrating that a woman could start and operate her own successful business.

  “Beep beep!”

  Startled from her thoughts, Brenda turned to find a clown peeking through the serving window at her. Her heart lurched for a second as her mind flashed through all of the horror movies she’d watched that involved clowns. To be fair, this particular clown looked pretty menacing since she could only see the top half of his face.

  “Good morning.” Brenda smiled at him. “Can I get you some breakfast?”

  “Yes, please. The delicious smell brought me all the way over from the big tent. I can’t wait to try one of those donuts. Or maybe four. I should share.” He winked at her, a very exaggerated wink, that caused wrinkles to pop up beneath the white paint on his face.

  “Four sounds good.” Brenda giggled in reaction to his funny expression, and the fear that had built up within her faded. “You’re my first customer of the day, so you get a special discount.”

  “Lucky me!” He honked his nose. “Sorry, habit.” He laughed. “Once I’m in my face paint, it’s hard for me not to be a clown.”

  “I think it’s great. What kind would you like?” Brenda gestured to the array of options on the cooling tray.

  As he made his selection, Brenda looked past him towards the big tent. She noticed a man in a wide-brimmed hat skirting around the outside of the tent. Distracted for a moment, she looked back at the clown and began to assemble his order.

  “I hope you enjoy these.” Brenda smiled as she slid the box towards him.

  “I’m sure I will.” He reached up. His short stature forced him to rise up on his toes to get a good grip on the box. “Thanks so much.”

  “Hey, are you the only clown at the circus?” Brenda grabbed some napkins to hand him.

  “No, there are a few, but I guess you could say I’m the leader of the clowns. I’ve been doing this since I was in my twenties.” He chuckled. “I’m a long way from that now.”

  “It’s hard to tell with the makeup.” Brenda grinned.

  “Oh, honey, I’m hitting fifty-five next week. Everyone thinks I’m younger because I’m short, and I always have the wig on.” He gestured to the mop of red hair on the top of his head. “But no, I’ve been here for over thirty years now.”

  “Then you must love the work?” Brenda’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry for all of the questions, it’s just I’ve never met a clown before.”

  “Well, I’m Slappy.” He offered his hand and grinned. “My real name is Raphael, but no one ever calls me that.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Slappy. My daughter is so excited to see the clowns tomorrow.” Brenda shook his hand, which was covered in a thick, white glove.

  “Oh, let me know when she’s here, maybe I’ll pull her into the act.” Slappy honked his red nose, then waved as he walked away.

  Excitement bubbled up within Brenda as she was sure Sophie would be thrilled at the chance. Perhaps that would help wipe away the stress of the morning. As her mind returned to her argument with Charlie, she decided that he was right. She did set rules and bend them too often with Sophie. But that was only because she wanted her to have the happiest childhood she could. It would be over so fast. She closed her eyes at the thought. When she opened them again, she saw the man in the hat on the other side of the tent, again walking slowly along the edge of it. This time she could see his face and recognized him as the owner of Rowan’s Shoes and Socks, a store in town.

  “Rowan? What are you doing?” Brenda stuck her head through the serving window.

  Either he didn’t hear her, or he didn’t want to answer. He quickened his pace and disappeared around the side of the tent.

  Brenda thought it was odd, but a rush of hungry staff members distracted her. She was just about through the line when she heard shouting near the ticket booth. She looked up to see the two men that Joyce had pointed out before she left the truck. Cecilia stood in front of them. She waved her hands through the air as she shouted.

  “Get out of here, I said. You have no business being here.”

  “We’re not going anywhere until we talk to Rocco.” The rounder of the two men crossed his arms.

  “Is that what you think?” Cecilia laughed, then pulled a whistle from around her neck. She blew hard into it. Moments later a very large man stepped up behind her. Even though Brenda had seen him setting up the tent, her eyes still widened at the sight of him. He had to be close to seven feet tall and was double the size of the two men who stared up at him. He wore a tank top which left his long arms bare and put his muscles on full display.

  “What’s the problem?” His deep voice silenced the crowd that still lingered around the truck.

  The two men backed away from Cecilia, then turned and ran off through the parking lot.

  “Thanks Joey.” Cecilia gave one of his arms a quick hug, then walked back towards the tent.

  “Can I get a dozen?” A woman at the serving window drew Brenda’s attention as she pointed towards the donuts.

  “Sure, coming right up.”

  Brenda packed up the box but stole a look back in Joey’s direction. He had turned to walk away but looked back at the truck in the same moment that Brenda looked at him. His dark eyes locked to hers, before he turned and strode away.

  The empty stadium seating appeared a little eerie to Joyce as she selected a seat right near the front. Circus tents were usually packed with throngs of people, but today most of the seats were vacant. A group practiced fire throwing in one corner of the vast space. She watched for a few minutes, then she turned her attention to some acrobats in the corner. Joyce marveled at how they could contort their bodies like that. She was mesmerized until the end of their act. Then her attention wandered higher. There it was, the tightrope, and the trapeze swings. She could recall seeing the performers fly across the tent when she was a little girl. It amazed her then, and it still did now. She watched the colorfully dressed performers climb tall ladders to a platform that almost touched the top of the tent.

  Joyce had seen the circus a few times as a child. As she grew older, there were times when she saw trapeze artists on television, and in movies, but she’d never been able to see another live show. She was thrilled to have the opportunity to watch as they practiced. As she watched the three performers gathered on top of the platform, she noticed that one more ascended a ladder to the opposite platform.

  “What are you doing?” One of the women shouted from the first platform. “Rocco is over there, not you.”

  “Rocco isn’t here, is he?” The lone performer shouted from the platform he’d climbed onto. “Do you see him?” He waved his hand over the railing of the platform. Joyce narrowed her eyes as she tried to see the lips of the people on the platforms. She hoped that she could pick up some of the words due to the movement of their mouths. She’d taught herself how to lip read as a young girl. It was the only way she could figure out what pranks her brothers planned to play on her next. Over th
e years she had honed the skill and found it to be quite useful. People were always far more honest when they thought they couldn’t be heard. However, in this case they were far too high up for her to see their lips, but she could hear some of what they were saying as they shouted to each other.

  “He’ll be here.” The man on the first platform countered. “Look, there he is!” He pointed at a man who stepped through an opening in the tent. He wore a colorful outfit as well, though it had a lot more gold on it than the others. As he approached the ladder, he glared up at the man above him.

  “Get down here, Sal, you’re not in this show.” Rocco swept his hand back over his slicked back hair. “Cecilia made her decision already, and you know it.”

  Joyce recalled Cecilia’s warning to Paisley to stay away from Rocco. He looked about ten years older than Paisley. Perhaps a romance had started between them, one that was not acceptable to Cecilia. Intrigued, she began to listen closely to the argument.

  “Yes, I know it.” Sal turned on the platform to look down at Rocco. “But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.” He stared hard at the man who began to climb the ladder. “Here comes the mighty Rocco, ready to wow everyone with his rule following.” He clapped his hands high in the air. “Everybody cheer.”

  “Enough,” Rocco shouted from the middle of the ladder. “You’re not going to interfere with our practice. You are one step away from being fired, and I am the only person keeping you here, so you’d better watch your tone with me.”

  “You can threaten me all you want. I know why you really got the starring role in this show, I’m not stupid. It’s favoritism. I am here every day on time, early even. I practice twice as much as you do. You and I both know that you don’t deserve this role. You’re the one that’s late, but I’m the one that’s interfering?” Sal shook his head. “That’s not how it works.”

  “It is today.” Rocco mounted the platform. “Now get down.” He gestured to the ladder.

  Joyce leaned forward as she watched the performers. She had to strain to hear their conversation now that they were both on the platform, but it wasn’t hard to see their body language. Sal puffed out his chest. Rocco crossed his arms. Then abruptly he lunged towards Sal so that he was nose to nose with him. Sal took a step back, dangerously close to the edge of the platform.

  Joyce’s heart began to race as she stood up from the bleacher to get a better view of the platform. Before she could shout in alarm, Rocco raised his voice again.

  “If you were half the performer I am, then we would be in different positions, but you’re not, Sal, and you’re going to have to get over it.” Rocco gave Sal’s shoulder a light shove.

  “Don’t you touch me.” Sal was about to take a step back, obviously unaware that he was at the edge of the platform. Joyce gasped.

  Rocco shifted his weight and moved so swiftly that all Joyce could see was a blur. He grabbed Sal by his arm and jerked him back onto the middle of the platform. Sal lurched forward into Rocco’s arms. Rocco embraced him and held on to him, even after he was safe. Joyce didn’t believe that Sal would step off the platform, but she was relieved that Rocco didn’t let the possibility of the tragedy occur.

  The three other performers on the opposite platform cheered in relief, but Joyce’s eyes were riveted to Rocco and Sal as they continued to hold each other. Despite their argument, they appeared to be close.

  Sal pulled away from the taller man. As Sal began to descend the ladder, Rocco stared down at him. Sal looked up at him. “I’m sorry, Rocco, I’m sorry.” Joyce was too far away to know for sure, but she thought Rocco was holding back tears. He spun back towards the edge of the platform.

  “Ready?” Rocco shouted to the woman who stood at the edge of the other platform.

  “Ready, Rocco.” She waved her hand through the air, then grabbed the bar that hung from a rope above her.

  “Ready.” Rocco shouted again. Sal was halfway down the ladder. Joyce noticed that he stopped and looked up at the platform again as Rocco took a running jump. He spun through the air twice. Joyce’s heart lurched into her throat as she watched him sail with no tether, no rope, no net, it was just him flying. As he came out of his last roll, he stretched his body out and reached for a bar that hung inches away from his hand. Joyce sighed with relief as his hand curled around it. In the same moment, the woman on the other platform launched herself through the air, with one hand on the bar above her. As she swung towards Rocco, Joyce realized that they were going to switch bars. The thought made her skin tingle with excitement, but her stomach twisted with dread. What if they did something wrong? What if they missed?

  As Joyce watched, Rocco’s body began to twist. She thought it was meant to, until she noticed that one end of the bar had come loose. He clung to the bar with one hand, but his hand began to slip. Was it part of the show? From the horrified gasps that echoed off the platform, and Sal’s cry from halfway down the ladder, she guessed that it was not.

  “Rocco.” The woman who swung towards him stretched out her hand as far as she could, but she could only grasp Rocco’s sparkly collar as his hand slipped off the end of the bar.

  Perhaps people screamed, perhaps Joyce even did, but if she did, she wasn’t aware of it. It was as if everything froze around her, everything but Rocco, as he tumbled to the ground. She turned away at the last moment, but there was no question in her mind that the fall had been fatal. Shocked, her mind blocked everything out. Then she could hear again, and the screams were very loud. The once empty tent filled with staff and performers. Everyone rushed towards Rocco, but Joyce remained where she stood. She knew it was far too late to save him.

  Chapter 3

  Brenda heard the screams first. She’d been listening to some of the musicians practicing their music, and dancing along to it as she made some extra batches of donuts. But all of that joviality disappeared when screams broke through the music. The fear she heard in the shrieks sent a shudder along her spine that nearly knocked her off her feet. She dropped the donut from the tongs she held, as her mind spun with what might be happening. Whatever it was, it was serious, and the shrieks were coming from inside the tent.

  “Joyce!” Her heart began to race as she wondered if something might have happened to her friend. She switched the oil off then rushed out of the truck. She was met with a crowd of people that surged towards the tent all at once. She hadn’t realized just how many staff members and support personnel there were, until that moment. As she watched them flood towards the tent, her heart sank. In the distance she heard the mournful cry of an ambulance. Yes, something terrible had happened, she was sure of it. But what?

  Brenda glanced back at the donut truck. She didn’t often leave it unlocked, and wide open. There was money in the cash register that could be stolen. But at that moment all that mattered to her was finding out if Joyce was okay. She pushed her way through the crowd and hurried into the tent. A semi-circle of staff, entertainers, and trainers had wound its way around the center ring.

  “Joyce?” Brenda searched the faces in the semi-circle for her friend. “Joyce?” She pulled out her phone to call her, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She gasped, then spun around to see Joyce right behind her. “Oh Joyce. I was so worried about you.” Brenda flung her arms around her as gratitude rushed through her. “What’s happened?”

  “Just come over here with me, Brenda.” Joyce led her towards the bleachers, away from the crowd that continued to grow.

  “But why? What’s wrong?” Brenda eased down onto a seat beside her.

  “There’s been an accident, a terrible accident.” Joyce shook her head. “One of the trapeze artists fell.”

  “Fell? Wasn’t there a net?” Brenda’s heart skipped a beat as she craned her neck in an attempt to see around the crowd. Surely there were safety measures in place in case something like that happened.

  “No, they don’t use nets.” Joyce tipped her head towards the ring. “He fell from far too high. There was no way to s
ave him. Brenda, he didn’t make it.”

  “You mean, he’s dead?” Brenda gasped and watched as the crowd parted for the paramedics that rolled a stretcher into the ring. “Maybe he’s just unconscious, maybe there’s still a chance he will survive.”

  “No Brenda, he’s gone. He fell from all the way up there.” Joyce pointed to the platform above them. As she recounted to her everything she’d seen, from the moment that Rocco saved Sal, to the woman’s valiant attempt to save him, tears flowed down her cheeks.

  As her mind attempted to sort through the shock, Brenda could feel her friend’s shoulders trembling underneath her arm as she pulled her close.

  “Seeing Sal almost fall must have been scary enough, but then to watch Rocco.” Brenda pressed her hand against her chest. “I thought they took stringent precautions to keep the performers safe.”

  “I can’t believe this.” A voice lifted above the rest. “Rocco!” It bellowed, far deeper than Brenda was used to hearing. She looked towards the center ring and spotted Joey right away. He stood head and shoulders above everyone around him.

  “Don’t you dare question me.” Another man shouted. “I triple-checked every single rope, like I do every time. I made sure that everything was safe.”

  “Carter, calm down. I’m not questioning you.” Cecilia touched the curve of his elbow as she looked up at him. “We’re just trying to figure out what happened here.”

  “The rope was sturdy, and in place.” Carter stared down at Cecilia. “I will not be blamed for this.”

  “Keep quiet, Carter.” The woman who had reached for Rocco as he fell shouted at him. “Just keep quiet, all of you. Rocco is dead. He’s dead.”

 

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