The Traveling Man

by Jane Harvey-Berrick

  “You said you didn’t mind taking a look at the paperwork.”

  “Oh my God!” I screamed. “You wanted your girlfriend to catch us fucking so you could have some sort of revenge on her! What is wrong with you?!”

  His furious expression cleared a little and he leaned toward me. “She’s not my girlfriend. I told you that.”

  I glared at him. “You used me! You hurt me!”

  He shook his head impatiently. “You’ve got it all wrong!”

  I snorted in disbelief. “Unbelievable! Just unbelievable!” Tiresome tears started to fight their way through my anger. “Just go, Kes,” I said wearily.

  I tried to close the door, but he blocked it with his boot.

  “Aimee…” he seemed at a loss for words, but at least he didn’t look angry anymore.

  He scratched his eyebrow with his thumb, his eyes crinkling with frustration.

  “Can we talk … or something?”

  “No, I don’t think we can talk … or anything else.”

  I tried to close the door again, but he pushed it further open.

  I gave up, stomping into the kitchen and leaving Kes by the door. I heard it close, and then his boots thudded through the hallway.

  Finding it hard to be in the same room with him, powerfully attracted to a man who, by his own acknowledgment, had used me, I walked into the backyard, afraid I couldn’t trust myself to stay strong.

  I sat on the deck and stared out at the bur oak. The sky was white with heat today and the leaves looked black against the searing light.

  Kes sat down next to me, close enough that I could smell a faint scent of soap, but far enough away so that no part of us was touching.

  “Why are you here, Kes?”

  “You changed the password.”

  I gave a small, hollow laugh. “Couldn’t you figure it out?”

  “Yeah, I did. Eventually. But Sorcha couldn’t—she was pretty mad.”

  I couldn’t help turning my head to look at him; he was smiling, his expression smug.

  “I bet she was,” I said tiredly.

  “She threw the laptop at my head.”

  “Good.”

  “I ducked.”

  “Pity.”

  He laughed, but it was a bloodless, anemic laugh.

  Then he sat quietly, but his restless fingers drummed against the wooden boards until I felt like screaming.

  “Aimee, I meant it when I said that you’d got it wrong. I did want Sorcha to see us, but not for the reason that you think. If she’d told me eight years ago that she’d talked to you, I wouldn’t have given up and I’d have come back for you. I’d never have been with her in the first place. That’s why I wanted her to see us—I wanted her to know that she hadn’t won.”

  I stared at my feet. The coral pink polish made my toes look like small seashells in the grass.

  “It’s not a war, Kes,” I argued, even more confused after the explanation he’d just given. “You could have just told Sorcha. You still used me, and that really hurts.”

  He sighed with frustration. “When we fucked, that wasn’t me using you. It didn’t feel like that, did it?” he asked, a small note of uncertainty creeping into his tone.

  “No,” I replied honestly. “And that’s the problem. I trusted you, but it wasn’t warranted.”

  His boot kicked at a dandelion.

  “You don’t trust me?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know you. Not anymore.”

  “You do. You know me better than anyone.”

  I shook my head. “You’ve been with Sorcha for … I don’t even know how long … but a lot longer than we ever had.”

  He was quiet for a moment. “I told you about … not being able to read … the second time I ever saw you. It took her two years to figure it out.”

  “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

  “Yes!” he snapped. “You know things about me that she’ll never know.”

  “Kes, oddly enough, it doesn’t reassure me that you spent all these years with Sorcha and never let her in. You’re supposed to trust people when you have a relationship with them.”

  I was echoing Jennifer’s words, but then my mind flew to Gregg, and I lost the thread of what I was saying. It probably didn’t matter anyway.

  “She thought I changed my name to Hawkins to sound more theatrical.” Kes’s laugh was hollow.

  I bit back a sigh. He never addressed anything directly—I had to keep up with the quick leaps his mind made, if I wanted to understand this bewildering man.

  “She liked it,” he continued. “She said it was easier to market. She liked the whole ‘bird of prey’ theme,” he grimaced.

  I listened earnestly, my body bending toward his, even as I tried to fight it. As if to acknowledge my closeness, Kes’s voice dropped to a whisper.

  “Hawkins is my father’s name.”

  I glanced up in time to see a muscle tic in his jaw.

  “You’ve never mentioned your father before.”

  Kes looked down. “When Dono died … it was sudden. One moment we were talking about the Spring circuit and the next second he was dead. If Bev—Madame Cindy—hadn’t been there, I’d have fallen apart. She took care of … of the police and the paramedics and everything. Con was in Germany, and it took him three days to get home. Bev even arranged the funeral. It was really something—carnies came from England, Ireland and all over the world to give Dono a good send-off.”

  He smiled sadly at the memory.

  “But I was a 17 year-old kid, and they wanted to send me to a foster home until they could contact my dad. Bev would have taken me, but they said she wasn’t a suitable candidate with her ‘itinerant lifestyle’, for fuck’s sake. Con tried, too, and if we’d had more time, he’d have been able to swing it for me to go to Germany with him, but because he was in the Air Force, he had to go through the proper channels, and that takes time.”

  I held my breath as the story unfolded.

  “When they got hold of my father, it was too … inconvenient … for him to take me. Having a carnie for a son was ... he tried to throw money at the problem…” and at the word ‘problem’ Kes scowled. “He said if I went into care until I was 18, he’d help me when I got out. Fuck that! I decided to leave. So I joined the first carnival that would take me, but that wasn’t good enough for dear ole Dad. He didn’t care about me, but he cared what people thought about him, about doing ‘the right thing’—or his version of it. So he sent his people to bring me back. It wasn’t hard to track me down, because I was doing the same act, and using the name ‘Donohue’.

  “I spent one night in a group home, and I broke out. I knew I couldn’t use my real name after that, so I went by ‘Smith’ for a year. I hooked up with a guy who needed some cheap labor to maintain his stunt bikes, and I fit the bill.”

  “Wow,” I said softly.

  “Yeah,” Kes said, his face grim. “When I turned 18, I started using Dad’s surname just to piss him off. He hates that he has a son who works in a carnival. He likes Con okay, being a pilot and a hero, but me … I’m an embarrassment.”

  I could hear a faint edge of bitterness in his voice.

  “Why is he so bothered about what you do?” I asked, puzzled. “Why does he even care? He’s had nothing to do with you all these years?”

  Kes glanced at me then sighed. “He’s in politics, so he has to look good in public.”

  My eyes grew wide. “Oh!”

  “Yeah.”

  We stared at each other for a long, long moment. The air around us seemed to warp and shiver as if time stood still, but didn’t like being locked up tightly.

  Kes glanced away first.

  “I make mistakes and I move on. That’s what I do, that’s what I’ve always done. I leave, and other people leave. You’re the first person in my whole life who stayed. And then you were taken away. But now you’re here again … and you’re trying to leave me. That fucking hurts, too.”

  I’d
rarely heard such raw emotion in his voice. I don’t think I’d ever heard him admit to feeling pain before. But it was exhausting being ripped apart just so that he’d reveal a tiny piece of himself.

  “Thank you for telling me all of that,” I said. “It helps me understand so much better. But it’s still not right to use people—Sorcha. You couldn’t even apologize to me and…”

  He sprang to his feet, his face twisted in an ugly snarl.

  “I won’t apologize!” he shouted. “You’ll never hear me say sorry because it doesn’t mean anything! I learned that from my mom. She was always sorry: sorry for forgetting to feed us, sorry for leaving us alone for a whole weekend, sorry for getting knocked up in the first place, sorry we’d ever been born. So if that’s what you’re waiting to hear, you’ll wait a long fucking time!”

  And then he stamped through the house and was on his bike before I caught up with him.

  The engine was already growling when I tightened my arms around him.

  “Kes,” I said softly. “Kes.”

  He leaned his head against my shoulder, his breath ragged and unsteady.

  “Come inside,” I said soothingly, and held out my hand.

  After a moment, he nodded brusquely and dismounted in one graceful, fluid movement. I took his hand, feeling the tremor in his fingers as I touched him.

  He followed me without further argument. Maybe he felt as drained as I did. My brain was still processing everything that he’d told me, and a good chunk of it I needed to file away to examine later.

  But right now, this closed-off, complex man had opened himself to me. I felt deeply inadequate, having no clue what to do other than hold him.

  “I never stopped loving you, Kes,” I said quietly. “But when I couldn’t find you, I had to let you go. Having you in my life again, it’s magical.”

  He smiled softly. “Magical?”

  “Yes,” I laughed quietly. “A little bit of fairy dust, just like Ollo used to say. I always suspected that the carnival was a magical place and, well, here you are. Please … just don’t do anything like that to me again. Okay?”

  Kes looked down. “Ollo said that?”

  “Oh yes, he was very wise,” I smiled.

  “Yeah, he’s a good guy.” Kes sat up straighter, a questioning looking on his face. “I’m going to be catching up with Ollo soon.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, and Zachary. You remember him?”

  “Oh gosh, yes!”

  “They helped me after … you know. They’re still doing the circuit, and I always book a few shows with their outfit during the summer.” He frowned. “And I’m supposed to be leaving at the end of the week.”

  I sighed. “We always seem to be on a timetable, don’t we?”

  “Not necessarily,” he said, his expression clearing. “Come with me.”

  I stared at him, not sure I’d heard him right.

  “Come with me, Aimee. Do the circuit for this summer.”

  “That’s crazy!”

  “Why?”

  “I can’t!”

  “Why not? You said you had nothing else to do. Look at you—you were so bored, you’re doing my freakin’ paperwork for fun.”

  “You bastard!” I yelled as he grinned at me. “That was to help you out. I hated every second of it!”

  “Come with me,” he said persuasively, leaning across and brushing his lips over my neck. “Come with me—we’ll travel together. See everything, just like you’ve always dreamed. Together.”

  So, so tempting.

  “What about Tucker and Zef?”

  “What about them?”

  “Well, what would they think about this idea? The RV is their home, too.”

  “They’ll be cool,” said Kes. “Anyway, they’ll be driving the rig, so you won’t see that much of them.”

  I wasn’t so sure. But even with the thought of the two clowns being around, I was tempted.

  “You’re crazy,” I said again, my voice weak and unconvincing.

  Kes laughed lightly.

  “Aimee, I jump a motorcycle off high ramps for a living. Of course I’m crazy.”

  “I’m not sure this is right,” I said hesitantly.

  “It’s right for us,” he whispered, as he covered my throat with warm, heavy kisses.

  I pushed him off and stood up.

  “I can’t think when you’re doing that.”

  He leaned back on his elbows and grinned at me.

  “If you can think when I’m doing that, I’m not doing it right.”

  I couldn’t help smiling at his logic.

  “Come on,” he said, “just for the summer.”

  I frowned, a little piece of ice piercing my heart at his words. That’s all we’d ever had, a few weeks in the summer. Would it be the same thing all over again, risking my heart again?

  Kes’s smile faded and he looked down.

  “I don’t even know how it would work,” I whispered. “Sorcha would be there and…”

  He shook his head quickly. “No, I’m done with her. I met with that accountant you contacted. He’s not sure if she’s been skimming for years or she’s just shit at being a manager. Either way, my contract with her is worthless. She won’t be doing the circuit.”

  He looked at me challengingly.

  “Any more reasons you can think of why you shouldn’t do this?”

  I laughed disbelievingly. “Yes, only about a hundred!”

  Kes pulled a face. “Such as?”

  “What would I do? Where would I sleep? How would I…?”

  “What do you mean, where would you sleep? You’d be with me. I’m not asking you to come and read me bedtime stories.”

  “Oh, that’s clear then,” I said flatly. “I’d be your new fuck-buddy for the summer. Glad we got that cleared up.”

  “You drive me nuts, Aimee!” he yelled. “Of course I want to fucking sleep with you! I want to have you every possible way. I get hard just thinking about the look on your face when you come. When I woke up this morning and my sheets smelled like you, it took me about 30 seconds to come all over my hand. Fuck’s sake!”

  “I’m not your sex toy! I’m a person! I have feelings!”

  “I care about you!” he roared. “Christ!” He took a deep breath. “I’m trying here, Aimee. Maybe I don’t say it pretty enough for you. But this is me, trying.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “You can be a little … overwhelming.”

  He looked up, his mute eyes begging me to give him a chance.

  “Okay,” I said, my voice shaky. “Let’s try.”

  He didn’t smile. His eyes searched my face, looking for any hesitation or reluctance.

  I had reservations, of course I did. But I would give this thing between us a chance.

  He nodded, then held out his hand to me. I took it, and he pulled me in, wrapping his arms around me. “Let’s try,” he said.

  “You’re nuts! Completely and utterly bat shit crazy!”

  “Yep,” I said, grinning at Jennifer’s face.

  “Seriously, Aimee! This morning you looked as if your world had ended—again—and now you’re telling me that you’re going on the road with him.”

  “Yes,” I smiled happily. “For the whole summer.”

  She shook her head disbelievingly, her hands on her hips. “And then what? I know you, Aimee, you go all in. You even tried to make it work with Gregg-with-two-g’s for years longer than you should have because you’re not a quitter. So I’m asking you: what happens at the end of the summer when you have to go back to Boston and Kes carries on traveling?”

  Ah, she’d found the weak point in my plan.

  “I don’t know,” I shrugged, trying to seem carefree rather than careless with my happiness.

  Jennifer’s face was strained.

  “Kes will break your heart again. How can you not know this?”

  “You don’t know that.”

  She bit her lip and didn’t answer. />
  “I have to try, Jen,” I said. “You were the one who said I needed closure.”

  “Yes, closure! Not re-opening old wounds. You’re not the love ‘em and leave ‘em type, Aimee. So when you have to say goodbye again in seven weeks…”

  “I know,” I said breathlessly. “I mean … I don’t know what I mean. Part of me thinks this is a huge mistake, but…”

  “You still love him.”

  “I love the boy he was. I could love the man, too. I don’t know, and that’s why I have to find out.”

  “Oh, Aimee,” she said sadly, pulling me into a tight hug. “Please be careful.”

  “Too late,” I whispered.

  Kes had two more shows to do before he’d fulfilled all of his commitments in the Twin Cities. I spent the time with Jennifer and Dylan, including a whole day at the water park with lots of screaming children, which felt like work, except I was wearing a bikini, which made it feel very odd.

  Dylan was buzzing with excitement when I told him that I’d be traveling with the carnival. He wanted to come with me, and threw an almighty tantrum when Jennifer firmly said that he couldn’t. And then he got it into his head that I’d be riding a stunt bike like Kes. Jennifer laughed her ass off about that. I felt like showing her my fire-breathing skills, but thought better of it on the grounds that I hadn’t done it in over a decade, and I wanted to have sex with Kes at least once more before I died a horrible, flaming death.

  Jennifer was resigned to my leaving, simply reminding me that whatever happened, she was my sister and she loved me—even if I was a “crazy, sexually-stunted idiot, being led around by my libido.” I think those were her exact words.

  “By the way,” she asked, “are you still going to go see Mom?”

  I hesitated.

  “She’d really like to see you, Aimee. She’ll be hurt if you don’t go.”

  “Fine,” I huffed. “I’ll go this afternoon. Can I borrow your car, or are you and Dylan coming with me?”

  She rolled her eyes, smiled, then shook her head in defeat.

  Dylan was excited about going to see his grandma. I took that as a good sign. My relationship with my mother was more complicated. There were good things to remember, many of them, but since she chose to blame me for Dad leaving, the good times were all in the past.

  Every time I visited now, the house looked smaller and shabbier. The first part was in my imagination, but the latter was true.