“I know you’ll both grow up to be clever and brave young men,” she said. “I’ve always known that. You especially.”
I didn’t like her talking like this. It sounded like a goodbye. The kind of goodbye that means never going back to the way things were, ever.
I didn’t want to hear the rest.
I wanted to run away from her, even after I’d worked so hard to find her.
“You can’t just go,” I whispered.
“I can. And I will miss you, baby, but you have to stay with your family.” Mom tried to put her arms around me, but I pushed her away.
“My family?” I cried out. I couldn’t help it. I was shaking. “You’re leaving me with Will and Dad—‘my family?’ They don’t understand me, and I don’t need them! Will makes my life awful and Dad—Dad doesn’t even care. Did I tell you that Will made me think you were kidnapped? What kind of rotten family is that?”
“But they are your family,” she said, tears in her eyes, too. “And you won’t get another one. You’ll have friends and adventures, but you’ll only have one family that’s your own blood.”
“But it’s okay for you to throw your family away? How could something so important be so easy to walk away from?”
“It’s different—I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you.”
I turned away from her and stared at the cannon while she spoke in her low, breaking voice.
“Your dad was there for you when I wasn’t. Even when I was home, you can’t lie to yourself and say I was a good mother then. Your dad and your brother, they love you, in their own way. That’s your family, like it or not. I’m only me, and I left. And while I was there, what did I do for you except give you a name?”
“Great name, too,” I muttered to myself.
“I gave you that name for a reason, Spartacus. Because when I was pregnant with you, I had a feeling that your life wasn’t going to be normal. Or easy. I wanted you to be strong—a lot stronger than I felt. And look at you now. You are. In every way. You’ve become stronger than I ever hoped you’d be.”
I turned back to face her. We stood looking at each other for a moment before she put her arms out again. I fell into them.
“You were the only thing that made it good,” I whispered into her shoulder. “And now you’re leaving me again.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, rocking me. “I’m so sorry. I do love you. Remember that.”
She was still holding me like that when we heard the crash of doors flying open all around us. I flinched, but Mom just squeezed me tighter.
There were cops—real cops this time—posted at every entrance.
“Time to go,” she said, pulling away.
I couldn’t tell if they were police, FBI, SWAT, National Guard, or what, but they were closing in. Zeda, who was on the other end of the tent, ducked down behind the seats.
“Put your hands where we can see them!” a man barked. He was actually wearing a bulletproof vest and a helmet.
I threw my hands in the air, but Mom—well, Mom didn’t listen.
In an instant, she had scrambled up the backside of the scaffolding next to us and then, like she was some sort of ninja, she leaped at the canvas tent and slid down it, using a knife to slice a hole as she went. Cold air immediately came rushing inside.
Wow. She still impressed me.
“Get on the ground, lady! Get on the ground!”
They moved in closer, but still, she ignored them.
I watched helplessly as she wheeled the cannon to face the hole she’d made.
“Ma’am? Ma’am! I said, don’t move!”
She plucked up the helmet from the ground and pulled it on her head, then popped herself into the barrel. Then her head reappeared. “A little help, Spartacus?” she asked, as casually as if she were asking me to help her zip up her dress. But her eyes were pleading.
“Lady, do not—do not do whatever it is you’re about to do.”
It was funny. She still kind of looked like Mom in there, the mom that made me green-dyed pancakes and who taught me how to play Gin Rummy. She was my mom, and when it came down to it, I’d rather have her free somewhere in the world than locked up like an animal in a cage.
“What do I do?” I asked.
“Just turn the key there, and press the button,” she said. Then, “You make me very proud, Spartacus.”
I didn’t know if she meant I had made her proud or I should make her proud, but I didn’t have time to ask.
She dropped down inside and I turned the key and hit the button.
In reality, a circus cannon makes very little noise. Without the fake fuse, fireworks, and explosion, there’s nothing really to it. There was just a pause and then the hollow thwack of compressed air. We all watched as she shot through the hole in the tent.
It was the first and last time I ever saw my mother perform.
Chapter Twenty
After Mom had blasted off, the cops stared for a second at the hole in the tent, in amazement. Then they cursed and took off for the front of the tent.
Zeda and I raced out after them.
There was a chaotic crowd outside facing the river—it was like the whole audience was still there. Zeda and I shoved our way to the front, scanning the water for my mom.
Where was she?
We could see strange lights on the water. I squinted to make it out—it was like some kind of low, black boat. Then I saw it: the silhouette of someone on top of it, helping my mother out of the river.
“Meet you in the middle,” he’d said to her. He’d meant the middle of the river!
“Do you see that?” exclaimed a cop.
“I do, but I don’t believe it. What is that?” answered another.
“I think…I mean, it looks like the submarine,” said the first cop.
“From the museum across the way?”
“Yeah—but that thing doesn’t work, does it?”
“Got it up and running,” Bartholomew had said on the radio. “Plan S.”
We all watched in disbelief as the two silhouettes climbed into the hatch, closed the door, and then the lights submerged.
Kids clapped. Parents gasped. A helicopter swept over the area, its spotlight showing nothing but bubbles.
“I gotta say,” murmured one of the cops. “She makes one heck of an exit.”
“You might even say—an incredible one?” added a dad standing next to him. His kids groaned.
Zeda rolled her eyes at me, making a gagging face.
“And I have to say,” said Zeda, turning to me. “That your mom may be the most terrifying and—honestly?—the worst mom I’ve ever met.”
“No kidding,” was all I could manage. I was still in shock. But not in enough shock to not realize that some kids—and adults, too, let’s be honest—were goggling at me, recognizing me from earlier. I felt heat rising instantly to my face.
“Spartacus Zander?”
I turned. It was one of the SWAT-looking guys who’d been in the tent.
“Yeah?” I answered sheepishly.
“Come with me,” he commanded. I didn’t even argue.
He took me by the arm and led me to a park bench. Zeda followed.
“Don’t move a muscle,” he said as I sat down. “Just stay right there, okay?”
I don’t know why he trusted me, but I knew I was done running.
So Zeda and I sat there, looking at the craziness around us. The place was absolutely crawling with people. The sideshow had done its job, keeping everyone there. Their bus was across the way, strung with lights, but there were too many people to actually see what was going on.
But in the foreground, there were police cars, fire engines, and ambulances. It was what I’d been hoping for all along. They’d finally come—too late, I guess. But at least ev
eryone would finally know the truth. We watched as the police rounded up the performers and tech people Bartholomew had left behind. Some were just being questioned; a few had blankets thrown over their shoulders while they cried. I saw quite a few clown cops being loaded into waiting squad cars.
“Pardon the phrase,” Zeda said, “but what a circus.”
I wasn’t sure if she meant Bartholomew’s circus or all the confusion. But I didn’t care. Instead, I turned to her and abruptly asked, “Why did you follow me?”
“I couldn’t let you go down there alone,” she answered, exasperated. “You shouldn’t have run off after them in the first place.”
“No, no,” I answered. “Not in the tunnels. I mean to Portland. Why are you here? How are you here?”
Zeda gave me an awkward smile. “I talked the sideshow into coming and performing after the show. The people always linger when there’s a second show. I assumed it would create too much chaos for Bartholomew to really try anything.”
“So everyone in the sideshow knew what I was trying to do?” I asked.
“Well, I told them what you said—I don’t know how many of them believed me. You heard Nero. Even he thought it was crazy until he saw Will and you in the cage. But the rest, no matter what they thought, wanted the chance to stick it to Bartholomew. The sideshow always annoyed him—what? Why are you looking at me like that?”
I guess I was grinning a bit too widely at her. But I couldn’t help it.
“You did that for me? Why?”
Zeda’s cheeks flushed.
“Well, I couldn’t let you do all that yourself,” she said. “I mean, we’re friends, right?”
I think we were about to have some big romantic, mushy scene, but my dumb brother chose to interrupt at that exact moment.
“Ryan!” he gasped, running across the grass toward us. Zeda and I jumped back from each other, embarrassed. He sat down next to me, oblivious to the perfect moment he’d just ruined, his face shining with excitement. “You guys okay?”
“Yeah. You?”
“Fine. I’m fine. Nero is fine, too,” he told Zeda, pointing over to an ambulance out in the street.
“Nero! I need to see him,” Zeda said, jumping up. She and I exchanged an awkward look. “I’ll see you in a bit, okay?”
I just nodded and watched her disappear in the crowd, in utter disbelief.
She likes me. Sure, she’d kissed me before, but that was just about—
Then Will interrupted again, this time snapping his fingers in my face.
“Hey, Casanova!” He was giving me a sick grin. “What was all that about, eh? Did I interrupt something?”
“Shut up,” I said, but I couldn’t keep the corners of my mouth down. Luckily, a paramedic arrived to check on us, so he changed the subject.
“Was that Mom who blasted out through the tent? Into the river?”
I nodded. The paramedic was trying to be professional, but I could tell she was listening. She gave me an ice pack to hold against my knee.
“Where’s she going?” Will asked.
“All I know is that it’s not Brenville,” I glowered. Will stared at the river with a weird expression. Sadness, maybe? Or longing? I’d never really thought that Will even missed Mom, but the look on his face pretty much proved that he did. I could tell he wanted to say something, but he must have pushed it down, because he stayed quiet.
“What happened after we left?” I asked, trying to get him talking again.
“Oh, yeah, I forgot to say, thanks so much for coming back to help,” he said sarcastically. “I had to carry Nero outside to the sideshow, but by then all the cops and ambulances were arriving. Hey—are those my shoes?”
I was about to explain when I heard a familiar, booming voice.
“Got another one for you!” It was Lloyd, coming up from the riverbank—and he was dragging a thrashing, but pretty much defeated, Sharkman behind him. I couldn’t believe my eyes.
What was Lloyd doing?
I tried to slouch down so neither of them could see me, but the paramedic squeezed my wrist.
“Try to sit still, please,” she said while dressing a cut on my arm.
By the looks of both Lloyd and Sharkman, there had been another epic battle—one that Lloyd had apparently won. Sharkman had a bloody nose and it looked like his fin was crooked. Two police officers rushed over and handcuffed him. As they heaved him past us, though, he saw me on the bench. The look he gave me chilled me to the bone. Even the paramedic flinched when she turned and saw him.
“You don’t know how many people you’ve crossed, you little rat,” Sharkman snarled. “This is bigger than Bartholomew now! Way bigger!”
One of the cops was about to say something when Will stood up, his chest thrust out.
“Shut your friggin’ fish hole!” Will hollered. “No one threatens my brother, you got it?”
And before Sharkman could say anything else, the cops threw him in the back of a squad car. He was still yelling in there, but I couldn’t hear anything.
I turned to stare at Will like I’d never seen him before.
“What?” he said sheepishly.
Then he saw my expression change.
“What?” he asked again, only this time it was nervous.
There was no time to explain to Will about Lloyd—but he was approaching us fast.
Lloyd strode over to us, shaking his head, a grin on his face.
What was he doing here? A killer surrounded by cops and not batting an eyelash—it’s ridiculous!
“Never thought I’d get bitten by a shark on dry land!” Lloyd joked, limping toward us and dropping on the bench next to me.
“H-hey, Lloyd,” I stuttered, watching him pull up his pant leg to show a bite mark on his calf.
“You got any antiseptic for this?” he asked the paramedic.
Oh, god, don’t leave us alone with him, I pleaded with my eyes, but the paramedic nodded and jogged over to one of the ambulances.
“Guess Bartholomew had had enough of his fish friend,” he said. “I heard him on the bank of the river, shouting for them to come back.”
“So you fought him?” Will asked.
“Let’s call it a citizen’s arrest,” he winked, before putting out his hand. “I’m Lloyd, Spartacus’s friend. I gave him a ride from Bend to Boise a few days ago, for the funeral.”
“Right. The funeral…” Will said slowly, shaking Lloyd’s hand, but looking at me. “I’m his brother, Will.”
“I think he told me about you,” Lloyd said. Will looked confused.
“Where’s—uh, where’s your mom?” I asked Lloyd, struggling to act natural.
“I sent her home in a cab when I realized things were getting too out of control.” There was a long pause before he said it. “That was some mess you were in, Spartacus.”
“No kidding,” I managed. I mean, there wasn’t anything I could really say about it at that point, was there? It was exactly that: a mess.
“I kinda knew you were in trouble, even before you called about seeing the circus,” Lloyd continued. “Something just seemed off. And when you didn’t come back after the intermission? And then, of course, there was your performance.”
My face went red again, just at the thought of what I’d done in front of…oh god, thousands of people. I’d probably relive that moment in nightmares for the rest of my life.
“It wasn’t supposed to turn out like that,” I mumbled.
“I wouldn’t think that would be part of your plan,” Lloyd said wryly. “That’s what made me call the cops.”
“You?” I asked, incredulous. “You called them?”
“Who wouldn’t?” he countered. “You laid it all out on the line. And I mean all of it.”
It didn’t make any sense. Why wou
ld he…? He’d put his own freedom at risk for me?
At that moment, two younger performers from the circus approached us, a guy and a girl. Behind them was a tired-looking cop, gripping a notepad.
“Hey kid,” said the cop. “They got something to say to you.”
I gulped.
The performers looked shyly at me; I recognized that they were the contortionists from the beginning of the show.
“We just wanted to thank you,” said the guy, surprising me.
“All of us thank you,” added the girl. “I didn’t think we’d ever get to go home.”
It took me a second to realize what they were saying. They had been trapped. The rumors about The Incredible were true! My heart pounded as I looked back to the crowd of performers. Those that weren’t arrested were hugging one another. Dancing. Crying. Laughing.
My mouth fell open.
“You mean that—” I started, but the cop corralled them away before I could finish.
Lloyd, Will, and I exchanged amazed looks. We didn’t get the chance to say anything because, waiting patiently behind them, was a small man in a brown suit.
I thought he was also there for me, but he spoke to Lloyd instead.
“Dan Lloeke?” he asked. One hand showed a badge and the other was on the butt of his gun. My stomach dropped and Will’s mouth gaped open. It was the last piece of my plan, falling into place—too little, too late. I felt guilty and my gaze dropped to my lap.
“Oh, hey, Jerome,” said Lloyd easily. “Nope. I’m still Lloyd. Busy night, huh?”
What? I looked up and saw Lloyd holding out his arm with the tattoo while the guy with the badge inspected it with a penlight.
I watched, completely confused.
“You have no idea,” answered the officer, putting the penlight away. “I’m glad I’m only here to see you—the rest of this looks like a nightmare of paperwork.”
“No doubt,” Lloyd chuckled.
“Sorry to bother you again,” said the officer. “Have a good night.” He turned away and disappeared into the crowd.
“What was that?” I ventured.
“We-ell, since you’ve shared your family secrets,” Lloyd said. “I might as well share mine. Remember when you said you had a rotten brother?”
Spartacus Ryan Zander and the Secrets of the Incredible Page 28
