Backstage, Desmonica stood with János and one of the other acrobats. She looked inhuman in her feathered headdress (was that the matre de telos that she was always going off about?), her face whitened with powder, and her eyes lined with an iridescent blue. He didn't want to get near her, but had little choice if he wanted to see the horse. When he reached them, he turned to János. "That was great, what you did with the trampolines. I've never seen anything like it." He noticed that János was missing his left earlobe; it looked as though it had been bitten off.
"Yes, thank you much," János said. Lewis glanced at the other acrobat, observing a large, star-shaped scar under one eye. János continued. "We worked very difficultly for this and I am happy with its turnout." The other acrobat said something in their language and moved off. "Well I must away to dismantlize our equipments. The work is never done, the pleasures are oft hard won."
Lewis wondered why János didn't stay to watch his girlfriend. He could do without Desmonica, but how could anyone not watch the horse? He considered asking her if he could sit on the horse before she began her act, but didn't want her to know how much it fascinated him.
The acrobats shouted and sang as they folded the trampolines. Barca stood near the backstage door with his elephants; they moved aside, and the acrobats lugged their trampolines out the door and piled them outside. He wondered if the elephants would be used to transport everything back to the train. A few minutes later Dillon came in leading the horse by its bridle as though it was alive. Lewis marveled at its smooth gait; when Dillon and the horse stopped, Desmonica mounted.
Then, the drumming of hoofs. Perry on horseback galloped in, Gold and Brisbane returned from the arena, and Dillon walked out to announce the final act. Lewis stood close to the mechanical horse. Desmonica lifted the reins, and it carried her forward. What made it move? He watched from just outside the floor area. Their act wasn't worthy of the horse. Racing around. Yes, it was amazing that the horse could race around with its fleshy counterpart, but it wasn't enough. Such a marvel demanded excitement.
The horses finished their act, and marching music began. Dillon led everyone back out for the final procession. The performers filed past Lewis, and he, with sudden decisiveness, added himself to the tail of the group, behind Bodyssia and her capybarabears. Nobody would notice; one of their rules was not to look back during a promenade.
At first he felt embarrassed and exposed. He kept his eyes on the animals ahead of him and stepped carefully, afraid of stumbling. The noise bothered him; screechings and drummings that he couldn't place. They had marched about halfway around before he tried a quick glance around him. The noises were coming from the crowd. A blur of clapping and yelling, plus the marching band music. Was this what performing was like?
~
Afterwards, a repeat of yesterday. Miss Linda handed out balloons and candy. Backstage, everyone howling, acrobats throwing each other into the air. Gold shouted something about Leonora. She tore off her leotard and pirouetted naked, then leaped toward Gold to be caught and lifted. Once past them, Lewis could see the mechanical horse. Desmonica was off, nearby but wrapped around János. He couldn't believe it—Dillon was nowhere.
He pulled himself up onto the leather saddle and prodded its sides. Nothing happened. It might as well be made of marble. He reached for the reins, but before he could get them Dillon appeared.
"Off now." Dillon took his wrist, pulling him down from the horse. "No time to play," Dillon said. Lewis started to protest, but Dillon's expression frightened him, all red-faced and stiff-lipped. Dillon led the horse away.
Dillon had been gone less than a minute when two men wearing loose orange smocks and orange skullcaps rushed into the room. One of them carried a wooden staff about the same size and shape as a baseball bat but with a metal knob on the end. They're after the horse—Dillon must have known they were coming. Lewis wondered how fast Dillon could cover the distance from the amphitheater to the train. Feeling as though he was inside Cybele's melodrama, he watched the men run to the door, but before they could reach it Barca moved the elephants into their path. They shouted at him in their language. He said he couldn't understand them. They cursed (it sounded like cursing) and gestured. Lewis thought to warn Barca, tell him not to let the men through. When enough time had gone by for Dillon to reach the train, Barca moved the elephants away from the doorway. Dillon knew what he was doing. People were probably always trying to take the horse.
Lewis followed the men out. They were talking to each other with sweeping gestures, pointing to the train, the amphitheater, the town. Dillon wasn't in sight. They turned and moved toward the town.
Some of the crew came out while he was watching the men, and he accompanied them back to the train. Gold claimed that a group of women had returned from the day before to revel in his dexterity. Leonora said something about showing him some real dexterity later. Despite his earlier elation with his program, Lewis felt left out. The others bragged about their performance. He wished someone would compliment him for his contribution, but no one seemed to have noticed it. When they reached the train, the performers returned to their rooms to change. He stayed outside, reluctant to give up the fresh air and quiet. At least there would be one more day of it.
The road away from town passed into the hills. He walked a short way in that direction. It felt good to have finally seen the circus, but he wished someone besides Desmonica rode Cybele's horse. Desmonica didn't deserve to be connected with it. What he wrote about her for the program disgusted him.
~
Attis, the world's only fully life-like and life-sized mechanical horse, moves with easy grace through, and over, a series of obstacles. Its rider is Desmonica Rienzi, a former dancer, and her natural athleticism brings to the act a daring display of skill and style...
~
He stopped and sat down at a switchback where a shelf of rock overlooked the bay. Cybele hadn't been at the performance. He wanted to see her now, wanted her beside him on the rock. The wind had picked up; he liked the way it felt in his hair. Below, whitecaps glowed in the fading daylight. He thought of the bay near Are No's house and wondered what he might be doing had he never met Dillon. Something made him think of a piece of a song he liked, "take my body to the west/to the ever-flowing river/tell my love I lost my way." If Cybele had somehow arranged everything, he appreciated it. He had left nothing behind, nothing missed, nothing regretted.
~
The acrobats danced, János with Desmonica, and the other three with three new women. Two of the women were stocky, with dark, braided hair and broad faces. The third was taller than the acrobats, with light brown hair. After the peacefulness of being outside, the wail of the saxophone grated on Lewis; he slipped between the flailing bodies to a booth where Gold, Leonora, and Bodyssia sat. Bodyssia got up, offering the inside seat.
"I don't want anybody between me and the food," she said.
He wouldn't stay long. Eat and go back out, sleep in the open air again. "Who are these new women?" he asked.
At another booth Barca, Jenkins, and Perry played cards. No sign of Dillon. He turned to look at the new women, but it was hard to see around Bodyssia. He watched her as she ate. Her red hair, longer than he remembered it, hung loose on her shoulders. He wanted to talk to her but didn't know what to say. She hadn't acknowledged his helping with her act. He needed to be appreciated, if not for his program, then something.
The acrobats and their women stopped dancing and moved to the booth behind Lewis. Their loud, unintelligible talk distracted him from a thought he had been trying to formulate.
"Hi, I'm Lullaby," someone said.
Lewis turned around to see the brown-haired woman take the seat beside Desmonica. Her accent was odd, like the woman who had been with Dawn at Oblong Henry's party. Where was Dawn? Must be in town with the woman. The door on the gymnasium side of the dining car opened and Dillon entered. He nodded at Lewis's table and stopped at the card game table. Jenkins got up.
"All is secure?" Dillon asked.
"Wrapped up and ready to slip our moorings," Jenkins said. Dillon turned and left the room. What did that mean?
Desmonica left her seat and moved to the far wall. She stood facing everyone, with a silly grin on her face like someone laughing at a private joke.
"Hey everybody," she finally said. "I've got an announcement to make." She paused and looked around the room. "János and I are going to have a baby!"
People shouted out their congratulations, but across from Lewis Gold muttered, "Glad it's not mine."
"János and I are going to stay with the circus, but I won't be riding anymore. I don't want to do anything to hurt the baby, and afterwards, I just want to be a mother."
Did Dillon already know about this? When Desmonica was cutting his hair, she had ranted about sex and responsibility. She had said Cinteotl gave her a birth-control drink. Cybele must have arranged the pregnancy. Lewis wondered whether Lullaby or one of the other new women would take over her job. He ought to have some say in the matter. Dillon should consult with him before making a decision. He turned back to his companions. They had pushed their plates to the side, and Bodyssia and Gold were preparing to arm wrestle. Lewis wondered what Cybele would do if he had sex with another woman. Would it provoke her to anger, or approval? Who then—Bodyssia, Dawn, or Miss Linda? Dawn was gay and he had no interest in Miss Linda. Bodyssia's arm flexed; she mashed Gold's hand to the table.
Leonora placed her arm over Gold's shoulders and murmured in his ear. Gold smiled and turned his head to whisper something to her. She kissed his cheek.
"You guys are getting too perky," Bodyssia said, bellowing like she had during her act. "And I need to go check on my critters."
"Are you coming back?" Lewis asked. He thought he sounded too desperate.
"Doubt it. Workout time."
She left. Gold and Leonora picked up their plates and left too. Two of the acrobats had also left, and the remaining two joined the poker game. Lewis got up to talk to the new women, thinking he would conduct a preliminary interview to see which one should be Desmonica's successor.
The dark-haired pair sat on one side, talking to each other in a guttural language. Desmonica and Lullaby sat opposite them chatting and laughing, as though they had been friends for years.
Lewis congratulated Desmonica and sat down opposite them; the dark-haired women slid over to give him more room.
"I like your earrings," he said to Lullaby. They were shaped like a trapeze, with acrobats hanging on them.
"Thank you, thank you," she said, bobbing her head as she spoke. "I get so embarrassed when someone compliments me." She let out a high pitched laugh and quickly covered her mouth with her hand. Her laugh annoyed him. She seemed drunk. She would have to be drunk to be with one of those acrobats.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you. They're ugly."
She laughed louder, a high-pitched squeak.
"Lullaby and József are dating now," Desmonica said, and Lullaby blushed.
"It's nice to meet you Lullaby. And I don't intend that as a compliment, I say that to everybody, whether I mean it or not."
She tittered again. Bare toes rubbed against his calf. He looked down. Lullaby's. Desmonica glared at him and he moved his leg away.
~
The two dark-haired women were either both from or both named Chala and spoke little English. The interview with them and Lullaby had provided little information of interest. He didn't want Lullaby anywhere near the horse. The other two might do. He would have to talk to Dillon. But now it was time to fix his bed in the meadow. He hadn't eaten. He would take food with him. On the way to Cinteotl's counter his insides lurched; he held the counter for support. Did that mean? The windows clouded over.
They had left.
Cinteotl handed him a plate. But he wasn't ready to leave. One more day, he had thought. Must have had something to do with those men wanting to steal the mechanical horse. Dillon knew what he was doing. Lewis sat at the booth again and looked around. The card game still progressed, now with the addition of two acrobats (János and József, he thought). Everyone else had left. What did he have in common with any of these people? Cybele knew how to make him feel better. But she wasn't here. Restless, he got up to go back to his room. Time for bed. But he didn't want to lie down, didn't want to sleep. He wanted to be out in the salt breeze. Was it last night he had slept outside? He had stared at the stars, seeing Cybele's face in the constellations.
Even before opening his door he knew Cybele was inside. She sat at his desk staring at the cloudy windows. He wondered whether she was able to see through to what lay on the other side of the glass.
She spoke without turning around. "We meet in the ashes of the ether. Courting perception and deception, we walk together for a time."
He was about to touch her cheek, but stopped, picked up the rosemary branch instead, and rubbed it across her bare shoulders. He leaned over until his nose was less than an inch from her skin. The rosemary's scent mingled with hers. He breathed in and smiled.
Part Four
Chapter 20: Improvisation
Lewis walked barefoot on a slope of luminescent glass. To keep from sliding, each step on the slick surface had to be considered with care. Nothing existed outside the realm of his feet, right foot lift, place, left, the same. No looking up lest he disrupt his balance and tumble downward. Once, he paused his upward movement to glance toward the summit, a yellow-white glow he despaired of reaching. And then he was there—so bent had he been on reaching it, he had overshot and taken a few steps down before realizing. Blackness surrounded the hill, a glowing island in a black sea. From the purple-black sky a single eye appeared, staring down, boring into him. He collapsed to his knees and pressed his face into his lap. Eye...blinding...can't look up...can't move. Remain frozen invisible motionlessness...wait for the cold pain of the eye to leave. A subtle breeze passed; he looked up at blue sky and smiled. The glass surface felt warm now, soft and alive. He stood on the slope of a tan hill that vibrated irregularly, as if thumped from the inside. Farther up the hill he found a depression wide and deep enough to cradle his body. About fifty yards ahead, the downward slope gave way to twin, oblong hills, their details blurry in the misty light. Feeling vulnerable, he lowered himself into the depression, luxuriating in the warmth that radiated from the surrounding walls.
"The flora of this area are of particular interest to me," a woman's voice said. Lewis opened his eyes. Dr. Claudia Bricem, his college botany professor, peered down at him. "Two dozen separate species of orchid can be found in this valley alone," she said. Dr. Bricem helped him climb from the hole, and they descended to a grassy plain. Then she was gone.
He found the garden as he remembered it: the limestone path leading to the chicken-wire fence, the rosemary trees, and the rich smell of freshly turned soil. The woman who tended the garden offered him pea pods; he opened one and dropped the peas into his mouth one by one, tasting their crunchy sweetness. The woman smiled at him with Cybele's smile, and a heavy man with gray hair sang a song about cowboys. The man playing pedal steel guitar with him looked like Floyd Perry.
~
"Strong flavors, strong impressions—these are what extend the boundaries of perception," Perry said after Lewis had commented on the bitter but satisfying taste of the ale. "Smoking a cigar while sipping a glass of excellent Scotch..." Perry's voice faded and his face grew dreamy. Then he banged his fist on the table and continued, louder, twisting the syllables into a verbal sneer. "Compare that to having a filtered, menthol cigarette with a so called 'wine cooler.' I know, because I've tried it, and the sensations are too bland to elicit any meaningful responses. People who like those kinds of things aren't worth the words on a page."
The door from the gymnasium side opened, but Lewis didn't bother turning to see who it was.
"I ain't saying you've gotta smoke, better not to smoke at all than to smoke something bland. People saddle th
eir senses with too many filters."
"But what about this train, the recirculated atmosphere?" Lewis asked. "Wouldn't it be better to live someplace with clean, wild air?"
"Sometimes it's hard to make the turn, and what's left behind can't be reclaimed. Especially in our case, when the slightest rearrangement—"
"So, how're you guys doing?" Gold asked.
Lewis wanted to scream. Perry had been about to say something important. It was certain he wouldn't reveal anything around Gold. Neither he nor Perry acknowledged Gold, but Gold kept talking, something about Brisbane's training.
"...interwoven objects. Today was balls and pins. My only regret is that I haven't found a more suitable receptacle in which to pour my wisdom."
Perry rose, claiming he needed to exercise his horse. Gold took Perry's seat and began describing a particular juggling trick he planned to unveil at their next show. He said he had named it for Leonora. Instead of listening, Lewis thought about ways to continue his research into the geometrical aspects of the circus. He envisioned a system of counterbalance wherein each member of the circus registered on a scale displaying their genetic background and reactions to the questions he chose. Maybe the circus could be divided into concentric circles, each a different color, representing different like elements, none of which have a true beginning or end. He admired the pattern on Gold's shirt, a woven grid of red, yellow, and blue. It made him think of fishing nets, or the plan of a compact and ordered city. Would all the buildings be identical if the streets were of uniform dimension? There had to be more variety for people to exist. Individuality would percolate to the surface.
Now Gold was talking about Leonora. "She finally cares about me. Still, she's not quite ready for conjugation. She says she wants to give the relationship time to gel, a process that can sometimes take several months."
Would Cybele continue to excite him so much if they were around each other all the time?
Circus of the Grand Design Page 13
