by Sarah Noffke
As he sat on the doorstep of Jasmine’s trailer, the newbie’s eyes studied Dave under the nearby tree. It was obvious why the ringmaster was stressed right now. One of his performers was sick. But Finley saw the nervous stress under that. Dave wasn’t just worried, he was on edge. And Finley had studied the ringmaster while they waited in the big top for Fanny to arrive. The ringmaster’s eyes swiveled from Jasmine’s lifeless body to the water bottle a few feet away. The one with his initials on it and also Jasmine’s lip gloss around the mouth of the bottle. The ringmaster may have been wrong in his suspicions, but he was suspicious now. He’d be more careful. He’d be vigilant. Finley wasn’t certain if that was going to work in his favor or not. People make mistakes when motivated by fear.
The newbie’s eyes then swiveled on Zuma. She hadn’t stopped moving since they were told to wait outside for a prognosis. Her concern drained her face of her normal spark. She was still beautiful, but now it was a poetic beauty, like a sad but elegantly written poem.
Finley stood in one fluid movement and reached out for Zuma as she passed. She sensed this and pulled herself away at once.
“Don’t,” she said, halting. Her frantic eyes covered Finley in a way that broke him a little.
Why had he reached for her? Did he think he had the right to comfort her? That she’d allow it? He wondered all of this as he watched her watching him. So many unspoken messages transpiring between the pair.
And yet Zuma’s quick rejection confounded all Finley’s reason. He instinctively knew he could make her feel better. He didn’t know how he knew that but with everything inside him he knew what Zuma needed. And now after staring at her face he knew she knew too and didn’t want it. Zuma wanted to be alone with her pain.
“I was just going to—”
She closed her eyes and nodded, cutting him off. When she looked back at him she almost appeared apologetic. “Yeah, I know.” She wrapped her arms around herself. Then her gaze shot to the side. She noticed Titus approaching before the rest of them. The man ran in their direction, worry blanketing his face. Dave caught sight of him and strode forward, meeting him.
“What’s going on?” Titus asked.
“We don’t know,” Dave said, shaking his head, worrying the rim of his top hat in his gloved hands. He used his hat as a toddler did a luv, kneading it for comfort. “Fanny is examining Jasmine now.”
The taller man hung his head, releasing a breath. “Tonight’s show, we’ll need—”
“Titus,” Dave said, a quiet warning in his voice. He was admonishing Titus for his one-track mind, always circling around the circus. It had been a contention among the two men. Titus focused on the show and Dave focused on the employees.
“I’m still concerned for Jasmine, but we need to figure out how to replace—”
“Titus, you resigned,” Dave said in a hush, hurt stinging his words.
The taller man covered the back of his neck with his large hand, keeping his eyes away from Dave’s. “Yeah, bad timing on that, I realize now.”
“But how at any time can you resign? And the way you did it, just having a kid drop off a note?” Dave shot his friend a look of serious disappointment.
From fifteen feet away Zuma and Finley couldn’t hear the two men’s exchange. Finley was reading the body language and knew Dave had the upper hand already, making Titus squirm with regret.
Zuma didn’t have to be able to hear to know exactly what was going on between the two. Jack arrived at her side with a look of curious concern. “What’s the deal?” he asked Zuma.
“Titus resigned because he’s tired of Dave using the ‘this is my circus’ card and trumping all his decisions,” Zuma said, her eyes hinged on the two men in the distance.
“It’s just not how I want to work anymore,” Titus said, his voice low so as to not attract attention. “You want me to invest my life in this circus and then you don’t trust my decisions, you don’t even give us the opportunity for discussion. You brought Finley in without talking to me. And then you won’t even consider the idea of adding extra shows. I’m just getting tired of having no say in the circus.”
“But I was right to bring Finley in midseason,” Dave said, throwing his arm in the newbie’s direction.
“That’s not the point,” Titus said. “You could have included me in the decision. We could have had a discussion about the extra shows. But instead you just say, ‘It’s my circus and no more discussion.’”
Dave sucked in a weighty breath, his face softening as he did. “Well, you know this circus can’t lose you so what do you want me to do to make this right?” Dave said and then a beat later he added, “And fair. How can I make our arrangement fair?”
“You know under the best circumstances I will manage this circus with you for the rest of my life,” Titus said, his words earnest. “I’m married to Vagabond Circus and the magic and healing it brings to its audiences.”
“So,” Dave said, stroking his chin, “the question is, what are the best-case circumstances?”
“I want to own part of the circus,” Titus said in a rehearsed voice.
“What?” Dave almost choked on the word.
Titus shook his hands in front of him. “Now, now, now. This isn’t about money. This is your baby and you gave me this position. I see all that for what it is. But I can’t make the best decisions for Vagabond Circus as long as you own it. Dave, you have to give up some of the control. You think with your heart and I think with my head. We make a great team, but not as long as you keep shutting me out. And you feel the weight of it because you know that if it fails then it’s on you. Let me own Vagabond Circus with you. Give me ten percent or five percent. Just give me something so that I own a piece of it and you can’t make unilateral decisions. Just give me enough so you remember I’m your partner.” Titus paused, his eyes studying Dave in that way Titus did when watching an act, looking for the part that was potentially missing.
Again and again Dave ran his fingers over the rim of the teal blue top hat. It was as old as the circus, patched in too many places. The ringmaster hung his head low, his eyes on the dirt under his feet, his mind reflecting on the proposition. After a long moment Dave brought his head up and stuck out a gloved hand. “I’ll give you the whole damn circus if you take back your resignation,” he said, a smile peeking out under his brown mustache. “Just keep me on as the ringmaster, would you?”
Titus coughed out a relieved chuckle. “Oh, Dave, I don’t want the whole circus, you know that.”
“I do, my friend, but you’re getting forty-nine percent. And maybe one percent of the time you’ll allow me to trump your decisions,” Dave said with that trademark glint in his eyes. This was perfect, Dave thought. Everything was lining up, just as Ian had said. He hadn’t expected the resignation but he had expected to give Titus part of the circus.
Titus now laughed loudly. “That’s a deal,” he said, clapping his hand into the ringmaster’s.
From the side of Fanny’s trailer a contagious smile lit up Zuma’s face. Jack was watching the two men. But Finley was watching Zuma, knowing that was all he had to do to know how the decision across the way was going.
“So Titus isn’t leaving?” Finley said.
Zuma looked at Finley suddenly. “How did you know?”
He traced his finger in the air, making a circle around her face. She swallowed hard and knew he spied the movement. Finley was always watching her. Never hiding it. But right now his eyes on her felt intimate, more so than usual.
“Yes,” she finally said. “Titus is staying and Dave has given him partial ownership of the circus.”
“Well, that’s going to change everything,” Finley said with a weighty sigh, like he was the one who had to draw up the paperwork or something.
“I don’t see how it will change anything much,” Jack argued.
Finley focused his eyes back on the two men, shaking hands and laughing. It didn’t change anything for most at Vagabond Circus, but it
meant Finley things had just gotten more complicated.
The creak of the trailer door opening ripped everyone’s attention in Fanny’s direction. She stood in the entryway, the curls on her head frizzy, no doubt from rushing about and caring for Jasmine for the last hour.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Fanny hadn’t even taken her first step out of the trailer when Zuma’s shoulders dropped with relief. “Oh, thank God, Jaz is okay,” she said.
Fanny gave her a tired smile. “Shall I give the news or would you rather pull all the information out of my brain and inform the group?” Fanny said, no menace in her voice.
“Sorry,” Zuma said at once. “My concern made me anxious to get information. I don’t usually get in your head, Fanny.”
“I believe you, dear,” she said and then turned her attention to Dave and Titus, who hurried over. “The good news is that Jasmine will be all right and after a day or two of rest I think she’ll be fine,” the woman said, taking turns alternating her clinical, yet warm stare between the two men.
“What’s the bad news?” Titus said, the cynical look he wore so well plastered across his face.
Fanny gave him a disappointed look. “Life isn’t just good and bad. There’s a whole array of in between, Titus,” she said in the admonishing tone she reserved for only him. “Anyways, the mysterious thing is I don’t know what made her ill. Jasmine is awake now and can’t account for anything that would cause her to become lightheaded and pass out. As far as I can tell her blood pressure dropped and her temperature spiked. Those two symptoms alone don’t tell me much.”
“Maybe she caught a virus,” Dave said, his gloved fingertips tapping together nervously, his eyes distant with thought.
“Maybe,” Fanny said, looking unconvinced. “I’ll keep an eye on her for the next few days but I think she’ll be fine. And hopefully whatever it was won’t return.”
Finley was fairly certain Jasmine wouldn’t be sick again. Her passing out was a mistake. She hadn’t been the target and that mistake wouldn’t be made twice.
“All right, well thank you, Fanny,” Dave said, his voice tired from the adrenaline.
“It’s my pleasure. I’m going back to our gal now,” she said and then the large woman heaved herself up the steps to the trailer.
“And we,” Dave said, sweeping his arm at the three people in front of him, “need to put our heads together and figure out how to reconfigure the acrobat acts in Minnie’s absence.”
Chapter Fifty-Six
It took the better part of an hour for the group to figure out how to replace Jasmine in the show. However, when it was done, Dave knew the show would still receive deafening applause. Vagabond Circus was about change. It moved from place to place, and reconfigured based on available performers. The ringmaster loved that about the circus. “Without change, we are dead,” he often said. Titus didn’t handle the improvising so well, but he was motivated by the desire to always produce a stellar show. And now the creative director had more of an investment in the Vagabond Circus. It was his and he wasn’t going to let it fail, not ever.
The acrobats knew an important part of their act was missing during that night’s show. Dave Raydon knew it. Felt it in his bones when he introduced Vagabond Circus. It was as if each performer’s energy registered in him during a show and he could feel Jasmine’s absence. To Dave a show was an organic being. It was created with real ingredients, by real people. It sometimes evolved and sometimes regressed. It lived and it died. Each show, each day, was alive for a brief period of time, like a human. And then as the audience exited the big top, the beating heart of that show slowed until it was no more.
Zuma for the first time ever completely skipped the after-show festivities. She had already made plans to relieve Fanny and watch over Jasmine for the night. The noise of happy crew members dancing around the bonfire was just noise to Zuma as it spilled through the cracks of Jasmine’s trailer. She didn’t feel left out of the celebration. There would be other parties. And she’d been to enough. Zuma was like Dave in this way. She was accepting. Fleeting experiences were never really missed by Zuma. And although she wasn’t a girl of faith, she somehow always knew if one thing prevented her from doing something it was because something better was in store for her. She trusted life.
Zuma nestled herself deeper into Jasmine’s sofa and flipped through the pages of a book. Although she had no intention of reading the book, she liked scanning its pages and stopping randomly to read a sentence. It was like she was stealing lines from the story and creating her own in her head. Jasmine had been sleeping for the last few hours, making Zuma’s job of caring for her easy.
From the back bedroom there came a stirring of sheets followed by an “Ugh!”
Zuma set the book to the side and checked on her friend, who was taking an incredibly long time to sit up.
“Z?” Jasmine said as she drew closer to her. Again and again the girl blinked, trying to bring Zuma into focus.
“I’m here, Jaz,” Zuma said from the doorway. “Do you need something?”
Jasmine wore a pale face, her eyes unfocused, and her brown hair matted to her head in various places. “A new brain would be nice,” Jasmine said, her voice hoarse from sleep. She rubbed at her temples before looking up. “Remember that time that we were rehearsing the trampoline act and I got too close to the platform?”
It was an act they’d perfected recently where the acrobats bounced back and forth from a trampoline to a series of high platforms that resembled a luscious woods. In the act they appeared to be creatures of the forest, hopping and flipping from tree to tree, and running up the sides of massive trunks before flying back to the mossy forest floor.
“Yeah, you smashed your head into the sharp corner of one of the trees. I think you took some paint off it with that hard head of yours,” Zuma said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “The poor crew had to do a bunch of repairs on the set before the next show.”
Jasmine almost smiled but stopped herself. “Don’t make me laugh, it hurts.”
“Jaz, you know I can’t make that promise,” Zuma said, smiling fondly at her friend. “I can’t help that I’m hilarious.”
“Well, if you’ll stop focusing your concern on some plywood for a second,” Jasmine said, the light in her eyes looking to be restored second by second that she spoke with Zuma, “I was going to say, that’s how my head feels right now.”
“Do you feel nauseous?” Zuma asked.
At that, Jasmine grabbed her midsection, like the question prompted a sudden stomachache. “Yeah.”
“Well, I’ll go grab Fanny. She might be able to give you one of her homebrewed remedies. I don’t think she wanted to give you anything earlier, hoping your body would repair itself,” Zuma said, standing. She paused in the doorway and looked back at Jasmine. “Are you all right if I leave you for a few?” Nearly losing Jasmine had almost made Zuma a little sentimental. There were few people she’d really miss if they left or died and Jasmine was one of them. Zuma loved everyone, but to her, most were replaceable.
“I’m fine and go ahead and get that sappy look off your face. It doesn’t suit you at all,” Jasmine said, her normal spunk back.
Zuma mock scowled at her friend. “Fine, I’ll go get Fanny for you so you can feel better. But first, I might stop off at the after-party for a few hours on my way,” she said, heading for the door. Then she called over her shoulder, “You’ll just have to wait to find out what I do.”
Zuma rushed by the after-party, not even throwing it a casual glance. She had thought that she’d find Fanny in her trailer, but she wasn’t there. When she was just about to double back to the after-party, thinking the caretaker was there supervising the kids, Zuma heard two low voices in the recreational area. And although usually she’d have ignored them, they were two voices that were incredibly recognizable to her. Finley’s and Fanny’s. They were speaking in whispers, which Zuma found extremely curious. And even more intriguing was they we
re sitting at a picnic table both hunched over a book.
To Zuma’s disappointment, her presence didn’t go unnoticed for long. Fanny turned at once, sensing the girl at her back.
“Well, Ms. Zuma, you found me,” Fanny said, a smile visible through the moonlit sky. “I am supposing you were looking for me, am I right?”
Finley turned, startled at first and then brought his eyes low to the table. Zuma watched him for a second before responding. “I was. It’s Jaz. She’s awoken and has a headache and nausea. Is there something you can do for her?”
“Well, I can sure try,” Fanny said, pulling her long thick legs out from between the picnic table and the bench with great effort. She turned back to Finley once she was standing. “I’ll be back in just a few, darling.”
He nodded, his eyes to the side, a strangeness about him. Finley felt Zuma’s scrutinizing glare on him and hadn’t had a chance to recover from her sudden appearance. He admonished himself for not being more on guard, but he’d have to make up for it now.
Fanny hurried past Zuma, unconcerned that the girl didn’t follow her, but rather stood staring at Finley with curious eyes.
“What are you doing here with Fanny?” she asked, noticing the small flashlight in Finley’s hand. He twirled it in his fingers before bringing his focus to meet her.
No longer did Finley look flustered. Across his face was a playful grin. “Would you believe we’re having a secret love affair?”
She laughed and he relished the sound almost as much as the fact that he was the one who caused it in her. “No, I wouldn’t believe that.”
He shrugged indifferently. “Well, then the reason will just have to remain a mystery to you.”
“Do you think being a guy of mystery makes you more attractive?”
