by Sarah Noffke
“I refuse to allow the world to turn into a series of gray emotions,” Dr. Raydon said to Zuma on her first day. She remembered the smell of dirt and hay in the air. The cool breeze wafting through the open tent. And the excited eyes of the ringmaster as he sat before her. He focused his gaze fondly at the top hat on the table before returning it to her. “In my psychiatric practice grown men told me there was nothing to live for. Women with perfect health told me they were lost. Children complained about having too much responsibility. It was then that I realized how defective the population was. And, you know, the cure was so simple to me.”
Dave had then smiled broadly, a knowing look in his eyes. “There’s no reason anyone should ever feel lonely when there’s love everywhere. There’s no excuse for talented people to trudge through life. And if we weigh down our children, the very source that makes the stars blaze in the sky, then we may wake to realize we’ve lost something irretrievable.” He then sucked in a breath and released a fond sigh as he stared out at nothing. “Vagabond Circus has one main goal and that’s to inspire. We want to reach those who have lost the spark in their eyes, and the repercussions to that will be tenfold. If we show these people, these lost souls, that magic exists in us, then they will find it in themselves. If you, my friend, want to remind the world that true magic is in each and every person then I invite your talent in my circus. But this isn’t just an agreement you enter into with me.” His tone suddenly had grown cautious, while still inviting. “You are making this agreement with your fellow humans. You are agreeing to save them from monotony and starched suits and deadlines. You’re agreeing to make them feel something. And part of that agreement is to give them the gift to smile for no reason. To laugh unabashedly. To revert to who they used to be before they forgot how incredible life is.” Then Dave would stick out a gloved hand, offering it to the would-be Vagabond Circus member. “If this sounds like the right place and job for you then no words are necessary, let’s just shake on it.”
And the ringmaster was strategic in his approach, because most had been so inspired and reenergized by Dave’s speech that a handshake was all they could manage. But now that speech was dead, just as the man who had given it hundreds of times was too. Would his circus die now? The idea made Zuma want to throw herself to the ground. Beat the earth under her feet. Kick until the bruises and gashes she caused on her body from the tantrum stole her attention from her bleeding heart.
“Zuma,” Jack said, turning and realizing she hadn’t moved. Her eyes were frozen on a single spot, not seeing it. She had made herself momentarily catatonic to keep everything locked inside her.
Jack retreated back to her, his face kind. “Are you coming?”
Zuma tried to shake her head but it was useless. “No,” she finally whispered.
“Okay, do you want me to take you to your trailer?” Jack had a worry in his tone, like he was afraid his voice could break her.
She was acting fragile. That was unacceptable. Zuma pulled her eyes up and found Finley staring at her like he didn’t recognize her suddenly. Stone. I’m stone, she thought.
“No,” she said with a deliberate force. She pulled her gaze to Jack standing in front of her. “Help Titus. I’ll see you later.”
He nodded and then she turned and took calculated steps away. Each stride she took peeled back her determination and the beast inside of her threatened to break loose, bringing tears of unending grief to the surface. Once it was loose then it would never be tamed. She would be its prisoner.
The trailer door shut behind her and Zuma jerked the last remaining strap off the beast. She always knew she was meant to be broken. The girl crumbled to her knees, her arms gripping her abdomen as the tears tore out of her. Her cries spasmed through her core, bringing a pain unlike any she’d ever experienced. Last year she broke three ribs and this felt worse. How can emotions bring such physical agony to the body? she wondered. Those ribs were healed by Fanny, but there was nothing the older woman could do for Zuma now. She was forever broken.
Chapter Seventy-One
Jack didn’t knock on the trailer door. He knew Zuma wouldn’t hear him over her tears, her muffled cries. And he’d been able to operate out of adrenaline, but staring at Zuma, curled up in a ball and sobbing, ended his stoic sabbatical. He kneeled to the ground and covered her with his arms, and joined her in her grief. Large sobs raked through his chest as he came to terms with what Zuma had faced ten minutes prior. Dr. Dave Raydon was dead. The founder of Vagabond Circus was never coming back. Their ringmaster had been murdered. People fear the worst and this for Jack was it. Just the realization that Dave was gone made the old anxiety race through the acrobat’s head. He didn’t know who he was without Dave to remind him.
“You’re a star, my boy,” the ringmaster told him before his first show. “I’ll remind you of that as often as you need, but one day you’ll need to believe it on your own.”
But Dave couldn’t slap Jack on the shoulder and boom those three words. And Jack hadn’t gotten to the place where he believed it on his own. He always thought he had time. Time for Dave’s words to sink in. But they hadn’t and now without Dave he was “just Jack,” the boy who hadn’t met his family’s standards. He was a loser.
Zuma shifted to a sitting position, cradling Jack as he cried on her shoulder. They had switched positions, and that was fine by Zuma since for the moment she couldn’t squeeze out another tear. This state was fleeting, though, and soon she’d crumble from the tears that had only momentarily retreated.
The two acrobats held onto each for a good part of an hour. Finally Jack stood, pulling Zuma up with him. Then he sat her on the sofa, taking great care to ensure she was okay before he fetched them both water from the refrigerator.
“How can he be gone?” Zuma said, staring blankly at the wall.
“I don’t know,” Jack said, his voice raw.
He handed her a bottle of water but she simply shook her head at it.
“And who would ever want Dave dead?” Jack said, setting the bottle beside her on the table.
“Dead! He’s dead,” she said and brought her hands up to catch the tears that had returned. “I…can’t…take…this…” she said through hyperventilated breaths.
“Shhh,” Jack soothed, sitting beside her and wrapping her trembling body with his own. “You are my girl of stone. You can deal with this, but you don’t have to all at once. We will deal with it together.”
She nodded into his shoulder, her sobs having dissipated briefly. “God, Jack, what would I do without you? I’d be an even bigger mess.”
Jack pulled back, his eyes weighted. “I know. Me too.” Then he reached up and pushed away a strand of hair that was matted to her cheek by tears of glue. “I’m here for you, Zuma. Lean on me and I’ll lean on you. We will need that so we can be strong for the rest of the circus. They will find out soon.”
Zuma released a strained breath. “Yeah,” she said in a croak. And then realized Jack’s hand was still resting on her chin. She looked at him. Really looked at him and recognized the expression in his eyes. She made to pull away from him just as he leaned into her, like he was going to hug her but then his lips pressed against hers. A raw ache in the kiss. Their pain echoed in the act of affection. He pressed his mouth to hers for only a second and then pulled back. It had been a chaste kiss, but it communicated so much. It made so many things clear for the both of them.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Jack said. “I’m not thinking.”
“We are both trying to find comfort right now. It’s okay, Jack,” she said, pushing back on the sofa, away from him.
“I always pictured that…” Jack said and then couldn’t finish his sentence.
Zuma knew he wanted her to make it easier by her just reading his thoughts, and she needed to. Needed to know they shared the same thought.
Just lips. Jack’s mouth on hers just felt like lips. No spark. No power. The kiss didn’t stop her heart or speed it up. And the o
nly relief that day came when she read the thoughts sitting on top of Jack’s head.
“Well, at least we know now,” she said.
“Was it the same for you?” he asked, sitting back on his heels, away from her.
She nodded. “Good thing we never screwed up our careers trying to find out before now.” And then the implications of that statement brought their current reality back to the forefront of her mind. None of it mattered anymore. Her career. The rules. Her passing desires.
Dave was dead.
“Jack, we cannot allow the circus to fail. If we owe Dave anything then we have to keep it going. No matter what,” she said, standing, realizing she wasn’t crying. The dull ache smothered the tears for now.
Jack nodded. “I promise, we will keep it going.”
Zuma didn’t know what he was going to do, but she knew that if there was one person she could stake certainty in, it was Jack Fuller. He would never let Dave down.
“I have to go now. I feel like I’m about to pass out,” she said, retreating to her bedroom, stumbling on her feet. Jack watched her go, knowing what he had to do. Even if it killed him. He couldn’t let Zuma down. He couldn’t let Vagabond Circus down. He had to do it for Dave.
Chapter Seventy-Two
Finley described where the location of Knight’s compound could be found to Titus. He didn’t really know street names, except the ones he’d learned from George Anders when he escaped and was looking for a hiding spot. Still, he knew how to describe the things around the compound. He’d been in and out of there so many times, on so many different jobs. LA was large, but the compound had a few things surrounding it that were distinct. Titus jotted all this down, asking follow-up questions as Finley spoke. It burned him up the way the creative director could form questions and write at the same time. Titus probably didn’t even realize what a gift he had, and that he was just flaunting it in front of Finley’s face.
He left the miniature big top without being dismissed, needing fresh air. Jack had left it twenty minutes before, saying that he thought someone should check on Zuma. Finley wanted to be that person. Needed to be, but there was no way for him to create that reality for himself, not after how everything happened.
The people of Vagabond Circus would find out the news of Dave’s death tomorrow. The authorities would be brought in. Titus was only going to allow himself that night to investigate, but Finley already knew what he’d find. Little evidence and no way to identify the murderer, except by the deadly poison he left behind. And that was inefficient to catch Sebastian. He was already back under Knight’s protection. Finley knew this.
The grounds were almost silent as Finley walked through the trailers, his mind tearing at itself. He stopped, struck by a stream of light. It stood out in the dark trailer area, everyone else’s curtains drawn for the night. And the person in the trailer was like her light, she shone in the dark. She was what always captured his attention. Zuma was the light in Finley’s life and he had ruined everything. He had done the one thing she’d never forgive, failed to stop a man she loved from dying. Finley had almost allowed it, he saw now. He had allowed himself to be distracted by Zuma, and the circus, and by spoiling his needs and desires for the first time ever. Could Zuma ever understand that she had been the reason he didn’t catch Sebastian? Was it incredibly unfair to tell her that once she entered his life he lost sight of everything as he feared he’d do? He wasn’t thinking clearly, that was certain. Anxiety and loss were creating chaos in his head.
Like he had months ago, he stood watching through the open window as Zuma crossed the space in her trailer. To Finley’s relief she sat on the sofa in full view. Looking at her made him feel almost human again.
A breeze drifted through the campgrounds smelling of pine and leaves. Medford was just a few miles away. Their first show for its people was tomorrow, but he and Zuma wouldn’t be performing together again. He knew that for certain. She’d never work with him in the big top again.
Zuma wasn’t laughing as she was the first time he’d spied her through her window. It tortured him in new ways to watch her cry. Painful moans escaped her, seeming to vibrate her chest. He wanted to comfort her, needed to wrap his arms around her. He knew they had a bond unlike any other. He could make her feel better. Finley remembered her lips on his, the way they filled him with a love so pure they erased so many scars inside of him. He knew he could do that for her. There was something they did for each other. To each other.
Finley bolstered his confidence and took three steps in the direction of Zuma’s trailer and then he froze. Through the window he spied Jack crouch in front of her. He didn’t hesitate before wrapping her in his arms. She reciprocated pulling him closer, burying her head in his shoulder as she cried. Finley couldn’t move. He was frozen, forcing himself to watch the last thing he wanted to see. He’d had Zuma. She was his to hold and he lost her. Made her hate him.
Fire burned in his chest as the pair held onto each other. Jack finally pulled back, but not enough. He stayed close to Zuma, whose face was red from crying. Jack slipped his hand across her cheek, probably pushing away tears. And then Finley watched his fingers pause on the side of her face. He knew what was coming. Knew watching this was creating new scars, but still he remained focused, spying. And then Jack leaned in and kissed Zuma. It wasn’t a passionate kiss, like the one they’d shared, but it was still a kiss, a slow one, reeking with their pain. And then Zuma pulled away, her hands at her side pushing her back on the couch. Was she pushing away from Jack? Finley couldn’t tell. Maybe he was believing what he needed to. But then she shook her head. Stood suddenly. Disappeared into the back of the trailer. Finley’s focus blurred, his head suddenly spinning with confusion and pain. It didn’t matter what he’d just seen. He knew before witnessing Zuma kiss Jack that he’d lost her forever.
Chapter Seventy-Three
Zuma fell asleep less than a minute after Jack left. She hadn’t meant to abandon him, but she couldn’t grant him company when she desperately needed to be alone. Having not slept since she was in Finley’s arms she fell asleep immediately, her mind falling straight into REM sleep, dreams and nightmares crashing down on her.
It felt like awakening in a nightmare when Zuma stirred the next morning, her head heavy from crying. In her dreams she’d forgotten her reality, but now it pressed in all around her. Dave was dead.
She showered and pulled on a pair of jeans and a knit top she never wore. She really only wore workout clothes but she wasn’t working out today. She didn’t care if Titus decided not to cancel the shows, they’d go on without her. She couldn’t look in the direction of the big top. Who would replace Dave as ringmaster? It was wrong to replace him, and then to lose Vagabond Circus was also wrong. It was Dave’s legacy and couldn’t just crumble in his absence. Tears again streamed down her recently powdered cheeks. Zuma didn’t want to leave her trailer sobbing but soon she had to get out of there.
She dug through her drawers, searching for keys she hadn’t used in a long time. Finally she found them at the back of a drawer of art supplies. She hardly used her car, but it was on the lot somewhere. Dave always had it moved with the circus and ready for her if she cared to drive it. She ran her fingers over the Audi emblem on the car fob, her head swimming with the multiple things Dave had done for her. It was overwhelming. He took care of her. He cared for everyone at Vagabond Circus. Who would do that now?
She exited the trailer with her head down. People were starting to stir. Soon they would get the news. Titus would call a meeting or something. Zuma wouldn’t be there. She’d be as far away from the circus as she could get. And since she’d pushed him away last night she decided that she’d invite Jack to join her. She didn’t think he’d want to stay here either. He always wanted to get away from the circus when things got too difficult, and what was more difficult than Dave being murdered? Nothing.
Zuma hoped that Jack kept his distance though. They were friends and that’s what she needed now. Her
life couldn’t grow anymore complicated with choices and frustrations. She knocked on his trailer door and was surprised when it swung open from the small force of her rap.
“Jack?” she called.
No answer. The trailer was dark. Empty. She didn’t care for dark, empty trailers anymore. It felt like a curse.
But on the bulletin board over his sofa there was something out of place. Her eyes swiveled to it immediately. Over the pictures of the acrobats performing nationwide was a white piece of paper. On it in large black letters was her name: “ZUMA.”
She crossed the space and ripped the note down. Her eyes moved too quickly across it, taking in the important words: protect, circus, left, revenge.
A hive of fear started to swarm inside her chest. She took a deep breath and forced her eyes to the top.
Zuma,
I know that Vagabond Circus will never be the same without Dave. But it is doomed to be half of what it was with his murderer roaming free. I trust Titus with most things, but I don’t think he’ll take the risk to really go after Knight. He’ll take the safe option: keep an eye on him, up security, recruit with more scrutiny. I’m going to protect what Dave created. I’m going to save the circus. I’ve left to exact Dave’s revenge. Please take care of the circus. I’ll be back soon.
Love,
Jack
“No,” she said out loud. She didn’t know what he was thinking. He was obviously motivated by his grief. Why had he left her? Why had he left her behind?
Zuma turned and raced for Titus’s office. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe she could still catch Jack.
She raced to the mini big top Titus and Dave shared as their office. She choked on tears at the thought of Dave. Could she really enter his sacred office space knowing he’d left it for good? Her thoughts turned to Jack as she pushed the flap back and stepped into the tent.
