by Diane Zahler
One of the Bellamys spoke. “That’s just cruel, what he did to Julietta. We’re all together here. We help each other.”
“Master Morogh doesn’t,” Mattie said.
“No, he doesn’t,” another Bellamy agreed. “He likes to fire people. He’s done that a lot.”
“That’s right,” Selena said. “I remember hearing about … who was it? Oh, the sword swallower!”
“Yes,” a third Bellamy said. “We were here then. Morogh tossed him right out.”
“Why?”
“Well, he couldn’t swallow the swords anymore. Imagine that.”
Mattie winced. “Ouch,” she said, and the Bellamy nodded.
“Exactly. He nearly cut his own head right off.”
“Did that really happen, Maso?” Selena asked. She sounded uncertain.
“Is anything in a circus real?” Maso asked. “Are you real? Am I?” He flipped backward in a circle, breaking the solemn spell that Julietta’s firing had cast.
Mattie stared at Maso, her eyes narrowed. It was impossible to tell if he was just fooling around or trying to say something serious.
“Good-bye, all!” The other Bellamys followed their brother, backflipping in a line toward their wagon.
“Poor Julietta,” Selena said as she walked Mattie, Bell, and Tibby to their door. “I hope she can find another job.”
“I’ll bet she can,” Mattie said. “She’s really good on the tightrope—as long as she doesn’t sing.”
Selena nodded morosely. “I guess we’d all better watch out. I mean, if I fall on the trapeze, is he going to fire me?”
Mattie snorted. “Will he fire your clowns if their red noses come off? Will he fire the elephant if it poops in the ring?”
“Mattie!” Selena couldn’t help smiling, and Tibby hooted with laughter.
“He’s going to hypnotize me,” Bell told Selena. “He said he would.”
“You shouldn’t,” Selena said. Mattie looked at her sharply.
“Why not?” Bell asked.
Selena scuffed the dirt with her soft slipper. “You just shouldn’t. I’ve seen him do it. It’s …” Her voice trailed off.
“Creepy?” Mattie offered.
“Worse than creepy.”
Bell frowned. “Well, I want to get hypnotized, and I’m going to.”
“Watch his act on opening night,” Selena advised. “Then decide.”
There was lunch after rehearsals, in the big cookhouse tent. Maya came, and the Marvelwoods sat with the Silvas. The tent had three long picnic tables, and the muscled, blue-jeaned rousties talked and laughed with the artistes, who wore spandex and sequins. At some circuses, Mattie knew, the groups ate apart. There were plenty of artistes who thought they were better than the rousties and wouldn’t spend time with them. Mattie was pleased to see that at the Circus of Wonders, everyone sat together.
“Master Morogh eats in his wagon,” Selena said as Mattie looked around. “Thank goodness.”
People stopped by to greet them. They met the cook, Stewie, and Selena introduced Maya to the Bellamys and got all their names right again. Tibby’s face when the quintuplets came up to her was priceless. For once, she was too amazed to say a word. But as soon as they left to get their own lunch trays, she exploded.
“Nine of them! All the same!”
Everyone laughed, which annoyed her.
“Five,” Mattie corrected, but Tibby shook her head.
“Nine, all just the same!” she said in a hushed voice. Nine it was, then.
Ahmad the tiger tamer was already eating when they sat down, and he didn’t bother to get up and come over. He didn’t even look their way. Mattie was secretly glad, fearful that he might say something about the incident with his cats. But Dee the bullhand, who trained both the elephants and the dogs, plopped her tray down next to Mrs. Silva.
“You do dogs and elephants both?” Mattie asked, taking a bite of macaroni and cheese. It was delicious.
“Don’t speak with your mouth full,” Maya scolded automatically.
Mattie frowned. “Stop nagging!” she hissed.
Dee ran her hands through her short blond hair, making it stand straight up. There was a streak of bright blue that ran down the back of her head, and she had seven earrings in one ear and four in the other. Tattoos covered her arms—not snakes, like Dane at the carnival, but vivid vines and flowers and small, strange birds.
“Pinga—that’s the elephant—she’s old,” she said. “She was already trained when we got her. She’s been in the circus since she was born, and her parents before her. And the dogs—well, I just love dogs. And the dogs love Pinga. So we all work together.”
“The dogs love the elephant?” Bell asked, intrigued.
Dee laughed. “Really, they do. You have to see it. They’re all in the act. They sleep together at night.”
This idea excited Tibby so much she almost floated off the bench. Mattie grabbed her. “We’ll go look after lunch if you stay put,” she promised in a whisper, pushing Tibby back down.
Bell was just lifting an apple to his mouth to take a bite when someone reached from behind and grabbed it out of his hand. The Marvelwoods spun around to see an immensely tall, skinny man with streaks of white makeup on his face throw the apple in the air. A second person—a man in a big red clown nose—caught it, and suddenly he was juggling two apples. A third, wearing oversized pants and with a bird perched on his shoulder, tossed in an orange, which matched the color of his frizzy hair, and now three objects spun, red– orange–red, almost too fast to see. Tibby howled with delight until the juggler caught the fruit, then bowed low to the Marvelwoods’ applause. The three men sat down on the other side of the table.
“I’m Solomon,” the juggler said. “This oaf here is Bub, and the nut with the bird is Chaz. We’re clowns.”
At first Mattie thought that the gray parrot on Chaz’s shoulder was fake—it sat so still and looked so elegant—but when Bub grabbed Chaz’s mac and cheese, the bird squawked, “Thief! Thief!” Chaz reached over and got Bub in a headlock, but Bub flipped Chaz over his shoulder, rattling the table, spilling drinks, and making the bird flutter to another table where it shrieked, “Stop that, gentlemen! Stop that!” Tibby laughed so hard Mattie was afraid she’d wet her pants.
After lunch, the Marvelwoods all took a nap in the wagon to make up for the nearly sleepless night. It was almost dusk when Mattie got up, groggy with that awful post-nap feeling. But when Maya answered a soft knock at the door, Tibby’s shriek of joy roused her fast. She scrambled out of her bunk and ran into the main room.
Tibby stood gazing up, up, up at an enormous elephant right outside the wagon. Dee had her hand on the beast’s leg. The elephant was old; it was obvious from her bleary eyes. She’d seen a lot. Mattie was tempted to touch her, but recalling the desolation of Hasha’s thoughts, she held back.
“Oooh,” Tibby breathed, awed. She’d never seen a real elephant before—only the ones Da conjured up. She reached out, but Dee stopped her.
“You have to be really careful, Tibby,” Dee warned. “She’s gentle, but she doesn’t like surprises. Let her know you’re there.”
“Hello,” Tibby whispered.
“She’s a little deaf,” Dee said.
“Hello!” Tibby shouted. The elephant blinked. Her eyes were nearly hidden in wrinkled gray skin. Tibby held out her hand, and the elephant curled her trunk and then uncurled it, touching Tibby’s hand. At the end of the trunk was a sort of finger, and it stroked Tibby’s palm.
“It’s warm,” Tibby said, amazed.
“That’s Pinga’s way of saying hi,” Dee told her. “It’s like she’s shaking hands.” Bell shook hands with the elephant next, and then Mattie held out her hand, forgetting.
Tired. Sleep, sleep. A wash of images, like with the tiger: bumping along in a wagon, circus rings. Loud music. Dogs barking. A feeling of contentment and drowsiness.
Mattie took her hand away and yawned so wide it hurt her jaw.
Dee laughed. “You’re as sleepy as she is!”
“Poor old thing,” Mattie said. “It must be her bedtime.”
“She just had her rehearsal. A little hay for her, then rest. Come on and meet the dogs.”
“Can we?” Mattie asked Da. Da nodded his approval, and they ran off with Dee to the elephant’s wagon. Four dogs napped in the straw there, but they woke up in a hurry when they noticed new people. A white, fuzzy one started licking Tibby’s face the minute it saw her. A wiry terrier type jumped as high as Mattie’s shoulder. A little hairless pup that looked kind of ratlike ran in circles, yapping wildly. The fourth was black and white, bigger than the others, with spots on his paws like little polka-dotted socks. He trotted right up to Mattie and sat at her feet, cocking his head to one side.
“That’s Tray,” Dee said. “The other ones are Blanch, Sweetheart, and Crab. Tray is the boss. He’s really smart.”
“Hey, Tray,” Mattie said, petting him. Treat, food? she heard. Walk? This was what she usually got from dogs. From cats it was just food and petting and sometimes Leave me alone. But then, as Mattie stroked Tray’s soft ears, she heard, Different from the others. Was he thinking that about her? Mattie stared at him, and he cocked his head to the other side. He looked like he was smiling.
The other dogs leaped around her, and their minds were full of play and snack. Tibby sat right down among them and they crawled all over her, except for Tray, who stayed by Mattie’s side.
“Looks like you have a friend,” Dee said. She tossed Mattie a dog biscuit, and Mattie handed it to Tray.
“He’s wonderful.” Mattie scratched him behind his ears. Oooh, nice, he thought. Good human. She laughed.
“All right, kids,” Dee said to the dogs. “Bedtime.”
Obediently, the dogs followed Pinga as she made her way heavily into her wagon, and they curled up in the straw around her stumpy feet. “She sleeps standing up,” Dee explained. “Otherwise, she’d never get back up.”
“Good night, dogs and elephant!” Tibby called to them. “See you tomorrow!”
They joined the others in the tent for dinner, a delicious meal of thick stew and hot biscuits and pie, and then the rousties built a bonfire in the field behind the big top. There were three of them who were permanent with the circus—Juan, Sal, and Max—all in jeans and dirty tees. They’d made friends with Da already, since they’d fixed the truck together, and Da helped them drag tree branches over to the fire. Bell, Tibby, and Mattie roasted marshmallows over the flames, and Selena and her brother Stefano came over to sit with them.
Selena plopped down next to Maya, who sat cross-legged on a blanket. “What’s that on your hand?” she asked.
Maya held out her hand, which was covered with henna designs of flowers and leaves.
“Wow,” Selena said, awed. “That is so pretty!”
Mattie looked at the tracery. She didn’t usually notice it, but it was kind of pretty. Maya did the henna work herself. She always urged Mattie to try it out, but Mattie refused.
“Would you like me to paint some on you?” Maya asked Selena, giving Mattie a sideways look. Mattie rolled her eyes.
“Really, would you? I’d love it!” Selena said.
Maya smiled a real smile, not one of her dreamy fortune-teller smiles. “Come by when you have some free time,” she said, and Selena clapped her hands with pleasure.
Sal the roustie brought out a mandolin. He sang in a rough, low voice traveling songs Mattie had never heard before. Then Da conferred with him and they sang a Scottish tune together in perfect harmony.
For fame and for fortune I wandered the earth
And now I’ve come back to the land of my birth
I’ve brought back my treasures but only to find
They’re less than the pleasures I first left behind
For these are my mountains and this is my glen
The braes of my childhood will know me again
No land’s ever claimed me tho’ far I did roam
For these are my mountains and I’m going home.
It was a mournful tune. Mattie gazed at the faces around the fire, all a little sad but in a good way, the kind of sadness that music can make you feel.
They sang a livelier song next, with one of the rousties keeping time with sticks on a log, a homemade drum, and everyone joining in for the chorus. Before long, Solomon had grabbed Mrs. Silva for a dance, and then Da did a jig while Sal played and they all clapped in time to the beat of the stick-drum. Da was wild in the firelight, his face as red as his hair as he danced.
“Your dad is Scottish, right?” Selena asked, swaying to the music. Mattie nodded. “And your mom is … ?”
“Indian,” Mattie said. “India Indian.”
“How’d they meet?”
“In California. They were part of a circus there for a while. They’re both from Traveller families, but Maya’s people came from India to Ireland and then went to California. She was born there.”
“Travellers? You mean they like to travel?”
Mattie shook her head. “No. Well, yes, but that’s not what it means. Travellers are people who move around from place to place, like artistes do. Lots of them are artistes, but some of them just live that way, doing odd jobs and stuff. They’re sort of nomads, but in Scotland or Ireland, not in the desert.”
“Huh,” Selena said. “That is so much more interesting than my family. We’re all from Florida. Just plain Florida. So your parents are like Gypsies?”
“No,” Mattie told her. “Gypsies are from different places than Travellers. And lots of people use Gypsy almost like a bad word. People don’t like Gypsies. They think they steal and give people the evil eye. It’s not true, but we still don’t like to be called that.”
“Sorry!” Selena said, holding up her hands. “I’ll never say it again.”
There was a sudden silence, and Mattie looked up as Master Morogh walked into the flickering firelight. He’d taken off his fancy jacket but still wore his ringmaster’s pants and shirt and his black gloves. He signaled to the musicians, opened his mouth, and began to sing.
Though Master Morogh’s speaking voice was deep and low, his singing voice was high, pure as a harp. It sounded almost like a woman’s voice. He sang a song in a language Mattie didn’t know. Even without understanding the words, she could tell it was a love song.
“It’s Italian,” Selena said. “It’s about a clown who lost his beloved. Very, very sad.”
“A clown love song!” Bell exclaimed, poking Mattie. “That’s ridiculous!”
“That’s sort of the point,” Selena told him. “The clown is ridiculous, but he still loves just like anyone else. It’s what makes it so sad.”
Everyone clapped like crazy after Master Morogh finished. The ringmaster bowed deeply and walked back toward the wagons.
“He has a beautiful voice,” Mattie said to Selena.
“I know. I never heard him sing before.” Selena looked uneasy.
Nobody wanted to sing after that, so the music changed to something low and soft. Da and Maya, Mr. and Mrs. Silva, and Sofia and a Bellamy danced a slow waltz. Mattie loved watching her parents together in the fire’s glow, Maya’s sari whirling out as Da spun her, his arm tight around her waist. The stars gleamed like colored jewels overhead, and the warm breeze pushed the flames this way and that. Selena and Bell sat on either side of her, and Tibby was quiet for once, resting on Mattie’s lap.
It was without a doubt one of the best nights of Mattie’s life.
CHAPTER 6
For the next three days Master Morogh oversaw the placement of every bench and every rope and guy wire. He watched rehearsals until they met with his approval—three claps of his gloved hands meant he thought the artistes were ready. He made sure the sawdust was strewn evenly and the lights hung perfectly along the midway to show the food trucks and the Marvelwoods’ wagon and his own hypnotist’s booth to best advantage for the incoming crowd.
Mattie spent as mu
ch of that time as she could with Selena. They helped Dee with the dogs, and Mattie taught Tray to play patty-cake with Tibby. Tray sat upright on his hind legs and used his front paws, and he and Tibby both loved it. He learned Mattie’s name quickly. She loved petting him and hearing him think, Nice Mattie, what a good Mattie! Every time she burst out laughing.
When they wanted to get away from Tibby and Bell, Mattie and Selena would slip away to the Silvas’ wagon, which was a lot fancier and bigger than the Marvelwoods’. Selena showed her the bunk beds that folded down at night like the Marvelwoods’, only more of them, and a little bathroom at one end that could be hooked up to water lines.
“You can take a shower anytime you want,” Mattie said enviously.
“I know, isn’t it brilliant? You can come by and use it whenever you like.”
Master Morogh’s circus had showers in the back yard behind the big top, so Mattie didn’t really need it. But there were plenty of times when she’d have given just about anything to have a bathroom in her wagon.
Selena even had a television, though it didn’t get any channels. But they could watch movies on it. Mr. Silva was obsessed with westerns, so it was a choice between those and the sappy romantic comedies Sofia liked. They watched a lot of John Wayne, with his funny way of talking. Selena had memorized some of his lines. She liked to make her voice low and gravelly and growl things like, “Don’t say it’s a fine morning or I’ll shoot you.” And after Mattie had seen a few John Wayne movies, she could reply with her own quote, in the same voice: “That would cause me great annoyance and displeasure.” She wasn’t actually crazy about westerns, but it was fun to see them with Selena.
It was fun just to be with Selena. Mattie felt as if she’d known her all her life. They sat cross-legged on Selena’s bunk and told each other everything—well, almost everything. Mattie knew about the crush Selena had on a boy in the Florida school she went to in the off season. He was freckled and funny and hadn’t paid one single bit of attention to her.
“I’ll bet he does this year,” Mattie said as she and Selena tried on Sofia’s enormous collection of sparkly headbands. Selena was so pretty—how could he not? “At least you’ve known boys to have crushes on. I’ve only had them on boys in books.”
