Vagabond Circus Series

by Sarah Noffke

  Finley was about to protest when Fanny rose to full height. She was the stature of the average man and had the shoulders to match. “Mr.…?”

  “Just Finley. No mister’s necessary,” Finley said, his eyes still pinned on the trailer door where Emily had disappeared.

  “Mr. Finley, I’m sure you’re a reputable gentleman with many qualities I’ll come to admire,” Fanny began, her eyes matching the sincerity in her voice. “But until I have the time and honor to appreciate you as a person, I ask that you kindly stay away from my children. It’s nothing personal toward you, only that I don’t personally know you and want to keep my kids protected from the unknown.”

  Finley hadn’t been offended per se and yet he had been slightly banished. He didn’t know what to make of this woman, who had perfect reason for her protection, but was taking her prejudice of the unknown and throwing it at him. He opened his mouth to argue and at that moment his ears were punished by the sound of laughter. A laughter he knew. Slowly he turned to catch Zuma giggling by the side of her friend. They, of course, had witnessed the whole thing. His good behavior and his humiliation. What they would remember would probably be the latter.

  “Yes, of course,” he said, bowing to the woman. “I completely understand, Mrs.…?”

  “Just miss and you can call me Fanny.”

  He arched a disbelieving eyebrow at the older woman. “Yes, Fanny. I look forward to getting to know you.”

  The caretaker then blushed and that’s exactly what prompted the end of Zuma’s laughter.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It was strange to Finley to just walk up to a counter at a truck and order food. That was the first strange part and then the second, almost stranger part, was that a chipper man handed him a Styrofoam plate full of steaming food without asking for a cent. The man had turned away almost immediately, back to the grill, when Finley opened his mouth to ask questions. He shoved the disputes back in his mouth and turned to the many tables lining the common area. It felt odd to sit alone, making himself an outcast at once. Therefore he decided to be bold and plucked himself down at a table that was bristling with noise. It was a table of performers. Not the acrobats, who were two tables over, spying and dissecting his every move. The table Finley chose was the one with the illusionist, Oliver, and the triplets who juggled using telekinesis, and then another girl who he remembered had the fire act. They laughed and conversed adamantly and hardly noticed him when he sat down.

  Finley was pretty certain they were making a show of pretending that him choosing their table was nothing of interest. They chatted about something foreign to Finley for a good minute before the girl with long black hair turned to him. She had the most discerning eyes he’d spied in a long time. She was undoubtedly from the streets based on her piercing judgmental stare, but she almost seemed to be trying to put him in the right light in her mind over and over again.

  “So why here?” she finally said, revealing a row of tiny top teeth and a lot of pink gum. “Why did you choose to sit here?”

  “Versus where?” he said, throwing his fork into a cushion of eggs. He almost smiled at the meeting of fork and eggs, but caught himself in time.

  “Just seems you would want to be with your kind?” the girl with pale skin and cold green eyes said, indicating the table two over.

  “I thought there wasn’t a divide at this circus,” Finley said, daring to look back at the acrobats two tables over, watching him.

  “No matter how wonderful the leadership is, people will always do what they were born to do: create borders,” she said, pushing her plate of mostly not eaten food away. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my circus people, but I prefer to be with my ‘nuclear family,’” she said, fanning her hand at the people at the table. “These are my immediate family and those people”—she pointed around at the rest of the circus members—“are the extended family. The cousins. The ones you take in small doses.”

  “Right,” Finley said, staring at her plate of uneaten food. “I totally get it.”

  “No you don’t, because you are about the newest newbie I’ve ever set eyes on. But don’t worry, no one else knows that about you,” she said with a wink.

  Finley worked to corral the unsettling feeling in his chest. Before he could utter a rebuttal, the girl, named Sunshine, said, “I only know that because I’m empathic and have read all the various emotions you’re experiencing right now. You hide and fake your emotions well.”

  The space between his eyebrows creased. “You’ve read my emotions…” He wanted to be angry about it, but there was something about the girl that garnered an unearned trust from him. She had this unbreakable sadness in her demeanor. Sunshine seemed to know emotion the way Finley understood survival. And he believed that her knowledge of his emotions wasn’t something to be concerned about. There were other parts of him that posed a much bigger risk.

  Sunshine nodded at him, a knowing in her solemn eyes. “Yes, I read your emotions, but they’re safe with me. I won’t tell another soul,” she whispered for only him to hear. The other people at the table were talking to each other, ignoring them. “Really, I’d worry about Ms. Pink Streak over there,” she said, pointing straight at Zuma, who noticed it right away and glared back at her. “She’ll enter your brain and take all your secrets out if you’re not careful.”

  “I’m careful,” Finley said, pushing his full plate away too, not hungry all of a sudden. It had always been a mystery to him why his mind was a vault. But it was like that since he could remember, impenetrable. He had few worries that Zuma could trespass his thoughts. Finley knew how to do more than most should with their minds, but none of it was that useful now that he studied his list of attributes. The boy mostly knew how to take and shelter. What he needed to do now was perform and outmaneuver.

  “I’m Sunshine,” the girl said, extending a hand to him. The name was perfect for her and then also completely ironic. No one had less of a sunshine personality than this girl. Melancholy fell around her like a cloud over mountains.

  “You already know my name,” Finley said dryly.

  Sunshine ignored this and the emotions brewing inside Finley that she read. “For the circus, I do the—”

  “Pyrokinesis act,” Finley said, completing her words. “I’ve seen the show. You’re quite good and it’s ever a wonder that Ripley’s hasn’t been called to observe you.”

  Blush showed up well on her pale cheeks. “Well, well, well, you’re actually nice. What a surprise. I haven’t met an acrobat who gave away compliments. You might do us well after all.”

  “I plan to save your very livelihood,” Finley said with a wink. Everyone at Vagabond Circus knew the twenty-year venture was threatened by hard times, but most didn’t speak about it. Finley’s honesty and presence marked many things that brought both hope and fear to the troupe.

  “So where are you from?” Sunshine asked, splaying out her black fingernails on the table. There wasn’t much about the girl that wasn’t black. Her eyes and skin weren’t, but that was about all.

  “All over,” Finley said, rising from the table. He noticed just then that Zuma’s eyes were still focused on him. Jack beside her was focused on Zuma. Jasmine didn’t seem to care about anyone around her. Finley leaned back down, his face close to Sunshine’s. “Maybe I haven’t worn out my welcome and can come back here for lunch?”

  She turned, putting her lips close by Finley’s. “I think you’d be welcomed here. My friends welcome freaks and let’s be honest, you’re more freak than you are acrobat, but lucky for you, you pass for both.”

  He smiled at her before pulling himself upright and strolling by the acrobats’ table. Finley then leaned over it and tapped the tabletop three times, startling Zuma. “Show starts in ten minutes. Get your judging hats on, because I’m going to give you a lot to stick your nose up at,” he said and then left, the acrobats stared at his back as he did.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The trapeze was set up when the ac
robats entered the tent that morning.

  “What in the world?” Jack said, staring up. He and Zuma arrived at Dave’s side, who looked about as pleased as the night before. “I thought this newbie was showing us his skills,” Jack commented in confusion at the sight in front of him.

  “He is,” Dave said, turning to Jack. He had his thumbs pressed into the folds of his jacket. “Finley has asked that we start with the flying trapeze act.”

  “He’s a catcher on trapeze?” Jack said, looking around, still confused. Finley was in the middle of the ring, not stretching, but rather staring up at the wires with a satisfied smile.

  “No, son,” Dave said, slapping Jack’s shoulder. Dave wasn’t his father, but he was about the same age, and Jack respected him a great deal more. “You, Jack, are our catcher.”

  “Wait, you want him to demonstrate his skill with me?” Jack said, letting his disbelief take him a step back. “I don’t even know the guy and you want me to catch him on trapeze?”

  Dave nodded proudly. “Bingo. Now you better warm up. Finley looks to be ready.”

  “But Dave—”

  “No buts,” Dave interrupted, holding up a hand. “You said last night that you trust me. Let’s stay with that thought for now.”

  “Yeah, fine.” Jack looked to Zuma, whose eyes were beckoning him closer. He stepped nearer to her as Dave retreated. “What do you make of all this?” he asked her in a low whisper.

  Over his shoulder she watched Finley, who was making no attempt to hide where his attention was, straight on her.

  “I don’t know,” she said, refocusing on Jack. “But I trust Dave too, so let’s see where this is going. We have to be willing to adapt. I don’t like the idea of a new partner, but that guy joining the trapeze act is actually quite curious.”

  Jack leaned in close so only Zuma could hear him. His breath drifted down her neck. “I really don’t like the idea of you partnering with him. I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

  She pulled back so their eyes were locked. “Jack Fuller, are you jealous?”

  He wanted to wrap his arms around her there, make it known to everyone under the big top who Zuma would belong to if such things were allowed in Vagabond Circus, but instead he smiled at her. “Yes, and more than a little bit.”

  She smiled, looking pleased. “You have nothing to worry about.”

  “One of these days, Z,” Jack said, giving her a hungry look.

  “You’re going to what?” she said, flashing him a challenging expression. Dave was now conversing with Titus, who didn’t look happy. Still, Jack and Zuma were running out of time for this intimate chat.

  “One of these days I’m running away from the circus with you and then you’ll find out,” Jack said.

  She stole another look at Dave before zipping up another inch between them. “I’m not ready to leave yet, but I do look forward to that.”

  Jack knew they had a tiny bit of privacy, since he still heard the director and ringmaster arguing at his back. That’s why he glided his finger along Zuma’s jawline. They never allowed themselves this type of moment but Finley’s arrival was already changing things. “You should be my partner,” he said. Zuma clasped her hand over his and then brought it to her mouth briefly.

  “I wish that could be the case, but—”

  “Giving our boy a pep talk, I see,” Jasmine said, arriving at their side and winking at Zuma. She then knocked her hip into Zuma’s and the three broke into an easy laugh. “Stop flirting already so I can see what this mystery man has in store,” Jasmine said.

  Zuma nodded to Jack, who backed away from her finally. When he turned she saw Finley standing, staring at her. His eyes seemed to be right on her, like she was all he saw in the gigantic tent.

  She scowled at him and he returned her gesture with a disapproving head shake.

  “Z, what is he shaking his head about?” Jasmine asked.

  “I don’t know, but he appears slightly deranged to me,” Zuma said, not keeping her voice down.

  “I’ll show you deranged, sweetheart,” Finley sang back to her as he climbed the trapeze ladder to the platform.

  Zuma’s face flushed red. Finley was bold and he did the unexpected. It was a beautiful combination, Zuma thought. And also an indication that he was a complete train wreck.

  Jack had finished warming up by the time Dave and Titus joined the acrobats on the ground. Finley didn’t take any practice swings but instead stood on the platform, his eyes always on Zuma. She worried something was wrong with him. He appeared distracted by her and she feared he’d get himself hurt. Jack would probably be fine since his levitation skill made it unlikely that he’d have a long fall. And there was the net. However, there were other things that could happen that were worse than falling. Flying trapeze needed complete concentration and she didn’t like that this guy was about to swing straight into Jack.

  “All right, Finley,” Dave called from the ground, his gloved hand cupping his mouth. “Are you ready, my boy?”

  Finley stood tall, staring down, his eyes still on Zuma. Jack had been right; there was something different in the way Finley looked at her, she admitted.

  “Ready,” he sang down, finally pulling his eyes up to focus across the net where Jack was now sitting on the bar swinging.

  “What am I catching?” Jack called down.

  Before Dave could answer Finley yelled, “The quadruple.”

  Zuma’s mouth popped open.

  Titus shook his head in disbelief.

  Jack narrowed his eyes. “No way, man!”

  “Way,” Finley said, holding on to the bar, looking ready to disembark the platform.

  “But I hardly ever catch the girls with a triple,” Jack said, his tone sharp, disapproving.

  “They aren’t as good a flier as me,” Finley said.

  “I don’t even know your skill,” Jack yelled through the air.

  “Just catch me,” Finley said, sounding irritated. “I’ll make the rotations. Just catch me.”

  Jack still sat seated on the bar, his position telling that he wasn’t convinced.

  “Jack, I believe Finley can do this,” Dave yelled up from the ground. “Let’s at least give him a chance. If he says he can do the quadruple in time for you to catch, then let’s try it.”

  Jack eyes danced with both strange excitement and nervousness. He’d never caught a guy. Just the girls. And he’d never caught the quadruple. There were multiple things that could go wrong, especially catching a new flier. It wasn’t like Dave to take these kinds of risks and maybe that’s what finally convinced Jack. He consented with a nod and slid into position, the back of his legs hooked around the rope on either side of the bar. His head was angled down, arms helping him to gain momentum. Jack swung back and forth, gaining more speed, his upside down position almost more natural to him than being right side up.

  A “hup” sound from Finley signaled the beginning of the trick. When Finley jumped into the air there was an incredible display of power. Zuma noticed his height was considerable compared to hers or Jasmine’s. Her heart tightened watching him glide through the air. Finley swung back and then forward again, moving so fast he blurred slightly. And then at full swing he exploded into a tight somersault straight in the air. Her eyes could hardly register the rotations, but she counted them: one, two, three, and then four, and he was still a head over where Jack’s hands were reaching out, ready to catch. They were moving fast though. Jack swung the opposite direction and then there was something like a pause and Finley flickered in the air and then suddenly, like she’d blinked and missed something, Finley’s hands caught Jack’s wrists. Jack’s hands held onto Finley and the pair both completed the swing.

  The scream of excitement that ripped from Zuma’s mouth surprised her. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath or that her chest was beating wildly from adrenaline. Beside her, Jasmine, Titus, and the ringmaster clapped madly. Jasmine jumped up and down several times, the smile
on her face infecting Zuma with even more excitement.

  Jack let Finley down and he bounced on the net, not looking surprised that he’d made a nearly impossible trick look effortless. He flipped off the net and then shot a thumbs-up to Jack, who sat on his bar again, looking stunned.

  “Thanks for the catch,” Finley sang up at him.

  Jack stared down at Zuma, who still wore the look of disbelief.

  Dave clapped Titus on the shoulder. “He promised me he could do a quadruple and the boy doesn’t lie. What do you think now, old friend?”

  “Unbelievable,” Titus said in a hoarse whisper.

  Finley had his hands clasped above his head, gripping the net, pulling it down slightly from his weight. His eyes were pinned on the group discussing him on the other side of the ring, some forty feet away.

  “I’m not sure I saw that clearly,” Jasmine said. “It was almost too fast. What’s that guy’s skill anyway?”

  And then Finley disappeared from their view and materialized right in between Jasmine and Zuma. Literally he popped up from the empty space, a clever grin on his face. “What do you mean? You miss something?”

  Zuma screamed again, this time from the scare of having the stranger appear out of nowhere and drape his arm casually over her shoulder. Jasmine exploded with laughter.

  “He can teleport?” Titus said with a shocked face. He looked straight at Dave. “But I haven’t seen that since—”