Vagabond Circus Series

by Sarah Noffke

  “What?” he said, staring at her, wondering why she wasn’t throwing a volley back at him.

  Zuma actually didn’t know why either. She thought she was hardened enough when it came to Finley, but his criticism just never ceased and she couldn’t understand it. She didn’t know where it came from. And presently, she wasn’t sure why it hurt worse than usual.

  “Nothing,” she said, shaking her head. “And fine, I’ll work on the second half of the act,” she said, sounding defeated. “If it will make you happy,” she then added.

  Finley’s eyes shot up to hers. Zuma’s expression was troubled and also blank, like she didn’t know what was going on inside her.

  “Zuma,” Finley said, remorse in his tone. He now felt himself shifting too, the wall crumbling. Finley stopped himself, took a deep breath. “Let’s just practice, okay?”

  “Yeah, fine,” Zuma said.

  The two took their places and then started in unison, practicing without music. And then as they neared the end of the act Finley hesitated, like he had forgotten what came next.

  “Are you all right?” Zuma asked.

  His mind had been elsewhere, thinking about her and how she would never be happy. To his horror he realized that he’d just made a mistake because of his distraction. What if that mistake happens during a show, he cursed himself. Zuma was indeed his downfall. Not just with the act, but with everything. More and more, he worried about her, knowing the curse over her was real. Sunshine had said it herself, that the girl had everything and still wasn’t happy. But what the empath didn’t know was that Zuma couldn’t be happy. And the more he studied her, the more Finley saw an empty well, unable to be filled. And the worst part was it appeared Zuma was resigned to it. She couldn’t be happy, but she could have her highs at Vagabond Circus and that was enough for her.

  “I’m fine,” Finley said, trying to compose himself. “I just forgot a part, that’s all.”

  Zuma blinked at him in surprise.

  “Let’s keep going,” he said.

  The pair started again, but because Finley hadn’t fully collected himself on his next move he paused, holding up her hand.

  “What is it?” Zuma questioned, stepping nearer to him, staring into his eyes.

  He bit his lip and shook off the question. He couldn’t tell her the truth, that more and more he was defeated. Defeated by her and the draw to her he couldn’t erase. Defeated by his mission, which he felt no closer to than when he arrived. Defeated by himself.

  “It’s nothing,” he said, pushing down the emotions. He took her hand again, then grabbed her by the waist and spun her into the air, the next to last move before the end of their act. He caught her as he always did and then lowered her in one move. And as she was accustomed to he dipped her low as she slid her legs out along the length of his, his figure stretched across her. He then hesitated again, not pulling her up to a standing position beside him as he did before they received their applause from the crowd. However, the tent was empty besides them. There would be no applause. It was only practice. Finley, feeling something in him breaking, leaned down lower, his lips only an inch from Zuma’s. She stared back at him, a strange wanting in her eyes.

  “Zuma…” he said in a whisper.

  “Yes?” she said, leaning back, her weight in his arms.

  What he wished he could say was that he wanted to be what made her happy. That for some unexplainable reason he thought he knew how. Instead he said, “I haven’t kissed you since that one time.” He was certain that the sentence would cause a reaction in her, a snide remark. A rebellion. Instead, she slid her hands out from around his neck and rested them on his biceps. She was fully in his arms, a strange curiosity on her face.

  Zuma blinked back at him. “Do you want to?” she asked.

  He leaned in close, slid his nose across her cheek. “Yes,” he breathed and quickly admonished himself for the statement. But it was already done and Zuma, still in his arms, leaned back and brought one of her legs up and hooked it next to his hip. He grabbed it with one hand and pinned it to him. She was fully suspended in his arms now as he stood in a lunge.

  “Then go ahead and do it,” she said, her voice tattered.

  She hadn’t rejected him as he feared. She had just invited him in, given him permission to have the one thing he wanted: her affection. But then Finley reminded himself who he was. How could he allow himself to forget? He wasn’t good enough for her. He had deluded himself.

  Pulling his face even with hers, Finley stared into her eyes, felt her breath against his. And then in an impromptu decision he yanked his arms away, letting her fall on the rug. Zuma would have caught this, but her desire had clouded her combat sense. Her tailbone took the brunt of the impact. She sat in horror and disbelief, staring at Finley as he marched away to the exit.

  “What the hell?!” she fired at him, her words soaked in hurt. “Damn it, Finley! What is your problem?”

  He didn’t answer. Only left her there on the ground staring at his retreating back.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  The firelight in Dave’s office tent danced across Zuma’s face.

  “Are you sure?” Dr. Raydon said to her.

  “I’m sure,” she said.

  “And you’re firm on this?”

  “I am,” she said with confidence.

  He gave her a measured stare. “You know I trust your judgment implicitly.”

  “I’m honored that you do.”

  “Very well, then consider it done,” the ringmaster said and then reached for his top hat absentmindedly. It wasn’t on the table beside him as it normally was. It was gone, he remembered.

  “You’re not upset, are you?” she asked.

  “Zuma, you know I could never, truly be upset at you,” Dave said, his hand almost still reaching for the top hat, fingers kneading air.

  “Of course you could,” she said with a playful grin. “I’ve just yet to do something that would make you mad. A day will come, you just wait, Dave.”

  Dr. Raydon sat back in his chair and folded his hands over his rounded stomach as he did toward twilight hours every day, his time to reflect on the day’s events. “You’ve heard the story of your birth before, from me and your parents,” he stated, no question in his voice.

  The girl nodded, her pink hair looking red in the firelight of the lantern.

  “To this day, you’re the only child to have been born under the big top. You showed up four weeks early,” he said through a tender lump in his throat. He cherished every time he told her this story and tonight it felt fitting to reminisce. “And do you want to know why I think you came early when your other siblings waited dutiful until their due dates?”

  Zuma loved this question-and-answer game she often played with Dave. “Yes, please.”

  “Because you couldn’t wait to be a part of the circus. You felt its energy in the womb. You knew your parents were about to leave it and you decided to make a surprise arrival.”

  “My mother says it’s all the extra travel that threw her into early labor,” Zuma said, a ghost of a smile still on her face.

  “Of course she does,” he said, waving his white-gloved hand at her. “Your mother stopped believing in magic long ago. But you, my dear, I knew as soon as I laid eyes on you, right after Fanny had delivered you, that you were born to the circus. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it until the day I die: Zuma Zanders was born to be in Vagabond Circus. You carry its magic in your heart.”

  She stared at Dave, not knowing what to say. Dave believed in everyone more than they believed in themselves. He saw in people the part in them they longed to see. But this speech he’d been giving her for all these years still confounded Zuma. Yes, she loved the circus and felt owned by it, but she never understood the bit about “carrying its magic in her heart.”

  “So, don’t you see, my darling, Zuma,” Dave continued, “I could never be mad at you, for you’re the child born to Vagabond Circus. You are, in essence, it
’s very magic because right after you were born under the big top this circus really started to take on a life of its own and change the people in the audience. ”

  Dave wasn’t lying, Zuma could tell by his micro-expressions. But what she didn’t know was he wasn’t telling the complete truth. She was in fact the magic given to the circus, but in return her happiness was stolen. All curses operate on the scale of equality, so if something is taken then it must go somewhere. Unbeknown to the spell caster, those born at Vagabond Circus, although cursed, are also its greatest servants. Their happiness is transferred in dividends to the big top, coating it in a different kind of magic. However, Dave would never allow another soul to be sacrificed once he learned this knowledge and so he created rules.

  “Okay, well, thanks for understanding on the other matter,” Zuma said and stood.

  “Whatever it is I can do to make you happy,” he said, and silently reproached himself for the statement. But soon Zuma would be happy. He was making the ultimate sacrifice to give her that.

  The girl, however, didn’t notice this small bit of remorse and emotion building in the ringmaster. She simply leaned over and kissed Dave on the cheek. “Bye, now,” she said and turned to leave.

  “Bye, my sweet Zuma,” he said. “I love you so very much.” And he held in the tears until after she left.

  Chapter Sixty

  The knocking on Zuma’s trailer door was loud and incessant. She opened it in a rush, afraid it was an emergency. Her heart had been racing but its speed quickly slowed when she saw Finley standing on her doorstep.

  “What do you want?” she said, her tone punishing. He pushed past her at super speed and entered straight into her trailer. His hair was a mess of chaos, like his hands hadn’t left it alone all evening.

  “You told Dave that you couldn’t work with me! That you refused!” he said, his voice loud and overpowering in the compact trailer.

  Zuma’s eyes scowled but her mouth smiled. “I did,” she said triumphantly.

  “Well, because Dave will do anything and everything you want he’s split us up!” Finley shouted, his words angry, but his face full of fear.

  “Oh, is that right?” Zuma said, looking at the clock as if bored by the news.

  “Don’t play innocent with me, you told him to do it. You demanded that he do it or otherwise you wouldn’t perform,” he said, his eyes haunted by Dave’s words. The ringmaster had thrown his hands up in the air, explaining there was nothing he could do against Zuma’s wishes.

  “Maybe I did,” she said, her voice suddenly sounding vexed.

  “And even though losing our act will affect the success of the circus he’s doing it, all for his precious Zuma. And you know as well as I do that it’s the best act, but you don’t care.”

  “That’s the thing, Finley,” she said, the hurt in her voice seeping through suddenly. “I do care, but I refuse to work with someone who disrespects me and Dave recognizes that. He won’t allow me to be abused. That isn’t favoritism, that’s good management.”

  “Abused?” Finley repeated, his eyes lost as he stared out without seeing. “I abused you?” he whispered to himself, his face trapped in self-loathing as the realization dawned.

  “You did. I trusted you and you dropped me.” Zuma looked away, unable to stomach what appeared to be genuine remorse on Finley’s face. She had done what Ian had advised her to do. She’d trusted Finley. Not just trusted, but invited him to kiss her and he dropped her, thereby breaking her heart. She had no idea how something like this could change everything because it felt too personal. All she wanted now was to put as much distance between her and the guy who affected her.

  “Zuma, I’m sorry,” Finley said, his voice trembling. “You don’t understand. I had to. I was so close to…”

  “To what?” Zuma demanded.

  But Finley just shook his head. The longer Zuma stared at him, the more she felt like she was seeing him for the first time. Everything about him reeked of distress.

  Zuma shook off her concern. “And you better be glad Dave’s taken pity on you as a confused soul and hasn’t kicked your ass out of Vagabond Circus.”

  “Yeah,” he said, his eyes still lost, his voice a hush. “He’s reassigned me to work with Jasmine.”

  Zuma smiled, realizing her friend would be ecstatic about the decision. And Finley wouldn’t get away with disrespecting Jasmine. She’d break his arm. “Yes, and I’ll work with Jack.”

  Finley was visibly shaking. It was strange for Zuma to witness this in him. Real fear in Finley. “I don’t want to work with anyone else, Zuma,” he said, his voice sounding so bizarre to her. His eyes looked earnest, marked by solid stress. “You’re my partner. I only want to work with you.”

  She stepped back from him and shook her head. “You have an awful way of showing it.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Finley said and took another step in her direction. She knew he would reach for her in only a couple of seconds. Sensed it in him before he telegraphed the move. She didn’t make to move away but instead allowed him to lock her wrist with his other hand, anchoring her in front of him. “I’m sorry, Zuma. I shouldn’t have dropped you.” He looked straight at her, his eyes unlike she’d ever seen them. She knew now he wore a mask and presently it was off. “I keep trying to make you hate me. I keep pretending that I don’t care about you. Since the moment we met, I’ve been trying to resist the gravitation I have toward you. And it might ruin everything but I’m tired of pushing you away from me. That’s why I dropped you. That’s why I insult you. The way I feel about you scares me.” She watched his face for the normal hint of mischief. For anything to tell her he was playing a trick. There was nothing.

  “That’s why you’re mean to me?” And it made perfect sense to her. Zuma often welcomed the insults, needing reasons to not be swept away by her own desire for Finley. Too often she’d felt that his lingering gaze was ripping her resolve apart. It would take little from Finley to unravel her heart.

  “Yes, that’s why I’ve been cruel to you since the beginning,” he said, pushing one hand through his wild hair. “I don’t know another way. I’m afraid of how I feel about you. It’s unlike anything and it threatens my very survival. Whatever it is about you, it owns me. And I didn’t want to be owned, Zuma, not anymore.”

  And in that moment he could no longer look at her. Finley dropped her wrists and his eyes. He shouldn’t have come here, to Vagabond Circus, months ago. To Zuma’s trailer tonight. Shouldn’t have allowed this emotion, but he couldn’t fight it anymore. He was a slave to the way he felt for the girl in front of him. And it was time he stopped avoiding it. If his life was going to be a series of enslavements then he needed to give himself over to Zuma. At least with her he’d be happy and safe. He had been afraid she would distract him and she did. Everything about her distracted him, and he didn’t care anymore. He was failing at his mission and now he’d lost Zuma. Whereas before he was afraid she’d be his downfall, now he didn’t care if he was defeated, not if he lost her. Not having Zuma was his worst-case scenario. Now that he had had her attention, he couldn’t fathom another reality.

  Zuma studied him, taking in the details only she could see. Finley hadn’t lied. In every word he spoke there had been more sincerity than she’d ever witnessed from him. But she didn’t have to look at him to know what he said was true. In her own heart, Zuma knew Finley was right. She’d never been drawn to anyone the way she was to him. He stole her focus. He owned her attention just by existing. He did to Zuma what she did to the world.

  They were quiet for less than a minute when Zuma stepped in closer. Her slender hands found Finley’s chest and she stared up at him, begging for his eyes to look at her. She didn’t have to wait long. “Finley,” she said up close to his face. “You’re not alone in the way you feel.”

  He blinked back at her in astonishment. “I’m not?” And then he brandished a pirate’s smile. “Tell me more.”

  “Tell me first who you are,”
she said. “I know nothing about you. Tell me something. Anything.”

  He sucked in a breath and eyed her hands on his chest. To have her willingly touching him was beyond all hope. Finley brought one hand up and pushed a strand of blonde and pink hair away from her heart-shaped face. “Zuma, I’m the guy who’s incredibly in love with you. That’s all you ever need to know about me.” His hand found her chin and tilted it slightly. She stood up on her tiptoes as his other arm came around her waist and encouraged her forward. Their lips sank down on each other’s and the kiss that followed flowed like a large wave in the ocean, powerful and overwhelming.

  Zuma allowed Finley to wrench her into him tighter, and still she recognized they weren’t close enough. Tying her arms around his neck she then parted her lips, allowing a deeper, more passionate kiss. She couldn’t believe she was kissing Finley and yet there had never been anything that felt so exquisitely perfect as being in this moment with him. And he seemed to feel the same way as his mouth sped up with hunger against hers. She was breathless and yet didn’t mind the lightheadedness that followed. Zuma thought that her heart would beat out, that it would lose its rhythm in her chest and fail altogether and yet, the idea didn’t pull her away from Finley. It was her logic that did. Her logical side came rushing in and she realized at once how wrong everything about this was. Dave would never approve and she couldn’t afford to lose his support. Three times she tried to break away from Finley and three times he encouraged her back. Finally she placed her hands on his chest and pushed him back as she stepped away. He stood staring at her with new eyes. An expression she’d never seen on his face.