“She didn’t perform at the show,” Luc notes, but I don’t reply. I can’t tell him the rest of the story, why Astrid is angry with me, without revealing to him the fact that she is a Jew. “Perhaps she’s jealous that you were in the show and she wasn’t,” Luc ventures.
I laugh aloud. “Astrid, jealous of me? That isn’t possible.” Astrid is talented, famous, powerful. But then I see myself through her eyes, a younger woman with the child fate had denied her, performing when she cannot. Maybe the idea is not so ridiculous after all. “It isn’t like that,” I add. “Astrid is a famous aerialist. She’s just very intense. Peter says she’s a danger to herself,” I add.
“Peter, he’s the clown?” Luc asks.
I nod. “He and Astrid are together.”
“He sure didn’t like me,” Luc says with a half smile.
“He’s very protective of Astrid,” I explain. “She thinks it’s just for company but she can’t see the depth of his feelings for her.”
He watches me intensely. “I can imagine.”
I look away, feeling myself blush. “The show...you never told me what you thought.” I brace myself for the criticism that would surely crush me.
“You looked beautiful,” he offers and I blush. “You were amazing.” He pauses for a moment, then adds, “It’s just that I was sad for you.”
“Sad?” My happiness fades.
“Doesn’t it bother you?” he asks. “All of those people, watching, I mean?” His tone is one of concern. But there is pity, too. “You don’t have to do it, you know,” he adds.
I can’t explain that in the spotlight I am someone else. Still, how dare he judge us? “I’ve found something I’m good at,” I say defensively, crossing my arms. “A way to take care of myself and Theo. Not that you would understand.”
Suddenly being alone with him and all of the lies between us are too much. “I have to go,” I say abruptly. I stand so quickly I lose my balance, nearly tumbling from the loft.
“Wait.” Luc grabs my leg to steady me, his arm warm through the fabric of my dress. I look down. Though it is not nearly as high as the trapeze, there is no net and I am paralyzed with fright. What am I doing here?
Luc draws me down to the hay once more, closer now. He places a hand against my cheek. “Noa,” he says gently. Our faces are inches apart, his breath warm on my upper lip. Waves of confusion swirl around me. He likes me; I know that now. I cannot pull away.
Luc kisses me. For a second, I stiffen. I should say no for a dozen reasons: it is impertinent of him, presumptuous and too soon. Astrid would say I should not be here with him at all. But his lips are tender and sweet with wine. His warm fingers cup my cheek, seeming to lift me from the ground. Our breath mingles. For a moment I am just a carefree, young girl again. I move closer, pushing the past firmly aside as I fall into him.
When Luc pulls back, he is breathless and I wonder if it is his first real kiss. He reaches for me again, eager for more. But I put my hand on his chest, stopping him.
“Why me?” I ask bluntly.
“You’re different, Noa. I’ve lived in this village my whole life with the same people. The same girls. You make me see the world in a new way.”
“We won’t be here for that long,” I protest. “And then we’ll move on. To the next town.” No matter how much we like one another, I am leaving and there is nothing to be done. We have only now.
“I don’t want to go,” I blurt, embarrassed to feel my eyes burn. I’ve lost so much before: my parents, a child. Luc, a boy I hardly know, should not matter at all.
“You don’t have to,” he says, drawing me close. “We could run away together.”
I tilt my head upward; surely I’ve heard him wrong. “That’s madness. We’ve only just met.”
He nods firmly. “You want to leave. So do I. We could help each other.”
“Where would we go?”
“To the south of France,” he replies. “Nice, maybe or Marseilles.”
I shake my head, remembering Astrid’s tale of her family and their failure to outrun the Reich. “Not good enough. We would have to go farther south, across the Pyrenees through Spain.” We. I stop, hearing the word that has slipped from my mouth without realizing it. “Of course it’s impossible.” A delightful fairy tale, like one I would spin for Theo to soothe him to sleep. Children playing make-believe. I had always planned to take Theo and go. But now the idea of leaving is hard to imagine. “I have to go with the circus to the next town. I owe them that much.”
“I’ll find you,” he promises gamely, as if the miles and borders are irrelevant.
“You don’t even know where we are going,” I protest.
In the distance, the cathedral bells toll. I listen, alarmed. Nine chimes. How had it gotten so late?
“I have to go,” I say, pulling away reluctantly.
He follows me down the ladder and from the barn. Neither of us speaks as we make our way back through the woods. It is after curfew and in the distance the town is shuttered and still. At the edge of the circus grounds behind the train, I stop. I do not want anyone to see me with Luc so late at night. “I should go alone from here.”
“When will I see you again?” he presses.
“I don’t know,” I say and his face falls. “I want to,” I add hurriedly. “It’s just so hard to get away.”
“We don’t have that much time. Can you meet me tomorrow night, after the show?”
“Maybe,” I say, unsure how I will manage it. “I’ll try. But if I can’t...” If only there were a way to send word. I have no way to reach him. I scan the fairgrounds, thinking.
My eyes stop at the back of the train. Each carriage has a box underneath, I recall. The belly box. On some of the cars the workers use it for keeping tools handy. I pull out the one beneath the sleeper car. It is empty.
“Here,” I say. “If I can’t get away I will leave you a message.” A secret mailbox that no one else knows.
“Tomorrow, then.” He kisses me boldly, then steals away, glancing around carefully to make sure no one is watching.
I race back to the campsite, breathless. There is an excitement with Luc that I’ve never felt before. It had not been like this with the soldier. I see now how the German had taken advantage of me, and taken a piece of my youth I will never recover. With Luc, though, the past feels like a bad dream that never happened. Is that even possible?
I had not understood how Astrid could ever love again after her husband had cast her out. Now it seems that I might have a second chance, too. Suddenly everything that has happened to me seems to make sense. I used to imagine that the German had never come. But if that had been the case I would never have known Theo or come here and met Luc.
How I wish that I could talk to Astrid about it. In her rare kinder moments, she is almost like a big sister and I just know she could help me make sense of it all. She will never see past Luc’s father, though, to who he really is.