“I’m sorry,” I say, stepping back.
Her eyes widen with surprise then narrow again with anger. Then she turns away.
“Astrid, wait,” I say, trying again. If only I can make her understand. But she stalks off, leaving me alone.
In the distance, the bell rings, signaling the audience to their seats. And beckoning us, one last time, to the air.
25
Noa
So it is to be the last show.
Tears stream down my own cheeks now as the opening music builds to a crescendo and the house lights dim. What’s wrong with me? I thought I wanted this, to leave the circus and find a path to freedom for myself and Theo and have a future with Luc. But I’ve just found this life and have only just learned to love it. I am not ready to go.
“Aerialists—trapeze!” someone calls. I step into the big top, looking for Astrid. I do not see her and I wonder if she is so angry that she will refuse to perform with me. But a moment later she appears from the opposite side of the tent and starts toward the ring, jaw clenched. I hesitate. How can we perform as a team when she is furious with me? The audience waits in the darkness, though, expecting and unaware. There is no other choice.
I climb the ladder opposite Astrid and grab the bar. “Hup!” she calls, voice seething. I fly through the air toward her. As I release, I see it, the rage—no, the hurt and betrayal—in her eyes. Her hands do not reach for mine. She wants to miss, to fail me as I had her. Falling here would not be as it had been when we were in the winter quarters, or even the previous village. The net has been poorly erected and the ground below is rock hard. If I fall here, I will die. I close my eyes as I start to plunge downward, away from her.
Then something grabs my ankles hard. Astrid, saving me against her own will. But she is a beat too late and has grabbed the thin part of my instep rather than my ankle, making it impossible for her to hang on. I am slipping through her fingers. Desperately Astrid flings me in the direction of the bar for the return, with none of her usual precision. She throws me so hard that I somersault through the air. The audience cheers, mistaking near miss for a daring new feat.
My arms find the bar. I swing back to the board and clamber up clumsily. As I straighten, I want to end the act there. This has already gone too far. But Astrid waits on the opposite platform, commanding me to finish what we have started. “Hup!”
Before I can answer, there is a boom, followed by rumbling and a louder thud. We exchange nervous glances, the anger between us forgotten for a moment. Air raids are nothing new; they have come since the start of the war, first by the Germans to weaken countries they wanted to occupy and more recently by the Allies on German territories. They come in crude bold strokes, not caring who might be in the way. Since our return to Alsace they have come almost daily. But this is the first time it has happened during the show. The tent has to be the biggest building outside town—might it make a good target from the air?
There comes another rumbling, closer this time. A few guests flee their seats for the exits as sawdust and plaster shake from the tent poles like snow. The big top offers no protection at all. Perhaps we should end the show and have everyone return home. My eyes lock with Astrid’s. Keep performing, her gaze commands. We can’t afford to start giving out the refunds that the crowds would surely demand if we canceled the rest of the show. My hands shake as I reach for the bar and another explosion threatens to send me falling. But I clasp on tighter. One more pass is all that stands between me and freedom. “Hup!” I fly through the air and Astrid catches me, then sends me back for a final time.
Then it is over and the audience offers a smattering of applause. Time to go—at last. I make my way from the big top and cross the backyard to the cabin where Theo and Elsie, who is supposed to be watching him, both sleep. I change into street clothes before picking up the bag that Astrid had packed. I lift Theo, who stirs and watches me with drowsy eyes, onto my other hip. “Time to go,” I whisper to him before starting from the cabin.
As I cross the backyard, I spot Astrid once more. She waves me over. For a fleeting second, I hope that our performing together might have softened her anger. But as I near, her eyes still burn. She snatches Theo from me. “This I shall miss,” she says, clutching him to her breast.
“Astrid...” I search for the words to make things better between us, but find none.
“Just go,” she commands as she passes Theo back to me. He gives a single cry of protest. “At least I will never have to see you again.” Her words are like a knife, and as she turns and walks away I know there will be no more goodbyes.
I start after her. I can’t bear to go with Astrid furious at me. But there is no choice. I told Luc I would meet him at nine o’clock, just fifteen minutes from now. I have to find him.
From the tent comes the boom of the music. Emmet’s voice warbles over the loudspeaker, so far short of what his father’s had been. I look back with gratitude. The circus has been my haven—my safety and my home, in a way I had never expected. Even now, when it is broken and near the end, the circus is the truest family I know. Once I leave, what hope is there of ever feeling this way again?
Then I square my shoulders as I start away with Theo. What will he remember of all this? I force myself not to linger as I pass the train cars. I run low so as not to be seen, taking care not to jostle Theo too hard. Faster, I hear Astrid urge in my mind as I pick up speed, heading east in the direction Luc had said. I wish for the shelter of trees, but the earth here is barren and exposed. Someone might see us at any moment, ask why I am fleeing. I will myself to slow, walk normally as I struggle to catch my breath.
As I start toward the quarry and the laughter and applause of the crowd fade behind me, my doubts about leaving bubble once more. How can we possibly survive, the two of us with a child and nothing more? I push my misgivings aside. I want to go with Luc. I see the image of a life together that he promised. Despite my fears, there would be two of us, united in our struggle for our survival and Theo’s. Without him, I would be alone—again.
We are well away from the circus now and the earth grows rocky, slopes sharply downward. I clutch Theo tightly, navigating the steep slope. The path I’ve followed ends at what appears to be a pit of roughly cut stone. Luc said he would be there at intermission, waiting for me.
But the quarry is empty.