Circus Solace (10 page)

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Authors: Chris Castle

BOOK: Circus Solace
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“I’m freelancing right now…” he said, both grateful for his sister’s words but frowning with a little reality in his eyes. “If I could land a project that stands out, maybe I could get my foot in the door someplace.”

“Oh, I think we could use someone like you, too, Bobby,” Pa said and extended his hand out to shake.

By the time they arrived back at the house, it was starting to get dark. Matt wondered if the people
they’d met would one day walk up the path or if today had been the first and the last time they would ever come into contact with one another. It would be fine if they came, Matt decided, but okay if they didn’t, too. It was that feeling, of meeting people and being back in the world, that was the most important thing, he realised. As Pa made dinner and spoke about the brother and sister, Matt watched his eyes, alight with ideas and possibilities and realised they were living, that they were
alive

             
                            *

“They all said yes!” Lucas said, almost yelling. His hands were whipping through the air in overdrive and several crumbs from his cake skittered across the table.

“All of them?” Pa said his face a combination of surprise and doubt.

“Weren’t they a little…surprised?” Matt added, thinking about the people they had met the day before. 

“They took a while but after we sold it to them, they all said yes, to a man,” Lucas went on, barely pausing for breath.

“It’s in them, I think,” Marcus said, cutting across Lucas and calming him down. “These people, it’s either in their blood or in their memories
but most of all, I found it in their eyes. As soon as we started talking, something changed; their eyes softened with the memories and then hardened with determination. It was really quite something to see.”

“So, we have you
r three,” Lucas said. Pa brought his arm up to say nothing was a done deal, but Lucas grabbed it half-way.

“Trust me, we got them. Me and Marcus-”

“Marcus and I,” the other man interrupted. “If you want to be heard, make sure you have the right words, in the right order. Diction counts.” Lucas glanced over, grinned and looked over to Matt and Pa.

“The
Gent. It was one of his rules. So, Marcus and I have on our roster,” he went on, extravagantly waving his hands as he did. “Percy Earnings, The Human-Animal-Cannon-ball.”

“He can imitate any creature in the animal kingdom,” Marcus explained.  “His specialty is ‘the eagle swoop.’” He can fit in anything from a waterfall to a paddling pool.”

“Next up,” Lucas jumped back in, is ‘Lock-Box John.’”

“Escape artist; was in prison
,” Marcus said, reading from his sheet.


Helter-Skelter Sally, high wire extraordinaire,” Lucas said, pointing back to a photo on a wall.

“She was working as a window cleaner for skyscrapers,” Marcus chipped in, matter-of-factly.

“The Trio Tumblers,” Lucas went on, rolling and dipping his hands. He kept talking; not letting Marcus cut in. “Stunt-man Steve, Tracker Willis, Cage of Aquarius, Numbers Hamm, Paper Florence, Jingles Baldwin, Slinky Stevens Brown, Walkin’ Walken and Singer Belle.”

“Who are,” Marcus muttered, frowning over to Lucas, “A stunt-man, a man who finds anything, a woman who can make fish sing, a magic act, an origami expert, a piano player, a human slinky, an impressionist and…well, a singer called
Belle, respectively.” Matt felt his jaw hanging open and could almost see the shadow of Pa’s face doing the same.

“Wait,”
Matt said, finally. “A…human slinky?”

“You have to see it to believe it,” Lucas said, grinning.

“It turns out none of them really stopped,” Marcus said, putting down his papers. “Every one of them either kept up their talents as a hobby or did work here and there.”

“They
never gave up,” Matt said and saw both the men smiling.

“That’s right, Matt. They never gave up, no matter what.” Lucas looked from
Matt to Pa. “Now, none of them really need to rehearse but they will stop by, just to get a lay of the land and maybe a feel for the old place.”  

“I would say a week before to set up the equipment, here and there, no more, no less,” Marcus added.

“Don’t we need…I don’t know, a stage, a platform?” Matt asked. Marcus shook his head.

“It was never like that. You see, it was never a performance the way some shows were. Sure there were moments to see
; the stunts or the acrobatics, for example but most of it was about mingling around, meeting each other.” Marcus smiled at the memory of it.

“Most of the acts were just standing and talking and from time to time
they would just offer up a display. It was all informal and hap-hazard. No rhyme or reason, nothing like that.”

“It was a show you would be amongst, walk through and shake everyone’s hands,” Lucas said. “All on ground level. If you wanted seating, you’d sit down on the grass and watch. No tickets, no numbers, just people. No more, no less.”

For a moment, no-one spoke, thinking about it. In the end, Matt spoke, seeing what he felt etched on Pa’s tight expression.

“What about the magic?” He looked from Lucas to Marcus. “In the photos, from
what you tell us, there’s this…magic, like sorcery. Where did you get that?” Marcus walked over to him and put his hand on Matt’s shoulder.

“You don’t ever bring that with you,” he said quietly. Matt saw him glance up to
Pa, so he was talking to both of them. “That’s what comes from people being together and sharing all of this.”

“You’ll know it on the day, when it happens,” Lucas added, putting his own hand on
Pa’s shoulder. “It’ll break, like summer rain and then you won’t be able to miss it, trust me.”

“So this…”
Pa said, looking from Lucas, to Marcus and finally down to Matt. “This is really happening.”

“Yes, it is,” Marcus said. Matt nodded in agreement. Last of all was Lucas, who
se grin grew even broader.

“Get ready,” he said and brought them all together.

                                          *

The next few days and weeks were a blur and a rush
for Matt. On Marcus’ instructions, they trimmed back the grasses and cut back overhanging branches. At first it had felt like they had left it too late. Yet, when they began, the grass cut easily and the branches fell without any give. It was almost as if they had been waiting, Matt thought. Within days, the lovely, unruly mess of the back gardens was a rough square and something like a space where people could spend an afternoon. The bigger trees tilted just enough to offer shade from the sun or respite from the rain and the smaller ones seemed just the right size for children to play by or adults to rest upon. 

Over that time, the people came to stop by. First up was Stunt-man Steve, who wore a silver flying jacket and carried a scar that went from his ear to his jaw. He looked quite intimidating to Matt until he laughed and then his whole face broke with a smile and even the scar looked as if it might have come from having too much of a good time. He told stories all afternoon, most involving film stars-some Matt knew, others
Pa had told him about-and when he left, Steve stopped once at the house and shook his head, as if seeing it for the first time. He drove away in a vintage car that ran so smoothly, the engine didn’t even send the birds out of the trees.

After that first visit, someone stopped by every other day. Most of them were happy, some of them were sad but all of them stopped in the shadow of the old house and looked at it as if seeing it for the first time, all over again. Matt found a dozen paper boats left in the kitchen by
Florence and a t-shirt he had been looking for since the day they arrived hung on the back gate after Tracker Willis’ visit. Each of them told stories, some for hours, and others for just a few minutes, but all of them spoke as if all of it had happened only days, or hours before. Matt also noticed that while they were older people, none of them seemed old. If they carried illness, they hid it. Once, Matt wondered if they were the same outside in real life or if the house was an antidote that offered brief respite. It seemed ridiculous but a part of him believed it; as if the house, just for a short while, made them young again, healthy again, whole again.

The four people they had come into contact with arrived over time. The twins arrived early-
Sara was full of boundless energy and cart-wheeled around the grass as if she were warming up for the big day. Bobby kept her in check and accepted Matt’s offer of looking around the house and the photographs they had put on the wall. He stopped at each one and spent what seemed like a long time to Matt just studying them. Once or twice, he reached out and almost put a fingertip to the picture and then stopped himself. 

“It’s like
they’re still here,” he whispered and then looked over to Matt, embarrassed. “I mean, when I see the photos.” Matt nodded and knew exactly what he meant. It was the same for Matt, seeing small pieces of his ma dotted around the house, almost everywhere he looked.

“I understand,” Matt said and the honesty in his voice made Bo
bby stopped blushing.

“Yes, I think you do,” he said and they both smiled.

Ms. Solstice blew through like a jittery whirlwind, pointing out the exact spot where she wanted her stand and then insisting on a cup of tea, to be drunk, in a circle, in the garden. After three exactly three sips, she tossed the rest of the cup into the grass and peered into her cup, almost wearing the mug like an eye-patch. She hummed, looked at Pa and then handed him her cup.

“I’ll be here before
midday,” she said and walked off.

“Ahem,” Mr. Stopper stepped out to where Matt and
Pa were working later in that same afternoon and coughed loudly to get their attention.

“I’m looking to meet my partner, this other fella, who you’re looking to team me up with,” he said. His voice was gruff but Matt was surprised that under that, the tough old guy sounded nervous.

“Sure, Mr. Stopper. We could walk you down there now, if you’d like,” Pa said.

The three of them walked down to the clearing and then began the mazy walk through the caves to where Max lived. Matt had not seen them since that first day, though he had often looked
for him from his window. He cleared his throat. 

“Mr. Everheart? Max?” he called out. The three of them listened to his voice echo down the tunnels and into the dark. 


Welcome
,” he answered, though it was hard to decide if he was close-by or far away. The sound of shuffling footsteps grew and grew until Max finally appeared at the mouth of the cave. He appeared bigger but leaner; Matt thought he looked less ravaged, as if something in him had been restored.

“Mr. Everheart,” Matt began. “This is Mr. Stopper. I’m sure Lucas mentioned the idea of working as a pair of strongmen?”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Mr. Stopper whispered under his breath and for a moment, Matt worried that the man would be frightened, or worse, offended by whom he was meeting.

“Mr. Stopper, this is Mr. Everheart,”
Pa said.

“Son, are you a zombie?”
Mr. Stopper said, though there was no malice in his voice. It reminded Matt of the time Lucas asked him if he was a Capricorn.


Yes
,” Max drawled and it seemed as if everyone was holding their breath. “
And you are?”

“Well,” the old man said and Matt looked at
Pa, who was looking anxiously from one to the other. “I guess you could call me surprised, but mostly you can call me Tom. Tommy.” He stepped forward and stuck out a hand, which Max took. The two shook and in the next moment everyone let out a deep breath that seemed to whistle all the way down to the end of the cave.

The four of them walked back to the gardens and Max set up in the long shade of the trees. Mr. Stopper stood in the sunlight and the two began to practise their routine together. For a while, Matt and
Pa just watched as the two of them pulled trees marked with a chalk ‘x’ by Lucas, clean out of the ground down to their roots. Within an hour, the two of them had cleared every part of the garden. Next up, they casually chucked steel tent poles and acrobatic equipment from one to the other and set up the pitch for Sara’s act and Helter-Skelter-Sally’s high wire performance. By the time they stopped for drinks, Mr. Stopper was talking away and Max nodded, sometimes speaking and always smiling. Even as they sipped their drinks, neither of them appeared to have broken sweat. For a moment, Mr. Stopper talked to Pa about foundations and Matt spoke to Max.

“Is everything okay with Mr. Stopper?” Matt asked, pouring more lemonade for Max and handing it over.


He likes books
,” he smiled and sipped his drink for a moment. “
He’s always telling stories… like a book…the way he talks
.” Mr. Stopper overheard and ma’s wink appeared as he raised his glass.

“You live a life, you earn the right to tell stories,”
Mr. Stopper said coming over to them. He brushed his glass against all the others.

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