Elementary Virtue: The Prophecy (4 page)

He looked with lust at the cloud of blue-black hair, which spread under the blankets on the wooden floor. Cesare hated his father with all his heart. He was a real callous bastard, but he would never have dared to stand up against him. He bent down to the blond girl who was no longer accessible. The Indian boy slipped on his knees to Cesare and took a canteen. He rested her head on his knees moistening the lips with water until she began to drink slowly. Her eyes remained closed, but she drank greedily. Ourday stayed with her, and when she finished, he drank some of the delicious water himself. Cesare gave the water bottles to the other two girls. They gratefully accepted the canteens and the golden eyes of the girl were no longer defiant but had taken a friendly even interested expression. The other girl was probably her sister, which explained her shielding attitude. He reached out a hand after he made sure that his father, whom he saw near a tree answering nature's call, couldn’t keep his wary eye on him. He put his other hand on his chest; "I am Cesare", then he pointed at her; "What's your name?" She looked uneasy at him, but he looked friendly, and his bright green eyes resembled two gems. She had never seen such eyes before. There was something magical about these eyes. She was mesmerized and could not have looked away even if her life depended on it.

His lips were half-opened as he continued smiling at her. She hung spellbound at his lips and looked again in these fascinating eyes, her voice barely a whisper; "Chiana." He still held her hand whispering, "Chiana what a beautiful name ..."

The big top of the circus was in blue and yellow above it, printed in golden letters "Circo Motta Benedetto". Gregory looked at the letters wondering where he had heard that name before when someone tapped on his shoulder. He heard a voice, and someone spoke to him in English with a strong Mediterranean accent. "You must be Bernard's grandson. It looks as though Nonna Tiziana simply abandoned you. So typical of her." Gregory turned around and froze because Gabe was standing in front of him. He blinked nervously, he had to get his shit together, and after all, it couldn’t be him, simply impossible. Apparently, the shock was written all over his face, because the boy, who looked at first glance like Gabe had a guilty look on his face and his features were anything but threatening. "Did I say something wrong?" He wiped the hair from his face. The long hair was another sign that he couldn’t be Gabe. Gabe wore his hair short, there had not passed enough time to change that fact. Gregory shook his head. "No, I'm probably just a little jumpy after the long journey." The boy smiled, "I know exactly what you mean. After all, it must not have been that relaxing to meet Nonna Tiziana, who has probably been waiting at the airport like an avenging angel for you.

Anyway, I am Antony, one of her many grandchildren. Actually, my name is Antonio, but I guess Antony is somehow cooler. "Gregory nodded understandingly," then you are probably one of the little angels who has the first appearance at the Circus today? "Antony taken aback suddenly looked suspicious. His moss-green eyes that reminded him of Gabe narrowed to thin slits. "Are you making fun of me?" "No of course not!" He had to be damn careful not to get in trouble with this Gabe doppelganger from the start. "Your grandmother said something about two angels having their first Show today. She didn’t want to miss it under any circumstances." Antony's face relaxed. "What can I say, my Nonna sometimes is a bit crazy and slightly embarrassing. I don’t want to become a fool for the local youth. I, finally have a reputation to lose. Unbelievable that she called Valentina and me her little angels. It makes me wanna puke." His outrage made Gregory laugh. The tension of these last days, the long journey - the exertions. Constantly keeping his act together, and the stern lady with the indecent book, all of it collapsed in one incredible burst of laughter. He couldn't stop laughing. He heard a female voice; "Who is this Cretino? Why is he laughing like an idiot?" Gregory looked up, and the laughter got stuck in his throat. "Mila? What is going on here?

What kind of damn freak show is this? "He stepped back, tripping over a rope, lying on the ground. He remained sitting dizzily on the ground, staring at the girl who stood in front of him. "Who the hell is Mila? "She looked puzzled to Antony. "Don’t worry Valentina. Our new friend here seems to be a bit tense. When he first saw me, he looked at me as if the devil in person had appeared in front of him. "He smirked visibly amused. "Probably Nonna Tiziana has brainwashed him on the way here. Did you know that she calls us her little angels?”
“Incredible!” The girl inclined her head in disapproval, "this woman is simply impossible completamente Pazza."

Gregory felt like some background actor in a soap opera. The two of them were talking about their seemingly crazy grandmother as if he were not even there. He cleared his throat "Excuse me. I'm still sitting here on the ground in front of you! Would someone please enlighten me what's going on here’ Have I eventually ended up in the land of Doppelgangers? Or, wait, maybe I'm just dreaming, and none of this is real. "He pinched his arm. "Damn that hurts. Then I guess no dream after all." The Mila doppelganger frowned, clearly irritated and Gregory realized that she didn’t look exactly like Mila on close inspection. Her eyes were different, and she was probably a bit smaller. Otherwise, the resemblance was confusing. "He seems rattled, who is he anyway, Antony?"

"That my dear is Gregory, the grandson of Nonno's friend from Canada. Don’t you remember? The boy had a nervous breakdown. "Gregory tapped against his forehead; "I didn’t have a nervous breakdown, who told you such nonsense. I am here to get my strength back after a serious illness." The two of them looked at each other knowingly; "Well that’s what I'm saying," Antony said calmly, and the girl looked at him understanding. "Oh, yes. Now I remember. But, he doesn’t look that crazy after all."

"Damn, I'm not crazy!" What did they want from him? Antony reached out to help him back on his feet. "We have to get going. Otherwise, we will get in trouble with the show. Valentina and I have to change and get ready. Are you going to see the show, Gregory? " He shrugged; "I guess, what are the two of you doing in the show?" "We are swinging on a trapeze and Valentina wraps herself in and out," Antony laughed. "Come on I'll take you to a loge. You will certainly get a good seat today. In the afternoons, we are rarely sold out and before our tour starts, everything has to work out perfectly. We don’t want to disappoint our crazy Nonna. " He winked at Valentina, and she rolled her eyes back at him. Antony led Gregory to one of the log seats. He was curious about the show. He didn’t particularly like to go to the Circus. He couldn’t even remember when he had been in a Circus the last time. Inside of the tent, it was getting dark. Gregory was mesmerized, as it had nothing in common with the circus he had visited in his childhood. He felt, as if he had suddenly plunged into a parallel universe. A fantasy world he seemed to recognize from the past or another life in a frightening way. Small lights in different colors were lighting up the inside of the big top. The shape of a lava-spewing volcano appeared, no doubt created with laser technology that looked damn impressive. The sound of dramatic music accentuated with drums was in the air.

Suddenly figures appeared out of nowhere, giving Gregory a surrounded feeling, which of course was complete nonsense. The figures moved past him and split up positioning themselves around the big top. All of them wore clothes made of leather. The male performers all stripped to their waist, with painted Indian motifs on their torso. The female performers also wore leather-fringed clothes. On their upper arms, Indian motives had been painted with fluorescent colors glowing in the dark. Some of them wore headbands or headdresses of feathers. Through the crowd they glided like smooth wildcats. Gregory held his breath, as they all magically disappeared at once. The lights went out, surrounded by darkness, then again, the laser volcano appeared, and this time, the lava was purple and yellow. Some fantasy creatures appeared with animal masks matching the colors of the volcano. Dwarves followed them with lanterns moving within the big top forming around the circus ring. The lights went out again, and the sound of an Italian opera aria filled the air. When the light came on again, all the Indian figures had gathered in the center of the circus ring surrounded by the mythical creatures. Four of the artists were standing in four different directions in front of the loges, which represented the four elements without a doubt. The young man standing in front of Gregory was representing fire obviously. Around him, red, yellow flames flickered, looking like real magic.

The lights went out, and the audience burst into thunderous applause, accompanied by bravos. Gregory felt completely exhausted. It had become clear to him that he had somehow landed in the original world of the Onenda-Akando clan. Why else would they involve their Indian roots so obviously in the show? The following performances were simply fantastic. The fear that many animal acts would follow had proved wrong. Gregory didn’t approve of animal dressage. But, this show had nothing in common with the kind of traditional Circus everyone knew. More like a series of fantastic acrobatics, art, and vertiginous sensations. Perfectly tuned and arranged with songs sung in a fantasy language he had never heard before. He felt as if he had traveled to a different time and space and he yearned for more of the performances and the spectacular show. It was a perfect illusion, a magic that kept him glued in awe to the chair. The audience seemed to feel the same way, considering the applause and the bravos after each show act. During the break, he had to get used to the harsh light of reality, which was not that easy. He got himself something to drink, as the Signora with the turban was suddenly standing beside him.

"E Allora my boy how do you like our show?" Her black eyes fixed on him. Gregory turned around, looking straight into her black-rimmed, eyes-wrinkled face with her dramatically painted red lips and was glad he didn’t have to lie with a forced hymn of praise. "I am completely thrilled. It feels like a fantasy land, just fantastic." She looked pleased patting him on the shoulder. "Just wait until you see my two little angels and our illusionist Keanu. He has shamanic roots you ain’t seen nothing yet. No one exceeds his performance. How do they say in your language? Oh yes, it is jaw-dropping, believe me."

"Gregory winced when he heard the words shamanic roots. Keeping a wry smile on his face, he went back to his seat. A sense of anticipation tingled within. Who the hell might that illusionist be? He hoped that he was not another doppelganger of any of the Vultures. Or else he would leave the tent screaming, that much was clear. To his relief, a clown appeared after the break instead of a feared doppelganger. Luck had it that apparently he chose him of all people for his tricks and jokes. Clowns gave Gregory the creeps since his early childhood. It probably had something to do with the fact that he once sneaked into the living room at a tender age, and had seen a part of the movie adaptation of Stephen King’s book, IT. Since then, he had avoided clowns whenever he saw one. He knew that it was completely ridiculous, and this one in front of him had neither a red nose nor sharp teeth. Still, he felt uncomfortable. The white-faced clown with the battered black hat, full dressed in black, did all sorts of magic tricks and when all of a sudden Gregory’s phone disappeared and reappeared looking slightly different, he felt more than just uneasy.

Nevertheless, he could hardly make a big fuss in front of all the people. He just stared grimly at the clown muttering che-cazzo" which wasn’t exactly decent Italian language. When he suddenly realized that, officially he was not to speak Italian at all. The clown looked at him lurking as if he expected him to do something particular.

When the showpiece was finally over, and he moved on, Gregory sank exhausted back in his seat. While he was still mulling over how he could get back his phone because he needed that damn phone to call Leyla as soon as he would get a new SIM card. The lights went out again, and the Circus ring flooded with blue light, and four warriors stood in four different directions of the ring clearly symbolizing the elements. Each of the warriors held a vertical tissue in his hands matching the color of his element. The silk tissues were attached in the middle of the ring, where a stage had been erected in the meantime. With headlights directed to the taut silk tissues gleaming blue, red, green, and golden.

Two figures appeared on stage in smooth movements. Antony and Valentina stepped on stage. They probably had their big show act now. Both wore daring costumes. Skin tight cat suits, full body suits with hoods that shone like flames in the darkness and the blue light. They both took off the hoods and started to wind themselves synchronously in two of the silk tissues. An emotionally charged Italian song filled the air. The crazy sado-maso loving Signora had not been exaggerating. The two angels rapidly soared through the air in a sea of colors created by the integrated silk tissues swirling like flames. They were even devilishly good and the song’s lyrics about a "Guerriero" which meant - Warrior - matched their performance perfectly. They presented some daredevil performance and at the end, they went up in flames and simply disappeared into the darkness under the thunderous applause of the crowd. Gregory’s jaw dropped, this time, no kidding.

He barely recovered from the fantastic performance, when a warrior rose in front of him. His face and chest painted to go off to war. Gregory stared at him spellbound. He looked so real that he expected him to point an arrow at him at any moment. Like a scene from a fantasy movie, like a statue he stood there. Then he walked to a platform in the middle of the ring with a glowing stick. His muscular torso naked, he was wearing a tattoo with a falcon across his chest. Heavily his chest rose and fell as if he were out of breath. The red-gold stone amulet around his neck shone in the spotlight. He wore beige Pants white fringes. His blue-black hair shone like the plumage of a raven braided into a long braid. On his forehead, he wore a leather headband. His features were bold and tough. He stood motionless on the platform, his palms pressed against each other. His eyes closed, colored lights swirled around him.

An ecstatic drumbeat sounded. He opened his eyes and his eyes fell straight on Gregory. The iris of his eyes appeared red, impossible. It must have been a trick of the light. Gregory shuddered, and wished he could get up and run away, but he couldn't do that. He was the savior and not some coward. He squared his shoulders forcing himself to stare back into the red eyes of the shamanic magician, red no doubt about it.

Then, it hit him like a Deja vu, like some experience from another time in space, maybe in another life. If something like that even existed. No, he didn't believe in all that esoteric crap. He was a realistic person with both feet on the ground he used to think so. But, if he were honest the whole stuff about the elements, being the savior all belonged to the same crap. He hadn’t believed in it before and exactly this attitude had gotten him into a real mess. Maybe it was time to open up to very eerie supernatural stuff and broaden his horizon. After all this show was nothing but a perfect performance, or wasn’t it?