Later under the big top, we perform to a packed crowd with smiling faces and clapping hands, but I don’t feel any better somehow.
The next morning I’m poking at the fire with a stick and drinking coffee when Cale comes and sits down beside me.
“You all right there?” he asks, butting his shoulder gently against mine.
I look over to where a handful of villagers are exercising their dogs, casting occasional glances in our direction. “They’re happy to be entertained by us, but they don’t like us.”
Cale gives my arm a sympathetic squeeze. “It’s not that they don’t like us. They don’t know us, and everyone’s afraid of the unknown. Next year they’ll be a little friendlier. The year after that they’ll welcome us.”
I suppose Cale’s speaking from experience, but I don’t want to have to earn what’s given freely to other people. It’s not fair.
As I watch Cale walk away, I wonder where I got such expensive tastes for love and acceptance. Have I’ve forgotten what it’s like to disliked, even hated? I became accustomed to the friendliness of the villages who know the circus, and I forgot they were the exception, not the rule.
I heave a sigh and get to my feet, wishing I could throw off this melancholy. I want to find my way back to that place where everything was lightness and happiness. I feel like I’ve lost my innocence all over again.
Cale is incredibly sweet and patient with me over the following days and weeks, and never lets me go anywhere alone. He even finds excuses to exercise Jareth alongside Dandelion, saying the enormous, muscular Friesian is growing fat and spoiled.
“No, he’s not,” I protest on Jareth’s behalf. “Jareth is in perfect health.”
But I let Cale ride with me because I need his presence. Every now and then I catch the scent of stale whisky, and my dreams are haunted by the sound of plates smashing and deep voice yelling. A huge, hulking figure coming for me.
I forget what it must look like to the others when they catch Cale and I holding hands or with his arms around me. Elke and Anouk have been sticking close to me as well, ever since the incident with the man who grabbed me, and I can feel them growing suspicious. I think for a while I’ve managed to throw them off the scent by being extra discreet around Cale.
Then they corner me one evening in our wagon.
Elke stands in front of me with her hands on her hips, looking ferocious. “What’s going on with you and Cale?”
“What? Nothing.”
“Don’t pretend. We’ve been waiting for you to come clean with us for weeks, but you haven’t.” Elke looks hurt suddenly. “Why haven’t you?”
I shrug, playing with the tassel on a cushion, and mumble, “Me and Cale? Maybe something’s going on.”
Anouk sits down on the bed oppo
site me. “Maybe? Don’t you know?”
I know that his kisses make my body feel like fire and he whispers the sweetest things in my ear. I don’t know what the future holds. I don’t know what having a boyfriend means, if that’s even what Cale is. He’s a grown man, he’s grieving, and as he pointed out, he’s kind of my boss. It’s complicated.
When I don’t answer, Elke says, “I was watching your act tonight. Really watching it. When Cale came forward to pull the knives from the board, it was….” She struggles to put a name to what she saw.
I know. It was an unguarded moment between us, the way we look at each other when we’re alone, except there were hundreds of people watching. Maybe strangers imagined it was part of our act, but Elke saw it for what it was. I need Cale. I want him to see how much I need him, especially in those intense moments. I feel like I’m floating on air when I see that same need in his expression.
“I’ve never seen Cale look like that at anyone before.”
I play extra hard with the tassel, feeling fluttery. No one but me. That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.
Anouk prods my toe with her foot. “So it’s true? You and Cale?”
I take a deep breath. “Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I guess I was scared. Do you know how much nagging and cajoling I had to do to get him to agree to our act? Well, it was ten times worse to get him to kiss me. First, I had to convince him to throw the sixth knife.”
They both frown.
“The sixth knife?” Elke asks.
“For ages he would only throw five knives. He said the last one was to kill himself with if he ever hurt me.”
Anouk puts a hand over her heart. “That’s so romantic.”