Girl on a Wire (14 page)

eighteen

Another week of late Chianti nights for Dad followed, mixed with a busy itinerary for the show. We did a few days in Indianapolis, followed by a few more in St. Louis, and all Remy and I’d been able to do in the meantime was exchange looks. I even chanced dropping by the schoolroom to see him, but only got out a furtive hello before almost getting busted by Novio.

Today, the Cirque had paraded through Kansas City, Missouri. I had done an outdoor wire walk in some tourist-revitalization-type district. It was only about five stories above the sidewalk, so I’d used a parasol and chanced a single pirouette in the middle. Wild applause had drifted up to me, but I’d felt wobbly. I’d think twice before trying it again outside. The problem was just from wind or unsteadiness from too much momentum, though. Of that I was
nearly
certain.

After the evening performance, my parents went to bed early. Thankfully. I snuck out wearing my own practice clothes, a black leotard under a petal-pink tunic covered in tiny black polka dots. I was hoping to get in a little time on the wire. I’d never gone up at night, when the tent was deserted, the stands in shadow. And . . . I wanted to show off for Remy. I was at my best when I was performing, never unsure and awkward like I was sometimes with him off the wire—and what we’d learned from Kat definitely landed us in the territory of Totally Awkward.

When I arrived, Remy wasn’t practicing for once. He was sitting outside the edge of the center ring, legs sprawled in front of him. His back was to me. Probably because turning your back on the ring was the same as turning your back on luck. No one did it. Another superstition.

I toed the ground beside him with the point of my red slippers. “Running late tonight?”

“I was waiting for you, hoping you’d show up,” he said, and I watched him take in my clothes. “
You
want to learn some trapeze?”

My laugh rang out way too loud, loud enough that I quieted. I didn’t want to tempt fate
that
much, and risk our discovery in here.

“No way.” No way I’d try something like that for the first time with him watching. “I thought I might get in a couple of turns on the wire tonight.”

“I don’t know why the idea of trapeze is so funny.”

I patted his shoulder as he rose to his feet. “Of course you don’t. You like nets.”

“It’s almost like you don’t want me to turn some lights on for you.”

I poked him with the end of my parasol. “
Pleeeaase?
” I added a dose of eyelash fluttering.

“Not because of that,” and he fluttered his own entirely too long lashes, “but because I owe you.”

I could have asked what he meant, but I didn’t need to. He’d come the closest ever to making the quad during that night’s show. The adjustments to his form going into the somersaults—some of which I’d suggested during these nighttime rendezvous—were finally paying off. At least, I thought that was what he meant.

Remy jogged into the stands and disappeared into the control booth where the lighting and mechanical team manned the switches and boards. As far as I was concerned, the ladder rising and falling was akin to magic—the delightful kind you could see, not the kind that supposedly brought bad luck and rumors. But someone was still responsible for it.

Lights splayed over my wire as everything except it and the trapeze faded to dark. My ladder lowered. When Remy didn’t return right away, I went over and put my hands on the rung to start climbing. It immediately started to rise.

The ladder’s progress paused. I used the second to get a better grip, shaking my head since he could obviously see me. When I was settled, the ladder started again.

He wasn’t making me climb. It was Cary Grant-esque.

I stepped off onto the platform, and waited. Remy jogged back out of the corner, the grace of his movement unfair to regular people. I couldn’t believe I’d thought he didn’t move effortlessly enough to be a flyer when we met at the masquerade.

He jumped up into the net beneath the trapeze, lay back, and waved his hand.

“Go on,” he called. “I’m ready.”

Did he think I wanted him to critique me? The idea made me squirm.
Too late now.
I did a couple of stretches to warm up, and set a foot on the wire. I went cautiously at first, in case he startled me by calling something up to me, but I should have known better. He was no amateur.

I went through the act, doing the version that had a little extra. The new arabesque, some elaborate motions with my free hand. I added a curtsy at the end. There was no applause when I finished and crossed back onto the platform. Remy was standing, gazing up. He called a question: “You want to go again?”

Not if I wasn’t getting applause. “Nah.”

“Excellent,” he said, “because you don’t need the practice like I do.”

What was that supposed to mean? “Hey, I practice hard.”

He gestured for me to get on the ladder. I did. He vanished and it lowered me to the ground. In a few seconds, he was coming back toward me.

“I’m not saying you don’t, just that you make it look so easy,” he said. “Did you always know the wire is what you wanted to do?”

That was such a compliment coming from him that I almost missed the question. I snapped back to attention. “What, the wire? You’ve seen my dad—he’s better than me. I wanted to achieve that. Still trying to.”

“I prefer you to your dad.”

“It’d be a little creepy if you didn’t. Despite the fact our grandparents apparently preferred each other at one point.” There it was. The first mention of what we’d discovered. Saying it made me feel vulnerable, and I was even more aware of him, standing in front of me, close enough to reach out and touch.

“True.” Remy nodded, but didn’t look uncomfortable. That was a relief. “I’ve been doing trapeze since I could walk. But I didn’t choose. It was chosen for me—for all of us.”

“But you love it now, don’t you? You wouldn’t work so hard, if you didn’t.”

“It’s one of the reasons I started trying the quad. To add something
I
wanted to do in our act. I wish we’d grown up training with the same freedom you did.”

“Remy,” I said, and reached out to him before I could stop myself. Before I realized it was a risk, I had his hand in both of mine. “I’m sorry about what Kat said about your grandfather the other day.”

Remy’s head gave a slight shake. “Don’t. You shouldn’t be.” He put his other hand on top of mine. “You know I told you I didn’t want to be one of those guys?”

“You aren’t.”

He waited, his eyes on mine, and I was quiet.

“It’s a choice. Not that I ever could be, but . . . Jules, none of that was news. I grew up with ‘Roman Garcia: Roman Gladiator.’ You know, he used to tell us the stories of his conquests—of the women he slept with, led on, screwed and then screwed over—while my grandmother was right there. She could hear every word. I would
never
want to be like him.”

I clutched his hand like it was the ladder soaring up to the wire. “I’m so sorry.”

“But I would never wish for a different family,” he said. “Dita, Novio, my parents. I know how lucky I am. I would never wish it different, even the bad parts. Never. But I wish he had hurt people less. And I wish you didn’t have to listen to all this stuff about Nan.”

“What if she
was
jealous? It’s still crazy, right, the idea that she could have used magic for it?”

He didn’t answer right away. “Yes,” he said. “Still crazy. And we’re going to find out who
is
behind this.”

And that was the truth. I could tell he meant it. He was hanging in there with me on our search. It made me want to fall into him, into
us
. But I was still too afraid.

He grinned, like he sensed the need to lighten the moment. But what he said next wasn’t funny. “I wish our families didn’t hate each other.”

Before I could respond, he was pulling his hands away and backing toward the light booth, saying, “Enough of that for tonight, though. I’m getting closer. Have a seat and tell me if you see anything else I can adjust.”

So I did.

By the time I made my way back to the RV, the grounds were silent. Even the last carousers were in for the night, so I took my time, wondering whether I’d missed my opportunity to let Remy know what I wanted. If I had the guts to officially want it. Our first kiss had been almost an accident. The risk to both of us if it happened again seemed much bigger now.

Grass tickled my feet, crickets singing loudly in the darkness. Remy was going to make that catch, one night soon. And I’d know I had a part in it. But no one else would know—they might never know. As it should be. We acted as each other’s invisible nets these days, supporting and saving with no one else the wiser. Without him, I’d have been on my own, digging into the past, trying to decide if magic was real. Or, much worse, I’d be in the river in Jacksonville.

I stopped at my window. I’d pull myself up and shimmy quietly inside until I was safe in bed. There were benefits to the kind of strength you get as a performer that were a major help at sneaking out and back in.

A low cough sounded, and I turned. Sam stood at the door to the RV, his palm on the handle. We looked at each other.

“Sam?” I whispered.

But he didn’t answer, only lifted a hand in greeting. He opened the door and went inside, silent as a thief. A silent, happy thief. There’d been the hint of a smile on his face, and bumping into me hadn’t budged it.

I made my way back through the window and waited for him to come in so we could talk and I could find out if he’d been with Dita . . . or somewhere else altogether. I’d been neglecting my snooping duties as his surrogate sister. But he didn’t visit, and after a long time, I went to sleep.

I’d get the dirt tomorrow.

nineteen

Sam always got to the mess tent before me at breakfast, and I spotted him at our usual exile table as soon as I entered the tent. I was on a mission to talk to him. Grabbing the last glistening cream cheese Danish from the deluxe catering table, I started his way.

Only to be nearly plowed down by Thurston’s pixie-small but high-energy admin assistant as she waltzed in to make an announcement. She clapped her hands for attention, and shouted, “All Call in twenty minutes. All Call in the big top in twenty. Everyone—crew, performers—should be there. Orders of the boss. Spread the word.”

Someone
was getting to like the lingo. And she left the tent buzzing in her wake.

An All Call was rare once the season got under way. Announcements tended to be minor and spread by word of mouth or flyers tacked onto a board at the back of the mess. Getting a message to everyone was easy enough; the circus was an efficient place to spread news . . . and gossip. As I knew firsthand.

Sam’s eyes met mine, and he got up and ambled over to me. “Wonder what this is about?”

Wonder where you were coming back from last night
.

“Hopefully we’re not both busted,” I said, low.

Sam didn’t appear to see the humor, which wasn’t like him. “That wouldn’t require an All Call.”

He was so serious this morning. Interesting. I snagged an orange juice and managed a bite of the pastry from heaven as we walked outside. “Sam, slow down.”

“We don’t want to be late,” he said.

I stepped in front of him, making him stop. A few people behind us grumbled with irritation as they were forced to go around. Sam could’ve ignored me and kept going, but my breakfast would have ended up all over both of us.

I handed the juice to him. “Hold this. We’ve got a few minutes. Now, over here. You know when you’re evasive it just makes me want the details.”

We stepped out of the leisurely stampede of performers heading for the big top. I steered us to an uninterrupted stretch of grass in the morning sun along the back of the mess tent. Then I gave Sam my best
I’m waiting, explain yourself
expression.

“You know, I’m not interrogating
you
about where you were last night,” he said.

“I know, and I’m shocked. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to know where
you
were. They hardly even police your whereabouts. It’s one of your boy perks. So why were you sneaking?”

Sam stared over my shoulder like he was deciding something. I ate some more pastry while I waited.

“Okay,” he said. “I’m only not asking you because I know where you were. You’ve been hanging out with Remy when he rehearses at night.”

I froze. Completely. I had no idea what to say. Whether to bother denying it or try to explain.

“I’m not going to rat you out, Jules. Give me some credit. I don’t care who you date, and your parents’—and Nan’s—thing against the Garcias has nothing to do with us.”

I was reminded that he didn’t have the whole story of why Remy and I were meeting.

“And you know about my activities because . . .”

“Because I was with Dita. We’ve been seeing each other. Quietly.”

“Not just riding lessons!” I shoved the rest of the Danish into my mouth and swatted Sam’s arm with a sticky hand. “Shut up!”

“No, this is where you have to shut up.”

I was offended. “I’m not going to tell either. We have to keep all this secret or Mom and Dad will
flip
.”

Sam shook his head. “No. That’s not why I haven’t told anyone. This is still new. Jules . . . She’s not sure of me yet. I’m waiting until she is. But I don’t care if they disapprove. I . . . I really like her. They’ll have to get over it.”

“Sam, I apologize. I never figured you for a romantic.”

He rolled his eyes. “Stop reminding me that there are other benefits to keeping this secret.”

“I think she’s great,” I told him, seriously. “I can’t wait to get to know her.”

“She is,” he agreed. “But don’t scare her off.”

He and I exchanged a conspiratorial smile.

“There’s something you should know,” I said. “Something Remy and I found out. Nan, well, she had an affair with Roman Garcia.”

Sam gave a low whistle. “You think that’s why he spread all that stuff about her? So he’d come off like the innocent, misled lamb kind of cheater?”

I nodded. “And maybe it’s why she’s so determined to cling to this idea of being able to do magic. I’m thinking maybe it’s that she’s still hurting from that after all these years. Maybe he even helped convince her it was true that she could do magic in the first place. He sounds like a real piece of work.”

“You’re right about that,” Sam said. “Dita told me about his reaction the first time she borrowed one of her brother’s suits and wore it. She was just a kid, and he threw it away. Told her she was born to wear sequins and be a fantasy for boys, not dress like them.”

He was angry when he said it, and so was I. Roman Garcia wasn’t fit to date our Nan, let alone break her heart and leave her with a delusion that sent our family out into the cold for decades.

“How did you find out?” he asked. “And why?”

Oh.
It wasn’t that I’d been keeping it a secret from Sam for any real reason. I knew he’d agree with me about the importance of finding out the real history—so we could explain away the “magic.” But it felt like the mystery belonged to Remy and me. The rose with the elephant hair, the peacock feather, the articles pinned to the murder board . . . all of it.

“Just curious,” I said. “Don’t worry about it.”

There’d be plenty of time to share the rest when we had answers. If I told Sam now, there was no way he would be patient enough to uncover Thurston’s secrets on the sly. He could be as unpredictable as Nan, in his way. Especially if he thought there was a threat to the family. Or to his new girlfriend.

I hoped he didn’t see the flash of jealousy I felt. I didn’t want
to feel it. Hearing from his own mouth that he and Dita were an item, unofficially but officially, drove home that I wasn’t sure how to describe Remy and me anymore. Were we friends? Were we more? I wanted it to be more, but I had no idea.

“
All Call!
” one of the clowns bellowed somewhere not that far off, and Sam and I started back.

A group of stragglers came into view. The Garcias, including Dita and Remy, happened to be in front. Dita had on a man’s loose white button-down, and gave a casual little wave to Sam while pretending to smooth her cropped hair behind her ear. His smile turned into one for her alone. Remy and I exchanged a look, one that I wanted to interpret but couldn’t quite. Novio gave Sam and me a mini-sneer, and I blinked first.

If
something else happened between Remy and me, something besides one stolen kiss and looking into circus voodoo.
If
we became the more I longed for, I still couldn’t imagine telling my parents and Nan we were together. Not yet.

We joined the tail end of the herd. Sam slipped his phone out of his pocket, and I peeked to see him send Dita a quick text:
Good morning
, it said,
I can’t wait to talk later.

“Sam, I wish I had your guts,” I said.

“You don’t need them,” he said, with a familiar Sam shrug. “You’re the Princess of the Air, as brave as it gets.”

I chose a seat on one of the bottom rows beside Dad. Sam took a spot on Mom’s other side, and they began discussing the horses.

“What’s this about?” I asked Dad.

“Bosses like to remind everyone who the boss is from time to time,” Dad said, and added, “And we let them believe it.”

Well, he was in a good mood. Probably because he didn’t know his two youngest family members were traitors. Definitely because, unlike me, he had no reason to harbor any mistrust of Thurston.

I surveyed the crowd of performers and crew settling into the stands. Once people had stopped coming in, and a low hum of conversation buzzed, the center ring spot came on and the owner in question strode in like he was performing. He was dressed in a
T-shirt though, not his ringmaster’s tails.

With a wave of his hand, the crowd quieted. He had gotten better at commanding the reaction he wanted, and with him right in front of me, it was hard to believe he was up to anything except doing his job.

“I thought it was time for a meeting, now that we’ve been on the road for more than five weeks, and we’re hitting our stride. As you all know, we have five days of shows in our biggest city yet coming up at the end of next week: Chicago.”

This earned a few catcalls and whistles from the crowd, and he brightened, clearly encouraged to go on.

“It’s the big marker at the middle of our season. We’ll have some VIP guests, but more, we’ll have an opportunity to truly make that national splash we’ve all been waiting for. We’ve come close, but this is when we cement our story. When we convince the world we’re a success.” He paused. “Trust me when I say the spotlights will be brighter than ever. I want you to pull out every stop. Anything you’ve been holding back, let it go.” He lightened his tone to add, “Garcias, make that quad and there’s a significant bonus in it for you.”

I cringed on Remy’s behalf. They were at the bend on the other side of the stands from us, so we had a decent view of them. Remy set his arm across the back of his mother’s shoulders, nudging her with his own shoulder, getting her to smile at Thurston’s challenge. Hers was a worse false smile than Dita’s. Remy was better at it than both of them.

“And Jules . . .”

I startled. Thurston scanned the crowd until he found me, then went on.

“You’re the other half of my victory plan. The city has asked us if you’d hold off the building walk until their Fourth of July festivities. It’ll be the day after our last shows, but in the same location we’d discussed.”

My pulse jumped at the news. The Chicago site w
as going to be the biggest and best of my outdoor wire walks since the bridge in Jacksonville. Doing it over the holiday meant an even larger crowd. The idea was exciting, but tackling another stunt this high profile did scare me a little, with our culprit still unknown. I once again had the feeling I was on a ship before a storm, that the stands and the earth were rocking beneath my feet.

Thurston gathered his hands in front of him, then swung them out, palms opening with a flourish. “This is it, guys. This is when we will make or break the Cirque American’s future. It’s been a pleasure coming this far, but from here until our last show in August, there’s no letting up.”

Since the season started, I hadn’t given any thought to the Cirque not continuing on next year. But beneath Thurston’s showman was a businessman. He’d walk away if this wasn’t as huge a success as he expected. Of course he would. He could do it and not look back. It was up to us to make it worth his while not to. The earth was
definitely
shifting beneath my feet. I had to stay upright, no matter what potential saboteurs lurked in the wings. Even if the boss giving us instructions turned out to be behind it all.

And I thought the stakes were high before.