"Tina?... Tina?!"
He kicked at the set of steps in a fury. He felt impotent, angry, unable to believe she would go away, leave him without a word. He turned toward the big tent and began to weave his way toward it, cursing loudly, striking out at the sides of trailers as he passed.
Mike ran into the meat truck looking for Ruda. He was told she was feeding the cats. Mike took off, calling her name, dodging animals as they were being led into the ring.
Ruda was coming out of Sasha's cage and wheeling the feed trolley on to the next cage. Mike shouted for her; she turned to look in his direction. She entered the next cage and put down the food, talking softly to the tigers as they approached her. She rubbed their heads, tossing chunks of meat to them. Mike was still calling her. She let herself out, bolted the cage, maneuvering the trolley. "I'm here, Mike!"
He ran toward her, his face flushed. "It's the boss, he's screaming and yelling over at the main ring, you'd better get him. Mr. Schmidt is walking around, and a party of school kids has just arrived."
Ruda muttered, "I have to finish the feed."
"He looks kind of crazy, Ruda, he's breaking up chairs. No one can get near him."
Ruda picked up Mamon's big bowl and unbolted his cage. She stepped inside. "Be right with you... Ma'angel... come on, dinner time, come on baby."
Mike leaned against the bars. "He's thrown a punch at Willy Noakes, kicked a hole in his trailer."
Ruda's attention wavered from Mamon to Mike, and the big cat snarled, swiping a paw at her, demanding her full attention.
"Get back... No... don't you dare! Here — eat."
She tossed another hunk of meat, and Mamon caught it in his jaw, then lowered his head to rip it apart.
"Rudaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa... Ruda!" Grimaldi bellowed.
Mike turned, startled. Grimaldi was heading toward them, carrying a pitchfork, dragging it along the cage bars. "Ruda!"
Ruda moved further into the cage. She faced Mamon, and tossed out more meat. She rested her back on the bars, turning to her right. She could see Grimaldi staggering along with the huge pitchfork.
"Mike, get him away from the cages!"
Mike, terrified of the big man, stuttered out to him to keep back.
"You want to make me?"
Grimaldi shoved the boy aside and came to Mamon's cage. "She's gone, she's left me, she's gone!"
Ruda threw another chunk of meat, but Mamon lowered onto his haunches, no longer interested in eating. He let out a low, rumbling growl. Ruda was trapped in the small cage; the exit door was behind Mamon. "Good boy, back... back off... GET BACK!"
Grimaldi banged the bar. "What did you do to her? You bitch! What have you done?"
Mamon hurled himself against the bars, trying to slice through with his paws, snarling and snapping at Grimaldi. Ruda went around him and out of the trapdoor. She bolted it shut and ran to the front of the cage. "Get away from the cages... Get away from the cages!"
Grimaldi vented all his pent-up anger at the snarling and snapping lion. He pushed the pitchfork through the bars and caught him on the rump: The cat went crazy, lunging at the bars and roaring with rage.
Ruda struggled with her husband, trying to jerk the pitchfork out of his hands. They fought like two men, pushing and shoving each other.
"Let go, Luis, let it go...!"
"She's gone, she's left me. You did it! You did this to me!"
Ruda brought up her knee and slammed it into his groin. He gasped with pain, let go the fork, and doubled up in agony. She took the fork and pointed the sharp iron prongs at Grimaldi's chest. "Get back... Get out of here!"
He tried to grab at one of the prongs with his bare hand, but Ruda yanked it free — as she did, the prong sliced into his palm. He stumbled back, blood streaming from his hand.
Ruda tossed the fork to Mike and shoved Grimaldi with her hands. "Get out... go on, go back to the trailer — back, get back."
He stared at her, yet moved back a couple of steps. "I'm not one of your lions, one of your cats... You pushed too far this time, you pushed too far!"
Grimaldi turned on his heels and stumbled away. Ruda turned on Mike.
"What the fuck are you gaping at? Get that fork back onto the truck, and bring the feed trays — go on!"
Not until she had fed every cat did she take off for her trailer, but halfway there she was stopped by the administrator. Mr. Kelm asked that she go over to the offices immediately. The chairman wished to speak to her. Ruda followed, the sweat still dripping off her.
The big man was standing, his coat draped over his shoulders, his silver-topped cane propped against a large oval table. As Ruda walked in, he snatched the cane and brought it down with a crash on the highly polished table.
"We pride ourselves... understand me, Mrs. Grimaldi... we take pride in ourselves... in the fact that everyone working here is the best. The best in the world! We have millions riding on this show, millions in advertising — we have school groups coming through... I want every child to go home and say they want to come to the show, that's parents, sisters, brothers. And today those children witnessed a brawl — a brawl! — involving one of my top acts... Now, if you and your husband have domestic problems, sort them out in private — not in a disgusting public display. You may be a top act, Mrs. Grimaldi, but I will not have the name of this circus damaged, even if it means ending your and your husband's contract. Do I make myself clear?"
Ruda nodded, furious at being spoken to like a child. She turned as if to leave.
"Every act is replaceable, Mrs. Grimaldi — remember that!"
She faced him. "Not every act. You show me one cat trainer, one act on a par with mine..."
"Yours?"
"Yes, mine, my husband no longer works in the ring."
"I see... If your husband has a problem — get rid of it! Do I make myself clear?"
She nodded, and glared at him. He dismissed her with a wave of his hand. She turned and walked out, carefully closing the door behind her.
Schmidt turned to Kelm. "That woman is trouble! Any more problems and they both leave. We can hire the lion act from the Moscow Circus. Keep your eyes on the pair of them and let me know what's going on!"
Ruda tore back to the trailer in a rage, only to find Grimaldi, his hand wrapped in a towel, clumsily loading one of his rifles. As soon as she saw what he was doing, she slammed the door shut and locked it. "Put that away. Luis, put it away!"
He turned, sneering, cocked the gun and released the safety catch. He then pressed the barrel to his neck. "I was going to shoot that beast, that crazy fucking animal. Then I decided I should kill you... now, I think I'll blow my own head off, because that's what you want, isn't it?... Isn't it?"
She sat on the bunk, forcing herself to stay calm. "If that's what you think, then do it — go on, shoot."
He wavered, but did not put down the gun.
"Why do you think I want you dead?" she snapped.
"Give me one good reason you don't?"
She shrugged. "That might be tough, but if pressed I'd have to admit that maybe I need you."
He lowered the gun. "You haven't needed me for ten years."
She watched the gun being lowered, with relief. She couldn't deal with one more scene, not after that lecture. "I don't need you for the act, that's true... but maybe I need you."
He slumped down, the gun loose in his hand. "Bullshit, you don't need anyone, you never have — unless you want something, then you pretend to need."
Ruda stared at him. "Why don't you give me that gun and stop playing around? Come on, give it to me."