"Oh, Vernon, tell Mike. I'll be watching the cages tonight."
"Yes, sir."
Grimaldi looked back, his eyes narrowed. "You sure that prick wasn't asking questions about Tommy Kellerman?"
"Yes, sir."
"Cats all ready, are they?"
"Yes, sir, I'll double-check them before we go in."
Grimaldi waved his big hand to indicate to Vernon he should carry on with his business. In truth he was not sure what he should do himself. He looked at his watch; there was still a good three quarters of an hour before it was time for Ruda to go on, but she had to be dressed for the parade. He didn't want to go back to the trailer yet, so he walked around, making his way toward the cages. He heard his name called and turned to see Mike waving to him.
"Boss, there's a guy and a blond woman. They've been asking the way to your trailer. They went toward it about two minutes ago.
Grimaldi hurried to Mike. "They say who they were?"
"Yeah, I think the guy was a baron, maybe one of the celebrity guests. There's a bit of a bash in the main conference room over in the administration block."
Grimaldi shrugged. There were always stars at these big openings. He ran his hands through his soaking hair. "Screw 'em. Oh! Mike, in future you want to show any people around the freezer and meat trailers, you get permission, okay, son?"
"Yes, sir."
They walked on to the covered tent where the animals were housed.
"What did he want to go in there for anyway?"
Mike was uneasy. He knew he should have got permission, so he lied. "Oh, he asked us a few questions, you know, if we'd seen Kellerman, Mrs. Grimaldi's ex."
"I know who he was!" snapped Luis.
"It was raining, so we took cover in the trailer."
"What did you tell him?"
Mike wiped his face. "Nothing, sir. I'd better see to the props." He tried to move away, but Grimaldi held on to his arm.
"The cats all settled and in order?" Grimaldi asked.
"Yes, sir, everything's in order."
Grimaldi walked from one cage to the next. As always, the cats filled him with awe. Their wild, menacing beauty affected him deeply. He checked each cage, and then he heard the low heavy growl, the dull rumble. Mamon's eyes glinted, his head hung low, feet splayed out. He sensed the man's fear.
Their voices spoke in unison. "Sasha! Sophia! Jason, Luis..." Four of Ruda's cats had the names of Rebecca's children. They hugged and laughed at the coincidences. Grimaldi hid behind Mamon's cage as the women approached, watching them. They walked in step. But from a distance, Grimaldi could see that Rebecca was just a fraction behind Ruda, as if the movement was not instinctive, but copied. Because Rebecca was so slender she appeared, in the low lights of the animal arena, to be Ruda's shadow.
They had not yet caught up on the lost years, they could not in so short a time. Only sections of each other's lives had been snatched and clutched at. Ruda knew Rebecca was married with four children, Rebecca knew Ruda was married and was an animal trainer. There were many layers to uncover, many questions to ask, but all they wanted now was this closeness. They studied each other, touched each other, to make sure they really were reunited.
Rebecca showed no fear of the cats, only an extraordinary excitement. She wanted to touch them, put her hands through the bars, but Ruda had to hold her back, whispering that it was too soon.
"Too soon, yes, too soon," repeated Rebecca.
Ruda's physical strength made Rebecca weak with adoration. Ruda's powerful body and rough hands made her want to be wrapped in Ruda's arms. Ruda felt Rebecca's need and it awoke in her a gentleness, a protectiveness that made her body tingle. She showed off her animals with pride, wanting Rebecca to see her loved ones, and to see her perform.
"This is everything I dreamed..."
"Yes, you dreamed this, and I want..."
"You to see me, with my children."
"Yes, they are my children," Ruda paused, and gave a strange half laugh. "Sasha, your last daughter is twelve, yes?"
Rebecca nodded. Ruda recalled the pains she had felt at the time of each birth. Sasha's birth pains she remembered most clearly. They coincided with the time she had been told she could never carry a child. As if she understood this, Rebecca clasped her sister's hand. In some ways it was as if they had never been apart. Rebecca accepted Ruda without question. In that one hour, the relationship had reverted to the way it had always been. Ruda was dominant, Rebecca passive. Ruda was born first, she had preceded Rebecca by two minutes.
The music became louder, and Grimaldi watched Ruda lead Rebecca toward the artists' entrance. He was soaked and made his way back to the trailer to change for the show.
The noise was deafening. Torsen couldn't see Freda or Rieckert anywhere. Apologetically, he edged his way through a group of jugglers waiting to enter.
Torsen moved cautiously along the tiers of seats. He stood at the edge of the ring and looked around the audience. He could see walls of lights and thousands of seats. He didn't have his seat number — all he knew was that he was in the front row. He squinted through the semidarkness, searching the sea of faces. Beyond the small ring was the vast main ring, beyond that the third ring. Suddenly the huge big top was plunged into darkness. The crowd murmured, sensing the show was about to begin. The fanfares blared, once, twice: "Ladies and gentlemen, Schmidt's World Famous Circus welcomes you! Three rings, hundreds of artists. We welcome you to a night of unparalleled extravaganza! From Argentina, the world famous bareback riders — The Comancheros..."
Torsen, his eyes at last accustomed to the darkness, made out Freda's and Rieckert's faces at the side of the main ring's entrance. He scurried into his vacant seat just as the horses thundered into the ring.
Freda clasped his arm. "Isn't this exciting? I have never been to a circus before!"
Torsen inched off his wet coat, and Freda moved close to him, slipping her hand through the crook of his arm. Torsen touched her fingers.
"I am glad I asked you to come with me."
She looked in awe at the ring as the Argentinian riders screamed and called out at the top of their voices. Twenty-five horses, groomed and gleaming, galloped around carrying a sparkling banner.
The bareback girls whooped and yelled as they bounced and bobbed, leaping to stand upright on the horses' backs with nothing more than a glittering red ribbon for a rein. The smell of the horses, the sawdust, and the resin added to the excitement.
Torsen was happy. His father had been right. Freda was lovely.
Grimaldi was buttoning the high collar of his clean shirt when he heard the fanfares. He knew exactly how many there would be before the parade ended, and he quickly tucked his shirt into his trousers. Then he opened the bunk seat, and looked over the rifles.
The baron and Helen asked one of the parking lot attendants which one was the Grimaldi trailer. He was taken aback when the man asked: "Where's your pass?"
"I don't have one, I am Baron..."
"Without a pass you can't be in the artists' section."
"I wish to speak with Mr. Grimaldi and his wife Ruda Kellerman. It's very important."
"No way. See the big tent — they'll be in there. I'm sorry, please leave. I can't let you wander around here. Go on through the barrier."
The baron was about to argue when Helen suggested that perhaps they should wait; it was obvious they would not be able to speak to either Grimaldi or Ruda Kellerman now.
"Sir! Mr. Grimaldi!"
Luis turned, quickly hiding the rifle beneath his rain cape.
The attendant ran to Grimaldi. They talked, then the boy pointed back to the baron and Helen.
"I told them to wait, sir. They have no pass, but they said it was important."
Grimaldi walked up to the baron. "What do you want?"