“Oh, say, I know who you are!” says the woman half of the couple on the bench. “You’re the girl from the poster! Yes! I’m sure of it.” She turns to the man sitting next to her. “Norbert, that’s the girl from the poster! Isn’t it? Miss, you’re the circus star, aren’t you?”
Marlena swings the door open, adjusts the brim of her hat, and steps outside. I follow.
“Wait,” calls the clerk. “I think we may have a—”
I slam the door behind me.
THE HOTEL THREE DOORS down has no such qualms, although I dislike this clerk almost as much as the other. He’s just dying to know what happened. His eyes sweep over us, shining, curious, lewd. I know what he’d assume if Marlena’s black eye were the only injury between us, but because I am far worse off, the story is not so clear.
“Room 2B,” he says, dangling a key in front of him and still drinking in the sight of us. “Up the stairs and to the right. End of the hall.”
I follow Marlena, watching her sculpted calves as she climbs the stairs.
She fusses with the key for a minute and then stands aside, leaving it in the lock. “I can’t get it. Can you try?”
I jiggle it in the cavity. After a few seconds, the deadbolt slides. I push the door open and stand aside to let Marlena enter. She tosses her hat on the bed and walks to the window, which is open. A gust of wind inflates the curtain, first blowing it into the room and then sucking it back against the screen.
The room is plain but adequate. There are flowers on the wallpaper and curtains, and the bed is covered with chenille. The bathroom door is open. The bathroom itself is large, and the tub has clawed feet.
I set the suitcase down and stand awkwardly. Marlena has her back to me. There’s a cut on her neck, from where the necklace clasp dug into it.
“Do you need anything else?” I ask, turning my hat over in my hands.
“No, thank you,” she says.
I watch her for a while longer. I want to cross the room and wrap her in my arms, but instead I leave, shutting the door quietly behind me.
BECAUSE I CAN’T THINK of anything else to do, I head for the menagerie and do the usual. I cut up, stir, and measure food. I check a yak’s abscessed tooth and hold hands with Bobo, leading him around as I check the rest of the animals.
I have progressed to mucking out when Diamond Joe comes up behind me. “Uncle Al wants to see you.”
I stare at him for a moment, then lay my shovel in the straw.
Uncle Al is in the pie car, sitting behind a plate of steak and fries. He’s holding a cigar and blowing smoke rings. His entourage stands behind him, sober-faced.
I remove my hat. “You wanted to see me?”
“Ah, Jacob,” he says, leaning forward. “Glad to see you. Did you get Marlena sorted out?”
“She’s in a room, if that’s what you mean.”
“That’s part of it, yes.”
“Then I’m not sure what you mean.”
He is silent for a moment. Then he sets his cigar down and brings his hands together, forming a steeple with his fingers. “It’s quite simple. I can’t afford to lose either one of them.”
“As far as I know, she has no intention of leaving the show.”
“And neither does he. Imagine, if you will, what it will be like if they both remain but don’t get back together. August is simply beside himself with grief.”
“Surely you’re not suggesting she go back to him.”
He smiles and cocks his head.
“He hit her, Al. He hit her.”
Uncle Al rubs his chin and ponders. “Yes, well. I didn’t care much for that, I must say.” He waves at the seat opposite him. “Sit.”
I approach and perch on the edge.
Uncle Al leans his head to the side, surveying me. “So was there any truth to it?”
“To what?”
He drums his fingers against the table and purses his lips. “Are you and Marlena—hmmm, how shall I put this . . .”
“No.”
“Mmmm,” he says, continuing to ponder. “Good. Didn’t think so. But good. In that case, you can help me.”
“What?” I say.
“I’ll work on him, you work on her.”
“The hell with that.”
“You’re in a bad spot, yes. A friend to both.”
“I’m no friend of his.”
He sighs, and assumes an expression of great patience. “You have to understand August. He does this occasionally. It’s not his fault.” He leans forward, peering into my face. “Good God. I think I’d better have a doctor out to look at you.”
“I don’t need a doctor. And of course it’s his fault.”
He stares at me, and then leans back in his chair. “He’s ill, Jacob.”
I say nothing.
“He’s paragon schnitzophonic.”
“He’s what?!”
“Paragon schnitzophonic,” repeats Uncle Al.
“You mean paranoid schizophrenic?”
“Sure. Whatever. But the bottom line is he’s mad as a hatter. Of course, he’s also brilliant, so we work around it. It’s harder for Marlena than the rest of us, of course. Which is why we must support her.”
I shake my head, stunned. “Do you even hear what you’re saying?”
“I cannot lose either one of them. And if they don’t get back together, August will be impossible to handle.”
“He hit her,” I repeat.
“Yes, I know, very upsetting, that. But he’s her husband, isn’t he?”
I place my hat on my head and rise.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Back to work,” I say. “I’m not going to sit here and listen to you tell me that it’s okay for August to hit her because she’s his wife. Or that it’s not his fault because he’s insane. If he’s insane, that’s all the more reason she should stay away.”
“If you want a job to go back to, you will sit back down.”
“You know what? I don’t give a damn about your job,” I say, moving to the door. “See you. Wish I could say it’s been a pleasure.”
“What about your little friend?”
I freeze. My hand is on the doorknob.
“That little shit with the dog,” he says, musing. “And that other one, too—oh, what’s his name?” He snaps his fingers as he tries to come up with it.
I turn around slowly. I know what’s coming.
“You know who I mean. That useless cripple who’s been scarfing my food and taking up space on my train for weeks without doing a lick of work. How about him?”
I stare, my face burning with hatred.
“Did you really think you could keep a stowaway without me finding out about it? Without him finding out about it?” His face is hard, his eyes glinting.
His expression suddenly softens. He smiles warmly. He spreads his hands in supplication. “You’ve got me all wrong, you know. The people on this show are my family. I care deeply about each and every one of them. But what I understand and you apparently do not as yet is that sometimes an individual has to make a sacrifice for the good of the rest of us. And what this family needs is for August and Marlena to work things out. Do we understand each other?”
I stare into his glowing eyes, thinking how very much I’d like to sink a hatchet between them.
“Yes, sir,” I say eventually. “I believe we do.”
ROSIE STANDS WITH one foot on a tub while I file her toenails. She has five on each foot, like a human. I’m working on one of her front feet when I’m suddenly aware that all human activity in the menagerie has ceased. The workers are frozen, staring at the entrance with widened eyes.
I look up. August approaches and comes to a stop in front of me. His hair flops forward, and he brushes it back with a swollen hand. His upper lip is bluish purple, split like a grilled sausage. His nose is flattened and off to the side, encrusted with blood. He holds a lit cigarette.