“Dear Lord,” he says. He tries to smile, but his split lip prevents him. He takes a drag from the cigarette. “Hard to say who got the worst of it, eh, my boy?”
“What do you want?” I say, leaning over and rasping the edge off a huge toenail.
“You’re not still sore, are you?”
I don’t answer.
He watches me work for a moment. “Look, I know I was out of line. Sometimes my imagination gets the better of me.”
“Oh, is that what happened?”
“Look here,” he says, blowing smoke. “I was hoping we could let bygones be bygones. So what do you say, my boy—friends again?” He extends his hand.
I stand up straight, both arms at my sides. “You hit her, August.”
The other men watch wordlessly. August looks stunned. His mouth moves. He pulls his hand back and transfers the lit cigarette to it. His hands are bruised, the nails cracked. “Yes. I know.”
I stand back and appraise Rosie’s toenails. “
Rosie!”
She lifts her enormous foot and puts it back on the ground. I kick the overturned tub toward her other front foot. “
!!” Rosie shifts her weight and places her foot in the center of the tub. “Teraz do przodu,” I say, poking the back of her leg with my fingers until her toenails hang over the front edge of the tub. “Good girl,” I say, patting her shoulder. She lifts her trunk and opens her mouth in a smile. I reach in and stroke her tongue.
“Do you know where she is?” says August.
I lean over and evaluate Rosie’s toenails, running my hands along the underside of her foot.
“I need to see her,” he continues.
I start filing. A fine spray of toenail powder shoots into the air.
“Fine. Be that way,” he says, his voice shrill. “But she is my wife, and I will find her. Even if I have to go from hotel to hotel, I will find her.”
I look up just as he flicks the cigarette. It arcs through the air and lands in Rosie’s open mouth, sizzling as it hits her tongue. She roars, panicked, throwing her head and fishing inside her mouth with her trunk.
August marches off. I turn back to Rosie. She stares at me, a look of unspeakable sadness on her face. Her amber eyes are filled with tears.
I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN he’d go from hotel to hotel. But I wasn’t thinking, and so she’s in the second hotel we came across. Couldn’t be easier to find.
I know I’m being watched, so I bide my time. At the first opportunity, I slip from the lot and rush to the hotel. I wait around the corner for a minute, watching, making sure I wasn’t followed. After I’ve caught my breath, I remove my hat, wipe my forehead, and enter the building.
The clerk looks up. It’s a new one. His eyes glaze over.
“What do you want?” he says, as though he’s seen me before, as though battered rotten tomatoes walk through his door every day.
“I’m here to see Miss L’Arche,” I say, remembering that Marlena has checked in using her maiden name. “Marlena L’Arche.”
“There is no one here by that name,” he says.
“Yes, of course there is,” I say. “I was with her when she checked in this morning.”
“I’m sorry, but you’re incorrect.”
I stare at him for a moment and then sprint for the stairs.
“Hey, pal! You get back here!”
I mount the steps, two at a time.
“If you go up those stairs, I’m calling the police!” he shouts.
“Go ahead!”
“I’m doing it! I’m calling right now!”
“Good!”
I rap on her door with my least-bruised knuckles. “Marlena?”
A second later, the clerk grabs me and spins me around, shoving me against the wall. He has me by the lapels, his face right in mine. “I told you before, she’s not here.”
“It’s all right, Albert. This is a friend.” Marlena has come out into the hallway behind us.
He freezes, panting hot breath on me. His eyes widen in confusion. “What?” he says.
“Albert?” I say, equally confused. “Albert?”
“But what about earlier?” sputters Albert.
“This isn’t the same man. This is another one.”
“August was here?” I say, finally clueing in. “Are you okay?”
Albert jerks around from me to her and back again.
“This is a friend. This is the man who fought him,” Marlena explains.
Albert lets me down. He makes an awkward attempt to smooth my jacket and then extends his hand. “Sorry, pal. You look an awful lot like that other guy.”
“Uh, that’s all right,” I say, taking his hand. He squeezes and I wince.
“He’s coming after you,” I say to Marlena. “We’ve got to move you.”
“Don’t be silly,” Marlena says.
“He’s already been,” says Albert. “I told him she wasn’t here and he seemed to buy it. That’s why I was surprised when you—he—er, showed up again.”
Downstairs, the bell over the front door tinkles. Albert and I lock eyes. I hustle Marlena into the room, and he hurries down.
“May I help you?” he says as I close the door. I can tell from his voice that it’s not August.
I lean against the door, breathing hard with relief. “I’d really feel better if you let me find you a room farther from the lot.”
“No. I want to stay here.”
“But why?”
“He’s already been here and he thinks I’m somewhere else. Besides, it’s not like I can avoid him forever. I have to go back to the train tomorrow.”
I hadn’t even thought of that.
She crosses the room, dragging a hand across the top of the small table as she passes. Then she drops into a chair and rests her head against its back.
“He tried to apologize to me,” I say.
“And did you accept it?”
“Of course not,” I say, offended.
She shrugs. “It would be easier for you if you did. If you don’t, you’ll probably get fired.”
“He hit you, Marlena!”
She closes her eyes.
“My God—has he always been like this?”
“Yes. Well, he’s never hit me before. But these mood swings? Yes. I never know what I’m going to wake up to.”
“Uncle Al said he’s a paranoid schizophrenic.”
She drops her head.
“How have you stood it?”
“I didn’t have much choice, did I? I married him before I realized. You’ve seen it. When he’s happy, he’s the most charming creature on earth. But when something sets him off . . .” She sighs, and then waits so long I wonder if she’s going to continue. When she does, her voice is tremulous. “The first time it happened we’d only been married three weeks, and it scared me to death. He beat one of the menagerie workers so badly he lost an eye. I saw him do it. I called my parents and asked if I could come home, but they wouldn’t even speak to me. It was bad enough that I’d married a Jew, but now I wanted a divorce as well? My father made Mother tell me that in his eyes I had died the day I eloped.”
I cross the room and kneel beside her. I raise my hand to stroke her hair, but after a few seconds place it on the arm of the chair instead.
“Three weeks later, another menagerie man lost his arm while helping August feed the cats. He died of blood loss before anyone could find out the details. Later in the season I found out that the only reason August had a string of liberty horses to give me was that the previous trainer—another woman—jumped from the moving train after joining August for an evening in his stateroom. There have been other incidents, too, although this is the first time he’s turned on me.” She slumps forward. A moment later her shoulders shake.