The Orphan's Tale(79)

“Some of these people have no homes to go back to,” I say, staying purposefully vague.

“You mean like the old Jew?” Emmet asks harshly. I am unable to hide the surprise on my face. “I know about him,” he adds.

I instantly regret having spoken—but it is too late to turn back. “If you tell him before we go, he might have the chance to escape before we leave.”

“Escape? He has no papers.” Emmet leans in close to me, his voice low, breath hot and sour. “I’m not telling him or the other workers now. And you better not either, if you know what is good for you.” He does not bother to hide his threat. My blood chills. Emmet would not hesitate to throw a person to the wolves if it suited his purpose—including me.

Not wanting to listen any longer, I stand and pocket the napkin I used to wrap some eggs and toast for Theo. “Excuse me,” I say. I walk from the cook tent back toward the train.

As I cross the fairgrounds, I pass Drina, the fortune-teller, seated beneath a different tree, closer now than the time I had seen her before. She smiles faintly and holds her tarot deck up to me, an offering. But I shake my head. I no longer want to see the future.

*

That night the crowds are still making their way from the fairgrounds when the crews begin tearing down the circus. Unlike the raising of the big top, its demise is anticlimactic, a sight nobody wants to see. Poles clank as they fall upon one another and the canvas begins to collapse like a parachute billowing to the earth. The enormous tent, once full of people and laughter, is gone as though it was never there at all. I step over discarded programs and crushed popcorn kernels that have been matted into the ground. What will be here once we are gone?

I scan the desolate scene, looking once more for Astrid. She had not come to the show. Earlier, as I prepared to perform, I kept searching the backyard, hoping. But she had not emerged from the train all night. It was the first time I had performed without her nearby and I felt helpless, as though the safety net had somehow been removed. With Herr Neuhoff gone, I needed her more than ever.

Gerda walks over to me. “Come,” she says. “We should get changed and prepare to go.” It is the most she had said to me since I joined the circus and I wonder if she senses how lost I am without Astrid.

“When do we go?” I ask as we start back to the train to change.

“Not for a few hours,” Gerda replies. “They’ll finish tearing down sometime after we are asleep. But Emmet has ordered everyone to remain on board.”

A few more hours until we leave Thiers for good. Luc appears in my mind. I had not had the chance to tell him we were going or say goodbye. I gaze longingly over my shoulder in the direction of town, wondering if there is time to find Luc. I think about how I might sneak out unnoticed, but I wouldn’t dare go to Luc’s father’s house after all that had happened, and I do not know where else I might find him.

In the dressing car, the girls are quiet as they remove their costumes and makeup, and there is none of the excitement of when we’d left Darmstadt. When I have finished changing, I start back to the sleeper. I expect to find Astrid, as I so often do, holding Theo. But he is with Elsie.

I take Theo from her. “Where’s Astrid?”

“She hasn’t come back,” Elsie replies.

“Back?” I repeat. I had assumed that since she had not been at the show she had stayed here in bed, as she had much of the time since Peter was arrested.

“She hasn’t been here since before the show,” Elsie says. “I thought she was with you.”

I peer out the window of the sleeper. Where has Astrid gone? I hadn’t seen her in the big top during the show, nor anywhere on the fairgrounds as the teardown had begun after. I carry Theo from the train and scan the length of the cars toward the front of the train, but I do not see Astrid. She wouldn’t have gone far just as we are about to leave. Unless she had gone in a last desperate attempt to find Peter. I look in the direction of town, my concern growing.

Easy, I think. Even Astrid in her current state would have known that was impossible. My eyes travel the length of the train in the opposite direction, toward the rear, taking in the final carriage that had been Herr Neuhoff’s. Then, taking in the one in front of it, I understand. Astrid did not leave. Instead, she has gone to the place where she felt closest to Peter. I start in the direction of his railcar.

I find her lying in Peter’s unmade bed, curled into a ball, facing away from me. She clutches the sheet in both hands. “Astrid...” I sit down beside her, relieved. “When I couldn’t find you, I thought...” I do not finish the thought. Instead I put my hand on her shoulder and gently roll her over, expecting to see tears at last. But her face is stony, eyes blank. Though the railcar is chilly, faint perspiration coats her upper lip.

My concern rises again. “Astrid, are you feeling worse? Has your bleeding started again?”

“No, of course not.”

I reach out and touch her head. “You still feel warm.” I should have fought her harder when she refused to see a doctor but now there is no time.

I hand Theo to Astrid then lie down beside them, smelling Peter in the soiled sheets and trying not to think of the nights he and Astrid have spent here while on the road. I want to tell her what Emmet said about the workers, but I cannot burden her now. A moment later, her breathing evens and when I look over she is asleep.