The Orphan's Tale(90)

“Tonight.”

“So you were going to leave with him without telling me? You were just going to sneak off.”

“I was going to go after you had gone,” I say, as if this somehow makes things better. “I’m sorry.”

“You were going to take Theo, where exactly?” she demands. “You would have no shelter or a transit pass or even decent papers. There’s no place for a child, no one to watch him there for you. What were you planning to do, carry him as you run around the forest with the partisans?” As she ticks off all of the failures in my plan, now laid bare, I see all of the things that Luc and I hadn’t thought through in the rush of the moment.

“We’ll manage,” I say stubbornly.

“Well, that doesn’t matter anymore,” Astrid declares. “You have the pass now and you are leaving.”

I try again. “Surely leaving with Luc would be safer than going alone.”

Astrid shakes her head firmly. “Getting to Lisbon and out of Europe would be safest. You must be strong on your own now. You have to do what is best for Theo.” She holds out the pass again, as if it is all decided.

I start to take the envelope. Then I hesitate, seeing Luc and a life together waiting for us. I hand it back. “No,” I say, hearing the strength in my voice, deciding for myself now. My future is with Luc. And if I go with him, Astrid will take the pass. That way we both have a chance.

Her eyes widen with surprise. “How dare you? I’ve offered you everything, and you want to give it up for some boy?”

“It isn’t that simple...” I begin.

“I’m telling you one last time: Take the pass and go.” She holds it out to me, her voice cold as steel. The space between us seems to grow.

I look at Astrid, wavering. Going with Luc against her wishes now will surely be the final break. Once I would have done whatever Astrid had asked, done anything for her approval. But something had changed these last days. I’ve been the one who has had to take care of Astrid, make decisions for her, for all of us really. I can’t simply listen anymore. I have to do what I think best.

“I’m sorry,” I say, stepping back.

Her eyes widen with surprise then narrow again with anger. Then she turns away.

“Astrid, wait,” I say, trying again. If only I can make her understand. But she stalks off, leaving me alone.

In the distance, the bell rings, signaling the audience to their seats. And beckoning us, one last time, to the air.





25

Noa

So it is to be the last show.

Tears stream down my own cheeks now as the opening music builds to a crescendo and the house lights dim. What’s wrong with me? I thought I wanted this, to leave the circus and find a path to freedom for myself and Theo and have a future with Luc. But I’ve just found this life and have only just learned to love it. I am not ready to go.

“Aerialists—trapeze!” someone calls. I step into the big top, looking for Astrid. I do not see her and I wonder if she is so angry that she will refuse to perform with me. But a moment later she appears from the opposite side of the tent and starts toward the ring, jaw clenched. I hesitate. How can we perform as a team when she is furious with me? The audience waits in the darkness, though, expecting and unaware. There is no other choice.

I climb the ladder opposite Astrid and grab the bar. “Hup!” she calls, voice seething. I fly through the air toward her. As I release, I see it, the rage—no, the hurt and betrayal—in her eyes. Her hands do not reach for mine. She wants to miss, to fail me as I had her. Falling here would not be as it had been when we were in the winter quarters, or even the previous village. The net has been poorly erected and the ground below is rock hard. If I fall here, I will die. I close my eyes as I start to plunge downward, away from her.

Then something grabs my ankles hard. Astrid, saving me against her own will. But she is a beat too late and has grabbed the thin part of my instep rather than my ankle, making it impossible for her to hang on. I am slipping through her fingers. Desperately Astrid flings me in the direction of the bar for the return, with none of her usual precision. She throws me so hard that I somersault through the air. The audience cheers, mistaking near miss for a daring new feat.

My arms find the bar. I swing back to the board and clamber up clumsily. As I straighten, I want to end the act there. This has already gone too far. But Astrid waits on the opposite platform, commanding me to finish what we have started. “Hup!”

Before I can answer, there is a boom, followed by rumbling and a louder thud. We exchange nervous glances, the anger between us forgotten for a moment. Air raids are nothing new; they have come since the start of the war, first by the Germans to weaken countries they wanted to occupy and more recently by the Allies on German territories. They come in crude bold strokes, not caring who might be in the way. Since our return to Alsace they have come almost daily. But this is the first time it has happened during the show. The tent has to be the biggest building outside town—might it make a good target from the air?

There comes another rumbling, closer this time. A few guests flee their seats for the exits as sawdust and plaster shake from the tent poles like snow. The big top offers no protection at all. Perhaps we should end the show and have everyone return home. My eyes lock with Astrid’s. Keep performing, her gaze commands. We can’t afford to start giving out the refunds that the crowds would surely demand if we canceled the rest of the show. My hands shake as I reach for the bar and another explosion threatens to send me falling. But I clasp on tighter. One more pass is all that stands between me and freedom. “Hup!” I fly through the air and Astrid catches me, then sends me back for a final time.