The Orphan's Tale(91)

Then it is over and the audience offers a smattering of applause. Time to go—at last. I make my way from the big top and cross the backyard to the cabin where Theo and Elsie, who is supposed to be watching him, both sleep. I change into street clothes before picking up the bag that Astrid had packed. I lift Theo, who stirs and watches me with drowsy eyes, onto my other hip. “Time to go,” I whisper to him before starting from the cabin.

As I cross the backyard, I spot Astrid once more. She waves me over. For a fleeting second, I hope that our performing together might have softened her anger. But as I near, her eyes still burn. She snatches Theo from me. “This I shall miss,” she says, clutching him to her breast.

“Astrid...” I search for the words to make things better between us, but find none.

“Just go,” she commands as she passes Theo back to me. He gives a single cry of protest. “At least I will never have to see you again.” Her words are like a knife, and as she turns and walks away I know there will be no more goodbyes.

I start after her. I can’t bear to go with Astrid furious at me. But there is no choice. I told Luc I would meet him at nine o’clock, just fifteen minutes from now. I have to find him.

From the tent comes the boom of the music. Emmet’s voice warbles over the loudspeaker, so far short of what his father’s had been. I look back with gratitude. The circus has been my haven—my safety and my home, in a way I had never expected. Even now, when it is broken and near the end, the circus is the truest family I know. Once I leave, what hope is there of ever feeling this way again?

Then I square my shoulders as I start away with Theo. What will he remember of all this? I force myself not to linger as I pass the train cars. I run low so as not to be seen, taking care not to jostle Theo too hard. Faster, I hear Astrid urge in my mind as I pick up speed, heading east in the direction Luc had said. I wish for the shelter of trees, but the earth here is barren and exposed. Someone might see us at any moment, ask why I am fleeing. I will myself to slow, walk normally as I struggle to catch my breath.

As I start toward the quarry and the laughter and applause of the crowd fade behind me, my doubts about leaving bubble once more. How can we possibly survive, the two of us with a child and nothing more? I push my misgivings aside. I want to go with Luc. I see the image of a life together that he promised. Despite my fears, there would be two of us, united in our struggle for our survival and Theo’s. Without him, I would be alone—again.

We are well away from the circus now and the earth grows rocky, slopes sharply downward. I clutch Theo tightly, navigating the steep slope. The path I’ve followed ends at what appears to be a pit of roughly cut stone. Luc said he would be there at intermission, waiting for me.

But the quarry is empty.

It is early, I tell myself, pushing down my unease. I search the brush that shoots out between the rocks at the far end of the quarry, wondering if he is hiding. The branches remain motionless, though, the air still.

Five minutes pass, then ten. Luc is still not here. A list of excuses runs through my mind: he got lost, he had to double back to make sure he wasn’t followed. Maybe he had become ill. Theo, tired or perhaps hungry, begins to fuss. “Shh,” I soothe, fishing in my pocket for a piece of cracker I’d left there earlier. “Just a little longer.”

I look over the edge of the quarry pit, across the flat, empty field. Dread forms and sinks heavy in my stomach. Luc is not coming.

How is this happening? Our plans were certain. Panic fills me. Maybe something had happened to Luc. I see his face just hours earlier. He had asked, no begged, me to go with him—and he had seemed so happy when I said yes. Had he changed his mind and decided that having me and Theo along was too much? Or maybe Astrid had been right all along. I stand still in the cold, dark quarry, tears stinging at my eyes—foolish and abandoned yet again.

Something brushes my cheek then. Theo is looking up at me, his soft fingers reaching out to me as they had in the woods the night I had taken him from the boxcar. Bits of that night come back in flashes: a small fist clenched stiffly, never to be opened again, arms reaching for a mother no longer there. Images I cannot bear to keep in the light of day. A sob tears through me. I had not cried when my father held open the door and forced me out into the cold with nothing more than my purse. Nor when I’d seen the railcar of stolen infants, dead and dying. Now the tears race forth and I am grieving for all of it. I press my hands to my eyes, willing the visions to stop. It is hopeless—I will carry that night at the train car with me forever. Saving Theo had been not just for him—it had been my chance at redemption.

Maybe it still is. I see Astrid standing before me, holding out a ticket to freedom. She is so angry that I don’t know if she would give it to me now. And there is some part of me that does not want to take the pass, her only chance at survival. But I owe it to Theo to try.

I look up at the sky. You are never going back, Astrid said once. She is right. I can no more count on Luc than on my family for salvation. Instead, I will get us to a place where Theo will be safe, and a day at the circus would not be taken from him just because he is a Jew, where people would not stare at him oddly. It isn’t Luc, or even my parents I am looking for anymore. It is a home of my own.

I peer over my shoulder in the direction of the big top. If I go back now and join the final bow, no one but Astrid will realize that I have gone. I can ask her for the pass after the show. I shift Theo to my other hip. He cries openly now, his wails cutting through the darkness as I navigate the steep slope out of the quarry.