That night, as they watched the show, Martin and Cole were in high spirits.
“Did you see the little weasel’s face?” Martin said, laughing.
Cole snorted but said nothing.
“Shot you a look that could kill. God help us if he ever gets his greedy hands on the F-F.”
Cole hardly heard Martin. He was busy noting Anna Simpson’s rapt attention to the Ursari act, Salvo in particular. He knew she had been to the matinee and that this was the third consecutive show she had attended. From the way she looked at Salvo, he could tell why she was there. Cole was grateful that the vote had already happened; Arthur Simpson would more than likely not have thrown his support to Cole if he had known that his daughter was swooning over one of his performers. Even so, he could sense trouble brewing.
His feelings proved correct. When the circus pulled out of Washington late the next night, after a third sold-out evening performance, Anna Simpson was aboard the Ursaris’ sleeping car. Cole received a furious call from Arthur Simpson the next day, but there was little he could tell him that was of any relief to the man. Both Salvo and Anna were adults, after all, and Cole knew from experience that when a person decided to run away with the circus there was nothing anyone else could do.
Salvo could not believe what Anna had done. That he was in love with her was no surprise, but that she could love him back baffled and amazed him. When her father threatened to disinherit her, he told her she should go back. She refused, saying she would only leave if he didn’t love her, and he could not tell her that, so she stayed. It was hard for them at first; the circus was not a place that afforded young lovers much privacy, and it seemed that András or Margit or Etel were always around, which they were. But they managed somehow, and nine months after they were married in the ring, Anna gave birth to identical-twin daughters. For a long time after that, Salvo would sleep soundly.
By the time the 1945 edition of the F-F Extravaganza pulled into Boise, Idaho, it was already dark. It was the middle of summer, and though the sun had been down for hours it was still hot enough that windows of houses were left open in hopes of catching some of the faint breeze that blew listlessly across the empty streets. The big top went up quickly and relatively silently; everyone was tired and wanted to get to sleep. Corners were cut where they could be, and no time was wasted. Even the elephants, who always seemed tired, appeared more languid than usual. It had been a long, hot tour, and the summer was nowhere near over.
Forecasters had predicted rain for the last week of July, but it was already the third of August and no rain had fallen. It didn’t look as if any was on its way, either. No one much minded; it was summer, after all, and things were good. The war was all but won, people had jobs, loved ones overseas would be home soon. And the Fisher-Fielding circus was in town.
As performers, the Ursaris were not required to help with the set-up of the big top, but with the shortage of labour that the war had brought, Salvo and András preferred to do their own rigging rather than trust it to someone who might not know what they were doing and make what could be a costly mistake.
Anna stayed in the railcar with their daughters, Mika and Elsabeth. They were two and a half years old now, and though each had her light skin, auburn hair and small mouth, Anna saw more of Salvo than herself in her children. They looked back at her with green Ursari eyes, eyes that could melt and infuriate her in the same instant. It secretly pleased Anna that she was the only one who could tell them apart without any effort whatsoever, though she knew it bothered Salvo that he could not. Fathers and daughters, she thought, shaking her head.
The fact that she and Salvo had been formally married meant little to her father. She knew how it infuriated him to see his only daughter run away with an immigrant circus performer, turning her back on the life he thought should have been hers. Arthur Simpson had forbidden her half-brothers to have any contact with her upon pain of disinheritance, a punishment she had already suffered. Her brothers were not pleased, but there was little they could do; Arthur controlled their money, and thus controlled them. When her middle brother’s RCAF fighter plane had a mechanical failure and spun into the Atlantic, Anna’s eldest brother had defied their father and telegraphed her the news. Anna had refused to attend the funeral in Ottawa, seeing for the first time how she was not unlike her father.
After this estrangement she began to wonder if she hadn’t made a terrible mistake. She could not deny that she loved Salvo, or their children, but she also knew that she did not love the circus. She tried to push these thoughts to the back of her mind, attempting to focus on other things.
Gradually, Salvo had taught her the wire. She had hesitated at first, not sure if she wanted to learn or not. She had eventually capitulated to Salvo’s eagerness and her own curiosity. There was not much opportunity for Salvo to teach her, however; most of their time was taken up with the show and the girls. But what little time that remained was spent on the wire.
GREEN EYES SEEMED TO INDEED BE a dominant Ursari trait. Though they had not married, Margit had become pregnant and, in the final year of the war, gave birth to a child, János. No one had to ask who the father was, and the boy bore the Ursari name with no shame. As far as András and Margit were concerned, they were married. Neither was very religious, and they saw no reason to engage in the bother of a civil ceremony.
It was Etel who picked up whatever slack needed reigning in between the two couples and their children. She dealt with the children quietly and efficiently, never missing a beat, never making a mistake. Margit often complained that János smelled horribly of smoke after spending any amount of time with his aunt. Though it also bothered Anna, she never said as much out loud. She tried not to be dragged into Margit’s jealousy. It took her a long time to understand how a person could be jealous of a sister-in-law, yet there was something about Etel that Anna could never quite get comfortable with. She had a silent, severe way about her that made Anna wary. When Etel did speak, her words were often harsh, and usually correct.
Since the Pearl Harbor attack, the government had restricted the number of people the circus was allowed to employ, and the labour shortage had driven wages through the roof. Where before the war the F-F employed over fifteen hundred men and women and drew trains of 130 cars, they now employed barely nine hundred people and drew eighty-five cars.
Because of their late arrival and the extra work necessary to erect the big top, both András and Salvo were exhausted for the next day’s matinee. They spent the hours before showtime attempting to sleep, but the bustle and noise of the circus proved too much, and they emerged from the railcar bleary-eyed and irritable.
It was going to be another hot day. The lot they were playing in was smaller than usual, size having been sacrificed for proximity to rail lines. The big top stood in the back of the lot, enclosed by woods on three sides. On the street side of the main tent was the midway and the sideshow tents, as well as various hot-dog and soda tents. The red wagons that sold tickets were parked in various strategic locations. Directly beside the big top was the animal menagerie, where beasts of all ilk resided.
For this season the F-F had mounted a modified three-ring circus. In the middle of the big top was a large ring, floored with sawdust, flanked on either side by stages raised three feet off the ground. Here the clowns and riders and various other earthbound acts performed. On the far ends of the performance area were two caged rings, where the dangerous-animal acts took place. These animals were brought in and out of the rings through two barred chutes that ran from each ring to the exterior of the tent. The elephants, camels and other more docile performing animals were brought in through the main entrance.
The matinee was a sell out, and many were turned away, told to come back for the evening show or the next day. It was stifling inside the big top, people everywhere fanning themselves with programs. To squinted eyes, the stands looked like the fluttering feathers of some giant bird. Some people bought Cokes or lemonade from the vend
ors, others smuggled in their own drinks. In the front of one of the bleacher sections, a group of nurses had bought a block of tickets and the women came fresh off their shift, white uniforms standing out amongst the crowd.
The show started late, there being some confusion between the general manager and the ringmaster regarding the order of the acts. Normally the cat act was near the end of the show, directly before the Ursaris went on, but their trainer had asked to have the act moved up, claiming that the heat made it difficult for him to get his cats to respond. As a result the cat act and the elephant ballet were switched, much to Salvo’s consternation. He avoided the elephants as much as possible and usually didn’t have to see them while in the big top, but now there would be no way to miss them. He hated the elephant ballet. It was ridiculous, he thought. Elephants in giant tutus were paraded around the ring, appearing to dance, when in fact it was the band who was playing to the elephants’ movements. People didn’t seem to mind; the elephant ballet was one of the more popular acts in the F-F show that year. Salvo could not understand why Emil would allow his beloved elephants to be presented so foolishly.
The Ursari troupe climbed to the platform as the ballet started, and Salvo tried to ignore both his fatigue and the elephants below, wishing hard to be on the wire soon. Salvo was the first to the top, followed by András and Margit. Anna was next, though she would not be going on the wire today. She was not ready to perform in public, and Salvo felt she would learn more on the platform than she would on the ground. Besides, her hands were needed to help with harnesses and bicycles and balancing poles. The girls and János were on the ground, being looked after by one of the other performer’s wives. Though it took him to a moment to figure out what was wrong, Salvo realized that Etel was not on the platform.
“Where’s Etel?’ he asked András.
He shrugged, looking down the ladder. “There’s a little time. Maybe she had to use the toilet.”
Afraid that she would not make it back in time, Salvo began revamping the act in his head. He dismissed his efforts moments later; as the elephant ballet ended, he spotted Etel beginning the climb to the platform. He picked up his balancing pole and waited for the band to play him onto the wire.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glint, a streak of light, but he had by then achieved the rapt concentration needed for walking and paid it no heed. As he stepped onto the wire he heard a commotion from the far end of the tent, and behind him he heard András shout to him.
“Come back, Salvo. The big top is on fire.”
Salvo turned his head and saw a line of fire shoot across the canvas, travelling fast. He pivoted around and leapt back onto the platform.
“My God,” Anna said. “This can’t be happening.”
Below, the audience seemed stunned. People sat in their seats, as if refusing to believe that they were in danger. A few got up and ran to the exits, mainly those in the direct vicinity of the fire, but most people stayed where they were, as though they expected the fire to be put out and the show to continue.
The fire spread with a terrifying speed. What the crowd did not know was that the canvas of the big top was waterproofed with a mixture of gasoline and paraffin. It kept the rain out, but it burned fast and hot.
Etel was the first down the ladder, followed by Margit, András and then Anna. Salvo was last, having debated whether to try and save one of the bicycles. He too had underestimated the fire’s speed. Once on the ground he looked up and saw flames on the portion of canvas directly above the wire. He felt as though standing in front of an oven door.
The fire had started on the side wall of the tent, an area not waterproofed. It had been slow to spread, and several ushers had attempted without success to beat it out. In their haste to finish the job the night before, no one had set out the fire extinguishers. Once the ushers realized that the fire could not be subdued, they set about pulling down the side wall so that the fire would not spread to the rest of the big top. They were not quick enough. A small spark of flame had ignited the treated canvas and all was lost.
It took precious minutes for people to realize that the big top was burning. All at once they swarmed towards the exits, finding them clogged with like-minded individuals. Panic ensued. Salvo saw one man fighting his way through the crowd, punching men and women and children indiscriminately until he lost his footing and went down under the throng. Some people, knowing they were trapped and unable to go forward, instead went up the bleachers and jumped the fifteen feet down to the ground, only to find their escape thwarted. The bottom of the tent was staked firmly into the ground to prevent people from sneaking in. No one had ever considered people getting out. Those who had pocket knives sliced slits in the tent. This worked for some, but not all; in certain sections the side walls were supported by a grid of iron rails that were nearly impossible to squeeze through.
The ringmaster pleaded over the PA for people to leave their seats in an orderly fashion, but if anyone heard him no one heeded his words. The band didn’t move and had begun to play “The Stars and Stripes,” a circus code for disaster.
Cole Fisher-Fielding had not been under the big top when the fire started. He was out at the red wagons checking on the day’s receipts when the alarm was raised. Once he realized the big top was on fire, he ordered the side walls torn down. Workers rushed to comply but were prevented by the crowd. The pressure of people against the rails made it impossible to lower them, and the people in front were being crushed by those behind. In a few places they finally succeeded, but it was not enough.
Salvo held Anna tightly by the arm. He knew that if he let go of her they would be separated by the crowd, and if one of them fell they would be trampled. He did not know where Etel and Margit and András were. He had lost sight of them as soon as they reached the ground.
It was obvious to Salvo that there was no way to get out of any of the main exits. To even attempt it was out of the question. Directly in front of them, people were being ground into the bars of the animal chute. The noise was deafening, and he could feel the full heat of the fire. He looked at Anna and saw that the exposed skin on her neck had blistered.
They forced their way through the throng to one of the steel rings and climbed up the bars. A few people saw what his idea was, and some of them followed him. They made their way towards the chute, intending to crawl along its roof and out of the tent. Salvo hoped that there were no cats in the chute.
They reached the chute, and pushing Anna ahead of him, Salvo looked towards the exit. It was mayhem; people were screaming, pushing, shouting, and the roof of the big top was nearly completely engulfed in flame. The big top had become a furnace, sucking cool air in the sides of the tent and up to the roof, where it became superheated.
András had pulled Margit and Etel in the opposite direction. He briefly considered scaling the other animal chute, but the fire had burned hotter there and the bars were too hot to touch. He opted instead to try for one of the exits near where the fire had started. When people had seen the fire, they had instinctively gone in the opposite direction, which was partly why they were being crushed over where Salvo was, but this impulse afforded András, Margit and Etel a greater chance of escape. If they could run the gauntlet of the flames, they would be able to pass through the exit relatively easily.
They ran as fast as they could, first Etel, then Margit, then András. When they were halfway to the exit, one of the sections of bleachers collapsed, sending chairs raining down on them. András was knocked to the ground, and when he got up he saw Etel lying in front of him, unconscious. He picked her up and continued towards the exit. He did not know that his shirt was on fire, and he could not see Margit.
Outside, Cole Fisher-Fielding could tell that the big top was about to come down. The canvas itself had not burned through yet, the fire still feeding on the flammable waterproofing. Once the support rigging that held the canvas aloft burned, the canvas would fall as a sheet of fire. Then Cole heard someone shout th
at the fire had spread to the menagerie. The animals were trapped. He knew the trainers would rush to the menagerie right away, but he himself did not budge from his task of trying to help people through the side walls. People came before animals.
Inside, the fire had spread to the ground. The chairs and seat wagons, thick with years of coats of paint, ignited quickly and burned hot. Salvo and Anna were nearly out, three-quarters of the way down the chute. Its barred roof was seven feet off the ground, and they scuttled across it as though climbing a horizontal ladder. The cries of those pressed against the bars of the chute were drowned out by the roar of the fire and the commotion of the crowd. Salvo wanted to help those trapped, but there was nothing he could do. If he tried to pull them up onto the roof, he himself could be pulled down.
A hand grabbed his foot, he shook it free. Then, suddenly, a child’s face was in front of him. He looked down to see a young woman, trapped against the bars, holding the child up to him. Without thinking he took the child, a boy, maybe five years old. There was nothing he could do for the mother. He continued, close behind Anna. He was slowed by the boy, losing the use of one hand, and Anna got further ahead of him, and then she reached the end of the chute. Here the canvas was secured to the metal of the chute with rope-ties. Anna loosened the knots and squeezed under the canvas to freedom. Salvo was seconds behind her. Holding the boy like a sack of potatoes he breached the tent and fell to the ground.
He got up and ran away from the tent, catching up to Anna. He collapsed to the ground beside her and looked back, just as the fiery canvas descended upon those still inside. The boy in his arms was crying. The menagerie must be on fire also, he thought, mistaking the screams of humans for the trumpeting of elephants.
András had emerged from the tent, moments earlier, and he quickly saw that Margit had not made it. He carried Etel to safety and, finally realizing that his shirt was on fire, dropped to the ground and rolled, tearing the shirt from his body. He smelled burning flesh, unsure if it was his own. People ran by, some trailing flames, others untouched by the fire. Ten feet from him a man lay unconscious, smouldering.