András struggled to his feet, summoning strength to go back into the tent. He suspected that Margit had been felled when the chairs toppled on them, and that she could be lying just inside, maybe under a chair. People were streaming out of the exit, and as he attempted to go in someone bumped into him, sending him flying. When he got up he saw Margit being helped out by a man in a sailor suit. He ran up to her, helping the sailor lift her to a safe distance.
“I called to you,” she said, “and you ran past me.” She passed out, her ankle jutting to one side, broken.
Cole Fisher-Fielding was still trying to get more people out when the big top had collapsed. A shroud of flame descended on those still inside, intensifying and then silencing the cries of the trapped. It had been only twelve minutes since the fire had started, and it was all over. A singed giraffe ran by him, falling down awkwardly. Cole ran over to the menagerie, hoping something of use could be done there.
Most of the animals were still locked in their cages. Elephants, zebras, camels, lions, panthers, giraffes, gnus, deer, ostriches, horses, apes—they were all still inside. The elephants that were in the ballet had been saved, and the giraffe Cole had seen had somehow managed to jump out of its enclosure, but the rest were trapped. Handlers worked furiously to get the animals out. Some of the elephants obeyed their trainers and went through the flames, but many of the other animals refused to be moved, stubbornly afraid. One old elephant, startled and disoriented, ripped the arm off a man who was trying to lead it to safety. The beast remained in the elephant pen, its trunk wrapped around the dismembered limb, and not even Emil Narwha could convince it to come out. Several of the dangerous cats were pulled to safety, their cages mounted on wheels and easily rolled free of the fire. A pygmy hippopotamus knew enough to submerge itself in its pool, and if the water didn’t boil, Cole thought, she would probably survive.
Cole and the animal handlers worked as fast and as long as they could. When scraps of canvas began to fall, igniting the straw on the ground, he ordered everyone out of the menagerie. One man who worked with the apes wept without shame as his animals burned. Emil Narwha had to be forcibly restrained to prevent him from going back in after his remaining elephants, but he broke free of his captors and bolted into the tent. He never came out.
Anna Ursari’s first thought after escaping the big top was for Mika and Elsabeth. She was so concerned for their safety that it was a long time before she even noticed that Salvo carried a wailing boy in his arms, and even then she didn’t pay this much heed until they had located the girls, safe in the care of their circus guardian.
When fire crews arrived there was little they could do to save anyone. Later they began the grim task of recovering bodies. This fire was not like a normal fire. Usually, people died of smoke inhalation. Here, they were roasted alive. More than one veteran firefighter could be seen retching at the edge of the woods. It was even worse in the makeshift morgue; people attempting to identify the bodies of loved ones were forced to hold perfumed handkerchiefs to their faces.
In total, 112 people and fifty animals died. The sound of gunfire could be heard from the area where the animals had been moved. Salvo saw one elephant, its skin half peeled from its flanks, being led in the direction of the shots, and several minutes later he heard three successive blasts of a rifle. He felt sorry for the creature and would never again look at an elephant with hatred in his heart. Salvo did not yet know that his friend Emil was dead. When he found out hours later, he would collapse to the ground, his hands beating futilely at the trampled earth.
András and Etel were at a ramshackle infirmary, receiving treatment for their wounds. Margit had been taken to the hospital to have her ankle set, and would undoubtedly wait there for quite a while, as her injury was not life-threatening. Etel had a large bruise on her head, and she, András and Anna all had minor burns and blisters. Salvo was the only one of them who had managed to escape unscathed; not a hair on his body was harmed.
The same was true of their rescued boy. After seeing that the others were being attended to, Salvo took the boy around to the various aid stations and meeting places that had sprung up. He hoped he would be able to find someone who knew the boy’s family. He had little hope of finding his mother. Already they had begun to bring bodies out of the area where the chute had been.
The boy could be of little help. Aside from his name, which was Daniel, he didn’t or couldn’t say much. He didn’t appear to know the names of either of his parents, or his last name, or where he lived. Salvo supposed the boy was in shock and assumed that he would remember this information later. Either way, he was unsuccessful in locating anyone who knew the child, and he didn’t want to take him to the police. He had saved this child, and it was his responsibility to see that he ended up in the proper place. Where that was, he wasn’t sure, but he didn’t trust the police here any more than he had in Budapest, and he wasn’t about to just hand the boy over. This was, however, exactly what Anna thought they should do.
“He is not our child,” she said, when he returned.
“What would you have me do?”
“He must have parents.”
Salvo looked at Daniel, who was fast asleep on the floor. “I think they are not alive.”
Anna swallowed. “He is not our responsibility.”
Salvo nodded, but they both knew that he was.
Elsewhere, Cole Fisher-Fielding was attempting to ascertain the extent of the disaster. He did not yet know exactly how many people had been killed or injured, but he knew that there had been nearly ten thousand people under the big top that afternoon, and he knew that a significant number of them hadn’t got out. So far, he hadn’t heard whether anyone from the circus had been killed in addition to Emil Narwha. Not everyone was yet accounted for, but many were, a consolation that did little to alleviate his worry. He knew that there would be tough questions in the days ahead, and that things were going to get worse before they got better. He also knew this was very likely the end of the Fisher-Fielding Circus Company.
THE F-F WAS IMPOUNDED—neither performer nor equipment nor animal permitted to leave town. After extensive interviewing and an exhaustive investigation, the cause of the fire was still unknown. Arson was suspected, and the women’s toilet area was assumed to be the starting point, but investigators had no solid evidence and no suspects. Soon their questioning turned to those who ran the show. Where were the fire extinguishers? Why weren’t there sufficient exits? Most importantly, why had the big top burned so quickly?
When they learned that there had been no extinguishers, the men whose responsibility it was to set them out were arrested on charges of criminal negligence. When they learned that the canvas of the big top had been waterproofed with paraffin and gasoline, they arrested Cole Fisher-Fielding on the same charge. He protested; the F-F had applied to the army for permission to use non-flammable waterproofing and had been refused. Materials were in short supply, and military needs took precedence over the circus.
The Ursaris could not believe what was happening.
“I do not understand,” András said, “how these Americans can drop bombs like that on Japan and hold no one responsible, but for this accident they will put an old man in jail.”
“It is as always,” Salvo answered. “People want someone to blame.”
“Cole Fisher-Fielding did not start the fire,” Anna said.
“People are angry,” Salvo said. “Their anger will lessen, and they will let Mr. Fisher-Fielding go.”
Etel looked up from her seat on the floor of the railcar. “It burned so fast.”
No one spoke. After a while Anna picked up Mika and Elsabeth and left for the cookhouse. Salvo and Daniel stayed behind for a bit, then followed.
Etel stayed in her place on the floor, saying nothing. No one had yet noticed that she hadn’t smoked a single cigarette since the fire. András was lost in his own thoughts, János asleep on the bed.
When Anna and Salvo returned to the railcar,
Margit was back from the hospital. She had been there a week with her broken ankle. She was packing her suitcase, hastily throwing her meagre belongings into it.
“Margit, be reasonable,” András implored.
“There is no reason to you. You left me to die. I want no part of you any more.”
“I did not know you had fallen.” András tried to place a hand on her arm, but she pulled it away.
“You never looked to see. I watched you. You fall, get up, look only for Etel, run right by me.”
“I didn’t see you.”
“I called out. I screamed loud as loud can be. You did not turn.”
“I didn’t hear you.”
“No, you did not want to see or hear me. You made your choice, András. You left me to die. You are dead to me.” She threw her suitcase out the door and hobbled past him.
“Margit—” Salvo began.
“I will go with you no more, Salvo Ursari. Thank you for all you have done for me in the past, but I go with you no more.”
“What about János?” Anna said. “He is your son.”
Margit looked at the boy, appearing as though she might soften or even break her resolve. Then her face hardened. “Very little of him has anything to do with me. He is his father’s son. Let him bear this.” She continued out the door.
“Go after her, András,” Anna said.
András did not move.
“András?” Salvo said.
“Yes.”
“She is leaving.”
“Yes.” András’s voice broke.
“Aren’t you going to go after her?” Anna asked.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because she is right.” András turned to face the wall. “I did not see her. But if I had, I would have done what she accuses me of.” He would not look at them. His shoulders shook, but he made no sound. Salvo and Anna backed out of the railcar, children in tow.
They went to a shady section of grass and let the four children play. Salvo sat leaning against a tree, and Anna rested her weight on his side, her head on his shoulder.
“If I went, would you come after me?” she asked.
Mika laughed as Daniel threw a handful of grass into the air. Elsabeth was sniffing the earth like a dog, and János the baby lay on his back staring up at the sky, gurgling contentedly.
“You would never go,” Salvo answered, finally.
“No,” she said, “I wouldn’t.”
They learned the next day that Margit had gone to Los Angeles with one of the vendors. They were both charged with obstruction of justice, as performers were under orders not to leave town, but the charges were eventually dropped.
TWO MONTHS AFTER THE FIRE, the trial of Cole Fisher-Fielding began. Three others, the men whose responsibility it had been to set out the fire extinguishers, had already been found guilty, receiving jail sentences ranging from six months to two years. It seemed certain that Cole would be acquitted; he had papers proving that his request for the non-flammable waterproofing had been refused, as well as a certificate of inspection from the city’s permit office. He had broken no laws, his lawyers asserted, and therefore was guilty of no crime.
It had taken a month for officials to complete their investigation, at which time the F-F was permitted to leave town. Some people wanted to disband to winter quarters, to lay up the show, but Cole knew that if this happened, the chances of it ever starting up again were slim to none. It would be difficult to keep going; they had no big top to play under, and many of the acts had lost some if not all of their equipment. The reputation of the F-F was severely tarnished, and the only way to repair it was to show people something good.
Cole called in every outstanding favour owed him, made some promises of his own and managed to scrounge up enough gear to keep the show touring. There was no time to get a new big top made, and even if there was, there would still be no adequate way to waterproof it, so Cole booked the F-F into arenas and halls in a much-scaled-down version. The important thing was that the show stay on the road. He only wished he could accompany it. He left his nephew Martin in charge, instructing him to watch out for Norris. If the Spouses could, they would use the tragedy as an excuse to seize control of the circus.
The first two days of his trial went well. There was no real evidence against him, and it was fairly clear to those in the room that some scapegoating was taking place. On the third day, however, things took a turn for the worse.
Added at the last minute as a witness for the prosecution was Norris Fisher-Fielding. Reporters scribbled furiously, and people whispered to each other. Cole’s lawyers looked at each other, puzzled.
Norris took the stand calmly. When he spoke his voice was soft, and for the majority of his testimony he came across as a reluctant witness, offering nothing incriminating against Cole, let alone damning.
The prosecuting lawyer chose that moment to make it clear why he had called Norris.
“Mr. Fisher-Fielding, let me ask you this. To the best of your knowledge, had the Fisher-Fielding Circus Company made any inquiries with any private companies concerning the availability of non-flammable waterproofing?”
Norris swallowed, appearing nervous, and mumbled, “Yes.”
“Could you speak up, sir?”
“Yes.”
“And what was the result of this inquiry?”
“It was determined that it would be possible to purchase this waterproofing from a private interest.”
“And was this done?”
“No.”
“Why is that?”
“It was determined to be too expensive.”
Cole’s lawyers scrambled, demanding that Norris provide proof of this statement, which he could not, but the damage was done. Closing arguments were made, and the jury went into deliberations. The trial was over.
Free on bail, Cole returned to his hotel. He was freezing cold but sweating profusely, and had been experiencing a shooting pain in his arm all day. As he climbed the stairs to his room, he keeled over, clutching at his chest.
He was rushed to the hospital in one of the ambulances that had removed the injured from the circus lot. Doctors worked frantically to save him, and though he was twice pronounced dead, he managed to survive. He had suffered a massive heart attack and would be in the hospital for some time.
The next day the jury delivered a guilty verdict. Cole was sentenced to three years’ imprisonment. Because of his health the sentence was commuted, but nonetheless Cole was now a convicted felon. He knew that his days of running the F-F were over; the Respectables would never vote him in again.
He was correct. An emergency vote was held, and Norris was elected interim president of the Fisher-Fielding Circus Company. When Martin told him the outcome, Cole wept openly. Three weeks later he died.
The Fisher-Fielding Extravaganza was playing in Sacramento when they received the news. Norris refused to allow the flags to be lowered to half mast, and forbade the ringmaster to announce his uncle’s passing. He could not silence the performers, however. The Ursaris performed in black and carried an empty chair across the wire. The band played Cole’s favourite songs. The whole circus came to a halt for an entire three minutes, paying silent tribute to the passing of the last of the original Fisher-Fieldings and the last great showman of the American circus. Then the show went on.
IT BECAME CLEAR TO ANNA that if Daniel had any memory of his life before the fire, it was not going to resurface any time soon. Beyond his own name, the boy seemed to have little awareness of anything. He was a good-natured child, kind to Elsabeth and Mika, who had taken to him immediately. It was not that Anna did not like this boy; she simply didn’t feel that he belonged with them.
“He isn’t our child,” she said, many times.
“Whose child is he?” Salvo answered.
“That’s not the point. Someone might be looking for him.”
“No one is looking. His picture was in the paper. No one came forward.”
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“We aren’t responsible for him.”
“I took him from his mother’s arms. I am responsible.”
“We cannot keep him.”
This was how this discussion ended every time they had it. But they never gave him away. Anna knew Salvo would never agree to it, and Salvo knew she would never do it without his agreement. Anna pronounced judgment knowing nothing would come of it. Daniel was soon as much a member of their family as anyone.
An orphan in the circus was never an orphan. Children ran in packs like dogs, toddlers were herded like sheep. So it was with János; when Margit left, János was not allowed to suffer his mother’s absence. Etel picked up the majority of the maternal duties, but while the troupe performed, the children were in capable hands. The Fisher-Fielding Extravaganza could be a lonely place for adults, but it was never such for children.
If Norris Fisher-Fielding could have found a way to keep the performers’ children at home, he would have done so. He felt that there was no place for children in the circus, a view seen as antithetical and tyrannical by most, if not all, of the F-F staff. In addition to this affront, Norris set about removing many of Cole’s signature acts, a seeming attempt to erase his nemesis’s mark upon the show.
One of the first acts to get the axe was the elephant ballet. Though Salvo had never liked it, he was sorry to see it go, knowing that the people who came to the show had enjoyed it, and having reversed his position on the loathsomeness of elephants in general. He had seen them in pain during the fire, just as people had been, and somehow their mutual pain had made them less threatening. He missed his friend Emil Narwha, who was perhaps the only real friend he had ever had, and so did the elephants. Their grief was shared. Even Salvo could tell.