Salvo looked at János, who had tears streaming down his face, and he knew that András spoke correctly. Still, the boy was one of the most gifted walkers Salvo had ever seen, and he did not like the thought of him quitting. “All right,” he said. “Why don’t you take a break, sit out a couple of days, and then see how you feel.”
János nodded. “Okay. But I don’t think this will get better.”
Salvo smiled. “Wait and see. Maybe you’ll surprise yourself.”
András and Salvo moved out of János’s earshot. “He’s lost it completely,” András said.
“He should sit out. But he should not make any final decisions. He can assist on the platform for now.”
András looked back at János. “I do not think he will change his mind.”
“Maybe not. But you can never tell. Jacob can work his spot, and if he wants to come back, there will be a place for him.”
András nodded. But he knew János would not be back.
ELSABETH AND MIKA SAT ON A BENCH in the performers’ area. Mika slumped, dangling her arms, stretching them out. Elsabeth slowly rotated a sore wrist, watching her sister out of the corner of her eye. She wished that Mika had waited until the winter break to tell their father about her engagement. The wire was hard enough without having people mad at each other, and it was stressful for everyone to have disagreements going on while they lived in such close quarters. If only everyone could get along, things would go smoothly and easily. How much happier we all would be, she thought.
Elsabeth was bored. She was bored with her entire life, bored of herself. She had no idea what to do about it, and hadn’t told anyone else of her feelings, not even Mika. She knew most people would laugh at her; how could her life be boring? She travelled across the continent with the circus, performed death-defying feats and was famous. What could be boring about that? she wondered. And yet it was.
She had never really had a friend, she supposed. Mika was a friend, but she was her twin sister so it was different, and other than that there were only Daniel and János, who were kind enough and dear to her, but they were relatives too, not friends. Being a Ursari had isolated her from other people her age, and it wore her down. Elsabeth was always tired, even when she slept for hours and hours, and nothing could stop her from yawning all day long. She wondered whether she would ever wake up.
“I don’t understand why he has to be this way,” Mika said, snapping Elsabeth out of her thoughts.
“It’s just the way he is.”
“That’s not an excuse.”
Elsabeth shrugged. “What can you do?”
“Nice attitude,” Mika said. “This affects you too, you know—or one day it will. Unless you plan on marrying the president, or God, no one will be good enough.”
“I don’t see it coming up anytime soon. I don’t even know any men. Unless I marry Daniel or János.”
“I wonder if Dad would allow that.”
“Gross.”
The girls laughed at this conjecture. Then Mika’s face hardened and she clenched her teeth. “It isn’t funny. Sometimes I really hate him.”
Elsabeth said nothing. She didn’t hate their father, but she thought she might if she were Mika. Elsabeth had never experienced an emotion as strong as hate, and wondered what it was like. She was almost jealous of her sister, and it made her feel pathetic.
ETEL CLIMBED THE LADDER to the platform, the second last to do so. Salvo went first, as he always did, then Anna, the twins, Daniel and Jacob, András and finally Etel. Usually János went before András, and Jacob usually went last, but tonight János was going last because he would be the one to set up the gear for the House, and would not be going on the wire. Etel was sorry for her nephew, but she could not understand how the boy had lost his nerve so suddenly. Such comprehension was not within her.
Already on the platform, Salvo cast his thoughts back to his conversation with Jacob a quarter-hour earlier. He had first explained that János did not want to walk for a while, and that Jacob would be doing the House. Jacob did not normally do the House, but he knew it and had done it in practice many times, as well as having filled in when someone was sick. Salvo had confidence in him, not nearly as much as he had in János, but confidence nonetheless. Then, before he left, Salvo had extended his hand to Jacob, and told him that he would welcome him into the Ursari family as a son-in-law. Jacob had taken his hand and promised him that he would treat Mika well, and Salvo had believed him.
As Mika gained the platform she shot Salvo an angry look, and he knew that she had not yet spoken with Jacob. He smiled to himself, knowing she would feel ashamed when she found out, and he resolved not to tease her too badly. It would be a happy time later tonight, and he would break out a bottle of rye, maybe two. You are a lucky man, he said to himself. He looked down and saw that the juggling act that preceded them was nearly finished and began to mentally prepare himself.
He willed his mind blank and envisioned himself performing the act flawlessly, felt his muscles flow across the wire. He did this for several minutes, then he heard the band play the jugglers off, and it was time for the Ursaris to start.
Salvo stepped onto the wire, his balancing pole gripped firmly in his hands. He crossed the wire by himself, doing a handstand in the middle, wavering slightly to sell it. Then he returned to the platform, and András, Daniel and Mika went out. András and Daniel held a pole between them, and Mika braced it around her midsection and spun around it, once, twice, three times. The crowd liked this one, and showed their approval loudly. The Ursaris did the bicycle tricks, followed by Etel’s blindfolded solo walk. Then Salvo lay on his back in the middle of the wire, and Anna walked across, stepping on his stomach as she crossed over him. He winked up at her, and she smiled.
As Salvo reached the platform, he noticed Daniel had the strangest look on his face—he was white as a ghost—but he didn’t ask him what was the matter. It was time to build the House. He joined himself with Jacob, who had switched places with Etel, who usually walked directly behind Salvo. When they were harnessed together János passed them their balancing poles, and they stepped forward four feet onto the wire. Behind them, András joined himself with Daniel, the last one on the bottom row. Then Anna leapt onto the pole between Salvo and Jacob, and Etel between András and Daniel. János passed Etel and Anna a harness, which they placed over their shoulders. There were no straps in these harnesses; a U-shaped piece of metal went over each shoulder, and the pole joined a crosspiece at chest level, in the front or back depending on what the performer’s position was. Anna and Etel took their balancing poles, and Mika and Elsabeth mounted the pole between them. Salvo received a signal from János that all was ready. With a tilt of his head they started out.
Immediately János began the climb down the ladder to the ground, where he would rush to the other side of the stage and then climb back up to the far platform in time to help the others disassemble the House. This was normally Jacob’s job, and he was pretty good, but he usually only barely made it. Salvo wasn’t sure if János was as fast going up and down the ladder as Jacob.
He did not think about this prospect as he crossed the wire. He concentrated on timing his movements to the exact moment that the others would move; even though they followed his lead, he tried to anticipate their emulations. When they reached the centre of the wire he stopped, and he could tell by the crowd that Elsabeth and Mika were upside down. They held this longer than usual and Salvo wondered whether they weren’t buying János some time. When he saw that János was nearly halfway up the ladder he knew that the boy would make it, so he decided instead that Mika was probably making some kind of point. He heard a sigh from the crowd when the twins were down, and to make a point of his own, he delayed several seconds before starting forward again.
Salvo felt a slight tug at his harness, an indication that those behind him were not following. He stopped, but it was too late. The wire jolted underneath his feet and the House collapsed.
They were falling. Hands released balancing poles, reaching out—some finding reward and others not. Salvo fell straight onto the wire, wrapping his legs around it, ignoring the pain as his right leg bent beyond its normal capacity. Knowing what had happened, he blindly reached out and grabbed Anna as she fell past him, his grip poor at first, better once he had a chance to adjust it. Etel hung onto the wire beside him, leaning her waist over it, her left hand clutching the wire, her right reaching out to steady herself. Further back, András dangled by his fingertips; he was having a hard time holding on. Jacob was beside him, almost sitting, and he moved to help András better his grip. Below people were screaming hysterically, and Salvo wished they would be quiet. He looked down and only then did he see Daniel lying on his back, his body flailing wildly, like he was being electrocuted. Not far from him lay Mika and Elsabeth. Neither of them moved. Between them spread a puddle of what he knew could only be blood. Anna tried in vain to look down, but it was impossible for her to see them from where she was, and her efforts were compromising Salvo’s grip on her arm.
On the ground circus staff scrambled to erect a makeshift net for those still on the wire. By the time Anna and then András dropped into the net, medical staff had already strapped Daniel onto a gurney and taken him to the hospital. They did the same for Mika and Elsabeth, but there was less haste. Once Anna and András were safe, Jacob was able to make it to the platform on his own, as were Salvo and Etel. János was there waiting, his face bloodless and his hands shaking. They rushed down the ladder, Jacob running in the direction they had taken Mika, and Etel and János following Salvo to the net.
Salvo took Anna in his arms, holding her tightly before he allowed the paramedics to take them all to the hospital. Anna wept fiercely, knowing that Elsabeth and Mika were dead and that Daniel was near to it, if he wasn’t dead already. She did not have to tell Salvo that the world had fallen.
SALVO WAS THE ONLY ONE of them who was not injured. Anna’s shoulder had dislocated when Salvo caught her, and her knee was badly twisted. Jacob pulled both his hamstrings, and András had been hit in the head by Daniel’s pole, bruising him badly and giving him a concussion. Etel had internal bleeding, having hit the wire hard. Even János was hurt; he sprained his ankle going down the ladder.
Daniel’s injuries were the most serious. His spine was broken in three places, but miraculously he was not paralyzed. He had slipped into a coma, however, and it was unclear when or if he would regain consciousness. There were internal injuries as well, but the doctors were not sure exactly how serious they were.
In three days’ time there would be a funeral for Mika and Elsabeth.
THE DAY AFTER THE FALL, Salvo went to see Martin Fisher-Fielding. Martin was sombre, obviously shaken by what had happened. He felt partially responsible, having known how dangerous the act was and still letting them do it, because it was good and it sold tickets.
Salvo tried to reassure him. “It is not your fault. We would have done it in a different circus if you had said no.”
Martin bit his lip, knowing Salvo indeed would have. “What happened up there?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Someone made a mistake, I guess. I don’t know who.”
“I’m so sorry, Salvo.”
“I know.”
“If you ever want to come back, there will always be a place for you in the F-F.”
“Thank you. I think we will need some time off to recover. But I will walk tonight.”
Martin stopped short. “What?”
“I know it is a solo walk, and that it is not so good an act. But I want to walk tonight.”
“Salvo, I don’t think—”
“I would consider it a favour.”
Martin looked at Salvo and saw he was determined. He knew it was not a good idea, but he could not deny him. “All right. But be careful.”
“Thank you.” Salvo turned and left, not closing the door behind him. His mind was preoccupied and his heart heavy.
That night Salvo walked, and for the first time in his life, the world did not recede when he stepped onto the wire. He knew that this walk was different. He was not walking for himself, and he was not walking for the wire. Salvo walked for his girls; it was the only way he knew to honour them.
He used no pole and the band played no music. The audience watched silently, everyone aware of what had happened the night before, aware of what it must be costing this man to be on the wire. As he reached the spot where they had fallen, Salvo Ursari knelt, placing his hands on the wire. The audience did not know that in his mind Salvo was touching their eyelids, gently forcing them closed, a task someone else had done before he had reached them. He stayed kneeling for a very long time, but no one below moved an inch. Finally he rose and continued, his tears dropping from the wire and soaking into the sawdust on the ground without a sound. As he finished and collapsed to the floor of the platform, the audience applauded tentatively, aware that they had witnessed something they did not fully comprehend. Though in later years Salvo’s memory of that day would be blurred by fatigue and grief, no one down below would ever forget it.
SEVEN
The second half of the 1964 circus season brought the lowest attendance figures in the Fisher-Fielding Extravaganza’s history. Whether this was a result of the Ursaris’ fall or whether it had been coming anyway was a matter for speculation, but either way there was little denying that the glory days of the F-F were at an end. Martin was unable to think of anything that would bring them back; at the end of it all was the cold hard fact that people just weren’t interested in the magic that made the circus great. There was no way to reverse this change, it seemed. He doubted even Cole himself could have made things any better, but he often wished the old man were still alive so that they could try.
That year the Fisher-Fielding Circus Company barely broke even, and it was more than likely that it would lose money the following year. Many within the organization wanted to sell the show; despite the seeming futility of going on, there had been substantial offers made by outside interests for the company. But since Martin owned a controlling share there was little anyone could do until he made a move.
Martin considered his options long and hard. Were this not a family business, the life’s blood of his father and his aunts and uncles, he would have sold long ago. Instead, he decided to push forward. When Charlotte Fisher-Fielding died, Martin immediately bought up her one-seventh of the company. Neither Norris nor his mother and stepfather had the money to do this, and even Martin had to borrow heavily to make the purchase. A provision in the original partnership agreement allowed him to nullify the clause that had prohibited the sale of Respectable shares; the founders had stipulated that once someone controlled more than four of the seven F-F holdings, they could change the company charter. Nearly all of the Respectables were willing to sell him their shares, seeing, as everyone else did, that the circus would never again be as profitable as it had once been. This development further infuriated the remaining Spouses, but they had little recourse. When the dust had settled Martin controlled just under five-sevenths of the Fisher-Fielding Circus Company, with only Rebecca Fisher-Fielding-Barnes and Phillip Barnes holding a remaining seventh each, and one stubborn old Respectable holding on to his fractional interest because he liked the idea of owning part of a circus. Many wondered why Martin was going to such pains to take control of an obviously failing business, and his sanity was even questioned in some circles.
FOR EIGHT WEEKS DANIEL URSARI LAY UNCONSCIOUS, and then, just when the doctors thought it unlikely he would ever wake up, he opened his eyes and rejoined the world. It would take another year for his bones to heal, but he would live. He would never walk the wire again, doctors said. His heels had been shattered so badly that it would always be painful for him to put weight on them, and certainly he would never be able to meet the physical demands of the wire. He said nothing when they told him this news. Though there was nothing physically preventing him from speaking, he had not
uttered a single word since regaining consciousness.
Anna went to visit him every day, and finally when he was well enough to be moved they took him back to the farm, installing him in the upstairs room he once shared with János. From his bed he could see the door to the room that had been his sisters’, and as he lay recovering, he tried hard not to look in that direction, but always his eyes found their way to the empty space of the entrance.
The fall was never mentioned, nor was the wire; when Salvo came to see him he, too, did not speak. Salvo sat beside the bed, as silent as Daniel, and hours would pass without either of them moving. When Salvo left he would gently squeeze Daniel’s arm before going.
Every day Salvo went through the fall in his mind. He had seen so little, his back being turned to the others, and he could not figure out what had gone wrong. That he had no idea what caused the fall troubled him greatly; if the source of something could not be identified, there was no way to prevent it from happening in the future. And despite all that had happened, Salvo had every intention of returning the House to the wire. It would not be the same without Mika and Elsabeth. The thought of them would always bring him pain, but there was nothing he could do to change that. His feelings were simple, and they had been steady throughout his life. The dead die and are buried, and the living go on. He was not cold about their passing. He felt the girls’ deaths as deeply as anyone, except perhaps Anna, but he could not let their deaths kill him too. The wire was his life and he would walk again.
Anna vowed she would never again set foot on the wire, and no one doubted that she meant it. She refused to even speak of the wire and removed all photographs of the family performing from the walls, placing them in a box in the attic and never looking at them again. She was angry—a slow, hard anger that seeped its way into her every thought and action—and after a while she forgot how to not be angry. Most of all she was angry with Salvo. It was he who had put them on the wire, he who had thought up this needlessly dangerous trick, he who had talked everyone into performing it. They had enjoyed a good life on their farm, and were it not for Salvo’s unbending selfishness, they would still be enjoying it. Now her girls were dead, and she was left with this crippled orphan son who was not really even hers. Though she had never thought it possible, she sometimes wondered if she hated her husband.