CHAPTER 16
It was Saturday, three days since the trial had ended with all charges against Pearl having been dismissed and the day Lou Santino decided it would be a good day for the family to celebrate with a return trip to the circus. ‘With no stopping at the magic bench,’ he added with a laugh and a sideways look at Tiger Lilly.
‘Saturday is perfect, the last day the circus is here in Yeltsin and I insist you come as my guest,’ echoed Beth Shanghasi, who had wasted no time in calling on Lou and Sara as soon as she heard. ‘I was brought up on a farm and know how difficult it can be to take time away from all that always seems to need doing; especially after having spent much time on a trial that should never have been. Ridiculous, the whole thing!’ She patted Lou on the back. ‘Anyway you have decided to come and the first thing I have to do is let Pearl and Lilac know they won’t have to worry about losing a day’s pay – I’ll see there’s a bonus waiting for them.’
‘By the way,’ she added, turning to leave, ‘Zach, has a meeting with Prince Xavier on Saturday, but intends meeting up with us soon as he can, says there’s something he would like to discuss with you.’ She placed a hand on Lou’s arm. ‘No, Lou, it’s not about Pearl,’ she added with a laugh. ‘None of my silliness, I promise.’
And so, Saturday came. And so came a day the Santinos would never forget. `Beth was standing at the gate when they arrived and took no time rushing them to where and Pearl and Lilac were waiting in specially reserved seats at the ring side Excitement was everywhere with children cheering and squirming in their seats with hardly a single one able to stay still for a moment and Beth had to raise her voice to be heard.
‘See you when it’s over,’ she shouted. She made to say more, but a sudden loud bang shot everyone shot back in surprise and, before they could begin think what it was, there came a second bang and a flash of light that sent a huge cloud of red blue and green soaring ever upwards until it reached the highest point of the Big Top. Every eye followed the cloud until - but, no, it was not possible! – eight, nine, maybe ten trapeze artists had suddenly appeared from the very depths of the cloud and were now catapulting in all directions; somersaulting and criss-crossing and careering across the top of the tent ; missing each other by barely a hair
Beth gave a hurried wave, shouted ‘see-you-later’ and hurried to the exit.
‘Welcome to the world famous Shanghasi Circus!’ called the Ringmaster, cracking at his whip as he strode with giant-size strides into the ring. Pearl and Lilac remembered him as the taller than tall man who had greeted them when they first arrived at the circus, but now he was resplendent in a fiery-red, cut-away jacket and wearing the highest of top hats. Somehow he seemed even taller, his handle-bar moustache longer and his voice even louder. ‘Welcome to a show the likes of which you have never seen before and will doubtless never see again,’ he called in his booming, circus voice. He gave another sharp crack of his whip and a tumble of acrobats rushed past him to spread fanlike across the ring. Then just as suddenly, they stopped to point to one side of the Big Top and every head turned to see a huge pipe organ rising majestically before them. The Big Top performance had begun.
Never had they seen such a marvel. Two hours it lasted with jugglers and dancers and fire-eaters; with knife throwers that missed by a whisper; with tight-rope walkers who laughed as they diced with danger and a girl who dived from a tiny perch high in the riggings of the Big Top to plunge headlong into a barrel of water fifty feet below. Hardly a splash.
‘Its a magician next,’ whispered Lilac. ‘He’s called Wong Tu and he comes from China and Mrs Shanghasi said we won’t believe the things he does.’ And they couldn’t. Well how to believe a whole flock of doves could fly from under his cloak, circle twice around the Big Top and then fly back under it again. And explain, if you can, how he managed to make his tiny assistant – ‘it’s his daughter,’ came another whisper from Lilac - disappear from inside an ordinary, everyday cardboard box set high on an ordinary everyday, four-legged table and appear a few seconds later in a seat in the audience. Sitting quietly, if you please, with not so much as a hair out of place!But, best of all was Beeko the clown. So funny there were times you prayed for him to stop, give you time to find breath. And that business with the birthday cake – well, that was the limit!
‘All those under fifteen celebrating their birthday this week, please come down into the ring,’ the Ringmaster called. ‘And don’t be shy!’
‘That’s you,’ whispered Pearl.’
‘Yes that’s you!’ echoed Lilac.
Tiger Lilly jumped from her seat as though shot from a spring and stepped over the tiny wall that surrounded the ring. She had said not a word since the performance began - had simply stared and swallowed and stared again and wondered how old you had to be to join a circus. Two other children were celebrating their birthdays, a boy and a girl. ‘I’m seven,’ said the boy’ ‘And you?’ asked the Ringmaster. ‘Five’ said the little girl. ‘And you?’ ‘Nine,’ said Tiger Lilly proudly. ’And you, little man, how old are you?’ Tiger Lilly turned: She hadn’t realised Mattie had followed her, was now standing alongside her, smiling his widest and reaching to hold her hand.
‘Oh so sorry, I didn’t see him, didn’t know he was following me,’ explained Tiger Lilly, surprised. ‘He’s only two and he’ll not be three for weeks and weeks and he’s usually shy and doesn’t talk very much. Not to anyone.’
‘Weeks and weeks you say!’ replied the Ringmaster. ‘Well, I don’t know about you, but I rather think that weeks and weeks would seem an awful long time to wait for a birthday when you are a two. Yes, indeed, an awfully long time, especially when you have had only two birthdays to celebrate in the whole of your life. So, children, how about if we let him have an extra birthday today and call it a Pretend Birthday.’ Everyone cheered. ‘All right, everyone agrees, so now we have three birthdays and one pretend birthday to celebrate which, I think, makes it a jolly good time to bring in the birthday cake. So you four birthday children sit on the wall while I have the cake brought in.’
Beeko,’ he called swinging on his heels. ‘Time for the cake.’ He waited a while, shouted again. ‘Beeko, it’s time for the cake.’ Another wait. Still no Beeko. He shook his head. ‘Really, that Beeko! Never around when he’s wanted.’ He waited another minute. ‘Tell you what,’ he said. ‘My guess is that Beeko is probably fast asleep in one of his hidey holes, so how about if all you children shout out as loud as you can and maybe he will wake up and remember it is time for him to bring in the birthday cake.’
So everyone shouted as loud as loud. No Beeko! Oh, dear me, that’s nowhere near loud enough,’ cried the Ringmaster, shaking his head. ‘My gosh, no! Nowhere near loud enough. No, boys and girls, I’m afraid you will have to shout a lot louder than that if you want to wake Beeko! So they shouted again. This time the loudest ever. Still no Beeko!
‘It’s no use, you adults will have to help’ cried the Ringmaster waiving his arms in despair and so the adults shouted in their loudest of adult loud shouts and in came Beeko, but slowly, deliberately, placing each foot carefully in front of the other. He was as round as a plum pudding with a tomato for a nose and a watermelon smile that stretched from ear to ear and not only was he was carrying the most enormous birthday cake you ever did see, but it was piled so high with cream that poor Beeko could hardly see where he was going. Beeko,’ roared the Ringmaster, charging towards him, throwing his arms in the air and shouting in his Ringmaster voice. ‘How many times do I have to tell you that our birthday cakes are far too big for you to carry on your own? Always ask for help!
But poor Beeko had no idea the Ringmaster was so near –well how could he with the cake in front of his face? – and as he jumped back at the sound of the Ringmaster’s voice, he caught one foot in the other, tripped over backwards, lost his balance, tripped again and sped at the most alarming speed cross the ring only to stop at the side of the ring with the cake hovering over the heads of the people in the t
wo front rows. How he managed to hold on to the cake, no one would ever know – especially those scrambling fast as they could to move away from the swaying cake.
It was so funny! Six, seven, maybe eight times he sped across the ring as he tried to regain his balance only to find himself, once again, with the cake waving like a leaf over yet another front row. Finally though and at long last he managed to find his feet and he stood, breathing hard, proud with himself in the centre of the ring and smiling his biggest clown smile. And he had every right to be proud – not a spick, not a spot or a squelsh of cream had fallen from the birthday cake and he waited until everyone was standing and cheering and clapping and shouting how clever he was. And so they should. But a moment, what was this? The smile was slowly fading, was disappearing, was suddenly gone.
Poor Beeko. He wriggled his toes. Wriggled them again. Definitely something wrong! He took a deep breath, looked down.at his feet. That what it! He had lost a shoe and there was not a sign of it anywhere. So now Beeko was really upset and wearing his saddest of all sad faces and soon the tears began to fall. Not ordinary tears but real Clown tears that squirted jets of water in all directions, but mainly on the Ringmaster no matter where he stood. But, where on earth was his shoe?
‘There, behind you!’ Every child in the Big Top was standing and pointing. ‘There, behind you!’
Beeko turned, lifted the cake high above his head so he could see where they were pointing and there it was. Beeko had his shoe. A slight problem, though! His shoe was, as you would naturally expect, no ordinary shoe. Of course it wasn’t! It was a Clown shoe and, as every one who knows anything about anything would know that clown shoes are at least four times as long as any ordinary shoe and each time Beeko tried to push his foot into his shoe, it shot up from the ground like a one- sided see-saw and gave him such a slap and a wallop that he came near as could be to being knocked off his feet again. Still holding the cake.
Well, no counting how many times he tried, Beeko could not find a way to push the shoe back on his foot. Simply could not. And so, Beeko began to do what all clowns do when they cannot think what else to do - he began to cry again. Oh. not the squirty tears of a moment ago, not the tears that came near to soaking the Ringmaster and made everyone laugh, but tears that sounded really and truly sad. All right, so there are people who would be quick to say that Beeko could have solved his problem simply by asking the Ringmaster to hold the cake while he attended to his shoe, but then is that the way of a clown? No, it is not! Not his way at all! Not the way of any real, self-respecting clown.
Then IT happened. IT being a happening that would be talked about for many a day - by the circus folk of the Shanghasi, by the people of Yeltsin and by all those who love to hear true stories of circus life.
Beeko was still standing in the middle of the circus ring and crying more and bigger tears by the minute – the Ringmaster had kindly placed a bucket at his feet and you could actually hear the tears dropping one by one - the sound seemed to be coming from the organ, but of course it wasn’t - and there he stayed trying his best to think of a way to get his shoe back on his foot. Then, to everyone’s surprise, little Mattie Santino let go of his sister’s hand, walked calmly to the middle of the ring, picked up the shoe, carried it over to Beeko and placed it carefully on his foot. Then, without so much as a pause, he turned, walked back to his sister and took her hand again.
There were still many acts to follow, all of them every bit as good if not a smidge better than those they had already enjoyed: Beeko opened the second part of the show by introducing his own large family of clowns; Bruno Alvino, said to be the greatest escapologist ever, gave a surprise appearance – he was bound with ropes, shackled with inch-thick chains, placed in a sack high above the ground and yet he escaped in less than a minute; a dance group from Spain danced their Flamanco dances with a gusto that had everyone clapping and stamping their feet and the same wonderful team of trapeze artists that had opened the show, gave a second performance that was even more daring and thrilling than before.
And yet at the end of the show, when the Ringmaster insisted that Mattie should stand with all the other performers for their final bow, it can truly be said that the applause for Mattie was as loud as any. Even, perhaps, as loud as the applause for Beeko. Of course, Tiger Lilly had to stand with him and hold his hand.
‘I’ve heard all about Mattie and Beeko’s shoe,’ said Beth as she met them at the exit. ‘I only wish I could have been there to see him. Mind you,’ she added, ‘I have to admit it’s not at all unusual for children to decide they want to be part of the show, especially the tiny ones, and we are always more than happy when they do. Makes the show that much more fun.’
‘By the way,’ she added. ‘Zach is back from seeing the Prince, but says he has something he would like to discuss with you and thinks it better if you would join him at our caravan. No need for the children to be there: I’ll stay with them, help them choose their rides and, Sara, don’t you be worrying, I’ll enjoy keeping an eye on them. Not that it matters, Pearl will be with us.’ She laughed then and turned to face Lou: ‘No Lou, I can truly promise your discussion with Zach will not be about Pearl. I’m not sure of the details, didn’t have time to ask, but I do know it’s something quite different. Entirely different.’