Ephemia Rimaldi, page 8
Jacque’s eyes sparked with interest. “If our act has a performance trick, then it won’t just be a knockabout act.”
Madelene nodded. “It will be worthy of the Great Yolandas.”
Jacque huddled with Madelene and said something in her ear. She shook her head, then he whispered fiercely, She sighed. He looked up at Effy and smiled, but it wasn’t a We’re all in this together smile. Instead, it was as if he was in on the most interesting joke in the world.
Effy swallowed twice. It felt like a lump of sawdust got caught halfway down her throat. A twinge of doubt rose in her mind, but she stamped it down.
“Fine.” Madelene turned to Effy, “But when you join us, just sit on the flybar and swing from one side to the ofter, I will push you, and Jacque will catch you on the other side.”
Effy nodded in agreement.
“Wear your most hoity-toity outfit and your finest boots, but not your gloves,” said Jacque. “You don’t want to slip off the ropes. The net is a long way down.” He sauntered off,
Effy did a double-take. Was that a threat? Madelene noticed Effy’s hesitation and grabbed her hand. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I won’t let him push you or let you fall. You will come to no harm.”
Effy supposed that was reassuring.
Although it would have been more reassuring if Madelene hadn’t needed to say anything at all.
Chapter 13: Her Mortification
The sun was setting and there was no time to lose. People had already lined up to purchase tickets under the banner that said “The Great Rimaldi Circus.” After a measly supper of a slice of bread with a dribble of molasses, Effy prepared for her act. Inside her wagon, she kicked off her clogs, or what the acrobats called slop shoes. With great happiness, she tore off the dratted leotard and changed into her green silk dress, frilled bloomers, and stockings. Effy laced up her boots.
A thorough bag search didn’t produce a hairbrush. Perhaps in her haste to bring her favourite books, Effy had forgotten to pack one. She plucked sawdust chips from her hair. Once she was presentable, Effy took the back way around the tent and slipped into the striped big top. She took a seat in the audience. No one noticed her, not even Phineas, as the other performers got in position for the show to begin.
The murky light inside the canvas tent cast dreamlike shadows. As if part of the dream, Effy imagined sailing, through the air on the flying trapeze. Everyone would be amazed, This was the perfect plan, and it would be a most satisfying moment to see the surprise on the ringmaster’s face.
If only her stomach would agree.
The single slice of bread had turned into a heavy Jump, She had Miss Mabel’s apple and precious orangs tucked in her dress pockets for later, and now she was glad she hadn’t eaten them.
Handlers pulled back the entrance flap and a cool breeze filtered through the tent. Townsfolk streamed into the big top and took their seats on the benches. Effy’s heart beat quickly as she kept her gaze fastened on the circus ring. The brass band blared, and when a marching tune swelled, Phineas strode into the arena.
Phineas commanded the attention of the audience with the crack of his whip. Taking off his top hat, the ringmaster bowed to the crowd, then placed the hat back on his head. The crowd cheered. Effy looked at the people sitting beside her, She saw marvel on their faces. Could Aunt Ada have been mistaken? Was there more to Phineas than flimflam and nonsense?
With another snap of the ringmaster’s whip, horses and acrobats circled the ring. Effy gasped as the acrobats jumped from one white horse to another. One woman did a handstand on a galloping horse, showing more derring-do than any cowboy in any Wild West show back on the farm.
Clowns with floppy shoes, white greasepaint, and red rubber noses cavorted with the audience between acts. They bumbled and bounced off each other, and some poked fun at the townsfolk. One clown grabbed a child’s bag of popcorn, but handed it back when the girl hollered.
With another crack of the whip, Phineas bellowed for the audience to watch the tiger tamer in the cage with her tiger. Effy barely took a breath as she watched the tiger jump through rings. The tiger roared, reminding everyone it was a wild beast that could tear off the trainer’s arm with a single bite.
The big top had such a mesmerizing effect on Effy that she looked up in surprise when Jacque tugged her arm. It took her a moment to remember what he wanted. He pulled her to her feet.
A hush fell over the audience as Effy crossed the sawdust floor. She decided in a snap that she wouldn’t avoid the truth of it. Her legs were more than a little wobbly. She told herself how everyone was going to be surprised when she got up onto that platform and swung from the trapeze, especially Phineas.
Jacque flew up the rope ladder while Effy took one rung at a time. People had already started gasping, especially when the rope wobbled. She smiled to herself and warmed to the performance. Effy began making the most of a few bumbles and stumbles. Halfway up, she twisted the ladder around and was rewarded with shouts of fear.
She’d stumbled too well, and the ringmaster strode toward her. Effy then flew up the rest of the rungs as fast as a squirrel scrambling up a tree.
Madelene and Jacque were already on the other platform. Effy looked down, way down, to the net below, and swallowed as her heart banged against her ribs.
Jacque and Madelene swung and changed bars on the trapeze. At one point, Jacque hung upside down and caught Madelene. If the audience applauded, Effy didn’t hear.
It also didn’t matter that handlers were shouting at each other as they stared up at the ropes. It didn’t matter that Phineas stood below and demanded she come straight back down. It didn’t matter that the horses neighed restlessly as the acrobats circled the outer ring and watched her, or that the caged tiger roared.
Effy hardly heard any of it Sounds faded as blood banged against Elly’s eardrums.
“Hurry,” urged Madelene, handing her the fly bar. *You can’t hesitate. You know that by now. This is a simple swing, And for pity’s sake, don’t stand. Make sure you stay seated.”
Effy’s confidence had evaporated like spilled lemonade on a hot day. She even felt the stickiness of her sweat. So what if she’d climbed plenty of ladders on the farm, or swung from tree branches? She’d trusted only herself then, and not these two, who’d let her fall like Humpty Dumpty.
She was sure Jacque had pushed her from the circus wagon so she would land in a giant pile of elephant manure—which would have been worse than where she landed, despite her burps and bruises.
Effy decided in a snap that to be safe, she’d swing to the other platform and jump off before Jacque caught her. Effy grabbed a handful of rosin and rubbed it onto her palms. She stepped on the trapeze.
“I said sit on the bar,” urged Madelene.
Effy slid down and sat. Her fists turned white as she gripped the rope. Madelene pushed hard and Effy swung from the platform. The audience gasped in delight.
Effy pumped her legs and swung toward the other platform. But she brought her knees sharply back just as Jacque reached out. She wouldn’t deny the truth of it, his annoyed grimace made her smirk.
On her second swing, Effy gripped the ropes and pulled herself to stand on the swing. She was rewarded by more gasps, even screams and shouts—although the shouts were possibly from Phineas. Couldn’t the ringmaster see she was a fine aerialist?
“Boots are too stiff for a fly bar,” Madelene hissed when Effy swung back.
Too late, Effy’s boot slipped, and her leg and arm dangled from the swing as she clung to the rope with her other hand.
People screamed. Perhaps she was one of them.
Effy gripped with all her might and pulled herself upright on the bar. Then she slid back down to a sitting position. As she struggled to centre herself, she didn’t have time to pull back her knees.
Jacque leaned forward and grabbed Effy by her boots. He tugged Effy straight off the swing and hung her upside down.
Effy’s skirts and petticoats covered her head. The audience burst into laughter. Her face burned with mortification. She could feel her bloomers slide up past her knees and edge toward total disaster— her bare thighs.
The audience chortled and bellowed. A thump landed above Effy. Another pair of hands grabbed her behind the knees and pulled her up to the platform. Her face blazed, but it wasn’t from all the blood rushing to her head.
Jacque smirked. “Don’t you know it’s bad luck to wear green in a circus act?”
Effy fumed, but she had no choice. She had to climb down the ladder and take her place centre ring with the two hooli gans. The audience still roared with laughter. When the three of them bowed, Effy couldn’t bring herself to look up at the people in the stands. What if Sophia or Mrs. Winterbottom had attended? Nor could she cast her gaze at Phineas, who was muttering words like “disaster” and “dangerous,” and other words of which Aunt Ada would strongly disapprove.
Instead, she ran from the ring and looked nowhere but at the sawdust beneath her feet.
Chapter 14: The Ringmaster’s Wrath
Effy stumbled as she ducked through the canvas flap at the back exit—what the performers called clown alley. The sky spun like a top before she regained her footing. She steadied herself against a huge pillar.
“Watch out!” shouted Miss Dot.
Effy twisted around. It wasn’t a pillar. It was the elephant’s limb—which was very . . . big . . . Circus folk gasped. Someone laughed—she suspected Madelene.
Effy gulped and lurched away. She had to admit the truth of it. While she wasn’t unschooled in the size of elephants, standing this close made her realize in a whole other way just how gigantic this elephant was.
Balally had been painted for the parade and the show. Her chalky white trunk snaked toward Effy and arched over her head. The trunk hovered there a second, then crept down Effy until the tip reached her front pocket.
“Don’t move!”
“The elephant’s attacking the ringmaster’s daughter.”
“The elephant’s getting ready to attack us all!”
Effy froze. People backed away. A man hollered, “Stop shouting or you’ll spook the elephant and make her stampede!”
Someone else said, “Cuthbert, git over here. Where’s your uncle?”
Cuthbert dropped his water buckets near the back exit. He raced toward Effy and the elephant.
Balally searched Effy’s pocket and plucked out her orange. In one flex of her trunk, Balally dropped the orange into her mouth. The second time the elephant’s trunk arced, Effy quickly pulled the apple out of her other pocket and held it up. “Here,” she gulped. “Please, help yourself.”
“Balally loves your fruit more than I loved my mother’s curried fish roti,” Cuthbert joked. Then he quickly added, “Please stay calm.”
“I’m perfectly calm,” Effy lied.
The shouting man reached over to bat Cuthbert’s car, but Cuthbert stepped aside. “No sudden movements, please, sir.”
The man backed away. Balally gently grazed her trunk over Cuthbert’s hair and shoulder.
“It’s a menace,” said the man, once he stood at a safer distance. “We all could have been trampled.”
A few other performers murmured in agreement.
“Where is the elephant handler?” Mr. Jefferson waded through the mob of performers who’d circled them. “The acrobats are riding again because he hasn’t taken Balally out to the ring.”
He spotted Cuthbert and said, “Do you know where your uncle is? He’d never leave his elephant alone like this.”
Worry furrowed Cuthbert’s brow, “I haven’t seen him since the parade. I’ll look for him.”
“The show must go on,” Mr. Jefferson said, firmly but gently.
Cuthbert sucked in his breath and gently urged his elephant toward the entrance. “I’ll ride her.”
Effy remembered that after the parade, she’d seen the elderly handler leaning against the canvas by the big top entrance. Now, exiting the big top, she spotted the crumpled figure sitting on the ground and hurried toward him. “Mr. Jefferson, Miss Mabel. Someone, please help!”
The old man struggled for breath. Mr. Jefferson came running, with Mabel and Madam Vadoma right behind him.
“I am fine,” the elephant handler said, waving his hand to shoo them away. “I . . . just had one of my spells.”
“What sort of spells would that be, Amal?” asked Mr. Jefferson as he helped him up.
The old man wheezed. “I simply needed a rest. That is all.”
“Elephants can’t be left wandering about on their own, especially during a performance,” Mr. Jefferson said, not unkindly. “If this happens again . . . ”
“No need to worry,” said the elephant handler. “I am fine now. And listen how the audience claps for my nephew. All is well.”
Miss Mabel sent a worker to fetch water for Mr. Amal. More performers gathered. When everyone looked at Effy, they either chuckled or whispered to each other.
“Say it to my face,” Effy said through gritted teeth. Her cheeks burned, but it was best to get her humiliation over with and move on.
“You mean that the ringmaster finally met his match?” Miss Mabel smiled.
That wasn’t what Effy had expected they’d been saying
Mr. Jefferson snorted, then took his cap off and wiped his forehead with his bandana. “We shouldn’t be laughing, though. Phineas is storming around and looks like he’s swallowed a bucket of hot coals.”
“Those trapeze terrors have crossed the line.” Miss Mabel dropped her voice. “It was only a matter of time before they stirred the ringmaster’s wrath.”
“Poor Yolanda.” Madam Vadoma sighed. “Vat vill happen to them now?”
You’re the fortune teller, thought Effy.
The show had ended and townsfolk poured out of the tent. Effy took her leave and circled around the big top, away from the midway. She’d only been thinking of her great mortification. Angering the ringmaster had never occurred to her. It was all Jacque and Madelene’s fault. Effy spotted them loitering backstage in clown alley, near the animal pens.
“Sneaks, wretches!” Effy shouted at them. “I hope the ringmaster dumps a vat of molasses over your heads, rolls you in chicken feathers, and runs you out of town. I should . . . ”
Effy pulled to a stop. She hadn’t noticed Phineas and Yolanda standing there.
Madelene hung her head. Her long black ringlets fell past her waist. Jacque’s face had taken on a greenish tinge. Phineas’s complexion had darkened to magenta.
Yolanda wrung her hands together. “You’ve gone too far,” she snapped at the trapeze terrors. “The ringmaster was the only one who would take us in. So, how do you repay him? You almost kill his daughter.”
Phineas put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Yolanda, but that was a calamity wrapped up in a disaster. This time I must . . . ”
“It was my idea,” said Effy.
Everyone’s head swooped in her direction.
“What?” said Phineas.
Effy swallowed. “The act was my grand scheme. Jacque and Madelene needed a trick so they wouldn’t perform a boring knockabout act. So, I suggested they pull me from the audience. And we’d pretend I’d almost fall.” Except it wasn’t all pretend.
Phineas’s bushy eyebrows drew together like a giant caterpillar glued to his forehead. He took a step toward her.
Effy struggled but found her voice. “And my plan worked . . . ah, mostly.”
“The audience loved it,” said Madelene.
“They were howling with . . . ”
“Stop.” Yolanda held out her hand, cutting off Jacque.
Phineas reached over and grasped Effy’s chin. He lifted her face up to his until she couldn’t look away from his icy stare. “You will never step inside that circus ring again. Am. I. Clear?”
Effy would have nodded but he’d locked hold of her chin. She said, “You are clear.”
Phineas spun around and stormed away.
Chapter 15: The Eye of the Tiger
Effy intended to go straight to her wagon and stay out of the ringmaster’s way. That was the truth of it. But she’d cut through the animal menagerie and couldn’t resist stopping by the elephant pen. Inside the small, fenced area, Cuthbert led his elephant to a tethering post and fastened her leg to a long chain.
“I found your uncle,” Effy reassured him. “He said he had one of his spells. Miss Mabel and Miss Vadoma are tending him, though he says he’s fine now.”
Cuthbert nodded, but his face was pinched with worry. With a start, Effy saw Balally sense his dismay and stroke his hair with her trunk.
Effy had never given much thought to horses pulling carts, or cats and dogs roaming the neighbourhood, or the chickens she’d argued with every morning on the farm. This elephant’s tenderness surprised her.
“I think your elephant loves you with all her heart,” said Effy, climbing up on the top run of the fence.
“An elephants heart is very big so I am lucky.” Cuthbert handed Balally a handful of straw. “I see you are fearless of my elephant. That you sense how gentle she is.”
Effy had perched herself on a rung just short of where the elephant’s trunk could reach. Or at least, that’s what she thought. The elephant arced her trunk and laid it on Effy’s chest. As her heart pounded, Balally lifted the tip of her trunk toward Effy’s face, as if giving her a good sniff. Cuthbert had called Effy fearless, so she did her best not to flinch.
“Balally’s taken to you, “ Cuthbert said.
“Um, how nice,” Effy tried but failed not to sound Mustered.
