The Judge and the Gypsy (13 page)

“Zeena, you’ve never had coffee in this tent in your life before. You have your own coffeepot in your trailer.”

“Today I felt like company, and a few answers. What are you going to do?”

“Do? I’m going to do what I do every day, see to the
operation of the Ramey Circus. I’m going to write letters about future bookings, open the mail, pay bills, and rehearse.”

“Rehearse what?”

“On the wires, what else?”

“Oh, Savannah, can’t you see what’s happening?”

Zeena sat down across from Savannah, settling her bulk into the folding chair gingerly. Everything about the circus was falling apart; the cook tent table and chairs were no exception.

“What’s happening is what happens every fall—we settle in for the winter and plan next year’s itinerary.”

“And what month is this?”

“It’s November.”

“And when is fair season?”

“The fall, I guess.” Savannah didn’t want the conversation to go where Zeena was taking it. “At least it isn’t cold yet. We don’t have to worry about heating bills.”

“Right, we don’t. We have to worry about repair and maintenance bills, and we’re doing it nearly a month earlier than we ought to. In years past we’ve been booked every week in November, sometimes even later. This year we aren’t. Your father is tired, Savannah. He can’t walk the wires anymore; he doesn’t want to. He’s ready to quit.”

“It was all because of Tifton that he lost his drive. He’ll get over that now. We’ll find a way to hire some new acts, and by next spring we’ll be ready to go again.”

“No, Savannah, we won’t. Sooner or later you’re going to have to face the truth. The circus is finished. And it didn’t have anything to do with Tifton. He
would have left sooner or later. The only reason he stayed around for the time being was so he had a place to run to when he got in trouble.”

“Zeena! How dare you? Tifton was—Tifton was good and kind and—”

“Tifton was wild and undisciplined, Savannah, and somebody always bailed him out. Your father loved him, and he tried to blame his death on someone else. But he knew. He never saw Tifton through rose-colored glasses like you did. Your brother was no innocent kid sowing his wild oats. The woman he hit wasn’t killed, but she could have been. You’ve been wrong about Tifton. Maybe you’re wrong about the judge too.”

Savannah stared through the open tent, watching Niko as he washed down Nell, the last of their adult elephants. Beyond the compound was the big top.
Big top
. Even from where she was sitting, she could see the patches, patches that didn’t quite keep out the rain when it was heavy.

Rain, falling on a tent
. For a moment she was back in the tiny tent with Rasch. She straightened her shoulders, trying not to remember how protected she’d felt lying in his arms while he warmed her, trying not to acknowledge the instant desire that sparked between them or the frustration that stretched her emotions to the breaking point every moment they were apart.

Savannah focused on Tifton. She knew that Zeena was telling the truth about her brother. In the days since she’d been back, Savannah had been bombarded with conflicting emotions and memories. She remembered the first time Tifton walked the wire
from one side to the other alone, how he grew more and more confident until, at fifteen, he was playing to the crowds with such charm that it became a game, figuring out which girl would be waiting behind the tent after the show. Then, as he grew older, he’d become reckless on the wire and off.

When had it changed? When had Tifton started drinking, fighting, driving too fast, taking such foolish chances? It was as if he weren’t alive unless he was tempting fate. Had she been the last one to know?

Had she blamed her crusader for something that wasn’t his fault?

Savannah turned back to answer Zeena and found she was alone. She hadn’t heard the fortune-teller leave. In the distance she caught site of Zeena and her father, walking across the compound. They were talking. Her father was looking down at the fortune-teller with a smile on his face, the kind of smile his daughter rarely saw anymore.

Savannah went to the truck. She had to get away, to think. She’d had a call from a fellow circus owner who wanted to talk about a merger or an outright sale. This was as good a time as any to find out what he had to say. His company was playing just north of Atlanta for the week, far enough for a long drive and close enough for Savannah to be back by the next day. She stopped by the elephant lot and told Niko where she was going, and left instructions for the remaining crew members in camp.

Savannah drove slowly across the field to the highway, turning north. She opened all the windows and unplaited her braid, allowing her hair to fly in the wind.

That’s the way the crusader liked her hair, free and wild, just as it was when they were together. She felt a tightness well up in her throat. What was she thinking of? A judge and a Gypsy? Only in legends and fairy tales. And Savannah was through believing in either.

Alfred Ramey was a tall man with tired dark eyes and a calm manner. He stood inside his trailer, just beyond the open door, studying Rasch.

“So you’re the one who cursed our family. I’ve been waiting for you. Come in, Horatio Webber.”

“How did you know?”

“I knew that you’d come sooner or later. I didn’t know what you would say. I’m ready to listen.”

Rasch put aside his reservations and stepped inside. An hour later he’d learned all he needed to know about the circus and Savannah, and he’d offered his proposition. Alfred Ramey didn’t entirely believe that Rasch wanted to make restitution for the damage he’d done to the Ramey family, but he was too wise to refuse the opportunity to the man who held the key to his daughter’s happiness.

“All right, Rasch,” Alfred finally agreed. “But you need to know that this isn’t really Savannah’s fault. I closed my eyes to Tifton’s faults just as she did. His
death seemed to be an omen. I blamed you rather than accept losing our way of life.”

“But I was responsible, Alfred. If I hadn’t made an example of your son, he wouldn’t be dead.”

“We can’t know what the Fates have in store for us, Rasch. If I hadn’t been so angry, I would have stopped Savannah when she told me what she was going to do. I even approved. But I was wrong, and I don’t want to lose her. What about you, Rasch—why are you here?”

“I don’t know exactly. To try and make amends somehow to Savannah. I never meant to harm Tifton, just to teach him a lesson. I thought that he was heading for big trouble.”

“I know. No matter how much I wish it were different, I’ve come to understand that Tifton was responsible for his own fate. And that same thinking tells me that Savannah is responsible for hers. I won’t refuse your help, but I won’t allow you to stay if she doesn’t want you here.”

“Fair enough,” Rasch said with growing confidence. “What shall I do first?”

By the time Savannah returned the next morning, her trailer was wearing a new coat of paint, and Zeena’s sign was bright red instead of a faded pink.

“Savannah? You’re just in time,” Niko called out, “we have a little job for tomorrow.”

“What kind of job?” Savannah was tired and depressed. A new coat of paint on her trailer was a waste. The offer she’d got for their circus was so low that she’d laughed. The circus could never go another season without money, but she wouldn’t give it
away either. Still, unless she came up with a miracle, the circus might even have to close. Somebody meant well, but a little paint wasn’t going to help.

“We’ve got two days at a children’s home in East Point.”

“A children’s home? Niko, we can’t afford charity.”

“This isn’t for charity. It’s a money-making event, and we get part of the proceeds.”

“It’ll cost us more to set up than we’ll make. Besides, we don’t have enough help. There’s nobody to leave behind to look after things here.”

“Yes, there is, Savannah, we have a new hand.”

“A new hand? Who? Where did he come from?”

“Your father hired him yesterday while you were gone. He’s over in the animal compound washing out the cats’ cages and cleaning up behind the elephants.”

Her father had hired a new hand yesterday, knowing the state of their finances? It had been so long since he’d taken an interest in managing the circus. Savannah shook off the curious feeling of unease that was sweeping over her. The back of her neck began to prickle, and she felt slightly light-headed. Granted, she hadn’t stopped to eat on the drive back, but this sensation was more than that.

Savannah was beginning to have bad vibes. She started to run.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt. The scars on his back rippled as he leaned over to the shovel away from the refuse. A sheen of perspiration covered his well-muscled upper arms and chest, and his hair was tousled golden in the fall sunlight. Savannah came to an abrupt stop, her mouth dry and her heart pounding.

As if he were responding to her unspoken message, Rasch straightened up, leaned the shovel against the old barn they used as shelter for the elephants, and turned around. He’d known she was back from the moment she got out of the truck, but he’d waited for her to come to him. Now she had to speak first.

“Crusader, what in hell are you doing here?”

“I’m working.”

“I can see that. Why?”

“It took me a while, but I finally figured it out, Gypsy. You held me responsible for the hurt you and your father suffered. Tifton is dead because of my decision to make an example of him. I can’t change that even if I wanted to. But I can take his place. It won’t be the same, but it’s the best I can do.”

“There’s no way you can take Tifton’s place.”

“I know that.” Rasch took a step forward. “I know what it is to blind yourself to a person’s faults when you love that person. I’m sorry, Gypsy.”

“No, don’t touch me, Horatio Webber. Don’t you lay a hand on me.” Savannah folded her arms across her chest and held tight. She was shaking, fighting off an incredible urge to fling herself into his arms.

“I won’t touch you, Gypsy. I know full well the danger in that. I’ve done a lot of thinking about us. We’re too powerful together. We have only to touch and we’re lost. This physical connection between us seems to close out everything else. I think it came too soon. We became lovers before we became friends. We’re going to start over.”

“Do you really think we could ever be merely friends, Crusader?”

“I don’t know, but we’re going to spend some
normal time together, get to know each other and find out.”

“What about your job? A judge can’t just join a circus, or do you plan to give up the bench.”

“No, I can’t turn my back on my responsibilities, but I can work here at night and on the weekends. I’ve already moved my things into a trailer that your father said wasn’t being used. For now, I’m going to commute to Atlanta.”

“I don’t want you working here. I won’t hire you.”

“Too late, Gypsy, your father already has.”

“But I want you—”

“I know,” he interrupted, using a grin to break the tension, “but, like I said, I’m going to back off. You’re going to have to stop lusting after my body and let me get back to work.”

“Lusting after your body?”

“There’s something basic about shoveling manure, don’t you think?” he went on in a normal tone of voice. “Niko says it’s good for my masculinity. It makes things grow.”

Savannah gasped. The man was flirting with her. She could have said that if Judge Horatio Webber grew any more, his clothes wouldn’t be able to conceal the parts of him she’d come to know so intimately, but she didn’t.

“I thought you’d like that idea, darling.” He smiled and turned back to his shovel.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing, Crusader, but that isn’t the kind of talk the public expects from a gubernatorial candidate. And I don’t think this circus needs another clown.”

“Oh, I’m not joking. This is a serious discussion about growth. Growth is change, and change is good
for the soul. If I intend to be a good governor, I want to get back to basics, answer the needs of all the people. That’s growth and change.”

“Rasch, I don’t think a lot of circus people vote. What makes you think the public will even consider a man who moonlights in the circus?”

“I think they’ll like a man of the people. If not, I can always find a job with a shovel. There’s a lot of manure in the world, Savannah, and I’m a man who doesn’t back down from a mission. You ought to know that.”

Rasch was here, in her circus, performing Tifton’s chores. Savannah left immediately, taking Niko and a small troupe of performers to the orphanage, leaving Rasch and Alfred Ramey behind. While they were gone, Rasch and Alfred inventoried the circus, discarding equipment and costumes that were hopelessly worn out, and concentrating on refurbishing the remainder. Under Horatio’s quiet guidance, Alfred began to oversee the operation of the circus for the first time since Tifton’s death.

On her return, Savannah found herself without her usual job, so she began spending more and more of her time on the high wire, creating an aerial act with Niko, who had been in their original act before Tifton became the star and changed the focus of the act from flying to walking the wire. Tifton never wanted to catch; there was no glory there. By walking the wire, he could show his body to its best advantage.

Trying to work out a routine that was complex enough to entertain their audiences, Savannah began
to combine her aerial act with their flying. Niko caught her when she flew through the air, and worked at her side as she walked the wire alone. She added flaming batons to her act, balancing on the wire as the fire twirled high over the spectators. The two functions merged, and a new act was born—not an especially spectacular one, but for now it was enough for the Flying Gypsies to be flying again.

The two-day engagement at the children’s home had brought in enough money to repair the costumes and buy food for the troupe. Gradually word spread about the resurgence of the Ramey Circus, and former employees began to appear again, asking for their old jobs back.

Every day Judge Horatio Webber, dressed in a three-piece suit, left the grounds and reported to the courthouse. Once he left, Savannah’s breathing returned to normal, and she took a long nap to compensate for the sleep she wasn’t getting at night. Rasch made up for his lack of rest by napping at lunchtime and for an hour after court before he returned to the circus. Then, returning to his trailer, he stripped down to jeans and a sweatshirt and reported to Alfred Ramey for his next assignment.