Rain Village - Carolyn Turgeon [101]
“Oh,” he said, laughing, “they’ve always been that way—circus folk, that is. It doesn’t mean anything. They just have to believe the people come here for them and them only.”
“Don’t you think they’re horrible, though?” I asked, holding my breath. “With their tattoos and scales and wings?”
He looked at me, surprised. “Why, do you?” he asked.
“No.” I whispered it, staring at my hands folded in my lap. I stretched my feet till they tapped the bleacher below. “But I’ve heard Geraldo call them all freaks. I’ve heard others say it, too.”
He laughed. “Geraldo! Who could be more of a freak than that guy? He’s probably got ten children in every town we pass through.”
His voice was so loud, I looked around the tent to see if anyone had heard. The Kriminov Twins were still practicing—Masha flipping from Sergei’s shoulders to the floor. It was beautiful. There, a perfect moment, right in the middle of a long afternoon. Why wasn’t I happier than I was, surrounded by such things?
“Ana told me that we don’t mix with them, that her family never does,” I said.
Suddenly I heard Ana’s voice that first day: Aren’t you in the ten-in-one?
No! I thought. Clementine is the freak. I thought of the wings stretching out of flesh and bone. The disgusting fusion of feather and bone and blood and flesh.
Mauro turned to me. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Why do you care what the Vadalas do? They think their Italian blood is more pure than our blood.”
“I’m fine,” I said, but could feel my face scrunching up and tears burning at my eyes.
“What is it?” he asked, taking my hands in his. “Why don’t you talk to me?”
I just stared at the twins, at Masha practicing the stilts while Sergei watched. The words beat at me, but I could not say them. I looked up at his beautiful face, his black eyes.
“Why do you like me?” I blurted.
“What do you mean?” He was genuinely shocked. “Tessa, I love you. You know I love you.”
“Don’t you think I’m a freak?” I asked, without even thinking.
“Why would I love a woman I thought was a freak? What are you talking about? I don’t even think that way in the first place.”
I could feel my face flushing. “What about Clementine?” I whispered. “Isn’t she one?”
Mauro’s face eased. He laughed out loud and pulled me to him. “Eres celosa! Jealous!” He leaned back and looked at me. “Please do not be jealous of her,” he said. “That was long ago and so unimportant. Not nearly so important as what we have. I am proud of you, Tessita, how beautiful you are, how talented. You are small, sí. Perfectly so, like a piece of embroidery. Clementine was not for me. If she had been, we would have married.”
“Married?”
“But I didn’t marry her. And not because of people like the Vadalas. Because it wasn’t right; she wasn’t right for me.” I looked up at him. His face shifted and got soft. “And besides, I want to marry you.”
I was suddenly aware of the landscape outside, the lush green grass and the mountains hovering around us on all sides. I could feel the hazy summer air, the trees and grass. The sharp scent of the sawdust.
“What?” I whispered, foolishly.
Mauro cleared his throat. “I planned to do this later this week, Tessita, but now how can I wait?” He smiled. “You’re lucky I don’t trust anyone enough to keep this on the train.” He pulled a twinkling diamond ring from his pocket and slipped it on my finger. “Will you marry me?” I saw that his hands were shaking.
“Yes!” I cried. “Yes!”
The Kriminov Twins stopped and looked up at us. The lion tamer looked up. Carlos, standing near the opening of the tent with the elephant girl, looked up. So did Ana and Bici the clown and a Polish contortionist with fake yellow hair, Petra.
The whole day turned dizzy and light. Mauro leapt up the bleachers and balanced himself on the outer edge. He shifted back and forth on the ledge and shouted down, for all the big top to hear: “TESSA RILEY IS GOING TO MARRY ME! WE ARE GOING TO BE MARRIED!”
Mauro rushed down and scooped me up in his arms, then flipped