Rain Village - Carolyn Turgeon [81]
I often watched Luis, too, imagining how things must have been for him before, when he could throw his arms out to the sides and race across the wire, or shimmy up a tree the way his brothers still did. While Lollie paced feverishly in the house and one or another of the brothers headed out into the night to meet lovers or friends, Luis always sat with his back perfectly straight, letting the breezes brush against his skin, laughing quietly, telling soft stories, and gazing every so often at Victoria as she set the table or poured a drink.
Victoria was never far from Luis’s side, even as she moved from room to room in the house, plumping up the pillows and sweeping the tile floors. No matter how busy she was, she was constantly dashing onto the terrace or one of the balconies overlooking the pool, whisking up to Luis’s side. “Are you all right, señor?” she would ask. “Would you like some more café?” He always smiled up to her graciously, and lowered his eyes when he answered.
It was impossible not to be affected by Luis’s gentlemanly manner, and it was no wonder that he received fan letters from all over the globe from women who’d heard legends of his gallantry and gentleness. Despite his injury, he seemed completely at ease in his body, though I wondered if he could feel anything below his skin—the racing of veins, the ripple of muscles, the bursts of joy or sorrow that come from deep in the body. I was fascinated by his unmoving arms and legs, his hands propped on the arms of his wheelchair like ornaments dangling from a tree.
“Do you miss it?” I asked him once, only realizing the moment I said it how rude it must have sounded.
He was unfazed. “Of course I do,” he said, looking at me, “but I can still feel the cut of the wire under my feet. That is how I tell my students what to do—I can feel their movements just by watching them, imagining myself in their place. When the world closes down on you, you must imagine it opening back up again, like a flower.”
He winked at me then, and made me blush.
“Sometimes I have felt that way,” I said shyly, “in my own body. Like it makes everything close down.”
“Before,” he said.
“Yes,” I said, “before the trapeze.”
“Your body was born to fly,” he said softly. “It is something that comes from deep in your bones, Tessa. Some people have hollowed-out bones, the kind you can play music on, and those are the people who can fly.”
What happened to him?” I asked Lollie, on one of those rare evenings when she was in a good mood. She had flung her arms around me and announced that we’d spend the evening together, that we’d carry our meat and beans to her room, lock the door, and talk the evening through.
“To Luis?” she asked, spreading out food on the tile floor and handing me my fork.
“Yes,” I said. “How did you see it? What happened?”
Her room was large and sweeping, her bed gray and discolored from all the tears that had fallen on it. A smiling picture of her and Geraldo hung over the bed. She saw me looking at it and said, “I know you must think I am crazy, Tessa, but I am sick with love. Around here all the girls dreamt of him, even the ones with diamonds hanging from their ears. You will have much better luck than I’ve had.”
I laughed, embarrassed. “I don’t think I’ll have to worry about it too much.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she answered, and leaned in toward me, smiling. “It may happen sooner than you think. Much sooner. Isn’t there someone you think about?”
My mind rushed to Mauro’s black eyes on mine, peering at me through their thick, curving lashes, and I felt my face go instantly hot with shame. “Of course not,” I said, convinced she was making fun of me.
“I know more than you know, more than you even imagine,” she said, tapping my arm playfully. “You underestimate me, but you’ll see.”
“Please tell me about Luis,” I pleaded, and felt my face burn.