WATER FOR ELEPHANT [102]
He walks back to the vanity and rests the cane against it. Then he leans over and peers into the mirror. He pushes the hair that’s fallen over his forehead back into place and then smoothes it with his palm. Then he freezes, his hand still at his forehead. “Peek-a-boo,” he says, looking at our reflections. “I see you.”
Marlena’s horrified face looks back at me from the mirror.
August turns and picks up Rosie’s pink sequined headpiece. “And that’s the trouble, isn’t it? I see you. You think I don’t, but I do. This was a nice touch, I must admit,” he says, turning the shimmering headpiece over in his hands. “The devoted wife, hiding away in a closet, sewing up a storm. Or was it a closet? Maybe it was right here. Or maybe you went to that whore’s tent. Whores look after each other, don’t they?” He looks at me. “So, where did you do it, eh, Jacob? Where, exactly, have you fucked my wife?”
I take Marlena’s elbow. “Come on. Let’s go,” I say.
“Aha! So you don’t even deny it!” he screams. He clutches the headpiece in white-knuckled fists and pulls, screaming through gritted teeth, until a split zigzags across it.
Marlena shrieks. She drops the flutes and claps a hand to her mouth.
“You whore!” August screams. “You slut. You mangy bitch!” With each epithet, he rips the headpiece further.
“August!” Marlena screams, stepping forward. “Stop it! Stop it!”
The noise seems to shock him, because he stops. He looks at her and blinks. He looks at the headpiece. Then he looks back at her, confused.
After a pause of several seconds, Marlena steps forward. “Auggie?” she says tentatively. She looks up at him, her eyes beseeching. “Are you all right now?”
August stares at her, baffled, as though he’s simply awakened and found himself here. Marlena approaches slowly. “Darling?” she says.
His lower jaw moves. His forehead crumples, and the headpiece falls to the ground.
I think I’ve stopped breathing.
Marlena steps right up to him. “Auggie?”
He looks down at her. His nose twitches. Then he shoves her so violently she crashes back onto the overturned platters and food. He takes one long step forward, leans down, and tries to rip the necklace from her throat. The clasp holds, so he ends up dragging her by the neck as she screams.
I launch across the open space and tackle him. Rosie roars behind me as August and I fall backward onto broken plates and spilled gravy. First I’m on top of him, pounding his face. Then he’s on top of me, cuffing me in the eye. I buck him off and yank him to his feet.
“Auggie! Jacob!” shrieks Marlena. “Stop!”
I shove him backward, but he grabs my lapels and so we crash into the vanity together. I am vaguely aware of tinkling as the mirror disintegrates around us. August thrusts me away, and we grapple in the center of the tent.
We roll around, grunting, so close I can feel his breath on my face. Now I’m on top of him, landing punches. Now he’s on top of me, banging my head against the ground. Marlena is hovering, screaming at us to stop, but we can’t. Or at least I can’t—all the rage and pain and frustration of the past few months is channeled into my fists.
Now I’m facing the overturned table. Now I’m facing Rosie, who is pulling her leg chain and bellowing. Now we’re standing up again, grasping at each other’s collars and lapels, both blocking and landing blows. Eventually we fall against the entrance flap and land in the middle of the crowd that has gathered outside.
Within seconds, I’m hauled off, pinioned by Grady and Bill. For a moment, August looks as though he’s going to come after me, but then the expression on his mashed face shifts. He climbs to his feet and calmly dusts himself off.
“You’re crazy. Crazy!” I scream.
He observes me coolly, straightens his sleeves, and goes back into the tent.
“Let me go,” I plead, jerking my head around first to Grady and then to Bill.