Entwined Page 21

  Lazars opened more beer, and gulped half a bottle before he continued. “Then, my friend, my eyes were opened. You ever seen France’s Circus Archaos? You seen it?”

  Grimaldi shrugged. “Yeah, but it’s not everyone’s taste!”

  “They got chainsaws, punks, Mad Max, and fire! Rock music—it’s new, its exciting!”

  “Bullshit. What kids want to see clowns in dirty mackintoshes and rubber boots, Bull shit!!”

  Lazars banged the table. “No, you are wrong, my friend. They have some of the finest performers. The heart of their circus are the jugglers and the trapeze artists. The shows have all been updated, they cater to the new audience, the kids, the teenagers that don’t want to see fucking bears pedal bikes, chimps, like Boris, forced to become entertainers. They see through it, they know it’s a fucking lie! You train a dog to sit and you’ve got to use force. Animals are no longer wanted.”

  “Bullshit! Don’t give me this arty-farty crap about the French. They tried an animal-free circus in England and it flopped belly up, nobody came. You stand by the box office and you hear every other caller ask: What animals? They come for the animals!”

  “No, not anymore. Luis, they see with their own eyes, they see man trying to prove he is top dog! They see man only wanting to dominate other species. They see the tragic animals hemmed into their cages, they see…”

  “I should get back!” Grimaldi tried to stand up, and slumped back into his chair again.

  Lazars took no notice, and handed him another bottle. “So, how is Ruda? She’s come a long way, she’s queen now, huh?”

  Grimaldi nodded, and Lazars began to reminisce about the time when Grimaldi himself was a big star attraction. They swapped stories, recalling past glories…the two massive men seated on either side of the small table in the filthy cluttered kitchen. They laughed, they slapped each other’s shoulders, and plowed their way through the crate of beer.

  Suddenly they fell silent, caught up in their own private memories.

  The first time Grimaldi had seen Ruda was with Lazars; Grimaldi was with a group of performers having a night out. He was drunk that night, had been drinking for the best part of the evening when they all stumbled to the basement club.

  The city was bombed out. Abject poverty was everywhere, the only escape was in drink. The people were dazed, hungry; the aftermath of the terrible war hung like a sickening cloud. Memories of prewar times, of affluence, of dreams were pushed roughly aside; living and being alive was all that mattered, surviving the only priority.

  Grimaldi had money then, one of the few who had. He was a young boy of fifteen when the war started, and had gone with his father to the United States, where his father died. It was in America that Luis learned his two brothers had been killed on the Russian front. He built up the act, and was one of the first performers to return to Europe after the war. It was the mid-fifties, and word had spread that young Luis Grimaldi was someone to watch. Those he was out with that night had all seen his performance, and everyone was slapping his back, toasting him. Then Ruda and the old magician had appeared on the cabaret stage in a puff of pitiful green smoke. This elicited general catcalls and yells, and a bottle was hurled at the old man while he attempted to continue the act.

  The audience was called to attention by a taped drumroll. The old man asked for the patrons’ participation. He was greeted with whistles and lewd remarks. Dressed in cheap black bra and panties, with laddered black tights and high-heeled shoes, Ruda appeared disinterested in her own performance, passing the tubes and hoops with a half-hearted smile on her face.

  The magician had drawn from various pockets small silk handkerchiefs, red, blue, green. With great showmanship he had thrown them into the air, and urged the audience to hide the silks. Grimaldi’s friends took a bunch of the squares, blew their noses with them, and tossed them aside, while Grimaldi tucked one into his right boot.

  Ruda stood impassive, her head half turned from the blinding spotlights. Now the magician slipped a thick black blindfold around her eyes.

  He began to thread his way through the audience. Ruda, in a low monotone, named the colors as each was retrieved.

  “Red, blue, red, red, red, blue, green, red, blue, green…”

  At one point she seemed ahead of the magician as the colored squares were caught and held aloft. She turned her head slightly as if listening, and yet kept reciting the colors. The audience had grown quiet, caught up in the act as the old man worked the club, gathering the squares; at times he had his back to her, it was impossible for her to cheat.

  He stepped in front of Grimaldi. “Red…”

  Grimaldi shrugged his shoulders, smiling, denying that he had hidden a square.

  “Red…”

  They had all cheered as he retrieved the red silk square from his boot.

  Grimaldi and his friends had continued on to another club. It was almost dawn when Grimaldi hailed a taxi to go home. While waiting he saw her, standing on a street corner. She was still wearing her costume, but now she had an old brown thin coat around her shoulders. He saw her stop two men, and then shrug her shoulders as they moved on.

  The taxi pulled up and Grimaldi got inside, the cab did a U-turn, coming to her side. She stared dull-eyed at the cab, and then stepped forward. Grimaldi wound down his window, about to say he had seen her act, when she stuck her head in the car and asked, “Do you want a blow job?” He shook his head, but she hung on.

  “You can name your price!”

  Grimaldi asked the driver to move on, but she still clung to the window. “Oh, it’s you. It was in your fucking boot. You like to make people look like shit?…Fuck you!”

  Grimaldi shouted for the driver to stop. He got out. She backed away from him, afraid. But he smiled and complimented her.

  “You know, that was quite good. You should get rid of that old man, work up a real act, you’re good! It has to be some kind of trick, but it works.”

  She hung back, pressing herself against the wall until he returned to the taxi and drove off. But the following morning she was there, hanging around his trailer.

  “I’m looking for work.”

  Grimaldi had brushed her off, but nothing deterred her. She came by every day. He would give her a little money, get rid of her, but she still turned up. He would find her sitting on his steps, no matter what the weather, waiting; asking for a job, or peddling a blow job, masturbation. He ordered one of the stewards to keep her out, but she came back. If she wasn’t hanging around his trailer, she would be waiting by the cages. She was always there, always in the same worn brown coat, and always hungry.

  Grimaldi had been having an affair with a very attractive Italian trapeze artist. She screamed at him to get rid of the whore. He then became nasty with Ruda, physically shoving her away. Still, she came back.

  There were only a few more days left on his contract before he was to travel on, and so he had given in. He became more pleasant, asked where she came from, if she had a home. She would shrug her shoulders. Then he did a foolish thing, seeing her huddled outside his trailer in pouring rain; he had asked her inside.

  Once inside, she showed genuine interest in his photographs and reviews. He offered to take her coat, but she refused, sitting in the sodden coat, smoking.

  “Will you take me with you when you go?”

  He had laughed, saying this was impossible. He was going to Austria, then on to Switzerland, crossing back to Italy and then, he hoped, America.

  She offered to be a groom, sweep, do anything. He had told her she would have to be hired by the circus bosses.

  The next day, he found her sitting in his trailer. He chucked her out, but after his show she was back. Exasperated by her persistence, he said that if she had the right papers, passport and visas, he would see what he could do with the circus boss.

  Later that night she came back, tapping on his window. He shouted for her to get the hell away, but she kept on tapping a
nd in the end he had opened the door.

  “Look, I said I don’t want you around. If you got the papers leave them. I’ll see what I can do, now go…”

  Brazenly, she had walked past him into the small bedroom, taking off her filthy coat. She had on the black brassiere, black panties with a garter belt. The stockings were even more laddered.

  “I’ve got someone with me, okay? Whatever you have to say, make it quick.”

  “I got no papers, I need you to help me, I need money.”

  He laughed at her audacity.

  “My husband won’t let me have any money.”

  “Your husband?”

  “Yeah, the old man, I work for him, it’s his act, you know, the magic man?”

  Grimaldi hitched up the small towel around his waist. “Like I said, part of the act—the part with the colored silk squares—you should work it up. I mean I don’t know what the signals are, but it’s good.”

  “Signals? What do you mean?”

  “Well, how you do it, how you get the colors in the right order, and so fast.”

  “Oh…that’s no trick, that’s just something I can do. I can do that easy, ever since I was a kid.” She was looking around, peering into his bedroom.

  “Well, it’s good. The old guy’s not so good, though. You should get a new partner.”

  Suddenly she was in his arms, coiled around him. She pinched his cheek with her finger and thumb. “You lied, there’s no bloody woman here.”

  He didn’t want to kiss her, or even touch her, but he stood there and let her go down on him. He let her take him in the middle of his trailer.

  When it was over, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

  “That was for free! I’m going now.”

  He had felt guilty, and had thrust some money into her pocket.

  She took out the bills and counted them, and then she had looked up and smiled. He had never seen her smile before.

  “Next time I come, I’ll have a visa, you can take me with you then. My name is Ruda…R U D A, you won’t forget, will you? Thanks for the money.”

  He left the next day, but he didn’t forget her—five years later when she turned up again, he recognized her immediately. It was in Florida; she was accompanied by her husband, Tommy Kellerman.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Grimaldi woke up, he had no idea where he was. His head throbbed so hard he couldn’t lift it. He felt something warm and hairy curled by his side, and as he lifted the stinking blanket he saw Boris’s face.

  “Whoop…Whoop.”

  Grimaldi let the blanket fall back over the chimp. Loud snoring was coming from across the room. In the darkness he could just make out the sleeping Lazars, his legs propped up on the table, his head on his chest, still sitting in his chair.

  Grimaldi cursed. How in God’s name had he got here? He couldn’t remember. He sighed, and the strong hairy arm patted his chest gently. He inched up the blanket again, and the round bright button eyes blinked.

  “What time is it, eh?”

  Grimaldi tried to sit up—but slumped back again. Better to sleep it off, he doubted if he could stand up anyway.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Ruda was wakened by a bang at the trailer door. She lifted the blinds, and saw a bedraggled Tina waiting outside.

  “What do you want?”

  Tina peered through the window. “Is he here? I can’t pay the taxi…he took my handbag. Let me in!”

  Ruda put on an old wrap, stuffed her feet into worn slippers. She got her wallet and opened the trailer door.

  “You know what time it is? How much do you need?”

  Tina was red-eyed from crying. “He just left me, he took my bag.”

  Ruda laughed. ‘That’s my husband! Here, take this.”

  “Is he back? Did he come back?”

  Ruda shook her head, about to close the door, her hand on her hip.

  T can’t get into my trailer, the girls lock the door.”

  “What do you expect me to do?”

  “Can I come back, after I’ve paid him?”

  Ruda shrugged and left the door ajar, then returned to the bedroom and closed the door. She heard Tina enter, followed by the clink of cutlery. She stormed out. “Eh! What do you think you’re doing?”

  “I was making a cup of tea.”

  “Oh were you? Don’t you think it would have been polite to ask? You wake me up, get money out of me, and now start banging around in my kitchen. You’ve got nerve, a lot of nerve.”

  “I’m sorry, do you want one?”

  Ruda hesitated. “Yeah, white, one sugar.”

  Ruda got back into her bed, turned on the bedside light. It was after four; she leaned back, listening to the girl banging around searching for the tea, then she heard the rattle of teacups and her door inched open. Tina had a tray with two cups and a pot of tea, she’d got sugar and biscuits. She poured Ruda’s cup, spooned in the sugar, then stirred it carefully.

  Ruda took the cup, watching Tina pour her own, then she laughed softly. “Well isn’t this cozy? You fancy keeping the baby in my room, do you? Little pink elephants on the curtains, frilly crib, white baby wardrobes?”

  Tina edged to sit on a small stool in front of Ruda’s dressing table. “I got really frightened, he was with me one minute and the next he just disappeared. He’s got my handbag, my money, my cards, checkbook—everything. I’m worried about him, do you think he’ll be all right?”

  Ruda opened her bedside drawer, took out a bar of chocolate, breaking it into pieces. She sucked on a large piece, not offering Tina any. Tina took a biscuit and nibbled it. “I mean, he had been drinking.”

  Ruda said nothing, kept on staring at Tina.

  “Actually, I wanted to talk to you, Ruda. Is it all right if I call you Ruda?”

  Ruda took another bite of chocolate, and sipped her tea. She found it amusing to watch the stupid little bitch squirming.

  “I know he’s talked to you about the baby, and we’ve never really spoken, he said you’d agreed to a divorce.”

  Ruda licked her mouth, leaving a dark brown chocolate stain.

  “I know how much the act means to you. I was watching you in rehearsal, I mean I was really impressed. I don’t know all that much about training, but…”

  “Impressed! Well, I am flattered.” Ruda held out her cup for more tea, and Tina scuttled to the tray and poured, spooned in more sugar, and then started for the door.

  “I don’t want any milk, never have milk in the second cup, thank you.”

  Ruda smiled, and Tina sat down on the edge of the bed.

  “I love him.”

  “You love him. How old are you?”

  “Age doesn’t matter.”

  “Doesn’t it?”

  “No, and I think I can make him happy. He’s really excited about the baby.”

  “Is it his?”

  Tina flushed. “That’s a terrible thing to say. Of course it’s his.”

  Ruda slowly put her cup down and leaned forward. Tina backed slightly, and then allowed Ruda to take her hand.

  “What tiny little hands you’ve got, let me see your palm. Oh yes, really interesting, my my! What a lifeline.”

  Tina moved closer, allowing Ruda to press and feel her open palm. “Do you believe in that stuff? I think it’s all mumbo-jumbo.”

  Suddenly Ruda gripped Tina’s hand so hard it hurt, but she continued smiling, as if she were joking. “And I think everything you say is a load of crap—you little prick teaser. You don’t love Luis. You don’t love that big bloated old man, that drunken has-been, you want…”

  Tina tried to draw her hand away, but Ruda held her in a viselike grip, pulling her closer and closer…and then, there was no smile. Ruda’s face twisted with anger, and with her free hand she punched Tina’s belly, pummeled it as if it were a lump of dough. Tina twisted and tried to break herself free. She started screaming—terrified, trying to p
rotect her womb.

  Ruda hauled Tina almost on top of herself. Tina kicked out with her legs, but Ruda dragged her closer, and covered her mouth. Tina could feel Ruda’s body beneath her, and she twisted again, tried to turn.

  “Don’t struggle or I’ll break your neck.”

  Tina began to cry, her body went limp. She knew she couldn’t fight, Ruda was too strong.

  “Promise not to cry out? Promise me?…Promise!”

  Ruda jerked Tina so hard she gasped. “I promise! I promise! Just don’t hurt me, don’t hurt my baby, please…”

  “If you scream or cry out, then I will hurt you, maybe even kill you.” Slowly Ruda released her grip, easing Tina from her, and then rolled off, and leaned up on one elbow. She smiled down into the frightened girl’s face. Tina was like a rabbit caught in a poacher’s beam of light. Her eyes were wide, startled, and terrified. She was transfixed, unable to move, too scared to cry out. Now Ruda’s strong hands stroked and caressed, with knowing assurance, gently easing down Tina’s skirt to feel between her legs, her voice soft and persuasive, a half-whispered monotone, hardly audible.

  “On nights when they held their entertainments, when they had their drinks, their music, we knew we were safe for one or two hours. We’d hear the laughter, we’d hear the singing, the applause, the shouting…”

  Ruda unbuttoned Tina’s blouse, cupping the heavy breasts in their white lace brassiere. Her skin felt soft, so soft. Ruda had an overwhelming desire to hold Tina, as if she was some long-forgotten lover she wanted to protect. She no longer frightened her, she knew that, and she cradled Tina in her arms, drawing her closer, her lips close to Tina’s face. She gave gentle, almost sweet kisses to her neck, to her ears. Tina felt the sadness sweep over her like a wave, a terrible sadness. She could not stop herself giving in return a childlike kiss to Ruda’s neck. “Where were you?” Tina asked hesitantly, unsure what was happening, why it was happening.