My eyes travel to the cot. Beneath it Noa’s trunk and mine are lined up neatly side by side. A plan begins to form in my mind. I set Theo down on the bed, then reach for my bag to pack.
24
Noa
Watching Astrid walk back toward the cabin, I am filled with sadness. When Luc had first handed me the envelope, I had considered not giving it to Astrid. More bad news would surely break her. I could not hide the truth from her, though. And now she is leaving. I can’t blame her. I could see from the conflict in her eyes that the decision to leave us behind hadn’t come easily. She has known me and Theo only a few months—we shouldn’t matter at all, not when she has family—real family—that needs her. Part of me wants to run after her, though, and beg her not to leave me.
Luc pokes his head around the side of the shed where he has been hiding. “Wait here,” I’d instructed him before racing to hand the letter to Astrid. I did not want her to see him, but I also wasn’t ready to have him disappear and leave me so soon after we had just found each other again. Taking him in now, I feel suddenly guilty. I had lied to Astrid about how the letter had gotten here. But I could not bear to admit to her, on top of everything else, that I had broken my promise not to see Luc. “Is everything all right?” he asks.
“No,” I say. “That is, yes and no. Astrid learned that her parents are dead.”
“That’s awful,” he replies, his voice heavy with understanding. “I thought I was helping by bringing the letter.”
“You were helping,” I insist. “But how did you get it?”
“A few days ago I was in the post office when I heard a woman remark about the circus leaving suddenly. She said awful things, that the circus had taken money for shows and fled. I spoke up to tell her she was wrong. When the postmaster overheard, he said there was mail for the circus. He said he had a forwarding address, but when I saw it was a letter for Astrid, I knew I had to bring it myself. I thought maybe it was news of Peter.” His voice trails off and I can see how guilty he still feels. “Now I wish I hadn’t,” he finishes sadly.
“No, she had to know the truth,” I reply. “I’m glad you came. It wasn’t all bad. Astrid’s brother sent a pass from America. He wants her to come live with him.” My voice breaks slightly as I say this last part.
“That’s good news, isn’t it?” Luc asks, sounding confused.
A lump forms in my throat, making it hard to answer. “I suppose,” I manage, embarrassed by my selfishness. I want so very much to be happy for Astrid that she will be safe and free. “I just can’t imagine the circus without her,” I add.
There is a commotion behind us, voices as two of the acrobats walk toward the big top. Luc pulls me behind the shed so as not to be seen. “Now you can reconsider,” he says. I tilt my head, puzzled. “You said before you wouldn’t go with me because you couldn’t leave Astrid.” My mind is still reeling from everything that has happened with Astrid and I had nearly forgotten our earlier conversation. “But everything is different now.” Luc’s voice rises with urgency. “If she is going, surely you can, too?”
In the rush of the moment I had not thought about it. Luc is right, though: with Astrid gone, there will be nothing to keep me here. I can take Theo and go. Gazing up at the big top and the backyard behind it, though, I feel a tug of doubt. The circus is the only safety I have known since my parents kicked me out. I can’t imagine being here without Astrid, but I can’t imagine leaving. The circus won’t be here much longer either, I remind myself. Emmet said he was closing it down at the end of the season. Then that too will be gone.
“Noa...” Luc’s voice is heavy with concern. “Once the police realize Astrid has left, there will be questions.” There will be more than questions—Emmet will be furious at losing one of his star performers. “It won’t be safe for you here anymore. You’ll go with me now, won’t you?”
I gaze at him longingly, torn between the life I know with the circus and the possibility of a future with Luc. “Trust me,” he pleads, his eyes round and full.
I already do, a voice deep within me says. Something clicks in my mind, snaps into place. “I’ll do it. With Theo,” I add quickly.
“Of course,” Luc replies, as though that was never in doubt. Then conflict washes over his face. “But how? If we go to the partisans, there will be no place for a child.”
“I could never go without him,” I insist.
“We’ll find a way,” Luc replies, taking my hand. “All of us will stay together.” His voice is certain; Theo is his as much as mine now. I throw my arms around his neck gratefully. “So you’ll go?” His lips are on my cheek, then my neck, a thousand small kisses of persuasion.
“Yes, yes,” I cry, but a second later, I force myself to pull away. We are together in broad daylight, scarcely concealed by the budding trees. The reality sinks in: I will be leaving the circus with Luc. But before we can start a life together, I have to tell him everything. I can’t go forward under the pretense of a lie. “Luc...”
“I have to go now,” he says, not hearing me. “I have the name of a resistance contact about ten kilometers from here who can tell me the best way for us to reach the Maquis.” He looks over his shoulder. “I will be back for you before nightfall.”
“Where can I find you?” I ask.
“There’s a ravine on the other side of the stone quarry,” he replies, pointing. “About a kilometer east. I’ll meet you there at nine o’clock.”
“But the show will only be half over.”
“I know, but we have to leave then to make it safely to the Vosges forest before dawn. Can you manage it?” I nod and he kisses me and starts to go.
“Luc, wait.” He turns back. I am desperate to tell him the truth. But his face looks so hopeful, I cannot. “I will see you at nine.”
He starts off, his step light. I want to call after him again, not ready to have him go. But soon he will be back and next time I will go with him.
As I turn back toward the big top, sadness tugs at me. It is all changing. I have only just found this place, the closest I have felt to home, and I am going—again. I can’t help but wonder where it will all end and where I will be when I can finally stop running at last.
* * *
The sky is growing dusky pink as I near the dressing car to prepare for my final performance. I watch the other girls, putting on costumes and makeup as though it is any other show. I am relieved—they do not suspect anything. The difference is there, though, in the way Astrid puts on my rosin and wraps my wrists, the same as every night but with so much more care. Feeling her warm, sure touch on my forearms, I am filled with sadness once more. We will both be going in our separate directions. There was no reason to expect that we would stay together—it’s not as if we are really family. The end has come so much sooner than I expected, though. I want to confide in her about Luc and my plan to go with him. But she will never understand. I can’t just leave and not tell her, though. Perhaps a note...
The other girls have finished dressing now and are heading to the big top. But Astrid lingers. She pulls out a bag, softer than a suitcase, which I had not noticed before, tucked under one of the dressing tables. She rearranges something in the bag, which is small enough so as not to attract attention. The belongings she will take with her.
The lump in my throat reforms and grows larger. “You’ll send word, of course, to let us know you are safe?” I ask, my voice no more than a whisper. She does not answer, but nods slightly as she continues pressing down the clothes, trying to make a bit more room. Of course, I will not be here to receive her message. I will be gone and she will not even know it.
Impulsively, I reach to hug her, but she stiffens and holds me back. I flush, slapped by the rejection. “What is it?” I wonder if I have done something to anger her once more.
“I’m not going.”
/> “What do you mean? Of course you are.” For a second I wonder if she is joking, but her expression is serious, eyes somber. I prepare to remake all of the earlier arguments about how she cannot stay and how foolish it would be to waste the pass. “You’re going,” I repeat.
She shakes her head. “You are.”
I stare at her in disbelief. “I don’t understand.”
Astrid is holding out the envelope that Luc had brought. “You need the pass. To take Theo and go.”
I do not reach for it and her hand dangles in midair. “You can’t give that to me.”
“You’ll take my kennkarte,” she continues. “The photo is not that good. If you dye your hair, keep your head low, no one will know you aren’t me. And you will be able to take a child on the papers.”
“You can’t be serious.” I step around her to the bag she has been packing, rummage through. Beneath a thin layer of her own clothes are Theo’s cloth diapers and spare booties. She has been planning this all along.
Then she holds out the pass to me once more. “You must leave tonight, just before the show ends. There’s a train station, not the one we arrived at but another, about fifteen kilometers south. You will take the train to Lisbon and get the pass at the consulate.” She makes it all sound so straightforward, like going into town for bread. “Then use Erich’s money to buy a ticket...” She continues on with her instructions, but I do not hear. Luc’s face appears in my mind. I am supposed to be going with him, starting a life together.
Noticing the hesitation on my face, she stops midsentence. “What is it?” she demands impatiently, as if I am questioning her judgment on an aerial routine.
The pass is Astrid’s one chance at survival. And she is willing to give it all up for me. “I won’t take it,” I say. “Staying here as a Jew is suicide.”
“Exactly. Which is why you need to take Theo and go.”
“The pass is yours. You have to use it,” I persist, standing up to her more than I ever have.
“I’ve thought it all through,” she replies, undeterred. “This is for the best. It’s the only option.”
“There’s another way.” I take a deep breath. “Just take Theo. That way you will both be safe.” The words scratch my throat like shards of glass. I could give her Theo and then they would both be safe. But letting go of him would kill me.
“No, Theo belongs with you,” Astrid insists. “You’re the one who must go.”
I am going, I think. With Luc. But of course Astrid does not know this. She is willing to give everything for me. And I am still lying to her.
“Astrid,” I say slowly, “I am going.”
“I don’t understand,” she says, her forehead knotting. “You just said you won’t take the pass. So how can you possibly leave?”
“No, but Luc...” I start.
“Him again?” she cuts me off, eyes narrowing. “The mayor’s son. What does he have to do with anything?”
“He’s here, in Alsace.” Storm clouds seem to form in her eyes. “He brought the letter here from your brother,” I add, hoping that it will help. But I can tell from the fury in her eyes that it hasn’t.
“You promised, no, swore to me, that you wouldn’t see him again,” she flares. “Yet you did, even after everything he cost me.”
“I didn’t... That is, I didn’t mean to,” I protest weakly. Then I stop, unwilling to lie again. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. Luc’s going to the Maquis.” I wonder if this will make her respect him more.
But her anger does not seem to soften. “Then good for him.” Good riddance, is what her tone really seems to say. “And safe journey,” she adds, without warmth. I feel myself growing angry at Astrid. Luc tried to help Peter, risked his own life to bring her the letter from Jules. And yet for everything he has done for us, she still cannot allow herself to accept him. She hates him for who he is. She will never see him differently. “I still don’t see what that has to do with you taking the pass,” she adds.
“Luc has gone to make contact with the resistance and then he is coming back. He wants me to go with him.” There is silence, Astrid staring at me in stunned disbelief. “And Theo,” I add. “Luc wants to care for him, as well.”
“When?” she asks finally.
“Tonight.”
“So you were going to leave with him without telling me? You were just going to sneak off.”
“I was going to go after you had gone,” I say, as if this somehow makes things better. “I’m sorry.”
“You were going to take Theo, where exactly?” she demands. “You would have no shelter or a transit pass or even decent papers. There’s no place for a child, no one to watch him there for you. What were you planning to do, carry him as you run around the forest with the partisans?” As she ticks off all of the failures in my plan, now laid bare, I see all of the things that Luc and I hadn’t thought through in the rush of the moment.
“We’ll manage,” I say stubbornly.
“Well, that doesn’t matter anymore,” Astrid declares. “You have the pass now and you are leaving.”
I try again. “Surely leaving with Luc would be safer than going alone.”
Astrid shakes her head firmly. “Getting to Lisbon and out of Europe would be safest. You must be strong on your own now. You have to do what is best for Theo.” She holds out the pass again, as if it is all decided.
I start to take the envelope. Then I hesitate, seeing Luc and a life together waiting for us. I hand it back. “No,” I say, hearing the strength in my voice, deciding for myself now. My future is with Luc. And if I go with him, Astrid will take the pass. That way we both have a chance.
Her eyes widen with surprise. “How dare you? I’ve offered you everything, and you want to give it up for some boy?”
“It isn’t that simple...” I begin.
“I’m telling you one last time: Take the pass and go.” She holds it out to me, her voice cold as steel. The space between us seems to grow.
I look at Astrid, wavering. Going with Luc against her wishes now will surely be the final break. Once I would have done whatever Astrid had asked, done anything for her approval. But something had changed these last days. I’ve been the one who has had to take care of Astrid, make decisions for her, for all of us really. I can’t simply listen anymore. I have to do what I think best.
“I’m sorry,” I say, stepping back.
Her eyes widen with surprise then narrow again with anger. Then she turns away.
“Astrid, wait,” I say, trying again. If only I can make her understand. But she stalks off, leaving me alone.
In the distance, the bell rings, signaling the audience to their seats. And beckoning us, one last time, to the air.
25
Noa
So it is to be the last show.
Tears stream down my own cheeks now as the opening music builds to a crescendo and the house lights dim. What’s wrong with me? I thought I wanted this, to leave the circus and find a path to freedom for myself and Theo and have a future with Luc. But I’ve just found this life and have only just learned to love it. I am not ready to go.
“Aerialists—trapeze!” someone calls. I step into the big top, looking for Astrid. I do not see her and I wonder if she is so angry that she will refuse to perform with me. But a moment later she appears from the opposite side of the tent and starts toward the ring, jaw clenched. I hesitate. How can we perform as a team when she is furious with me? The audience waits in the darkness, though, expecting and unaware. There is no other choice.
I climb the ladder opposite Astrid and grab the bar. “Hup!” she calls, voice seething. I fly through the air toward her. As I release, I see it, the rage—no, the hurt and betrayal—in her eyes. Her hands do not reach for mine. She wants to miss, to fail me as I had her. Falling h
ere would not be as it had been when we were in the winter quarters, or even the previous village. The net has been poorly erected and the ground below is rock hard. If I fall here, I will die. I close my eyes as I start to plunge downward, away from her.
Then something grabs my ankles hard. Astrid, saving me against her own will. But she is a beat too late and has grabbed the thin part of my instep rather than my ankle, making it impossible for her to hang on. I am slipping through her fingers. Desperately Astrid flings me in the direction of the bar for the return, with none of her usual precision. She throws me so hard that I somersault through the air. The audience cheers, mistaking near miss for a daring new feat.
My arms find the bar. I swing back to the board and clamber up clumsily. As I straighten, I want to end the act there. This has already gone too far. But Astrid waits on the opposite platform, commanding me to finish what we have started. “Hup!”
Before I can answer, there is a boom, followed by rumbling and a louder thud. We exchange nervous glances, the anger between us forgotten for a moment. Air raids are nothing new; they have come since the start of the war, first by the Germans to weaken countries they wanted to occupy and more recently by the Allies on German territories. They come in crude bold strokes, not caring who might be in the way. Since our return to Alsace they have come almost daily. But this is the first time it has happened during the show. The tent has to be the biggest building outside town—might it make a good target from the air?
There comes another rumbling, closer this time. A few guests flee their seats for the exits as sawdust and plaster shake from the tent poles like snow. The big top offers no protection at all. Perhaps we should end the show and have everyone return home. My eyes lock with Astrid’s. Keep performing, her gaze commands. We can’t afford to start giving out the refunds that the crowds would surely demand if we canceled the rest of the show. My hands shake as I reach for the bar and another explosion threatens to send me falling. But I clasp on tighter. One more pass is all that stands between me and freedom. “Hup!” I fly through the air and Astrid catches me, then sends me back for a final time.