The gasp from the audience was incredulous, almost comical in its abject horror. Somehow it made everything seem even more unreal. Emily clutched at her throat, as if clawing for air but none seemed to be making it to her lungs. The air seemed hazy around her as if she was in a dream and not in the ring with Claude nuzzling at her gently, clearly wondering why she wasn’t getting up to finish the act. She tried to reach out and pet his soft nose, to fondle his long ears, to reassure him that she was alright. But, he seemed so far away too.
“Emily, Emily!” Marcus the ring master cried as he rushed to her side. She turned to see the look of concern in his eyes and knew that something terrible had happened. “Stay completely still. Don’t move. Claude, damn you, get away from her you stupid ass.” Emily watched as Marcus tethered her beloved donkey away from her. He was probably right, but she wanted to tell him not to be so impatient with him. Claude was her family, as much a part of her as her long copper hair, or her flashing green eyes – and like them he was one of such a few things that she had left from her flamboyant and generous Papa.
She drifted away, remembering the wonderful childhood she had enjoyed. Being a circus child wasn’t always fun, but for her it had been. Her parents had an Act. They were a big name in the circus world and people travelled from miles around when the circus was in town to see them and their bareback horses doing their tricks. Mama would ride, dressed in the most glorious of costumes, performing tricks while Papa would bounce from horse to horse, as if trying to chase her down and claim her as his own. Their acrobatic skills, their horsemanship and their dedication to one another had made for a heady mix. The crowds adored them. Their popularity had led them here, to Boston, to become a part of a Circus that never travelled. The giant arena was a permanent structure – yet it appeared to be just like the big tops of the travelling shows. Every night of the year it was full of the very best performers in the country: clowns and acrobats, aerialists and sharp shooters, magicians and novelty acts. It had meant that the little family had been able to set down some roots, and that she and her older brother, Evan, had been able to go to school.
Emily had so longed to be like them, but it had become clear very early on that she would never become a part of their Act unlike Evan who had inherited all their grace and skill. She simply wasn’t able to emulate them no matter how hard she tried. She could do the tricks, and she loved the ponies, but she simply didn’t fit the smoothly executed and almost balletic style they embodied. But, then Papa had found Claude. He was an abandoned pit donkey, and had been nothing but skin and bones. But, she had adored him from their very first meeting. He was clever and gentle, but he had a wickedly cheeky nature and that had given her an idea. In secret she had begun to practice the tricks she had learned from Papa, but aiming to be even more ungainly and clumsy. Their partnership was the antidote to the glamour of her parents’ Act, and their antics never failed to make the crowds laugh. But, it seemed that this time she might just have gone too far.
“Emily, stay with me now. Wake up. The doctor is on his way.” She opened her eyes to see Mama gazing down at her, tears in her eyes. She was in bed, at home. She wondered how long she had been unconscious. She couldn’t deny that every bit of her hurt, she had never had such a fall. Emily tried to speak, she needed to know that Claude was alright, but the words wouldn’t come. But Mama knew her so well, knew her agitation would never be for her own welfare. “Baby girl, don’t you worry, Claude is in his stall. Evan is taking care of him for you.” She relaxed. Her brother was just like Papa, he had a way with animals that put them at their ease and he would reassure Claude. The daft old creature would pine without her, but Evan would make sure he didn’t suffer too badly.
A smart looking man in a dark morning coat entered the room, and began bustling around her. “She should not have been moved.” He huffed, and looked at Mama in a condescending manner. “It could have caused damage to her spine.”
“We know what we are doing Dr Bright,” Mama said firmly. “We may be circus folk, but we have been caring for our own for generations. I doubt there is much we don’t know about how to care for someone after a fall – they happen almost daily after all.” Emily wanted to chuckle, but it was too painful. Mama was tiny, under five feet, but what she lacked in size she had always more than made up for in force of will. “We immobilized her as best we could and as you can see she is still strapped to the boards we used. I am sure she would appreciate your speedy assessment so we can take her from them so she can be a little more comfortable.”
“Your ingenuity is impressive,” the pompous doctor opined, “though possibly a little over zealous. But, always best to be cautious.” He prodded and poked at her limbs, making Emily cry out. “Well, it would seem she still has sensation everywhere,” he admitted. “She has a few broken ribs, a lot of bruising, a broken arm and leg, and her left foot is crushed.”
“But will she heal?”
“Yes, but I don’t think that was what you really wished to ask. I think your question was will she be able to perform again.”
“You are right,” Mama said impatiently. “That is what I was asking. I am a heartless fiend who only wants to see my daughter in the ring risking her life. Dr Bright, I can assure you that I only wished to know if she would heal. If I had wished to know anything else then I would have asked that.” It often amused Emily that Mama was the only member of the family who was not a red head – yet she was the owner of the infamous red-headed temperament. Papa had been the most easygoing of men, and Evan and herself were both very calm, despite their shocks of copper bright hair.
“I’m sorry, I am sure. But, maybe she might wish to know what her future may hold, even if you do not?” the doctor added waspishly. “I think it unlikely that she will ever be able to undertake her tricks in the ring, though I am sure she may prove me wrong – especially if she has even half the fire of her Mama. I’ll deliver my bill to the circus. Good day.”
“What an absolutely horrible man!” Mama exclaimed as he swept from the room. Emily could only manage a weak smile. He may not have delivered the news in a caring manner, but it didn’t change it. She would be unlikely to make a full recovery, may never be able to vault onto Claude’s back again pretending to be intoxicated, or to fall from him and ride him upside down, clutching at his belly, her head only an inch or so from the sawdust beneath. She would probably have to accept that they may never make people laugh and smile at their antics ever again. She could feel the tears building inside her, the pain of that was overwhelming – far more so than the physical pain she was in. To be without an Act in the circus was to be no-one. She had worked so hard to find her niche, to build her place in this world. She had always known she would never command audiences as her Mama and Papa had done, and how Evan and Mama now continued to do, that she had her place in the show here because of who they were, and not entirely because of her own talents - but she was a good performer, and she simply didn’t know how to do anything else.
“Mama,” she managed to croak. “Mama, I’m tired.”
“I know. Here, take some of the laudanum he left you, you’ll be in dreamless sleep in no time my darling.” Emily accepted the carefully measured drops her Mama gave her on a spoon, and was glad to feel the sleepy nothingness begin to overwhelm her. “You can do anything you want to,” she heard her Mama say, as if she was a million miles away and not right beside her. “Doctors aren’t always right, remember that.”
The sun was streaming brightly into her room when Emily awoke. Mama was snoozing in the chair beside her, a newspaper clutched in her hand, about to fall to the floor. She looked like a tiny china doll. Emily had often wondered how someone so slight could be so very strong in every way, but she was indomitable. Even when Papa had passed away Mama had been stoical. Emily couldn’t ever remember seeing her cry, yet today there were undeniable streaks in her stage makeup that she still had not removed - streaks that told Emily of the tears that had been shed on her behalf. She remembered the doctor’s words, and wondered what on earth she would do if he was right and her own tears began to fall too.
“Oh Emily, don’t cry,” Mama said waking as she heard her sobs.
“I can’t help it. It just all seems too much,” she admitted.
“Just concentrate on healing for now my darling, we can worry about everything else later.”
“I know, but I can’t seem to get it out of my mind. Maybe if I were to read, or do something to take my mind off my woes?” she suggested hopefully.
“Here, take my newspaper, I’ll get you some novels to read from the lending library.”
“You may want to get changed and take off your makeup before you go anywhere,” Emily teased weakly.
“You may be right, and if you can still joke there is always hope.” Mama smiled as she left the room. Emily wondered whether she would be able to keep up the pretense that she could cope with this. She had no desire to be a burden to her family, and knew that Major Cranhorn would not tolerate having an Act that did not pull its weight. His Circus was run like an army battalion, and there was no room for either her or Claude if they could not be in the ring night after night.
Emily pulled herself upright as best she could, she found the newspaper a little difficult to manage with her sore arm, and the throbbing pain in her chest from her broken ribs, but she persevered. She had to think about something other than what might be her future. But, she was unable to forget even for a moment. There was an article about her accident, and it made her cringe to read about the moment that had changed her life forever. It sounded so fantastical, as if it couldn’t possibly be real. One of the lions had a bad tooth, and he had been cranky for days, but he had chosen the moment when Emily had been leaping through a hoop of fire to let his indignation be fully known. Claude had panicked at the sound of the bellowing roar coming from behind the scenes and had bolted. Emily had been distracted, hadn’t prepared for the fall. It sounded so foolish in black and white, not anything that could take away a person’s entire career and yet it just might do so.
There was little else to interest her in the pages and so she cautiously turned to the Matrimonials page. It had always amused her to think that people would place an advertisement to find a husband or a wife, and she loved to try and imagine what the people behind the words might be like. Evan thought she was crazy, her Mama knew her to be a romantic. She had always dreamed of being swept off her feet by some glamorous man with a great Act, but now she looked at those advertisements through different eyes. This may be her only chance now, the only way she may find peace. If she couldn’t be in the Circus she was sure she couldn’t bear to be around it, a reminder of all she had lost. But a husband in the West could be a new start.
A number of them intrigued her, but one in particular stood out. They had travelled through the West when she was a girl, before the permanent job here in Boston. She remembered Montana as a beautiful place, and she was sure she could be happy there. But it wasn’t just where this gentleman came from that she felt drawn to.
A Gentleman of Montana seeks a woman with a view to matrimony. She must be patient and kind, and love children as the subscriber is the father of a young boy who is bright and honest and in need of a Mother. A love of theatre and the arts would be ideal, and some interest in running a good home a benefit. The subscriber has grand plans, and someone to encourage him would be most preferred. Replies to Box 452 The Boston Globe
Emily read the words with fascination. Well, she had never been to an actual theatre in her life, but she had seen opera singers and plays put on in the Ring all the time. She loved children, and was usually good with them. She wasn’t the best housekeeper, but she could learn and she could definitely encourage someone to be the best they could be. She would contact him as soon as she could, though she did not know how she would manage to do so without her Mama or Evan finding out. “Miss Wilkins, I’ve brought you some hot chocolate from your Mama,” Maisie their maid said as she bustled into the room. Emily smiled, Maisie would be perfect. She was the most discrete person she had ever known, and more of a romantic than Emily herself.