20

SHAKING OFF THE MORTAL COIL

Audiences were thin for the whole of the Perth season. Even when Zarconi’s moved to the northern beaches, the big top was never more than half full. Doc decided they’d have to head north earlier than planned.

On their last morning in Perth, Gus and Vytas went down to the beach to say goodbye to the sea. Autumn was on its way and the water was cold and bracing. Gus couldn’t get enough of it, diving deep and holding on to rocks and seaweed to keep himself underwater until his lungs could take no more. As they trudged back to the circus lot, he kept looking over his shoulder, staring hungrily at the water, soaking up his last vision of the Indian Ocean.

‘Don’t worry, little fish,’ said Vytas. ‘The desert is as wonderful as the coast. It is another kind of ocean that you must discover.’

But there was no desert at their first stop. They pitched the big top on the other side of a bridge near a bustling country town, and Vytas went into town to hand out fliers. Doc was convinced that country audiences were what they needed, but Gus still felt there was a cloud hanging over the circus. Pikkle had never returned from Circus Destructo, and Mac quit the day before they left Perth, so Doc decided he’d take the extra work on himself. It didn’t do a lot to improve his temper. He barked at everyone for the least little reason, especially at Gus.

Hannah had been trying to find opportunities for Gus and Effie to train on the trapeze but Doc seemed to be around whenever they tried to sneak into the big top. Gus kept on with his floor work and did chin-ups twice a day, trying to lay some extra muscle on his upper body but it felt like a chore without the thrill of being high above the ring.

In the late afternoon, he and Effie wandered down to the river bank and skipped smooth flat stones across the silky brown water. Gus gave up after a few goes and squatted down in the yellow mud, drawing pictures with a stick.

‘What’s the matter with you?’ asked Effie.

‘I don’t know. The curse of Zarconi’s,’ said Gus.

‘That’s my line, not yours. It’s your haircut, more likely. It’s gone all dark at the roots. It looks sick.’

‘Thanks. That really helps.’

‘I could hack it all off with a pair of scissors, if you like.’

‘Look, the hair’s the least of it. I just wish…things are getting so bad since Pikkle cleared off. He was really funky. He made me feel like things could change but now it’s just you and me and the oldies, it feels kind of hopeless. Even Mac’s gone and there’s only Stewie left and he never even says anything.’

‘Who cares? Mac was a creep. And you can’t let Pikkle shooting through get under your skin. People leave you. That happens. All the time. They piss off and do the dirty. Your big problem is you don’t have enough to worry about. Your mum’s getting better and she’s gonna come and get you in Broome and you’ll live happy ever after but what about Zarconi’s? What about Doc and Nance and Vytas? No other circus will take them on, they’re too old. Even Hannah is getting past it. And if Zarconi’s goes down the gurgler, my dad will lock me up in some convent school!’

Effie grew red in the face as she worked herself into a rage. ‘Why don’t you try and think of someone other than yourself for a change! You’ve got a job to do and you better get serious about it ’cause we don’t have much time left. You’ve got to help save this clapped-out circus, ’cause I can’t do it all by myself.’

Suddenly she shoved Gus hard in the chest, and ran. He landed in the mud, yellow river water soaking into his clothes.

‘Effie, wait,’ he called, scrambling up the river bank after her. He ran around the back of the big top but she was nowhere in sight. Then he heard her screaming. When he got to her caravan, she was standing in the doorway, sobbing, with Cas and Nance pushing past her.

‘What is it? What’s happened?’ asked Gus.

‘Lily, Lily,’ she blubbered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

‘What about Lily?’

‘She’s dead,’ wailed Effie.

Cas came outside with Lily’s body in his arms. Her forked tongue protruded from her mouth and all her taut and shimmering energy was gone. He laid her out on the dirt and everyone stood around looking down at the limp body.

‘I just went to sit down and I gave her a little push to make her move and she was all limp. She just uncoiled and fell onto the floor,’ said Effie, sniffing.

‘She was very old, Effie,’ said Cas. He put one arm around her and gave her a little hug. Effie started crying again, her nose red and runny.

Doc came over and squatted down next to the dead snake. He ran a hand along the length of her dull scales.

‘If we’re gonna stuff her, we should do it before rigor mortis sets in,’ he announced.

Effie let out a long wail and ran back into the caravan, slamming the door behind her.

‘You shouldn’t have said that, Doc,’ said Nance, disapprovingly.

‘It was only an idea. When I was a boy there was a mob that toured around here with a stuffed snake. Told everyone it was still alive and did the snake girl routine in the ring for years until the skin split and the stuffing burst out.’

‘We’d have to be on our last legs to sink to that,’ said Nance.

‘How much lower do you reckon we need to go?’ said Doc. He stood up, dusted the dirt from his hands and walked away, his big shoulders slumped and his head down.