Chapter 18: The Godfather of Circus
"So, what are you going to do about Maria?"
"I guess there are a lot of mutants in the circus." Said James as he and Wolfgang climbed up to the top of the empty bleachers.
"Not as many as you would think." Wolfgang said, sitting down next to James. "It's too high profile, most mutants don't want the exposure. In fact, the Elf is the only one I know of for sure. But, he's high profile all the time so I suppose it doesn't matter."
"You call Kurt an elf" James asked.
"It's the ears." Wolfgang said, pointing to his own ear and miming an imaginary point at the end of it with his fingers.
James laughed. "I guess you're right. Did he always look like that?"
"Yeah. Margali, his foster mother, has an album of photos. Whenever they took publicity photos of the performers, she paid the photographer a little extra to do a family portrait. There are a few pictures of Kurt as a baby. He looks exactly the same." Wolfgang pictured the portraits in his mind; they contained such warmth, the family in close contact, relaxed and smiling. They were so different from the stiff painted portraits in his parents' home.
Laurentiu Wolleck entered the tent and waved to them.
"Ist es alle Rechte üben, wenn wir Ihnen zuschauen?" Wolfgang called down.
"Ja, geht voraus." Laurtentiu yelled back.
"What are you guys talking about?" James asked almost as a reflex. He'd only been with the circus for a day and he already felt isolated by the language barrier. Nearly everyone knew English, but they rarely spoke it. Conversations were mostly in German but James noticed that phrases in other tongues were mixed in, occasionally in the same sentence. It was like being at a very colorful United Nations meeting. Even though no one ever complained, James was growing tired of asking everyone to repeat themselves in the one language he could understand.
"He said we can watch them practice." Wolfgang said.
Actually, considering the intensity of the culture shock, James thought he was doing quite well. Thirty-six hours ago James had had an apartment with plumbing, a girlfriend, and a regular job. Now he was sharing a small mobile home with Wolfgang, plumbing was a quickly fading memory, and he wasn't exactly sure what writing circus music entailed. And considering that though it was ten in the morning while his body was telling him it was 3 am, he thought he was doing quite well indeed.
As Laurentiu and his family began climbing the ladders to the tight rope platform James sat up a little straighter. Now the work was beginning, he pushed his problems to the back of his mind and watched.
Right off James could see that this wasn't going to be a matter of writing songs or even a soundtrack. Normally movement was choreographed to the music, but in the circus it was backwards; the movements were too unpredictable and the harder the act the more time was needed for the performer to prepare. Instead of choreographing the performance to the music, the music would have to be choreographed to the performance.
About halfway through the Wolleck's practice they were joined by Kurt who seemed to arrive out of nowhere, climbing up to them from the back of the stands.
"What are do you to think of it?" He asked James.
"I had no idea you could do that many things on a tight rope." James answered. He noticed that Kurt was one of the only ones besides Wolfgang who made a conscious effort to speak English when he was around. He was thankful for it though Kurt's English was as paradoxical as his appearance. Kurt may have looked like an extra from a monster movie, but he was one of the nicest guys James had ever met. James had heard him speaking in at least five different languages, but his English was unpredictable. Most of the time he was perfectly intelligible even with his occasional mistakes, but he had a rare tendency to come up with English that was so wrong, even Wolfgang couldn't figure out what he was trying to say.
"This troupe is new." Kurt said. "They are really surprise look at of our old tight wire walkers." He pointed to a teenaged boy navigating his way across the rope on a unicycle. "You met Ivan last night."
James nodded his head, fairly certain that Kurt was saying that these performers were better than the previous ones.
In addition to the usual adjustments one makes when moving to a new country, James had the addition task of adjusting to the circus' schedule and lifestyle. Meals, for instance, were communal with the cooking and cleaning tasks divided amongst the members. Since the circus was primarily divided into family groups, a different family prepared dinner each night while another cleaned up. All the other meals were eaten at different times based on everyone's schedules, but dinner was always a large gathering.
It was surprising that the performers took on the extra work given all the other demands on their time. Wolfgang told him that there had once a hired cook, but they hadn't used one in years; that they preferred to keep the inner circle of the circus fairly tight. It wasn't too bad Wolfgang had told him; it was like having a dinner party every night.
He and Wolfgang had sat with a few of the older performers, the ones he'd be working with while he wrote the music for the show. Several feet away from them was the circus' adolescent crowd, easily the loudest group. Kurt was there; along with someone Wolfgang had introduced as Lars, as well as Kurt's sister Amanda and several other of the circus' teenaged performers. He recognized the boy Kurt pointed out as having been there too. As a musician James was no stranger to the bonds made on stage and from watching them, he could tell who performed with whom. Kurt and Lars easily had the monopoly on the comedy; watching their timing it was obvious that they worked together and had for sometime.
A few minutes later, watching the assembled members of Lycka på Himmelen, James' suspicion was confirmed. Kurt and Lars were the trapeze troupe's youngest male flyers and as such, did the flashiest tricks. They reminded him a little of two jazz musicians, trading riffs in constant friendly competition though it was obvious that Lars was somewhat outclassed against Kurt's unique physical attributes.
"The plan is to write the show all summer to give us all winter to put the show together. What do you think?" Wolfgang asked.
"It's a lot of work, but possible. And then what?" James said.
Wolfgang shrugged. "We tour the show until they're sick of us."
"Actually I was talking about you." James said.
"Me?"
"Yeah. You. And Maria. I thought you told her you were taking a year."
Wolfgang's smile dropped from his face, leaving a look like a scolded child. He sighed rubbed his eyes with his hands. "I know James." He said.
"And it's been what, a year and a half?"
"Yes."
"So, what are you going to do about Maria?"
Wolfgang frowned. He'd managed to keep Maria out of his mind since their parting in New York's John F Kennedy Airport, when he'd gone to his plane bound for Munich and she the plane bound for Rome. He hadn't considered that James was going to come here and start playing the part of his conscience.
"Have you even called her?" James asked, sounding more and more irritated.
"I wrote." Wolfgang said.
"Christ!" James shouted, slapping his palm against his forehead, "You tell a girl you'll marry her in one year and then you just write her once?"
"Twice." Wolfgang said indignantly.
"That's hardly an improvement. She's not going to wait forever you know. I can't believe you Wolfgang." James turned away in disgust. He'd only been apart from Brin for less than two days and he felt her absence like a physical pain. How could Wolfgang promise to marry a girl and then disappear for over a year with only a few letters?
Wolfgang sighed. "I still love her." He said. "I just didn't want to inflict upon her…"
"Inflict what upon her?" James asked.
"Me." Wolfgang said, gesturing at himself for emphasis. "I thought that maybe if I got all my silly ideas out of my system I could go back to her as, I don't know… a better man." He looked away from James, pretending he was listening to what Sven and Papa were saying to Lars even though he couldn't understand a word of Swedish. "It's just that they're not going away." He finished at last.
James shook his head. "Maybe she likes your silly ideas." He said.
"Maybe." Wolfgang shrugged. "But it just doesn't seem fair to her. I love Maria, but I want to support her, take care of her, and I'm just not ready to do that."
James snorted. "Your friend Kurt has more heart than you and he looks like Satan."
"Don't be rude. Kurt can't change the way he looks." Wolfgang shot back.
"Yeah, but you can change the way you act." James stood up. "I swear, I won't write a note until you clear this up. It's not fair to Maria. You're being an asshole." He started down the stairs.
"James!"
"I'm serious Wolfgang." James said, and kept walking.
Dear Brin,
Well, I made it – my first transcontinental flight. It wasn't as bad as I expected it to be, just a little boring. But, my luggage and I made it to Munich intact.
Wolfgang picked me up at the airport and it's been typical non-stop Wolfgang craziness ever since. He brought his friend Kurt with him to pick me up. Do you remember those circus posters that Wolfgang sent us, the ones he painted with that blue devil guy on them? (You should, it's in our living room.) Well, that's Kurt and that's what he's like. All of the time. But he's pretty nice.
I'm sharing a trailer with Wolfgang and his movie collection. As you can imagine it's a tight squeeze, especially since the circus is supposed to have their business office in there too. (Oh yeah, Wolfgang is the business manager for a circus now. Isn't that hilarious and yet somehow fitting?) I'm still trying to adjust to life here and I think I will be for a long time. Remember plumbing? Electricity? Privacy? English?
I'm trying not to sound negative because I'm really not. Once you get used to it (which I'm sure I will eventually) this is probably the most amazing thing I've ever done. The band is incredible and so are the performers. Plus, Wolfgang's idea is actually really good and I think they can pull this off. So you can stop your countdown – I'm going to stay, at least until we finish the show.
I miss you like crazy. We're going to be traveling all over Europe for the next few months so I won't have an address. And there are no phones. I'll send you a postcard from every place we visit and I'll call you the next time I'm near a payphone. Maybe by then I'll know how to say, "Hello, I'm a sheltered city kid from America" in German.
Did I mention I miss you?
Love
-Jim
PS – I lied about the electricity. They have generators. How else would Wolfgang get his movie fix?
