A/N: Sorry for not posting this week. I have been very busy with our fellowship's auction website. If you're curious go to . If you would like to bid on some items, we would appreciate it. Just keep in mind, if you don't live in Portland, OR, your items will have to be shipped. Some items can only be done locally. Anyway, let's get back to our story.

A Circus Boy Returns Home

Part 17: Talons

The days at the circus at the fairgrounds of their current city were passing quickly. Tim was beginning to settle into the circus life, even wishing why his original parents had given him up. It just didn't make much sense. Tim asked Dick, but even he was at a loss to know why. They both forgot all about the question when at the end of the second performance, Dick was inspecting the performer's trapeze.

"This is bad," Dick said.

"What is it?"

"The ropes need to be replaced. I was lucky they didn't break."

Tim looked at what Dick held in his hands, and his face paled.

"Didn't you just replace them?" Tim asked.

"We need to replace these before our last two performances."

"How do you do that?" Tim asked.

"I'll teach you," Dick replied. "I should have taught you sooner. I should have remembered that the trapeze bars and ropes have to be inspected before and after each performance to make sure there is no fraying. We have some time before tomorrow."

"Maybe we should inspect my bar." Tim went to get the bar.

Dick watched with trepidation as Tim climbed up in the scaffolding to reach the connection. Since Nathan Devlin tried to adopt Tim, Dick became very protective of his brother. He watched as Tim unhooked the ropes and let the bar drop to the floor of the tent. Then Tim climbed down just enough so he could drop down, did a summersault, and landed in a crouch. Dick breathed a sigh of relief. As the days passed, Dick had forgotten that Tim was also Red Robin, as well as an admirable acrobat, no not an acrobat, but a gymnast in his own right. A gymnast after all was much like an acrobat. If Tim hadn't become Robin, he might have gone on to the Olympics.

"I'm relieved," Dick said. "I . . . . I thought. . . . "

"That I might fall?" Tim questioned.

"Yeah," Dick answered, feeling foolish.

"Well, it's been a while since I've used my gymnastic skills. I thought I might fall, too. Then you would have to catch me."

"You did great. Let's check the bar."

Tim went over and picked up he catcher's bar. He removed the cloth coverings that protected his legs from the rope that might cause him to chafe. They discovered that both ropes had been partially cut through.

"Who could have done that?"

"I don't know," Dick said.

"Your face is pale." Tim pointed out.

"Is it?"

"Dick, are you thinking of your parents?"

"I . . . "

"It's all right. We'll just have to be more careful to check the ropes from now on."

Dick nodded, but he felt like he was suffocating. Though the performer's bar had been fraying with natural wear and tear, the catcher's bar had been a different story. Who would cut through his brother's trapeze? He was the catcher. If the ropes had broken while Tim was catching him, they both would fall. Pop Haly had gotten stricter with his performance. He had to use a net at all times. No more net-less performances, but that was not the Flying Grayson way. Even so, this felt like a repeat performance. Dick questioned how it could be done. The trapezes weren't easy to get up to, let alone get up into the scaffolding to be able to cut the ropes. Someone would have noticed them.

"We better replace these ropes. We've got two hours before the next performance."

Dick took the bar backstage in a section of the tent where the trunks that stored the bars were hidden. He opened one to discover any rope and tape they had to replace the old ones was gone.

"Tim, you know where the supply car is that contains all the equipment?"

"I think so."

"We need more soft cotton rope, not the rough hemp rope, and more tape." Dick showed Tim how the rope and the connecter were joined together then taped. "This is what needs to be done to replace these ropes. It's going to take time, but we don't have much time before the next performance."

"I'll grab it," Tim said, and rushed off to find the supply car. Once he did, Tim climbed inside and looked around for the silk rope and the tape. He heard a rumbling sound but didn't associate it with the door closing until it was too late as he heard a bolt being slammed into place.

"Hey! Let me out of here!" Tim pounded on the door. "Hey!"

No one could hear Tim because of all the activity from the carnival. Tim looked around to try to find a way out, but there were no windows. The only way out was through the door that someone had shut, then locked, or so he thought. Light seeped in from about and then Tim realized there was an opening, a hatch that might allow Tim to escape. Tim grabbed the rope and the tape. Tim stared for only just a moment trying to figure out how to get up to the hatch when a flurry of wings and talons rained down on him.

"NO! NOO!" Tim brought up his arms to try to fend off the talons of the birds that were attacking him. Tim fell back, tripping over a small barrel of nails. The nails spilled over the floor of the storage car. More birds flew in, their talons sharp as daggers, clawing and scratching.

"NO! NO!" Tim screamed. "NOO!" The birds continued to beat their wings and claw at Tim, tearing his clothing and leaving scratches along his arms. Finally, Tim couldn't take it anymore. Hs head was swimming. Bloody and scratched, Tim passed out.

'What's taking him so long,' Dick wondered. 'We need to get these ropes replaced.' The performance was at 7:00 and it was now 6:00. They would be cutting it too close.

Dick went to the supply car, bent on chewing Tim out for taking too long to find the supplies they needed. Tim was usually reliable. He was surprised to find the supply car locked. Maybe someone had accidently locked him inside.

With the larger crowds attending the performances and the carnival, maybe Pop Haly thought it was prudent to keep the supply car locked to prevent theft. Dick went to the head roustabout.

"Reggie, someone locked the supply car," Dick said. "Tim went to get supplies so we could replace the ropes for tonight's performance."

"And you think he might have gotten locked inside?" Reggie questioned.

"Yeah."

"We'll get him out, but you're running out of time."

"I know. I may have to perform alone. I may need to use the silks."

"You want someone to set them up?" Reggie asked.

"Yeah, we'll only get one bar replaced at this time," Dick replied. "We were cutting it close already."

"I'll go talk to tell them to set up the silks." Reggie handed Dick his keys. "It's the first key on that string."

"Thanks Reggie." Dick dashed off to the supply car. Once he reached the car, he found the right key and opened the lock. The door was awkward to open, but once he did, a flurry of feathers flew out of the door, along with an equal flurry of large birds. They didn't touch him but flew off in several directions. Dick got a good look at them and realized what they were.

"Owls?"

Once the air was clear and Dick had a chance to see, he spotted a bloody Tim lying on the floor of the supply car.

"TIM!"

Continues with Part 18