Tuesday, March 27, 2012

25 -- Jozef Sees Nina Again


The show started again. With a drum roll, a large Asian family catapulted into the ring, from an old, white-haired man to three small children. As if it were a dance, they scrambled on top of each other, forming a human pyramid. Five young men, muscles dancing, comprised the bottom. On top of them stood five women, then three older men, and the three children positioned themselves onto the top somehow. After enthusiastic applause, they, starting at the top, toppled down from each other.

Maja turned to him, eyes gleaming. “I’ve never seen people doing tricks like that before. This is so great!”

He laughed at her enthusiasm. “There’ll be more. Just wait and see.”

He turned back to the ring and forgot to breathe. There, flanked by her brothers, stood Nina, strong and tall, wearing a feathery yellow costume that perfectly underscored her dark beauty. Her eyes were riveted on him, but she wasn’t smiling.

Feeling guilty somehow, Jozef wondered how long she’d been watching him and Maja.

He was hardly aware of the manager’s announcement of the Flying Bufandos. And anyway, she had no right to look at him that way, considering that she was now a married woman. Just to make sure, he looked at her hands, but she had turned and went after her brothers up the swaying ladder to the platform high above the crowd.

Jozef, forgetting everything else around him, followed her with his eyes as she seemed to dance in the air.

After their performance, the clowns came in and delighted the three boys next to him, but Jozef noticed. It was all he could do to keep his face passive and not to spoil the enjoyment of Konrad’s family.

 Nevertehless, towards the end of the show, Maja turned to him. “You’re so quiet, Panje Wawrzyniak. And I do believe you’re pale. Are you feeling all right?”

He gave her the semblance of a smile. “I’m fine. It’s just a little stuffy here.”

He turned and glanced toward the dark section of the tent, where the artists were collected. Nina stood among them, still staring at him. Her face was a study in misery.

No comments:

Post a Comment