Lynda Plante - Entwined

Her face twisted into a silent scream. She covered her mouth as the wounds that had been locked up inside her for so many years began to open. "You remember. You can't forget. Every time you see a baby you remember. Papa told me it was all right, he used to stand with me and watch the babies coming. He held my hand, and I didn't think anything was wrong because he whistled. He was always whistling. The next time I saw Rebecca she had a doll, he had given her a real doll so she could play at being a mama."

Luis felt sick. The image of the dead infants haunted him. Ruda's hands plucked at her jacket. "He liked me to call him Papa."

Her voice became no more than a whisper. She tried to say the name of the man whose face was buried inside her mind, the man who had tortured her and caused her indescribable anguish. For deep beneath her scarred body lay a consuming, confused, and heartbreaking guilt. Slowly it began to surface: She was once again the little girl sitting on his knee, hands clasped around the sweet he had given her. The little girl who said, "It's mine!" He had kissed her cheek and pinched her chin, teasing her. She could hear his voice.

"Open it, you can open it!"

"No."

"Don't you want it?"

"My sister, I want it for my sister."

He had laughed then and jerked his knee hard so that she fell to the floor. "What is your sister's name?"

"Rebecca."

"Ah yes. Is she well?"

Ruda nodded, and he crouched low, resting on the heels of his polished boots. He traced her cheek with his white-gloved hand. "Tell me, do you feel pain when your sister is hurt?"

"Yes."

He seemed delighted. He brought out a box of sugar almonds with a pink ribbon, and gave a small bow, clicking his heels. "These are for you and your sister."

She reached out, but he withdrew the box. "I want a kiss." She stood on tiptoes, slipped her arms around his neck, and kissed first his right, then his left cheek. He smelled of limes. With the box of almonds tucked under one arm, her hand in his, they walked into the hospital wing.

"Bring her sister, I want her sister! These are going to be my special twins..."

Grimaldi said nothing, simply sat watching her. When Ruda lifted her face up to him, her eyes had a faraway expression. She stared unseeing as the face of the monster emerged. The face of the man who had embraced the child with love, and yet tortured her tiny body. The being who had twisted her mind for experiments that had benefited no one. Why had he never stood trial? Why had he never been punished? The Dark Angel's wing had overshadowed her life. She could never pretend that it had not happened. It had... and slowly her rage against him began to unfold.

Rebecca pressed her body against the side of the trailer. She could feel the rage growing inside her. For the first time she could separate herself from the rage and watch it manifest itself. She could see her hands clench and unclench. Before when it started happening, she had always lost control and would have no memory of what had occurred. But now she knew the rage was not hers, but Ruda's. Now their minds entwined, like an electric circuit fusing, ready to ignite...

Rebecca fought against its taking over. She tried to reach the trailer door, to call out that she was there, that she had not tried to find Ruda because she had been forced to forget. But now the memories came back in a blinding, red-hot blaze.

Luis saw it happen and couldn't stop it. The rage exploded inside Ruda: Her body tensed, the veins in her neck throbbed, her hands beat the air, and her mouth opened in a terrible silent scream. But above all, it was the madness in her eyes that made him freeze.

The fury she had held in check for so long blinded her, and she attacked Luis — she believed him to be Papa, and she had to destroy him...

Mamon lay with his head resting on his paws. Mike, easing open the trapdoor, pushed the feed tray inside. Vernon was carrying bales of clean straw. He called to Mike. "Eh! I wouldn't try that, Mike.

Leave it for her. They'll be going to join the parade any minute."

Mike half turned, his hand still on the bolt of the trapdoor. At that moment Mamon lunged forward, his full weight hitting the side of the cage: The trapdoor flew open, knocking Mike off his feet. Mamon was out.

Vernon dropped the bale of straw and threw himself out of the way, but Mamon wasn't interested in either of them; he was loping toward the open tent flap, churning up the sawdust. His roar was terrifying in its volume and intensity.

"Oh shit! Oh my God... Get the nets! Fucking get the nets!"

Word spread fast; within minutes the area was cordoned off and gatekeepers and parking attendants warned that no one was to be allowed beyond the barriers. The helpers ran toward the trailer park, their flashlights flickering as they questioned anyone who might have seen where Mamon had run.

As panic spread the security men were alerted.

The grand parade was just drawing to a close, the audience cheering, flowers and balloons tumbling from the top of the tent.

Thousands of chattering, laughing people streamed from the exits. They gathered alongside buses, or made their way on foot back down the road. Some walked to their parked cars. Children were carried in parents' arms, fast asleep, while others ran whooping and screaming, carrying circus maps, toys, and balloons.

The sky opened again with a heavy roll of thunder. Rain came lashing down.

Mike ran hysterically to the Grimaldi trailer, while Torsen and his group headed back to their car, via the trailer park.

Helen and the baron were pushed and buffeted along by the crowd as they headed for the trailer park barriers.

Inside the trailer Grimaldi tried desperately to control Ruda. It was difficult to move out of her reach. Twice he had caught her arms, but she had struggled free. She scratched, kicked, and tore at him. She had overturned the table, ripped the sofa cushions. She couldn't hear him, the rage consumed her. Her jaws snapped like an animal's.

Grimaldi gripped her by the hair. Ruda twisted and punched her elbow into his stomach. As he released his hold and buckled over, she pulled his head up, forcing him back. Her hands clenched his throat.

Rebecca banged and pushed at the door, hit it with the flat of her hand and then ran to a window, screaming to be let in. Ruda turned. For an instant she froze, then she picked up a chair and hurled it at Rebecca's face. It shattered the window. Grimaldi got on his feet, but Ruda went for him again. Rebecca tried to crawl through the broken window. A jagged sliver of glass cut her cheek. Her hand flew up to her face.

Ruda backed away, her hand pressed to her cheek as if she were the one who had cut herself. Then she reached out and hauled Rebecca inside, crushing her in her arms. It was a killing embrace, a furious protection. They were locked together as one.

Grimaldi grabbed hold of Ruda from behind, wrenched her away and Rebecca screamed. She felt as if she were being plucked out of her own body.

Grimaldi slapped Ruda's face hard, jerking her head from side to side.

"You're killing her!.. Ruda! Ruda!"

She seemed to calm down. He gripped her face in his hands. "Ruda, it's me, it's me !" Rebecca clawed Grimaldi, desperate for Ruda's embrace.

Running toward the trailer, Mike screamed out: "Ruda! Ruda!"

Mike was at the shattered window. "He's loose, Mamon's loose. Nobody can find him, we've got the nets standing by."

Ruda's push sent Grimaldi crashing into the wall, banging against Rebecca. They fell in a tangled heap as Ruda threw herself out of the window. Grimaldi staggered to his feet, but he was too late. He could see Ruda running after Mike.

Rebecca started to scream and he crouched down beside her. "Listen to me, stay here. Do you understand? Don't leave the trailer, stay inside."