Elena Fedorova - The red-haired clown. A novel

“No way,” Charles cut short.

“I understand everything from the first time.”

“That’s for sure,” she smiled.“Bebe and I have never had such a smart disciple, and we will never have. Why do we need new disciples if we have Benosh?”

“Why don’t you have children?” he asked.

Lele waved away, grabbed an empty bucket and ran out of the show-booth.

“Ah, I am such a dummy. I forgot to warn you not to talk about children,” Bebe knocked his forehead. He closed the door, took a stack of yellowed photographs from the box, and handed them to Charles.

“This is Lele. She used to be a trapeze artist. The incomparable Marie Kalish was written on the posters,” the voice of Bebe became gentle, his eyes moistened. “Dancing on the wire, flying under the dome of the circus, dizzying pirouettes on the trapeze… She was shining. She was loved. She was admired. Rich gentlemen showered her with flowers and precious gifts. And she loved the stupid redhaired clown Bebe, who was coming out to the circus arena in his down-at-heel shoes and tattered clothes. She loved the clown, whom nobody called by name. No one but Marie did not know that the clown’s name was Michael.”

Bebe sat down on a stool in front of Charles and sighed.

“You have a beautiful name,” Charles smiled.

“Yes. Lele also likes it. The conversation is not about me but about her,” he began to whisper. “Once a rich gentleman appeared in the van of Lele.”

They were talking long about something, and then he opened wide the door, and shouted:

“I will not let it go. You will pay for your impudence.”

Three days later, Lele fell from the trapeze. Someone had cut the harnesses… Bebe got up and turned away to the window. His voice became dull.

“We thought she would not survive. And she…” Bebe turned and wiped away a tear. “She showed all of us up. Lele is a good woman. She is a real fighter, a hero. That’s just… she will never be a mother. We gradually got accustomed to this. Then you came along. Lele proposed to consider you our son. I agreed. Benosh, you are our son. We will not have other children. We are ready to give you everything we have. So you better not let us down, son.”

“I will not let you down, Bebe,” having hugged him, Charles said. They hid the photographs inside the box and sat down by the window.

“Tell me, Bebe, haven’t you thought that the Director of the circus cut the harnesses?” Charles asked.

“Rudolf? No. He is too cowardly, “Bebe shook his head. “Moreover, he is madly in love with Marie. He is still in love. Still madly,” Bebe began to laugh. “Did you think I do not know? I know. I know everything, everything, everything, son. Marie and I have no secrets from each other.”

“I will wash the floor,” Lele said aloud, having opened wide the door. “I am tired of your mess.”

“My dear, the mess should always be in our show-booth, otherwise, it cannot keep its sonorous circus name the Show-Booth,” Bebe said in a good-natured voice. “Leave your bucket, let’s go for a walk among sunflowers. Benosh, will you go with us?”

“No, I will stay and wash the floor. That’s why Lele dragged this heavy bucket,” Charles said. Lele kissed him on the forehead and winked: “Don’t get the drum wet.”

“And then what?” Charles asked, having looked at the bellied drum with polished chopsticks in the corner.

“And then the grenadiers will come and take you to the battle,” she said, leaving.

Then sunflowers, which were in the bucket and exuded a sweet-spicy aroma, appeared in the show-booth. Bebe was peeling seeds, praising the Director, who chose this wonderful place for the circus tent. A field of sunflowers seemed to follow them everywhere. Charles always saw sunflowers in the window of his show-booth. Always…

Lele chose two suits for Charles: light purple and light golden. She ordered to try the golden one first.

“Yes,” she nodded approvingly when Charles came out from behind the screen.

“A lovestruck young man should look like that.”

“Do you think I am madly in love with this girl?” Charles frowned.

“Not madly,” having folded her arms on her chest, she said. “But you are in love. My woman’s intuition have never let me down. Will you say I am wrong?”

“I like Simone,” Charles said. “I like her a lot but… She grew up right in front of my eyes. I was playing dolls with her. I considered her my sister. Yes, yes, yes, she is my younger sister, whom I have no right to love like a man. But…” Charles lifted his hands in dismay, “the trouble is that I cannot cope with my feelings, although I am honestly trying to get rid of them.”

“The trouble is not in this,” Lele shook her head. “Your trouble is that you are trying to destroy the best, the brightest, not thinking about that you are destroying yourself. What for?”

“That’s because I do not want to be responsible for anyone but myself,” Charles replied, having turned to the mirror.

“Well done,” Lele tapped him on the shoulder. “It is easier, free to live like you. Tell me, why do you need this suit then? Why are you going to the house of the banker? Do you want to spank the shameless girl?”

“Lele, you always ask questions that lead me up a blind alley. I am confused, I do not know what to answer,” Charles admitted.

“I prepare you for surprises,” she smiled, having flicked him on the nose. “Go, do not waste precious minutes. Remember, you are a person, worthy of respect. Even Simone said that she owed you, Charles Benosh, a lot.”

“Thank you, Marie,” having kissed her hand, Charles said. She hugged him and pushed to the door.

“I will pay for everything myself. Go.”

The porter opened the door and smiled: “Come in. You have been long awaited. Go downstairs.”

The servant, dressed in an expensive livery, bowed, passing Charles to the mirror room-hall with a gleaming parquet.

“I am glad to see you, Mr. Clown,” a demure and cold voice sounded. The banker Schwartz Schtanzer was reflected in several mirrored corridors at the same time. Charles was looking distractedly at the reflection, not knowing which one was the main.

“I am glad you came today,” the banker said, coming from behind Charles. He was confused. The banker smiled, pointed to a white armchair in gilt.

“Have a seat. I have something to tell you. I have to reveal the secret, which I had been keeping for twenty years,” he sat down in front of Charles in the same armchair-twin and clapped his hands. The servant, who emerged from the mirror, gave him a red velvet folder with a large emblem and left. The banker looked at the concentrated Charles, opened the folder, and said:

“This is the last will of George Stowasser the husband of my sister Eugenia, the mother of Simone. George was a seer. He made this will when Simone was five years old. And two years later, there was a terrible tragedy. Two trains collided. Three hundred and fifty people died.”

“The tragedy occurred on the sixth of November,” Charles said, looking at the banker. He remembered that date because the tragedy occurred on the day of his birth. Lele and Bebe decorated the show-booth with balloons, made a fire from firecrackers. Seventeen times for the seventeen years. And when the volleys died down, a tragic voice was heard from the loudspeaker: “Today…”

“You have an excellent memory,” Schwartz Schtanzer said. “Yes, it happened on the sixth of November. The parents of Simone, George and Eugenia Stowasser, were among the dead people. We had been keeping secret the reason of the absence of parents from Simone for a long time. On the eve of the tragedy, the girl was very ill. Her body was so weakened that the doctor recommended delaying the sad news. But the maid forgot to hide the portraits of George and Eugenia, placed in the mourning frame. Simone distractedly looked at me, pressed both palms to her lips, closed her eyes, and fell backwards. She came to her senses in two hours. All this time, I was in a vacuum of hopelessness…” he closed his eyes with his hand and sighed.