Lady of the Rings
by Brandy Dewinter and Ellen Hayes
(All rights reserved)
Chapter 24 - "I May Be Climbing On Rainbows..."
Build 4
A couple of days after the Colonel made his offer, Vasily showed
up when I was working out one morning. This was not particularly note-
worthy; we sparred at least once or twice a week. What was unusual was
that he brought two shinai with him, the practice bamboo version of kendo
swords. Instead of explaining them, though, Vasily started talking about
my workout.
"You move very well, both with and without a weapon," he said.
I just smiled and gave a little head nod, a bit breathless from my
exertions.
"The Colonel said you had some experience with swords, as well," he
continued.
I nodded again, this time without the smile. Now his purpose was
obvious and I didn't like to be manipulated.
"Have you made up your mind whether to stay with the circus and be
in the new show?"
"No, not yet," I answered.
He nodded, like that confirmed something he had already expected,
and tossed me one of the shinai.
"Let's see if you have the temperament for the center ring," he
said with a smile of his own.
I brought the shinai up to an appropriate guard position. My old
robot sensei had been ruthless in demonstrating the weakness of a
poorly positioned sword, but he, um, it had never insisted on any
particularly formal positions.
It had been a long time since I had held a sword and I found once
again that this new shape did not have the same balance and leverage as
my old one. It was pitifully weak in the upper body. My work with the
quarterstaff had been more focused on wrists than holding the weight at
arm's length. On the other hand, I was incredibly limber. That made
up for some of my awkwardness. Vasily was obviously taking it easy on
me. I could see him pass up opportunities that my mis-applied reflexes
made available. Yet he challenged me as well, both with sound whacks
when they could be delivered without risk of real injury and with openings
for the same on him.
After a few minutes he stood back and called a halt.
"Have you lost a lot of weight lately?" he asked.
"Um, no, not really," I said, blushing.
"Oh," he replied, then a light seemed to come on behind his eyes.
"Perhaps you have . . . changed . . . in other ways."
JUST what I wanted to be reminded of. He misinterpreted the root
cause of that blush, but it wasn't the first time that a lie based on
silence was more convincing than the truth.
"It's obvious that you have had training, and done well at it, but
your reflexes are not appropriate. I suspect your sensei did not provide
you with the proper techniques for women."
*Hah, you can say that again!* I thought. "Um," I said.
"Still," he continued, "you have a solid foundation to build upon,
and I'm sure we can come up with something good for the show."
Something in his manner did not invite comment. Instead, he just
began explaining a set of moves that would have been suicidal in a real
fight (whoever would deliberately twirl around, turning your back on an
opponent with a sword?), but took full advantage of my flexibility. I
found out that morning what sets the true circus stars apart from more
ordinary performers. It comes back to the old saying about genius being
an infinite capacity for taking pains. Vasily worked us through a set of
moves as carefully choreographed as any Broadway show, sometimes going
through the same sequence over and over as he changed some tiny detail.
Once he had the sequence that he wanted, we started repeating it with
gradually increasing speed until we were flying through the moves. By
that time, we had an audience who were applauding every twirl. It was
showy, graceful, and energetic.
And boring. At least to me. I had enjoyed getting my butt whacked
in our extemporaneous sparring more than I enjoyed "winning" the
artificial battle. I don't suppose Vasily realized it, and I'm sure the
Colonel didn't or he wouldn't have sent Vasily, but that choreography
session made up my mind for me on whether I would stay with the circus.
The real challenge of finding the remaining rings was even more
compelling than the siren song of stardom.
Even if Vasily didn't pick up on it, Sarah did. At some point she
must have joined the gathering crowd because after it dispersed, she was
standing there. Her eyes told me that she knew what I would do, or
perhaps it was her aura. I had become so accustomed to integrating the
information from my new senses that I didn't always consciously consider
it anymore. In any event, I knew that she knew that I had made my
decision.
I had always thought that it was impossible for Sarah to end a
sentence without smiling, and this was no exception. She didn't say a
word. She just nodded, the sadness that prevented a smile also keeping
her from speaking. I nodded in return and turned to the trailer to get
cleaned up.
There were a few days left in Atlanta, but that was little enough
time to get a new act together. The Colonel needed to know that I
wouldn't be continuing so that he could make other arrangements. The
circus grapevine circulated my decision before I even left his RV,
based, I suppose, on my somber expression when I went to see him. I
was pleased, though a little guilty at my lack of faith in them, to see
that no one tried to talk me out of my decision. It was, however, the
end of the camaraderie that had been built. I was once again an
outsider, not quite a rube, but as alien as anything from outer space.
They just didn't understand someone who would turn her back on a chance
to star in the circus that was their life.
Well, there were exceptions, true friends who were still friends
even after they knew I would be leaving. It was a quiet time, though.
I went through my part of the dog show act mechanically, almost uncaring
that I was so exposed in my show costume. My time at the carousel was
not much better. Jim and I spoke in polite, quiet tones without the
teasing we had shared before.
The only person who truly showed emotion at the news of my leaving
was Kim. She avoided me. That hurt worse than, well, than I can
describe.
I had gotten the Colonel's approval to leave the morning of our -
their - last day in Atlanta. He had suggested it, actually. I would
have stayed to help break down the carousel, but he said they would be
more focused if I were gone. That morning found me carrying my small
stock of possessions to the Jimmy. Some impulse had made me dress in
the clothes I had worn the day of my transformation; sort of a statement
that I was taking away only what I brought, even as I loaded all the
other things in the SUV. I don't suppose that makes much sense, but
that's the way I felt.
Everyone had left me alone all morning and I really felt like I was
being shunned. Then, as I stepped down from the trailer on what I
figured would be my last trip, I found a small crowd waiting for me.
"We couldn't let you leave without saying good-bye," Tom Highland
declared. He opened his arms to me and gave me a warm hug. Then he
reached for a small pet carrier and handed it to me.
"This is one of Heidi's puppies," he explained. "She has enough
terrier in her to make her hyper and enough cocker spaniel to make her
stupid. She should be a perfect traveling companion."
Some sort of breeze must have come up, because all of a sudden I
had something in my eyes.
Then Ivan the Terrible stepped forward and handed me one of those
canned air horn things. "I figured even your whistle might not be loud
enough if you get too far away, so keep this handy. If I hear it, I'll
come running."
Where had all that dust in the air come from? My eyes were really
burning.
All the girls from the trailer were standing around, too. Even
though I had repaid them for the things they had given me when I first
arrived, each girl had another of whatever it had been. I got another
pair of shiny pink panties, another razor, and some shampoo. There were
a few minutes of bustling around and a sort of girlish teasing that had
never felt very comfortable to me, at least before, but it was different
now. Different in some way that I didn't understand.
Then there was another almost-choreographed movement and an aisle
formed from me to Amber. She held a half-pint of cream she must have
stolen from the cafeteria.
"Here, Brittybrittybritty," she said, but she said it with sort of
worried expression that made it more appeal than challenge. She wasn't
going to admit she had been wrong, but, well, you figure it out. I just
knew that the right thing to do was to give her a quick hug. She smiled
in almost comic relief and you could feel a wave of tension flow out from
her to dissipate into that damn breeze that was blowing all the dust
around.
Vasily was standing near her and he held out a little whisk broom to
me, smiling as he said, "For brushing off your fanny when you get bounced
on it."
That got more of a laugh from the others than from me, but it did
help me to get my breathing under control. My throat had choked up, from
the dust in the air of course. I managed a smile and added his offering
to my pile of treasures. There was one more person standing there, the
Colonel.
"Well, my going away present may not be quite so . . . durable . . .
but I think you'll find it useful," he said, offering me an envelope.
I didn't open it right there, of course, but even if it held small bills,
there was a nice little bonus in there.
I was about to try some sort of stupid thank you speech, when the
Colonel rescued me. He pointed at the stuff that I had been carrying
when they intercepted me, and said, "Sarah is expecting those costumes
back in her trailer. She's waiting for you there."
That had the effect of an order to everyone and the small group
started to disperse. I made a haul of my goodies to the Jimmy, then
resumed my interrupted trip toward Sarah's.
She met me at the door. The dust must have been blowing over by
her trailer as well, because I could see a shine in her eyes to match
the one I know was showing in mine.
At first, she didn't say anything. Neither did I. She just took
the costumes from me and started to hang them up. I stood around,
feeling stupid and looking worse and was just about to leave when she
spoke.
"So, Brinny, you sure don't look like the runaway that showed up
on my doorstep in Gainesville."
"Most of that is thanks to you," I said.
"Well, I do have to admit I don't think you'd have made some of the
changes on your own," she said. With a smile. Of course.
She turned to her little counter and offered me a gaily wrapped
box.
"Here," she said, "open it."
Inside was a nice set of hot rollers so that I didn't have to sleep
on curlers at night.
"Oh, Sarah, thank you so much!" Once upon a time, if someone had
told me that I'd be truly pleased to get such a gift, I'd have been
compelled to rearrange his face. But I clutched them to me like they
were worth more than gold.
Then I had to shove them aside as Sarah wrapped me up in an embrace
warmer and more urgent than my own mother's. That was too much. Inside
her trailer I didn't have the excuse of blowing dust, and it wouldn't
have been enough of an excuse anyway. I was simply bawling. Not the
gasping sobs that had overwhelmed me the first day I arrived, but enough
waterworks to make a mess of my face and dampen her shoulder.
After a time that was much too short, and much too long, and in the
end just right, Sarah pulled me back and smiled. "You need to fix your
face."
"So do you," I giggled. Even as the tears streamed down my face, I
had broken through my depression into something that allowed room for
humor.
We moved to her little mirror together and made the necessary
repairs. As we worked, Sarah asked, "Did the others give you their
presents, yet?"
"Yes," I answered, but thinking of that brought my mood down again.
She picked up on that, like she picked up on everything, and said,
"You'll find her by the horses."
A part of me wanted to give a flippant, "Find who?" response, but
I knew who she was talking about.
She gave me another quick hug and caught my eyes with a silent order
not to just leave without finding Kim. I nodded in response, then turned
to the door of her trailer.
As soon as I stepped outside, though, I was intercepted yet again.
Jim Chandler stepped forward with his own present, a small cardboard
box with some mismatched tools. "I figured you could use these on your
trip," he said.
"Thank you," I rewarded him with a brighter smile than I really felt
like at that moment.
"Um, Brittany, uh, well, could I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Uh, well, um, maybe what I want to ask is if you'll do something,
more maybe not do something," he stammered, blushing and looking at the
ground.
"What is it you want, Jim?" I asked, a little irritated. I really
wasn't in the mood to play games at the moment-
"Don't kill me," he blurted out, then he grabbed me by the
shoulders and gave me a kiss.
It's a good thing he asked, because my first impulse was just that.
I was tensing up to flip him over me and into the trailer wall when
things.... changed. There was a hardness in his arms that seemed sort
of comforting, somehow, around my softer shoulders, and I felt the rest
of my body softening in response. In a second I realized that softening
included my lips, which were finding the fierceness of his assault not
nearly so unpleasant as it had seemed only a heartbeat before. I felt
my arms lifting around his neck and welcoming a pressure that had been
unthinkable, until it was undeniable.
At some point in there my eyes closed. If they had stayed open I
might have noticed that at least of few of the carnies, and even a few
rubes, had gathered.
Then again, I might not have noticed anyway.
By the time Jim finally pulled his head back, we had enough of a
crowd to draw some pretty noticeable applause. He blushed and started
to say something, but he was interrupted by Sarah, standing on the steps
of her trailer.
"Don't make the mistake of apologizing, Jim," she warned with a
laugh. "If she hasn't slapped you by now, then she will NOT want to hear
you regret the kiss."
That caused a titter of laughter to wash over the crowd. He opened
his mouth to say something, then closed it when he realized he didn't
know what to say. Instead he moved back and shrugged sheepishly.
Speaking quietly enough that only I could hear, he said, "No, I am
definitely not sorry I did that. I've wanted to, just, well, forever,
and even if you kill me now, it was worth it."
"I, um, don't think I'll kill you," I murmured back, so lost in my
own reactions that I answered like it were a valid question. He probably
expected me to smile when I said it or something, to make it clear that I
wasn't really offended. I was too distracted for that. He stepped back
another pace and I could see him struggling to find something more to
say.
I straightened up and looked around, realizing for the first time
just how many people were watching. It sort of brought me back to my
senses, or something. In any event, I knew I was going to have to
figure out why I had responded like I did to Jim's kiss, but at another
time. I forced a smile onto my face that seemed to banish Jim's
worries. Right then, I figured if Tom Highland could find a pet carrier
big enough for Jim, he'd have climbed in happily and gone away with me.
I certainly wasn't ready for that, so I tried to figure out a way to get
some distance from him.
"Jim, since I did, or didn't do, something for you, will you do
something for me?"
"Sure! Just name it!" he gushed.
"Will you take these tools to my Jimmy? It's a dark blue one,
parked near the water tanker."
He had probably hoped for something else, but he smiled and picked
up the cardboard box. As he left and the bystanders started to drift
away, I looked at Sarah. Her gentle smile was both praise for the way I
had handled Jim, and a reminder that there was one more person I had to
see before I left. With a sigh that was a sign of internal feelings as
complicated as those Jim had just triggered, I turned toward the part of
the circus where the horses were stabled.
I heard her before I saw her. Her light soprano voice was singing
softly and I followed the sound to the right stall to find her slowly
combing out the mane on her snow-white horse. She didn't see me right
away.
"Hey have you ever tried,
Really reaching out for the other side?
I may be climbing on rainbows
But, baby here goes."
She must have been listening to her Daddy's songs, if she knew that
oldie. Then again, I knew it.
Before I really knew what I was doing, I was kneeling with my pack
in front of me and my fingers were assembling my flute, and then as I
was wondering why I was doing THAT, I joined in wordless counterpoint to
her gentle voice.
"I want to make it with you
I really think that we can make it girl."
She must have been lost in the song a little, or something, because
she didn't stop singing as soon as she heard me play. Then it must have
registered, because she whirled around to find me standing at the door to
the stall.
Her mouth opened a closed a few times, like she was trying to think
of something to say. I wasn't much better. Finally, I fell back on
something stupid and meaningless.
"Hello, Kim."
"Hello."
"I'll be leaving pretty soon."
"I know."
God, she was no help at all!
"I, um, wanted to say good-bye," I stumbled on.
She just nodded, not meeting my eyes.
"Dammit, Kimmie, after all we've been through, if you don't give me
a hug or something, I'll . . ," I said as I stepped through the door.
I don't know what I would have threatened. It didn't matter anyway.
She met me part way and we wrapped ourselves up in each other.
Maybe it was because of what had just happened with Jim, maybe it
was something that had building for a long time, maybe lots of things,
but all of the sudden I found my lips caressing hers. We may have
started out in a sisterly embrace, but it didn't stay that way.
Her kiss was so different from any other I had ever shared that it
didn't seem right to use the same label. When Cindy and I had kissed
back in high school, it had been too experimental. We hardly knew where
the noses went, and whatever we may have read in a book didn't really
prepare us for the reality. Not that kissing Cindy had been bad, just,
well, not in the same universe with this. The guys weren't either. Both
Buck and Jim had been very masculine kissers, strong, thin-lipped, hard-
muscled. Kimmie was soft and cuddly and somehow delicate even under her
curves. But there wasn't any doubt that there were real, grownup
emotions surging through her lips into mine, and back again. A large
part of my mind was screaming how much better this was than kissing a
guy. Screaming so loudly, in fact, that I knew my emotions were still
much too confused for such a clear conclusion. Then I quit caring about
comparisons.
I don't know if Kim or I pulled back first, but all of the sudden
the reality of our situation came flooding back in on us and we sprang
apart guiltily. An apology was on its way out of my mouth when I
remembered Sarah's comment and bit my tongue to silence.
So it was Kimmie that spoke first, "I, um, don't know why I did
that."
"I think you had help," I answered. My own emotions were still too
turbid for humor, but Kim was so spring-loaded to cheerful that it set
her off.
Through her giggles, she said, "Lots of it."
Her laughter was so damn infectious that I found myself laughing,
too. In another second we were both hoorawing and hugging each other
again, not sensually this time, but just as needful of physical contact.
I know I had tears running down my face again, but they were
different tears. Better tears that I didn't mind. It did remind me of
the scene in Sarah's trailer, though, and that sort of put the brakes on
my levity. Kimmie sensed that and looked at me with the softest, most
wistful expression I had ever seen.
"Do you really have to go?" she pleaded.
"More than I could ever tell you," I confirmed.
She nodded, and then walked over to where she had piled some things
against the wall. Extracting a small box from the pile, she handed it
to me.
Inside was a beautiful little heart locket, shining gold, complete
with a delicately feminine chain. When I opened it, I found a picture of
Kimmie, smiling in a way that only she could do. If it had been me, I'd
have probably figured someone would want a picture of a circus performer
in fancy costume, complete with show makeup. But Kimmie had chosen a
casual picture with her hair in a pony-tail and her cheeks naturally
flushed from riding. It was perfect.
"Oh, God, Kimmy, I didn't get you anything," I sighed, feeling the
tears start up yet again. "I didn't know anyone would do anything like
this."
"That's probably why we all did," she smiled, tears brimming in her
own eyes. "You've never been what I would call, oh, demanding of your
friends."
I spotted a locket around her own throat, close enough to mine in
shape that I knew it was meant as a deliberate reminder. I reached out
to open hers and found a picture already inside. Mine.
"Where'd you get this?" I asked.
"One of the rubes had an instant camera. I asked him to take an
extra one with you and then I cut away everything but your picture."
Damn, what a day! In a heartbeat I was past pretending to be in
control and the tears were just flowing down my cheeks again. If the
morning when Vasily had showed me what the stunt show would be like had
caused my decision to leave, then that moment with Kimmie in the barn was
its opposite, coming closer than any other to making me stay. I think
that I hated Andreas more intensely right then, than even when I had been
transformed to be a girl. No one should be set up for this much pain.
That thought must have crystallized my resolve, because even as my
heart was crumbling, I found myself drawing back from Kimmie. I would
BEAT that son of a bitch, no matter what it took!
She sensed the change in my attitude and looked a question at me
with her own reddened eyes. I couldn't tell her, though, no more now
than in so many past times. I just shook my head and started to fumble
with the locket. She had to help; I couldn't even see the catch through
my tears, but in a moment I had it around my neck, the locket hanging
just visible through my open collar.
"I have to go," I whispered.
"I know," she said, head down, looking at the locket. "Will I ever
see you again?" she finally asked.
"Oh, Kimmie, I hope so!"
She swallowed, still looking at the locket, and finally nodded in
silent agreement. I nodded back, then straightened my shoulders, gave
her one last, one-arm hug and turned to the doorway. I half expected
her to follow me to my truck, but instead she picked up the currycomb
and turned back to her horse. As I left, I heard her singing again.
"If a girl could be two places at one time,
I'd be with you.
Tomorrow and today, beside you all the way.
If the world should stop revolving spinning slowly down to die,
I'd spend the end with you.
And when the world was through,
Then one by one the stars would all go out,
Then you and I would simply fly away . . ."
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