Fading, Like the Stars

I did not see much of Rufus in the hours and days that followed that evening on the roof. He had safely led us back to the camp, but I could see, all the time, that he was in a strange mood. He was as sweet and polite as ever when he wished me a good night, and as usual, he ignored my protestations and disappeared outside.

But I wasn’t stupid. Something had changed on that roof, and even though I could not name it, I sensed it all the same. For some reason, things were different now. For some reason, he did not want to spend as much time with me as he had done in the past. I still saw him, but it seemed that every time, he was only just passing and didn’t have the time to address me more than a few, meaningless words. He was still as polite and as kind as he had always been, but there was something different. Deep inside, I felt that now, he was only just being civil. Something had been lost, and it hurt me more than I would have thought. Deprived of his company, I found the days longer and emptier than ever before.

I could easily have left at that point. Days were not as full and interesting as they’d once been. My ties with the circus seemed to loosen a little more every day. But I didn’t do it. I didn’t leave. Even in my confused state of mind, I could see very clearly that if I left now, it would be the end of it all. And I couldn’t, I simply couldn’t, leave on such a note. Some things had been left on hold, pushed aside, and if I left, then I would never have the chance to get an answer to the many questions that were still floating in my head.

So I stayed. Against my better judgment, I stayed.

Days went by slowly, in the circus. People around were just going on with their lives, enjoying the time that they were not spending on the road, resting – mostly –, and also rehearsing for the next show. The temporary change in their habits also brought a change in the functioning of the group. They were spending less time all together, even though everyone still assembled for dinner, and they were splitting into smaller groups: families or close friends. My time was mostly spent with Merry, trying to help her in every way that I could in the hope of repaying to the circus a tiny part of all that I owed them; and with Émilie. I saw Daniel less. He spent a lot of his own time with the tigers, and I wasn’t sure I appreciated the company of these animals as much as he did. There were also moments when he seemed nowhere to be found. And the rest of his time was entirely dedicated to Émilie.

When I couldn’t find Merry or Émilie, I stayed alone. Mostly, I wandered in the camp, never straying too far from Rufus’ caravan. I didn’t want to be inside of it too much, in case Rufus wanted to use it. And I feared to go in the town for two reasons. The first was that I felt safer in the circus. The presence of everyone else gave me the impression that I was protected from soldiers. The second reason was slightly different from the first one, but as selfish. Part of me was afraid that if I wandered too far, if I stayed away for too long, I would come back to discover that they had left without me. I don’t know what I would have done if that had happened. I would probably have been a better thing… for them, in any case. But I did not want to think about it.

But I felt that I had somehow lost Rufus’ friendship, and things were not the same anymore.

“What could I do?” I asked Émilie one day that we were sitting on the steps in front of her caravan, looking at the field that was drying after a rather heavy rain. I had told her about the way things had turned out with Rufus, although there was no need to. She had already noticed.

I was mortified at the thought that maybe, if it was that obvious, everyone else in the circus had noticed that Rufus and I were not on as friendly terms as before, and that maybe they all knew the reason of that. All except me. And how could I do something if I didn’t even know what was wrong in the first place?

Émilie picked up a flower from the grass, and softly blew on it. Tiny droplets of water fell on her knees.

“I don’t like this town much,” she said softly. “There aren’t many interesting plants around here. None that can be very useful for remedies, anyway…”

There was a short silence, but then, as I was still looking at her, she spoke again. “I don’t know,” she said. She lifted her head, and looked at the sky for a moment. Unconsciously, I did the same. Grey clouds were hanging above our heads, but in some places they were starting break, and small bits of blue skies were visible. There wasn’t much sun yet, but the thin rays that pierced through the clouds at places where the sky was visible made me hope that after the heavy shower that we’d had this morning, we would at least get a clear afternoon.

“I cannot say that I always understand Rufus,” Émilie said. “That would be a lie. He’s always been a bit of mystery to all those around him…” She shrugged her shoulders lightly. “Well, to all of us anyway,” she corrected. “But I know him enough to tell you that he’s not really mad or angry. He’s just trying…” She sighed, seemingly having difficulties to phrase what she was thinking in an understandable way. “Oh, I don’t know what he’s trying to do, or I don’t know how to say it properly anyway!” she exclaimed, a little irritated, “but he’s just thinking about something, and it takes him time before he finds the perfect way to say things.”

I frowned. “I had never gotten that impression,” I mumbled.

Émilie shrugged her shoulders again, and dismissed my remark with a wave of her hand. “Oh, of course not,” she said. “Rufus doesn’t have any problem talking in public, or making his opinion known.” She had a little smirk. “But when it comes to more important matters, or when he’s struggling with something that he is not quite used to or simply when it comes down to expressing more personal things, he likes to take his time, to find the right way of saying things. And in my opinion, that is exactly what’s going on. He’s struggling with something that he thinks important, and that is occupying all of his time.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. I liked this idea that Rufus was not keeping his distances with me for some reason that would be unknown, but that his mind was just too full with other problems. But unfortunately, I wasn’t entirely convinced with Émilie’s explanation.

“Yes. Don’t worry too much. As soon as he’s found the right way to say what he is thinking about, he’ll tell you, and you’ll realize that he was never angry at you, or any other stupid thought that you might have had… Like he could ever be angry at you…” She laughed lightly.

I frowned, and tried not to wince. I did not really understand what she meant by that last remark, and why it was making her laugh. And I didn’t like the fact that, from what she was saying, Rufus’ strange behavior did have something to do with me.

“Let’s talk about something else,” Émilie said more joyfully as she stood up and as, from the steps of her caravan, she jumped into the grass. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve spent so many days in this camp that I could really do with a bit of walking. We’ve had the last show in this town yesterday, but we’re not leaving until Friday. And I have nothing to do for the entire afternoon, something that hasn’t happened in… oh, so long that I can’t even count.”

I tried not to sigh when she said that they weren’t leaving until Friday. That only left me two days to understand what was going on with Rufus. Whether I stayed with the circus a little longer or not, I wanted to know what I had done or said that had made him react this way, and I wanted to know it before the circus left town.

“What do you propose to do?” I asked Émilie.

She had a small smile. “Like I said, there’s nothing to do today, and we won’t have to worry about packing up until tomorrow evening. I wondered whether you wanted to accompany me in the woods over there... I’ve been wanting to go since we arrived. But until now I haven’t found the time to do it, or the person that would be willing to accompany me.” She shot me another smile, one that was obviously destined to influence me in a positive way.

There was no need to influence me, though. I was very happy to have something to do. And I feared the woods much less than I feared the town.

I had trudged through a few forests and woods during my life, but exploring them with Émilie was something entirely different. My incursions in those places had always been dictated by the necessity to take the shortest way, or to find a place where I could feel hidden for a moment. I sometimes chose that road because I feared the possible dangers that I would find there less than the ones that were certainly awaiting me in more populated areas. But that didn’t mean that I had enjoyed the time spent there, or that I had spent more time there than was needed. I crossed those parts, and that was that. I did not take the time to wander around, and I certainly did not take the time to examine things that I would come across.

Émilie did things in an entirely different way. Her walks in the wood were not dictated by necessity. She went there because she truly enjoyed it. She paid attention to all the little things. She paid attention to the way light shone through the leaves, to the sound of the leaves going through the branches… She could spot and name plants that I had never even noticed before. She could also tell what these plants could be used for, and picked some of them to bring them back to the camp.

When we came back, I was incredibly tired, despite the fact that all that we had done was wandering around, but I also felt undeniably happy with how the afternoon had been spent. While we were there, exploring, Émilie had told me about a few stories about the circus, most of which I hadn’t heard before, and I had learned a lot about everyone here. The day was nearing its end, as we entered the camp again, and I can’t say that I wasn’t happy about it. The sun was starting to set, disappearing behind the tall buildings of the town. I was waiting for the moment when I would be able to fall asleep, and chase all the worries off my mind. Not to mention that after an entire afternoon spent in the forest, my body desperately needed to rest, too.

I bid quick goodbyes to Émilie, promising to see her again when dinner time would come. She had to prepare the few plants that she had been picking up in the woods; and I, more selfishly, wanted time to myself, to simply rest.

I returned to Rufus’ caravan, secretly hoping to find him there. He was not there. I softly knocked on the door, called his name, and waited. When there was no answer, I slowly opened the door. The inside of the caravan was deserted. I sighed. I couldn’t help it. I was disappointed. I missed Rufus’ presence, even though we had only ever spent rather short moments together. I missed our discussions. It was only with him that I felt comfortable enough to discuss more serious matters. I wanted to find him and talk to him, but I had no idea where he was. I hadn’t seen him all day. I hadn’t seen him as we crossed the camp to go to the woods, and I hadn’t seen him as I walked back here. He seemed to have disappeared.

He wasn’t there when we dined either. I searched for him through the crowd, but didn’t find his face. I sat there with everyone else, and soon Daniel and Émilie showed up, sitting not far away. Daniel started the conversation, talking to me about a place that he had visited during his youth, and that was going to be the next stop of the circus. His description was so vivid that I wondered, for a moment, how it was possible. But, and despite how interesting Daniel’s tale was, I couldn’t pay it as much attention as it was worth. I had other things on my mind, and I couldn’t shake them away.

I left the others early. If I couldn’t find a solution to all that was troubling me, then I could at least rest. The sky was not completely dark yet, and the setting sun was casting its last orange rays. I quickly returned to the caravan. None of the things that had happened today had helped me with the decision that I would have to take, at some point.

Lying on the bed, I observed the sky through the tiny window of the caravan. It turned completely grey before getting a dark shade of blue. I saw it become darker and darker, before the stars were lit, and the moon appeared behind the clouds. It wasn’t full yet, but would be soon, and was bright enough to lighten the surroundings. Once again all had gone quiet in the camp. They had all fallen asleep. But I couldn’t.

Standing up from the bed, as obviously it was useless to try to fall asleep for the moment, I went to sit on the caravan floor. I hesitated for a moment, and eventually took my bag, carefully, and one by one I took out the book and contemplated them for a moment. Again, I wondered what to do with them. They were the cause of all my problems. And if they were not entirely responsible for the situation that I found myself in, then they had certainly played a great part in it nonetheless. Like so many times before, I considered getting rid of them. And like so many times before, I decided against it.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only who couldn’t fall asleep, for there was a soft knock on the door. The first time I heard it, I thought I had dreamt it. But the knocking resounded again, and I frowned. I felt suspicion invade me. Who could it be, I wondered. Who would be knocking at such a late hour, and for what reason? I hesitated before getting up. At night, it was always better to be careful, more than during the day. But the knocking resounded one last time, and I eventually decided that I was safe enough in the circus.

I opened the door, and was only half surprised to see Rufus standing there, on the steps. He looked at me, and I looked at him, for quite a moment. Then he took a sharp breath.

“Excuse me if I wake you up,” he said. He seemed very agitated, nervous.

“You didn’t wake me up,” I reassured him. I wondered what he was doing there, what he wanted, what had happened…

He didn’t seem like he was sure what to do. It was strange, and unusual, to see him like this. Rufus had always seemed to be very much in control of everything. So I didn’t know what to do either. Obviously something had happened, something important. That was the only reason I could see to his presence here, now. When I was done wondering what this could mean, I realized that I had been standing in the entrance all this time, blocking the way, and probably giving him the impression that he wasn’t welcome. I took a step back to allow him in. He stepped in, and turned the lights on.

“Is there something wrong?” I eventually asked, worriedly, because Rufus still hadn’t said anything.

He seemed torn between answering ‘yes’ and ‘no’. Then eventually he shook his head.

“There’s something I want to tell you. I’ve thought for a long time about how I was going to put this in words,” he said, talking eventually.

“And have you found how?”

“No,” he said. “No. I’ve tried to find the words that would convince you to stay with us, but I found none that seemed to fit. So I’ll just say it as it is. Please, stay with us. Don’t leave just now. Please.”

I stared at him and could not speak. How many times, when I was alone, had I not wished deep in my heart, to hear him ask this? It was a thought, a dream, that I had always kept t myself. I would never have dared to speak about this to anyone else, for fear of what it would imply. In broad daylight, I had never dared to think about it too much, persuaded that it would make things much more real, and that it would confront me to things that I did not really want to face. Because that was the only thing that would have pushed the thought of leaving the circus, far off my mind: if Rufus had just asked me to stay…

And he was doing so now. I’d always thought that it was a dreamed that I had, a fancy thing that I contemplated at night when there was no one around to see the look on my face. But now Rufus was asking me to stay, and I didn’t know what to do, let alone what to answer.

“You don’t say anything,” Rufus said softly, disappointed.

I wanted to say something, I really did, but I felt overwhelmed. No coherent thought could form in my brain. The poor thing kept going back to the words that Rufus had just said, and couldn’t focus on anything else. I kept on replaying the moment in my head, trying to remember the look on Rufus’ face, the tone that he had used. Did he just want me to stay? Did that imply something else?

Mistaking my silence for what it wasn’t, Rufus spoke again, in an attempt to justify himself.

“I know that I have no right to try and influence you. And I don’t want to. The decision is yours. And whatever you decide, you have to do it for yourself, and not for someone else. But… Before you decided, I wanted to let you know that you can stay here as long as you wish, it’s really no problem. I… we all want you to stay. I thought it was important that you knew…” He stopped. Suddenly, and unexpectedly, he laughed. “Look at me,” he said when the laughter had calmed down. He shook his head. “I’m not really good with those things, can you tell?” There was a twinkle in his eyes. “Let’s just end this here, before I make a complete fool of myself. I’ll leave you alone now. It’s better. If you want to discuss things, I’ll be at your disposal tomorrow. If you don’t… well…”

At last, I recovered enough of my concentration, to speak.

“Rufus!”

I had never realized that my own voice sounded so strange.

He looked at me questioningly, and I had no other choice but continue. The trouble was, I wasn’t exactly sure what I was going to say.

“You do not want me to leave?” I asked. “But w-why?”

His answer came immediately, honest. “You’re a great person, Aimée. I like being with you, spending time with you. I like talking to you. I can tell you things that I don’t tell to anyone else here.” All of this seemed so evident to him that he did not hesitate once when he spoke. “I don’t want you to go. I want to have more of these moments…”

I did not know what to answer. Perhaps he waited for me to come up with a declaration in quite similar terms, but I was much too busy trying to assimilate all that I’d heard.

“You’re making this so much harder,” I eventually said, and it was evident that it wasn’t the answer that he’d been waiting for. “I know that I have to go. But I wish I could stay.” I was frustrated with my incapacity to express the exact nature of my sentiments. I just wanted to tell all of the truth and see where it would leave me, but it was not that easy to get rid of a feeling of suspicion that had built up during years of travel.

Rufus took a step forward. For a second, it looked like he was going for some sort of reassuring hug, but then he hesitated, and the right moment passed. We both stood there, awkwardly looking at each other.

“Sorry if I made you feel even more confused, it was not my intention,” Rufus said, and the awkwardness disappeared.

“Don’t be sorry for that,” I said, meeting his eyes.

The kiss came naturally. I can’t recall who initiated it, exactly. It just happened. I was soft, at first, but not hesitant. And it was sort of… comfortable. I don’t mean comfortable in the sense that there was no … spark or whatever you want to call it. There was all that. There was the anticipation, the tension that grew and grew inside me. But it was comfortable because I realized that I had always known it was coming.

It stopped too soon for my liking, and left us both wondering what to do next. I wished it would have lasted longer. Because if it had, reason wouldn’t have come galloping back so soon, with its nasty little voice telling me about how dangerous the consequences of this could be. Not only for me. For Rufus. Mostly for Rufus. There were still so many things that he didn’t know about me. What if I ended up putting him in danger? And as we stood there, wondering what step we should take next, I grew more and more desperate for some time to think. Rufus wasn’t long to notice the change in my expression.

“Aimée?” he asked.

“I… I need one minute to think,” I said weakly. “I just need… I need one minute.”

I headed to the door, wondering what to do. Should I tell him? The fresh air hit my face, but I paid it no attention. I zigzagged between the caravans, thinking that walking fast would help me find a solution even faster. Should I leave? I wanted to stay. I’d always wanted to stay, but now I could no longer deny it? But what to do, then? How could I make sure that Rufus remained safe? I could make sure that he was safe by leaving, of course, but I had reached the point where leaving would actually hurt, now.

It took only one minute, two at best, before I realized that I couldn’t just leave Rufus like that, that I had to offer an explanation for my behavior. It was at the same moment that I realized its absence.

I never went anywhere without the bag in which my mother’s books were kept. It wasn’t safe to always have it around, but I didn’t trust to leave it anywhere else. It was always with me. But now it wasn’t. I had stayed inside the caravan. And the book, the books were on the ground still. In full display.

I don’t know if I thought that if I returned to the caravan fast enough, I would be able to hide them before anyone saw. Because there was only one person awake right now, one person that could have seen them. And I was half-hoping that he had followed me outside. I had thought I had heard him calling me as I left, I had thought I had heard his footsteps following. So my secret had to be safe, for the time being.

When I reached the caravan, there was no sign of Rufus, neither outside of it, nor in the part of the caravan that I could see from the door. I quickly climbed the steps.

When I looked inside, Rufus was still there. He was sitting on the bed, and one of the books was in his hands.