Fading, Like the Stars

“There, there, little bird,” the plump woman murmured as she dabbed my wounds with a wet cloth and applied some green mixture on my ankle. “In a couple of days these won’t be more than a memory.”

I had been observing the inside of her caravan, full of odds and ends, some things new and shiny, others old and dusty. The light of candles danced across the room, and the shadows reflected on the wooden walls seemed to have a life of their own. When the woman spoke, my eyes went back to her. Her face was smiling, with red, full cheeks, but the wrinkles around her mouth and near the corners of her eyes seemed to tell the story of a life that hadn’t been devoid of worries and sorrows. She had red hair that was largely streaked with grey already, and in the dim light of the caravan, I could not make out the color of her eyes.

“Thank you… Madam…” I muttered, still not really understanding how exactly I had ended up there.

She smiled. “Oh, don’t call me Madam,” her smile grew brighter. “I’m Merveille. But it’s alright if you just call me Merry.”

I nodded. “I’m Aimée…” I whispered, extending a hand.

Instead of taking it, she hugged me. Nobody had hugged me since my mother had died, and suddenly I felt like I was going to cry. Merry seemed to sense it, because she quietly pulled away.

“It’s alright, Aimée,” she said, gently patting my shoulders. “People are free here…”

She had only just spoken that there was a shock, like a bump, and that the caravan seemed like it was on the move, suddenly. I choked, looking around to try and understand.

“We’re leaving,” Merry explained with a gentle smile.

“Leaving?” I whispered, my brow furrowing.

Merry’s smile turned into a knowing one. “Yes,” she said softly. “I don’t think you will mind putting a couple of miles between you and the town, am I wrong?”

I shook my head. No, I didn’t mind.

“Of course, you’re free to leave us as soon as you want,” Merry added, “though I would personally recommend a rest. You look terrible.”

I nodded, trying to process everything that had happened to me today. My eyes landed on the clean white curtains on the tiny window of the caravan, and I lost myself in the contemplation of the laced patterns for a moment. But my thoughts quickly floated back to my current situation. With a small sigh, I turned my head to look at Merry again. She was busying herself in the corner of the room that seemed to serve as a kitchen. She had an old brass kettle in her hands, and seemed to be making tea.

“Merry?” I asked, and she turned round. Her eyes roamed my face, the hint of a worried look in them.

“Yes?” she spoke softly.

“Won’t anyone mind, though… you know…. my being here?”

“Don’t you worry about that,” she said, flapping her hands as if she was trying to chase the idea out of the caravan.

I registered that she had told me not to worry, rather than saying that no one would mind, and I put that in a corner of my mind, promising myself to think about it again later. But for now, I had more questions to ask. More pressing matters.

“Merry?” I asked again.

Leaving the kettle on the tiny stove, she came to sit down next to me, on the seat full of old, colorful cushions.

“The… person who… brought me here…” I began to say. From the corner of my eye, I could see that Merry was scrutinizing me, an undecipherable expression painted on her face. I lowered my face, though I did not really know why I was doing it. “I… he didn’t even say his name,” I finished, talking very quickly.

“Rufus.”

“Rufus,” I repeated, “is that his name?”

Next to me, Merry nodded.

“Where did he go?” I asked, trying to sound casual rather than curious.

“He’s got his own caravan to move,” Merry quietly answered.

I nodded, and silence fell upon us, disturbed only by the sound of the caravan jolting on the road, and of Merry’s trinkets occasionally bumping against each other. Merry closed her eyes, apparently enjoying all these little familiar sounds. But I had another question that I wanted an answer to, and I couldn’t keep my lips sealed any longer.

“He helped me…” I eventually said. “That Rufus, he helped me. Why would he do that?”

Helping others was such an unusual gesture in the world we lived in. It was a legitimate question, I thought.

“Rufus helps people. That’s what he does. It’s in his heart,” Merry said simply, and I understood that if I wanted to know more, I would have to ask that Rufus.

The kettle whistled, and Merry stood up, pouring the water in a porcelain teapot with flowery patterns on it. After a few seconds, she poured the liquid that now seemed to have a golden color into two cups, and, coming back to me, she handed me what I assumed to be tea.

“Is this a circus?” I asked after some hesitation, not wanting to bother her with my questions, but curious to know the answers nonetheless.

“Barnes’ circus.” Merry confirmed.

“I’ve never been in a circus before.”

“Oh, it’s merely just a few people travelling in the same direction in old caravans full of bits and pieces,” Merry said, but her tone told me that it was much more than that.

I examined Merry’s caravan again. It was indeed old and full of bits and pieces, but in my heart I knew that this was the only part of her description that was correct. I didn’t know if she had pretended that it was nothing special because she thought that it would not interest me, or because the circus had secrets of its own that I was not allowed to know. One thought following another, I realized that I had completely forgotten about my own secret.

My books….

“My bag,” I breathed, fear obscuring my vision. “My bag, where is it?”

“There,” Merry said quietly, indicating a corner of the caravan.

I followed her gaze and my eyes landed on my bag, lying in on the floor, untouched. “Oh.” Relief washed over me, and I shot Merry a small smile.

“You should drink,” she said as she brought her own cup to her lips. “It’s getting cold.”

I took a gulp of the golden liquid, and immediately tasted that it wasn’t tea, like I had expected to be.

“Tisane,” Merry clarified upon seeing the frown on my face. “Will help you relax so that your body heals more quickly. We have a very good herbalist…”

I nodded, and took another gulp of the drink. Once you got pass the initial bitterness of the drink, it didn’t have a disagreeable taste at all, actually.

“You should rest for the moment, Aimée,” Merry added. “You can sleep on this seat for the moment, even if…”

There was worry laced in her voice again, but I didn’t have the time to ask what was concerning her. I felt my cup slip out of my hand, and suddenly my eyes closed.

When my eyelids fluttered open, it was already dark outside. The steady movement of the caravan had stopped, and I understood that we had come to a halt. I had slumped on the seat, falling asleep in a pretty uncomfortable position. My eyes travelled across the small caravan, searching for its owner. I eventually saw her, sitting on a chair, in a corner of the room. She was silent, her eyes fixed on my face, her fingers distractedly fiddling with the chain around her neck.

I opened my mouth and tried to speak, feeling like I had eaten cotton. “Whaaap…”

“Ah, Aimée, you’re awake my dear,” Merry said lightly. “How are you feeling?”

I sat up, trying to regain a bit of dignity. “What happened?” I eventually managed to say.

“You slept,” Merry answered quietly.

“I know that I slept, but… just like that?” I grumbled, not believing a word of it.

Merry nodded.

“Give me the truth,” I said, “what was in that tisane?” I knew that I hadn’t fallen asleep just like that. There was certainly something strange at work in this circus. And I hadn’t survived this long because I was stupid and couldn’t tell when people were lying to me. There was something weird going on here, and I wasn’t going to be easily fooled. My life before that of others, always…

“Oh, herbs,” Merry replied, getting up from her chair and walking towards me, “I told you, we have a very good herbalist.”

I instinctively retreated into a corner, my back slamming against the seat, when she approached me.

Merry had a little laugh. “Oh, don’t be stupid, you needed some rest, untroubled and peaceful rest, and I have given you just that. How do you feel? Hungry, I presume.”

She was right, of course. Despite that insane race on the rooftops, I was feeling better than I had in days, perhaps even weeks. For the first time since long, I wasn’t tired at all. I had slept without worrying about what was going to happen to me when I would wake up – if I ever woke up – , and it had certainly done me a great deal of good. And she was right for another thing. I was indeed hungry. Decent meals were scarce, in my situation, and, as Merry spoke, I suddenly longed for something more consistent than a slice of bread or a stolen apple.

I cautiously observed Merveille before I answered. Deep inside my heart, something told me that I could trust her. But my brain told me otherwise. You were never too careful. Better safe than sorry. I would keep an eye on her, on everyone here, just in case. And I was going to leave the circus as soon as it reached a new town.

“Yes,” I admitted when I eventually spoke. “I am a little hungry.”

Merry smiled. “Good. Very good. Let’s get outside and see if there’s any food left.”

She offered me a hand to help me get up, and I took it with a grateful smile. “Thanks… for the help,” I mumbled as she opened the door of her small caravan. I couldn’t help but feel guilty that I did not trust her completely despite the fact that she had been so kind to me.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Merveille said lightly as she walked down the few steps of her caravan.

I followed her, grabbing my bag as I refused to part with it. I stepped outside, marveling at what I saw. The sky had grown completely dark, turning into a dark, velvety, star-studded veil. The only light came from the fires that had been lit in the field and the lanterns that hung on the sides of the caravans. But what a light it was. Twinkling, warm and welcoming light, that immediately caused a warmth to grow inside my chest.

“I’ll get us two plates,” Merry said, and without waiting for my answer, she disappeared into the darkness.

I sat down on the steps as I waited for Merveille to return, and observed the people that were busying themselves on the plain. I would have thought that there would be more people living in a circus, but I only counted around fifteen people. They were all walking in every direction, searching for food, tending to the horses, or preparing themselves for the night. Jokes and kind words were exchanged when they met each other, and I stared at them dreamily. It was the first time ever that I witnessed such an atmosphere of camaraderie and that I felt such a feeling of community. The spirit here was so different from what I had been accustomed to in the many cities that I’d travelled through that I could hardly believe that this was real.

Sometimes, one of them would pass in front of the place where I was sitting, but they did not seem worried or surprised to find me there. They would just nod their head at me, and sometimes even give me a small smile. There were people of all kinds, just like I could see in the huge crowds in the cities, but there was a feeling of liveliness about the people living in the circus that I’d never gotten anywhere else.

Merry did not come back immediately, but it didn’t really bother me. I watched everything around me with wide, delighted eyes. What I saw in front of me was so colorful, so joyous, that I was glad that, despite all the bad things that had lead to my presence here, I was had been given the chance to witness a scene like that one. It was filling my heart with such an elating feeling of hope… Humanity wasn’t completely lost, I saw it now. There was still hope.

Merry eventually came back, holding in her hands two largely filled plates of food.

“Was a bit long,” she apologized, “but I think you’ll find it was worth waiting.”

I took the plate that she was handing me, thanking her again. The food was warm, smoke spiraling into the cold night air, and the aroma was so tempting that my mouth began to water at the simple smell of it.

“Come on, eat before it’s cold,” Merry encouraged me. “It’s not poison, you know….”

I blushed, slightly ashamed of my previous reactions. Merry sat down on the steps, next to me, and began to eat. With a move of her head, she told me to do the same. I ate without saying a word, not lifting my eyes from my food. It took only a few minutes for me to empty the plate.

“Thank you,” I said again, softly, as I put down my plate. I was amazed that just warm food and a few kind words managed to make me feel so good. “I was very lucky to be brought to you…”

Merry nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Yes, you were lucky indeed to meet Rufus.”

Rufus. A small smile, that I tried to hide quickly, appeared on my face as I thought about the tall man who’d brought me here in the first place.

“I should… I should find him and thank him for that… perhaps,” I murmured, glancing at Merveille to see what she was thinking.

“He didn’t do it to be thanked, but I’m sure that’d make him happy. He would be very pleased, I think, to see that you’re well.”

I nodded. “Well,” I added. “I’ll do that. But maybe it’s better to wait for tomorrow morning, I wouldn’t want to bother…”

“Why wait?” Merry asked, interrupting me. With a move of her head, she motioned at me to look at my right.

I turned my head, my eyes travelling across the plain, sometimes lingering on one or another member of the circus, until they landed on him. Rufus was sitting alone at the far end of the field, on a wooden log, next to a crackling fire. I gazed at him for a moment, trying to recall the exact circumstances of our meeting. It had happened only this morning, but somehow it now seemed like an eternity ago to me. I was still amazed that someone who didn’t even know me had come to my help just for the beauty of the gesture. Merveille had said that it was his habit to help people even if he didn’t know them, but I still found it wonderful, though extremely weird, that he’d done so.

Almost as if he had felt my gaze on him, Rufus moved uncomfortably, and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. The light of the fire was giving his hair an almost red tint, and the sparkling flames were reflected in his eyes. I sighed. I wanted to show my gratitude, but there was something intimidating about him.

“Who is he, exactly…” I asked, looking away from Rufus and back at Merveille. Somehow I felt that if I knew more about him, he would be less intimidating. I didn’t know why I even bothered. I would be gone in a few days, maybe less, and I highly doubted that I would ever meet him again after that.

“That’s something you have to ask him,” Merry replied quietly.

She was right, once again, but I couldn’t help feeling curious. It was natural, I told myself. That man had after all saved my life. A bit of curiosity was a natural thing. I glanced back at the field, at the lights and at all the people that seemed so content of being there. But my eyes eventually landed back on Rufus, like I couldn’t help it.

He extended his hands, warming them near the fire. Suddenly, a woman appeared behind him. She placed a hand on his shoulder, and he turned his head to look at her. With a small smile, he indicated her to sit next to him. She did so, and for a moment, the pair remained silent.

“And she, who is she?” I asked softly, trying to sound as if I was asking it out of boredom rather than out of interest.

“Émilie,” Merry replied, hiding the smirk that had appeared on her face. “I mentioned her before, I think. She’s our herbalist.”

I bit my lips, and observed the herbalist. She had dark hair that fell on her shoulders in gracious curls, and she seemed happy, much happier than I had ever been in my life. Her eyes, eyes that were sparkling with life, rested on the fire for a moment, but then she turned to look at Rufus. He didn’t seem to notice it immediately as his eyes remained focused on the fire burning in front of him.

“Those two have been friends since she joined us,” Merry said, and somehow, I felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. “She’s perhaps his only friend. He doesn’t really care for friends, Rufus. He’s not really close to anyone here. But Émilie is not the kind of person to leave anyone friendless.”

Merry whispered the last words very softly, and I returned my gaze to the couple once more. The herbalist had placed a hand on Rufus’ arm, and she was talking to him softly. He nodded once and whispered some words in return. She laughed happily, tilting her head backwards and looking at the night sky. Then she stood up, patted his shoulder one last time, and walked away. He looked at her as she left, then turned his head and looked pensively at the fire again.

“Go,” Merry said softly, gently pushing me.

I looked at her inquisitively, not sure I knew what she was talking about. Oh, I thought I knew, of course, but I didn’t want to make a fool of myself in case I was wrong.

“Go,” she repeated, “if you want to talk to Rufus, it’s now. You never know where he could be tomorrow.”

I looked at her with wide, worried eyes. Part of me wanted to tell her that I didn’t want to talk to Rufus. I knew I had to thank him, but he intimidated me, and I had no idea what to say to him. Before I could do so, however, Merry pushed me in the back. I tumbled down the few steps. I shot Merry an annoyed look, but she just shrugged and waved her hand, encouraging me to go.

I crossed the field at a slow pace, wracking my mind for something to say to him. I passed a few people on my way, but none seemed to pay much attention to me. Two children running nearly bumped into me, and apologized quickly, their mind already on the next game they were going to play. I dismissed them with a smile. Then I was standing next to he who had saved my life. He didn’t seem to notice me, at first, and I hesitated on what to do, nervously shifting my weight from one leg to the other, searching for the right words to say.

Without even looking away from the crackling fire that was sending sparks out in the sky, he patted the place next to him.

“Sit down,” he said in a smooth voice. “Unless you really want to stand…”

His eyes flickered to my face. The fire was reflected in his pupils, and I could see the flames dancing in his eyes.

“Or maybe you just don’t want to sit next to me,” he said softly, looking back at the fire.