Water for Elephants

August marches off. I turn back to Rosie. She stares at me, a look of unspeakable sadness on her face. Her amber eyes are filled with tears.

I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN he’d go from hotel to hotel. But I wasn’t thinking, and so she’s in the second hotel we came across. Couldn’t be easier to find.

I know I’m being watched, so I bide my time. At the first opportunity, I slip from the lot and rush to the hotel. I wait around the corner for a minute, watching, making sure I wasn’t followed. After I’ve caught my breath, I remove my hat, wipe my forehead, and enter the building.

The clerk looks up. It’s a new one. His eyes glaze over.

“What do you want?” he says, as though he’s seen me before, as though battered rotten tomatoes walk through his door every day.

“I’m here to see Miss L’Arche,” I say, remembering that Marlena has checked in using her maiden name. “Marlena L’Arche.”

“There is no one here by that name,” he says.

“Yes, of course there is,” I say. “I was with her when she checked in this morning.”

“I’m sorry, but you’re incorrect.”

I stare at him for a moment and then sprint for the stairs.

“Hey, pal! You get back here!”

I mount the steps, two at a time.

“If you go up those stairs, I’m calling the police!” he shouts.

“Go ahead!”

“I’m doing it! I’m calling right now!”

“Good!”

I rap on her door with my least-bruised knuckles. “Marlena?”

A second later, the clerk grabs me and spins me around, shoving me against the wall. He has me by the lapels, his face right in mine. “I told you before, she’s not here.”

“It’s all right, Albert. This is a friend.” Marlena has come out into the hallway behind us.

He freezes, panting hot breath on me. His eyes widen in confusion. “What?” he says.

“Albert?” I say, equally confused. “Albert?”

“But what about earlier?” sputters Albert.

“This isn’t the same man. This is another one.”

“August was here?” I say, finally clueing in. “Are you okay?”

Albert jerks around from me to her and back again.

“This is a friend. This is the man who fought him,” Marlena explains.

Albert lets me down. He makes an awkward attempt to smooth my jacket and then extends his hand. “Sorry, pal. You look an awful lot like that other guy.”

“Uh, that’s all right,” I say, taking his hand. He squeezes and I wince.

“He’s coming after you,” I say to Marlena. “We’ve got to move you.”

“Don’t be silly,” Marlena says.

“He’s already been,” says Albert. “I told him she wasn’t here and he seemed to buy it. That’s why I was surprised when you—he—er, showed up again.”

Downstairs, the bell over the front door tinkles. Albert and I lock eyes. I hustle Marlena into the room, and he hurries down.

“May I help you?” he says as I close the door. I can tell from his voice that it’s not August.

I lean against the door, breathing hard with relief. “I’d really feel better if you let me find you a room farther from the lot.”

“No. I want to stay here.”

“But why?”

“He’s already been here and he thinks I’m somewhere else. Besides, it’s not like I can avoid him forever. I have to go back to the train tomorrow.”

I hadn’t even thought of that.

She crosses the room, dragging a hand across the top of the small table as she passes. Then she drops into a chair and rests her head against its back.

“He tried to apologize to me,” I say.

“And did you accept it?”

“Of course not,” I say, offended.

She shrugs. “It would be easier for you if you did. If you don’t, you’ll probably get fired.”

“He hit you, Marlena!”

She closes her eyes.

“My God—has he always been like this?”

“Yes. Well, he’s never hit me before. But these mood swings? Yes. I never know what I’m going to wake up to.”

“Uncle Al said he’s a paranoid schizophrenic.”

She drops her head.

“How have you stood it?”

“I didn’t have much choice, did I? I married him before I realized. You’ve seen it. When he’s happy, he’s the most charming creature on earth. But when something sets him off . . .” She sighs, and then waits so long I wonder if she’s going to continue. When she does, her voice is tremulous. “The first time it happened we’d only been married three weeks, and it scared me to death. He beat one of the menagerie workers so badly he lost an eye. I saw him do it. I called my parents and asked if I could come home, but they wouldn’t even speak to me. It was bad enough that I’d married a Jew, but now I wanted a divorce as well? My father made Mother tell me that in his eyes I had died the day I eloped.”

I cross the room and kneel beside her. I raise my hand to stroke her hair, but after a few seconds place it on the arm of the chair instead.

“Three weeks later, another menagerie man lost his arm while helping August feed the cats. He died of blood loss before anyone could find out the details. Later in the season I found out that the only reason August had a string of liberty horses to give me was that the previous trainer—another woman—jumped from the moving train after joining August for an evening in his stateroom. There have been other incidents, too, although this is the first time he’s turned on me.” She slumps forward. A moment later her shoulders shake.

“Oh, hey,” I say, helplessly. “Hey now. Hey now. Marlena—look at me. Please.”

She sits up and wipes her face. She stares into my eyes. “Will you stay with me, Jacob?” she says.

“Marlena—”

“Shh.” She scootches to the edge of her seat and touches a finger to my lips. Then she slides to the ground. She kneels in front of me, just inches away, her finger trembling against my lips.

“Please,” she says. “I need you.” After the slightest pause, she traces my features—tentatively, softly, barely grazing my skin. I catch my breath and close my eyes.

“Marlena—”

“Don’t say anything,” she says softly. Her fingers flutter their way around my ear and down the back of my neck. I shudder. Every hair on my body is standing on end.

When her hands move to my shirt, I open my eyes. She undoes the buttons slowly, methodically. I watch her, knowing I should stop her. But I can’t. I am helpless.

When my shirt is open she pulls it free of my trousers and looks me in the eye. She leans forward and brushes her lips past mine—so softly it’s not even a kiss, merely contact. She pauses for just a second, keeping her lips so close I can feel her breath on my face. Then she leans in and kisses me, a gentle kiss, tentative but lingering. The next kiss is stronger still, the next one even more so, and before I know it I’m kissing back, clutching her face in both my hands as she runs her fingers over my chest and down my body. When she reaches for my trousers, I gasp. She pauses, tracing the outline of my erection.

She stops. I am reeling, teetering on my knees. Still staring into my eyes, she takes my hands and brings them to her lips. She presses a kiss into each palm and then places my hands on her breasts.

“Touch me, Jacob.”