Blessed Virgin of the Circus- 21.


It happened in the middle of morning acro practice. Jerry doubled over in pain clutching his side, a couple of people rushing in to help. Mara only vaguely wondered when the sirens awoke both her and Yana. She didn’t hear the news conclusively until three hours later, after Yana had made the rounds.

“LaShawn said he was complaining of a pain in his side.”

“He is pretty old, but in good shape. I mean I think he lies about his age.”

“Maybe. He never seemed to hide that he was in his late 50s.”

Mara scoffed.

“It was probably his appendix or his spleen.”

“Ok.”

Tito, the new guy in the acro cast, and Annie took over morning acro, and occasionally Mara would start attending morning sessions, even though she wasn’t required to with her late nights. By fall run in Phoenix she might be qualified for full cast again.

Yana and Mara fell back into the groove of practicing their sister act. Yana was getting strongly back into shape quickly. Jerry returned to the site after his surgery. After some time resting, he called LaShawn into his trailer.

“I’m going to take this as a sign that I should retire. I think I’ve gone too long too far away from my home and my husband. Consider this your two weeks’ notice.” He cracked a feeble smile.

LaShawn was surprised to see Jerry felled in such a way, but he certainly could not object. Everyone knew that Jerry was an old-timer as far as everything was concerned, and maybe his time of rest was nigh.

**

Mara received the news late the next night. She was surprised that her heart would feel so conflicted about the situation, but deep down she experienced relief. The bonds would be broken, her fear would be quelled. Never again would she awaken, wondering if he was creeping up near her side. She had thrown those pajama pants in the garbage the night after, deciding to sleep in a couple of different pairs of mens’ boxers, since it had gotten warm enough.


She hadn’t seen the Virgin in any dreams since the night with Jerry. It’s as if he’d taken her away, taken away God, taken away hope of outside help. Now after the spell, she felt stronger in believing that something could come in from the outside to help her, and just her. She’d prayed, and prayed mainly to the Virgin and also to God and Jesus, but no more dreams. Maybe it was a sign that she was doing what she was supposed to. She slid the needle in. When needles are under your skin, you see only white light. No God, no Jesus. And sometimes the red of her cloak. But not lately.

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