Lekya looked out the window at the blue-green mist rising from the
valley. They called these the Blue Ridge mountains, and Lekya had assumed
that they had received this name due to characteristics of the geology of
the area; but now he could clearly see the source of the name; the
mountains were cast in a vibrant shade of blue.
As the train climbed along the side of one of those titled ridges,
Lekya had a clear view of the valleys that spread luxuriously below him.
One of the things that Jake had specifically wanted to do with this tour
was to travel by train as much as possible, in the manner of circuses at
the turn of the century, when a whistle blowing in the night was a sign to
kids for miles around that "The circus is coming!" and the circus train was
a sight in itself, car after gaudily painted car snaking its way through
the early morning shadows.
It was the best way to travel, Lekya thought to himself as he
enjoyed the passing scenery. So much better than a bus. The ride was
smooth, and the view spectacular; and more than that, on a train you felt a
part of something huge, something vast, something historic. A bus was just
an overgrown taxi.
And, on a train, he traveled in a little private room. Not much of
a room, and not much in the way of room; but privacy was never in great
supply on a bus, either. And at his age, Lekya had grown to like his privacy. It
wasn't something you got a lot of when you were on the road with a circus.
Unfortunately, the room was far too small to accommodate Sasha as well.
The lion had a car to himself, though; Lekya had seen to that. A
big boxcar, with plenty of hay. He had also insisted that it be easily
accessible, so that he could stop by from time to time and while away an
hour or two with the cat.
The thought had entered his mind, so Lekya acted on it. Scenery he
could see any time. Sasha was doubtlessly bored. Lekya would go down to his
car and they could be bored together.
Sasha stood up, grabbed his coat from the small cot where he had
tossed it, and stepped out the door into the train's narrow corridor. Here
the clash and clatter of the wheels and tracks was louder, but it was a
rhythm that got into one's soul after a while. Lekya stepped down the
corridor toward the far end of the passenger section.
Lekya hadn't been hungry, but the greasy smell of the kitchen changed that rapidly. "Ahh, you talk me into it. Two, please."
"Both for you?"
"What do you think, I give to lion?"
The cook did think so, and Lekya knew it. Because one burger was indeed for Sasha. "What would Sasha like on his?"
Lekya laughed, as if to say "I am playing along with this joke you make, that I am giving a hamburger to the lion." "Sasha and I will both have catsup and onions."
"Sure you wanna do that, Lekya? Give the cat onions? Y'might have to stick your head in his mouth sometime soon."
"I give him a tic-tac for dessert."
The cook pulled two patties out of a nearby cooler and flipped them onto the grill. The sizzle of cooking meat filled the compartment. "So," the cook said, changing the tone of the conversation slightly, "Y' hear what happened in Colorado?"
"Rockies lose to Cubs?"
"Nah. Well, yeah. But I mean what they found. Up in the mountains."
"Bigfoot?"
"Nah, nah. Y'know those animal rightists, call themselves Double-T, Tiger Tiger?"
"Yeah, ones kill the movie star, get eaten by poodles."
"Those guys. Yeah, seems that the feds found an abandoned project of theirs up in the hills. We got a TV in the back here, I saw some shots of it. Really weird stuff. No one knows why they took off and left it."
"They probably just give up."
"Maybe. Feds think they're running scared after that dog show thing. But you never know with people like that, never know what they're thinking. Fanatics have a weird way of looking at the world."
"I think that's how the word is defined. Not that my English is the best!"
"Anyway, you wanna know the weird thing about what they found up in the mountains? And, I mean, this is real spooky, it'll keep you up nights."
"I think you tell me anyway, whether I want to know or not. But go on, I do wanna know."
"What they were building... and they can't be absolutely sure, 'cause there was a lot of stuff apparently moved away before the cops got there... but they were able to tell from the structures and the layout..."
"You are like my Cousin Vanya, take half hour to tell about trip across street. Get to the point!"
"Hahaha, it's the Irish in me. Okay, guess what they were building. Guess."
"A torture theme-park."
"Close. A circus!"
"Hmmph," Lekya said. "Just what the biz needs, more bad press."
"No, don'cha get it? Feds think that this indicates that their next target will be a circus." He paused, and when Lekya didn't speak, he added by way of explanation, "We're a circus!"
"Hmm, so I've heard it said. Not much of a target, huh? Bingling Bros. better watch their ass."
"I don't know, seems more like their pattern to hit a little guy like us."
"That so? Then where's the cop escort, the fighter planes? We deserve protection, eh?"
"Well, the feds think that they thwarted the plan when they busted up the training camp. So we're safe enough. Still, it makes you think... what if we had been the target? What if?"
"Ha! Terror boys waste time with McCrae Circus, have to hear about it from buddies at Terrorist Club. Much mocking. Not worth trouble."
"We might not be the biggest Lekya, but we're the best. I believe that, you know."
"And you're right. But - praise saints for this! - being the best don't make you the most important. Lots more high-profile shows than us. Lots better targets for psychos with stupid point to make."
"Yeah, you're probably right. Still, it's kind of scary to think that we might have been the target. Kind of exciting, now that it isn't a danger."
"You talking to guy who puts head in mouth of lion. No thrill in danger. Thrill is nice warm couch, cold beer, wrestling on TV."
"Amen to that, Lekya, Amen to that!"
The cook slid his spatula under the burgers and gave them a wholesome flip. Lekya wished the food would cook faster; his stomach was rumbling. He was watching the burgers when it happened; his primary memory of the event would be the sight of his two well greased burgers sliding sideways off the edge of the grill.