Standing a few feet above me was my older sister. No, I shook my head slightly, trying to clear a strange sound from my ears. An audible click had fallen into place. I felt a sense of alignment, an ease deep in my bones. The man was gone, the RV was gone, the light, hell, even Arizona was gone. In front of me, looking through grey eyes, through grey eyes! was my mother. The woman who gave birth to me. Her mouth was making the same O of astonishment; her eyebrows mimicked mine as they shot up in surprise.

And in that same instant, everything around us came rushing back, the man, the afternoon heat, and the sounds of a working crew assembling the night’s entertainment.

The man said something, and I could only pick out the end of his sentence, “ … sure to be done within the hour, ok? We have a lot of work to do.” She nodded in agreement. He walked away, disinterested.

She stepped down the stairs, and reached to take my hand. Startled, I looked down at our hands. We shared the same, short, slender fingers, with the same shaped fingernails. I was marveling, and felt like I was in shock. Or in molasses. One minute, everything went so fast, and the next, everything slowed.

“I’m so sorry about Jeffrie, Pale. Please know that I understand your grief,” she said gently. I took my hand away hastily, discomfited by the concern. I cleared my throat.

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“Would you like to come in? We can talk for a little while.”

“Yes, that makes sense. I drove here from Palm Springs,” I said stupidly.

“Oh? Is that where you live now? I thought you were in San Francisco.”

“No. I mean, Yes. I don’t know why I said that. I meant that I stopped at a hotel last night on my drive, and stayed in Palm Springs. It’s not important.” Embarrassed, I sat down at the small nook table as soon as I stepped inside. Shake bustled around the small kitchen, pouring juice into glasses, and set one down in front of me. We both sat in silence for a few moments.

Finally, I said, “So, you are in the knife throwing act?”

“Yes, it’s a good spot for me. I’ve always loved the immediacy of the danger, and the trust you have to have in your partner. It demands total intimacy. My new partner and I are still learning each other. It’s a slow process.” She smiled sadly.

“New partner?” I asked.

“Yes, I was with a man, romantically, for many years, and he was also the other half of the act. But, he passed away two years ago. My new partner and I aren’t together, you know, and it makes the act, less, diverse. We can’t do as many dares, we are still learning each other’s moods and throws.”

I wasn’t sure what to say. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you. That’s very kind. But enough about that.” She paused, searching for the right words. “Will you tell me about you, a little? I know I haven’t earned the right, Jeffrie was always careful about that. I tried to reassure him I wouldn’t interfere…”

“Yes, I know.” I said abruptly. “I read your letters.”

She looked surprised momentarily, then understanding dawned. “Yes, of course, you probably found our correspondence.”

“Can you tell me … ” I started. I wasn’t sure how to phrase my next question.

“Anything you’d like. To the best of my ability.” She encouraged, gently. Her eyes were downcast, and I could tell she was expecting the next question.

“Who was my father? My biological father?”

Shake drummed her fingers on the table softly, so softly that I could see her hand was actually shaking. I had thought it was just a name, but apparently it’s also part of how she responds.

She saw me watching her hand, and put her hands in her lap.

“Yes, that’s why I took the name. I actually do start shaking when I get nervous, or scared. In this case, I just hope for your understanding. I guess a part of me didn’t believe you would actually come today.”

She leaned back, and settled in. She gave me a long stare, and then began trying to answer my question.

“I was with that … partner for a long time, but we had hit a bad patch when I was much younger. I ended up sleeping with another man during that time, who was only with the circus for a short while. When I got pregnant, I told my partner, and we mended things between us. We both weren’t sure if the baby, you, were his, or this other man’s. He desperately wanted me to keep you, but I felt so guilty. I just wasn’t sure if I wanted this life for you, or if I could face a paternity test. What if I never found your father? What if you hated me, or hated this life? I had already seen so many people try it, and hate it. Or worse, have accidents, sometimes ending up with life-long injuries. There aren’t many children raised this way, at least not while we are on the road. Many of the kids are raised by grandparents who’ve retired, so they can have some semblance of a normal life. Yes, many of them come back into it, but that’s when they are older, and can make the decision for themselves.”

She continued. “My partner respected that I wanted something better for you, less risky. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I have never stopped thinking about you.” She broke off, choking up. I felt a wave of compassion for her, but didn’t reach out.

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After a few minutes, Shake was able to speak again.

“I am sorry for all the pain you’ve gone through. Losing Jeffrie, finding out about me this way. I did my best at the time, and have had to live with the decision every day. When I had my own scare with cancer, and lost my partner, I guess I just wanted to see you, see how you turned out. Jeffrie was sympathetic, but still thought it wasn’t the right time. Despite the circumstances, I’m glad you wrote to me.” She gave me a smile, meeting my gaze.

I was so overcome with complex feelings; I wasn’t sure what to say. I wanted to be angry, but looking into her eyes, I saw her plea for acceptance. Those eyes that were just like mine. And she had been my age, blundering around just like I’ve been, trying to figure out her place in the world. She had been confused, scared, and there were too many volatile factors to raising a child that were in the way.

Finally, one emotion surfaced above the others, barely dominant, but definitely the emotion I could grip to, and speak from. Closure.

“I understand. At least, I’m trying to. I am really confused right now, but, mostly, I’m glad to hear what happened. It really helps me to feel ... closure about something I’ve longed to know. I think I got used to not ever knowing, but it’s never stopped ... twisting in my heart, even if the twist was slow.” She nodded in agreement.

We talked for the rest of the hour, gaining slightly more comfort. We talked about her partner, and why she liked being in the circus. She asked about my job, and I told her a story or two. She drank in the information. She asked if there was a man in my life, and I just told her he was from Texas with three sisters, and his name was Felix.

“Oh, that’s Italian for lucky, you know.”

Smiling, I said, “Yes, I know. He’s been pretty lucky for me.”

“Hey, would you mind staying for the show tonight? I can get you a comp ticket. I would like you to see what I do. That is, if you are interested.”

I agreed to come back, and we stood up. I reached out to shake her hand, and she shook mine back with a feather light touch. A faint tremble remained. She looked at me, and we moved in for an awkward hug. Feeling better, I left and headed back to the car.

As I made my way back through the maze to where I was parked, my head was in a daze of information. I’d never felt as light as I did now. I felt like dandelion fuzz, lifted above all the events around my birth, around my adoption, around my adoptive mother’s abandonment of me and Dad, and the awkward stumbling of my youth. I saw my restlessness and sense of adventure, and how my whole life led up to that moment of moving to San Francisco, and how much I’d learned. I drove around in a fog, looking for a hotel near the convention center. In no time at all, I was secured in an innocuous room, and laid down on the bed, drinking in my meeting with Shake.

After an hour or so, I decided to call Jana and Felix and give them a general overview of the meeting. Both of them listened attentively, and were supportive and relieved to hear it went well. They both peppered me with questions, but I told them I was reeling too hard from it all to go into details. I promised to call once I was back on the road. They both accepted this, and wished me well.

I spent the next few hours killing some time by having dinner in downtown Phoenix. My thoughts returned again and again to my dad. I so badly wished I could talk to him about today. About how much I loved him. About what a great dad he was. I missed him so much; it was an ache that would never go away. But coupled with the pain of the things I never got to say, was the promise of the things I could still say to my birth mother. The relationship we could have, which was foreign to me. I hadn’t grown up around other women-- no sisters, aunts, or grandmothers. I’d tried to understand the unspoken rules and minefields that come with other women, but more often than not, I just didn’t get it.

I wasn’t certain that I would ever get it; but having a place to start with Shake just made it seem possible. Jana was one of the few women who had always understood that about me, and didn’t try and make me interpret invisible signals. That was another reason why I loved her.

My thoughts were all a jumble, and I had picked at a plate of sub-standard sushi without enthusiasm. I had gotten so used to eating well in the Bay Area, it hadn’t occurred to me that the fish here wouldn’t be as fresh. I paid the cashier, and walked back to the hotel to get dressed for the evening’s performance. I wondered what kind of preparation Shake had to do to get ready for having knives thrown at her, and whether or not she was nervous that I would be there.

I made my way back to the convention center, where the chaotic jumble of trucks and equipment had miraculously vanished, leaving a clear and well-defined path to the entrance. I asked one of the staff where I could pick up a ticket, and I was directed to a smaller booth with an old-fashioned sign above it, the hand-painted job reading ‘Will Call’.

I was handed a ticket by a sweet old man, who gave me a wink and gestured through a heavy piece of the canvas wall. Seeing my hesitant look, he motioned again. I pushed through the wall, and it opened up to a designated walking path, separate from the main crowd, leading to a small seating area in the very front, where approximately twenty seats were roped off with a thick red cord.

People looked down at me curiously, and I avoided their gaze. I was the only one in this sitting area, and I took a spot in the middle toward the back row. A few minutes later, the canvas wall flipped open again, and some important looking business people stepped through it, and strode purposefully to the same sitting area.

I was relieved to not be the only one, and they ignored me completely, chatting amongst themselves in a foreign language. It sounded like German, and I quietly tried to pick out words my Dad might have taught me when I was little.

The lights went down, and the show started. There were animal acts, acrobatics, fire breathers, and clowns. I wasn’t sure when Shake was going on, and about an hour into the show, they finally wheeled out the wall she would stand at, and the knife throwing man walked out to applause, holding his knives high in the air. Shake walked out behind him in a sparkly outfit, waving and smiling warmly. I could see a slight tremble as she looked for me, but when she caught my eye, she waved excitedly directly to me. I gave her a shy smile, and waved back, a strange happiness coming over me.

The act was a good one, but I could see what Shake meant about getting used to her partner. He popped balloons around her while she trembled against a brightly painted female outline, pinned playing cards, and even split flower stems, but I heard a few voices call out, ‘Wheel of Death!’, which the man ignored. Overall, the show was a good one, and I stayed until the end, caught up in the performances. I dropped by the Will Call booth, and found the old man was still sitting there, smiling at me.

“Could you give Shake a message for me?” I asked him.

“Of course, little lady. What’s the message?” he asked genially.

I wrote down the name and number of my hotel, along with my room number. I folded it in half and handed it to him.

“This is where I’m staying. If you could have her give me a call, that would be great.”

“Absolutely,” he nodded, like he does this all the time. For all I know, he does.

I walked back to my hotel, my thoughts swirling around. I reveled in the solitude of being on the road by myself, but I also missed Felix terribly. I decided to leave it up to Shake, which was why I left her my number. I headed to bed without a message from her, dreaming of exotic animals, journeys, forked roads, and of course, Dad.