Page 78 of Grumpy Puck

Chapter22

Michael

“There.”Calliope gestures at the circus parking lot.

So, she was serious.Her family really does live at the circus.

Once we’re parked, I get the box of candy and bouquet of flowers from the trunk while Calliope sighs again.

“I told you, you didn’t need to bring anything,” she says for the umpteenth time.

“And I told you—Russians can’t go to dinner empty-handed.”And no one really should.

She leads me through the stage area, and among all the oddities, the one that catches my attention is an old woman walking on tightrope near the ceiling.

“That’s my grandmother,” Calliope explains.

I look for a net under the rope and find none.“Does she have some sort of a safety harness attaching her to the ceiling?”

Because I can’t see one of those either.

Calliope sighs heavily.“She claims she doesn’t need such silliness now that she’s eighty years old.”

I point at the people practicing right below, on whom the grandmother would land if she were to take a misstep: a guy swallowing a sword, a fire breather, and a mime.“What about them?They all seem too young to be killed by her fall—or to be traumatized by?—”

“You’re preaching to the choir,” Calliope says.“And if you find a way to convince my grandmother to take safety precautions, the rest of the family will give you a medal.”

“Hey, cousin!”shouts the mime with a big grin.“Is that your new boyfriend?”

Calliope tsks-tsks.“You’re in full costume.Are you allowed to talk?”

The mime jerks off her right glove.“There.Please don’t tell anyone I broke character.”

Calliope snorts.“I do have WMO on speed dial, so…”

The mime pales.“Seriously.I didn’t?—”

“If you can get everyone here to the dinner table, I’ll never tell a soul,” Calliope says.

“So,” I say when we’re out of earshot of the neurotic mime.“You’re not just mean to me.”

Calliope glances at me.“Was I mean?The last thing I want is for her to give me the silent treatment again.”

I narrow my eyes.“Was that a mime joke?”

She nods.

“And what’s WMO?”I can’t help but ask.“Another joke?It sounds like some sort of mime mafia.”

“World Mime Organization,” she replies.“But hey, mime mafia sounds like an unspeakable horror.”

I snort.

“They use guns with silencers,” she says and continues making mime-related jokes as we walk up to a hallway with a bunch of doors.

“That one.”Calliope gestures at number ten.“That’s where I lived until recently.”

She knocks.

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