Farewell
Gianni and Gianni where both good boys. Despite the fact that they’d run away from the circus, angering their father to the point where they did not speak anymore, they still sent him every new mailing address they had, just in case. Once in awhile, they would get letters from the other members of the circus, who had trained him to juggle, and tumble, and fly through the air. They gave him news about the circus, their personal lives, and those tidbits of information about their father that they needed to know, every once in awhile.
Late one night, or really, very early one morning, after having worked at the bar and making sure Michael got home safe and sound, they came home and found in their skinny pile of mail, a letter in the head clown Jacob’s handwriting. They smiled, it would be news from home.
One Gianni opened the letter, while the other stood by his side, waiting for the news. He read silently, and his face fell, the expression mirrored on his brother’s face. The letter was folded once lengthwise, and then tucked into Gianni’s pocket, patted, and left as the two boys moved to pack up their meager belongings. They’d barely been there long enough to decorate the one room apartment into anything like a home, but they took their few niceties, a poster of New York, a flier for one of Namida’s shows, a picture of them with Michael between, standing behind his bar. Those were all they had aside from the clothes they had accrued from thrift shops, and that time Michael took them shopping. How much did they owe him for those still?
The Gianni’s figured they would have to tell Michael they were leaving anyway. Best to try to figure out how much they owed him, and try to pay him back. They would have to wait until morning then.
The next day, the Gianni’s had off from the bar, which was good, since they were eager to leave. It was bad enough they had to leave so soon, leaving Michael without his bartenders, but they felt there was little that could be done about that, considering the circumstances.
They entered the Green Room, shy and quiet like they had been the very first time they had walked in. Then, they had been hopeless about the prospect of work, now they were afraid of disappointing their newly found friend.
Michael was behind the bar, tending to a lazy, slow afternoon crowd. The Gianni’s sidled up to the bar, and the older one spoke, quickly, so their employer couldn’t interrupt. “Michael, our father had a stroke a few days ago, and we need to go back to take care of him and run the circus. I’m sorry we have to leave on such short notice, but…” he trailed off. “Uhm, before we go, we want to pay you back for those clothes you bought us,” Gianni fumbled with a wallet that held both brothers’ entire fortune, $147.63, mostly in singles from working last night. “If it’s not enough, I can wire you the rest when we get back to the circus…”
News received with a blank face and an equally blank mind behind it. Stroke? Leaving? For a few moments, Michael could do nothing but stare before his mouth closed.
"You have to leave? Today?" A stupid question given what the twin said, yet the first thing that sprang to mind. Plenty of questions sprang to mind and none were easily asked. He regarded the bills in his employee's hands with a bit of distaste, something which proved to have more grounding effects than anything the other uttered. "We agreed to wages, Gianni. If you're not going to be here, our agreement is nulliffied." Still, it was with some regret to already lose his best employees when he'd become comfortable with their presence.
"Thanks, Michael..." Gianni said with a little smile, feeling awkward as he put his money away, but grateful of this small, masked gift his friend was offering him. "We really wanted to stay, you know. We were starting to like it here... really fit in... We didn't mean to leave so soon." Both Gianni's looked apologetically up at Michael.
"How are you getting home?" Surely not on what few bills Gianni had just sported. Even at a glance, Michael doubted it'd get him across two states, let alone wherever this circus was located.
Both Gianni's held out their thumbs in the universal hitch-hiker salute, grinning widely. The money had to go for food after all. "The circus is in Virginia right now, slowly working its way up north for the summer. Shouldn't take to long to hitch down there."
Staying obviously was out of the question; Michael had to consider what he'd have done were it news of his mother and it had been years previous when it was safe. Nothing would have kept him from leaving without a backward glance. He made his way to the register to calculate the wages not yet paid out on the same battered notepad, deducting the agreed to ten percent and pulling the rounded up amount from the register. Rather than handing it over, he slipped it into one of the safe envelopes and sealed it along with his math. "If you're ever able to," he offered along with the envelope, "you know you're both welcome back here. I'd like it if you were able to come back." Not simply as workers, but to continue the budding friendship they'd begun to forge.
One Gianni took the envelope slowly, about to refuse it instinctively, but it wasn't a hand out, right? Just, friend ship. He tucked it into his jacket pocket, later, he'd put it somewhere safer. "Michael, come with us," Gianni said in a burst of air, as the idea occurred to him. "Run away to the circus and we'll teach you juggle," he said playfully.
Were things so easy; Michael did manage a smile and a small chuckle before he shook his head. "If you caught me when I was a younger man," he spoke through a grin. A life in a circus, something just free... Such things were in the past. "Write me about the circus, though. You can tell me what I'm missing. Deal?"
"Yeah, it's a deal, Michael." Each Gianni held out a hand for Michael, a comical handshake, but why wait to shake hands twice? "Thanks for giving us a chance, and sorry to disappoint you. But, you never know, we might be back someday."
A man could hope and sometimes Michael still did. "You two are going to be a hard act to follow around here, that's for sure." Shaking hands seemed the safer bet and when he finally let go of both hands, Michael felt at a loss. "You know I wish the best for you - and your father. If things could have been different..." Story of his life; maybe of theirs, too.
"You'll find good people. There are plenty here in New York. You'll find someone in no time. So, thanks again, for everything. We'll meet again someday." Looking over their shoulders, both Gianni's waved and headed out of the bar, a bit solemn but they would always have each other at least, so they’d never be alone.
So long and thanks for all the fish.