Ascension by Steven Galloway Page A

with a grace and ease Salvo had never before witnessed. He knew immediately that this man was engaged in something of value, something few could do and something that was worth doing. This man was in a different world. And he seemed to Salvo to be at complete peace with his surroundings. He might as well have been walking along the sidewalk, or so it appeared.
    The man walked the length of the rope, about forty feet, three times, until the crowd’s contributions to the hat began to wane. He descended to applause and in a loud voice he announced that the troupe would be performing there for the rest of the week. After imploring people to be generous with their donations, the circus began to pack up their belongings.
    Salvo was awestruck. He wanted to approach the man but found himself unable to move. What would he say to such a person? He had a brief moment where the thought of running away and joining the performers made his palms slick with sweat, but he put it out of his head. He was lucky to have found his home among the Nagys; it would be stupid to leave them for what cold logic told him must be the foolish dreams of a fifteen-year-oldboy. If his time among
gadje
had taught him anything, it was that he had a tendency to dream outside the scope of reason. Salvo forced himself to stand still as the wire walker moved through the crowd and out of his view.
    As they made their way through the park, back to the subway station, Salvo tried to think of a way to thank his uncle. Though still wary of him, he had seen a side of László Nagy today that he had never seen before, or even suspected existed. He wondered if it was possible that he had misjudged the man. They rode the subway in silence, Leo leaning heavily on Salvo, his foot raw and sore from the afternoon’s exertions. When they got off the subway, Salvo decided that the best way to thank his uncle was just to come right out and say it. László was a straightforward man; that was how you did things with him, Salvo supposed.
    László spoke first. “Here,” he said, reaching into his pocket and picking a bill out of an envelope, handing it to Leo. “This is for the streetcar. And you can buy your cousin and yourself something from Gerbeaud’s.”
    Esa looked startled. “Why should they need their own money?”
    “Because,” László said, “you and I are going to the opera house, and boys their age would not appreciate such a thing.”
    Esa’s eyes lit up. All her life she had wanted to go to the Budapest Opera House. Even Salvo knew that. But it was expensive.
    “Go on, now, you two. We have to hurry,” László said. Esa kissed Leo and Salvo on the cheek, and then she headed off down Andrássy Avenue, linking arms with László.
    “Thank you, Uncle,” Salvo called after them. Whether he was heard or not he could not tell. László never turned around.
    As they walked up the street, Esa tried to imagine what the opera house would be like, what the people would be wearing, what they would talk about at the intermission, how the musicwould sound. She could not stop herself from smiling, and after a while she gave up trying. It was better than any daydream; this tea party was going to happen.
    Salvo and Leo went into Gerbeaud’s and bought four large pastries. They sat on the sidewalk, leaning up against the wall of the pastry shop. Salvo was sure that the pastries were the most delicious thing he had ever tasted. By the time the streetcar returned them to their neighbourhood and they opened the door to the apartment, Leo was nearly weeping from the pain in his foot, so Salvo gave him some of the laudanum Esa kept for such occasions, which put Leo almost immediately to sleep.
    Salvo sat in László’s chair in the front room. He did not normally sit here. It was not forbidden, but neither was it encouraged. Salvo had never particularly wanted to sit in his uncle’s chair; why would you sit in the chair of a man you knew disliked you? A rabbit would not