Carnival Tales

By: Brian Holliday
(© 2009-2010 by the author)
Editor: Rockhunter

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Part 5
Outcasts

“No, Papa, I don’t want a diaper!” Tommy was struggling, quite successfully, against my restraining hands. For a two year old, he was big and awfully strong. But I was insistent and at last able to fasten the ends of the white cloth triangle together over his round belly with a safety pin.

“There. Now don’t take it off. If you won’t use the pot or go outside then you have to wear a diaper. Just look at the mess you’ve made!” I had cleaned Tommy up before dealing with the floor. There hadn’t been much on him, he’d squatted quite neatly, but I’d wanted to cover the offending bodily area before something else came out. I turned around, looking for the small shovel we kept for such emergencies.

“I’m sorry, Papa. I just forgot. Please take this thing off, it itches!” Tommy raised his leg and hooked his sharp toenails into the cloth. I barely caught him before it tore. Tommy absolutely hated clothes, all clothes, not just diapers. Indoors, we let him go without, but then it was required he use the pot, which he disliked, or go outside when nature called, which meant putting on clothes. You see the problem.

I kissed the little foot before I let it go, then picked up his warm body and set him on the bed. “Now, don’t you move, I’ll be right back.” I shoveled up the mess and scrubbed the floor in record time, doing a fair job of it for the hurry, and then returned to sit beside the sulking but still diapered little boy. “Tommy, what can I do to help you understand? It’s either the pot or outside. You should know that by now.” His cat-green eyes looked down at the quilt and he nodded.

“I know. I just forgot.” His eyes strayed to the tooth-marked marrow bone in the corner where he’d been lying. I knew that most everything else left his mind when he got into chewing on his latest favorite, but I hated to forbid him. It was obvious he was teething and he needed to work them through with something. Rawhide was good, but bones seemed to be best.

I reached out a hand, stroking his furry back. That golden brown coat always amazed me; it was so soft – like velvet. The hair on his head and pointy, upright ears was a little longer and a darker brown, like it was between his legs and under his arms. You could barely see the fur on his face unless you rubbed it against the grain, but his eyebrows and chin were darker too, shading one color into another with a mix of guard hairs and a soft undercoat that thickened in cold weather. I thought the overall effect was beautiful. In this heat it was no wonder he didn’t want to wear clothes, but even carnival folks have some standards of modesty, not to mention the marks who came around to watch the show. When he took his short turn in the freak tent he had to wear pants at least, even though his sex wasn’t as obvious as on other little boys.

“I tell you what, Tommy. If you can remember to follow the rules perfectly, all day tomorrow, we’ll put the diapers away, OK? Remember, that means no messes inside and use the pot or the outhouses when you go.” I knew he was plenty old enough; it was just a matter of him caring to remember. I’d made him clean up after himself a few times, thinking that might impress him, but he didn’t do a good enough job to suit me. “And if you’re extra good,” I added, “we’ll go swimming tomorrow afternoon.”

He threw his little arms around my neck at that. “Can Johnny come too, and Emma and Amos?”

“Well, Emma and Amos most likely can. We’ll ask Mavis about Johnny.” Emma was eight years old now, and her brother Amos almost 10. Little Johnny was a month older than Tommy, but smaller and nowhere near as able, not having Tommy’s unusual gifts. He and Tommy were almost like brothers, most times, but I doubted that Mavis would trust Johnny to go swimming out of her sight. Tommy had swum like a fish from the first time we’d taken him into the creek for a bath, which had been when he was about six months old, and he shook himself almost dry when he got out. Not all cats hated water. I’d heard that tigers liked to swim, though we’d never had one with the show. Brushing out his entire fur coat afterwards was quite a chore, but at least he liked that.

Tommy yawned, showing gaps where he was missing some teeth and other places where sharp little points were pushing through the healthy pink gums. The sun was going down outside and it was almost time for tonight’s show to start. I tucked him into his cot, giving him a fresh piece of rawhide so he wouldn’t chew the ear of his Teddy’s bear again by mistake. He loved that furry little thing and wouldn’t sleep without it. We’d had to order one for him last Christmas, after he’d seen the ad in the newspaper.

Karl came in the door just in time to kiss our little boy good night and after he did that I got one too, which made Tommy giggle. “Do you want a story, big fellow?” I asked. His current favorites were Jack and the Beanstalk and Little Red Riding Hood, though I always felt a bit strange telling it to him, that story having the furry wolf as the villain.

“Uh, huh. I want my Birthday Story.” Tommy hadn’t asked for that one in a while. Karl smiled and went to get the show under way, leaving me to it. One of us had to go, but the best times were when we told the story together. After all, we’d been together when it happened.

“Once upon a time, there was a carnival…” I began.

~~~~~

1923 was a good year for “Caldwell’s Wonders.” We’d added a couple of animal acts - trained zebras and a small elephant - as well as a fellow who jumped his motorcycle over barrels and through flaming hoops. By summer we’d suffered no major mechanical problems and, to top it all off, I had a line on purchasing a nice funhouse from a defunct show down south in Arkansas.

While we made our slow way through our scheduled stops, I got a telegram from a friend about some fellows who said they’d meet us in a town ahead and add their “Flying Circus” to our show, making things more profitable for all of us. I sent back that it sounded good and asked my friend to make arrangements. A representative of the group would meet us in a few days to finalize things. Aero planes were becoming quite the rage these days, and flying circuses a real popular novelty. The pilots usually offered rides to the public as well as putting on their show. I’d seen a few of those double winged planes used to dust crops and such. I’d also seen one of them crash in a field outside my home town. The pilot walked away from it, but I still wasn’t sure I’d ever want to take such chances up in the sky. I liked having both of my feet on the ground.

All went well with us until an axle broke on the truck that hauled the camel trailer. We had to wait five days for a replacement part, and though we set up and did some shows in the nearest little town, when all was said and done we’d missed two regular engagements. To avoid missing another, we decided to take the short cut recommended by the town mechanic. That’s how we ended up in Laceyville.

I won’t name the state. There are probably a lot of little towns like that one, all over these United States. Its narrow road wound between low hills and into a valley just big enough for a few small family farms and the weathered buildings of a post office, church, and a mercantile store with a single gas pump out front. There wasn’t room for much else.

I was in the lead truck with my friend Joe, sometimes called the “Alligator Man” and Martin Klein, better known as the Professor. Joe’s scaly gray skin made him popular in the “freak” tent of our show, and the Professor had a gift for amusing patter as well as brewing a line of tonics and medicines guaranteed to be good for what ails you. All his concoctions contained plenty of his popular ‘secret’ ingredient – alcohol. Folks always took the Professor for an older man, but only because his hair had turned completely white – some said from drinking his own potions. Both men were pleasant companions and one or both often rode ahead with me to scout out the lay of the land.

We pulled up and stopped in front of the one storey mercantile to try and buy a cold drink and perhaps find out if there was a place we could set up for a show that night. The rest of the company was rolling behind us by a few miles, but would be along presently. As we were crossing the plank floored porch, the screen door flew open and a white aproned man stormed out, pointing a rifle in our direction. We stopped and his aim came to rest on Joe.

“Move on – we don’t serve strangers here.” He spoke as though to the Professor. He gestured with the rifle barrel. “And get that abomination off my porch, now!”

The Professor held up his hands, peaceably. “Please, friend, we mean you no harm. Our only desire is to entertain and enlighten you and your town folk.” He showed his teeth between his well-trimmed mustache and goatee. I believe that smile had gotten the Professor into and out of a lot of places. “Perhaps you’d care to stock a few bottles of my summer tonic in your fine establishment…” The rifle barrel moved and a bullet kicked up dust behind us in the street.

“I said git… now!”

Joe looked at me, anger smoldering in the blue depths of his eyes. I smiled at him encouragingly but shook my head a little. Our company was most often met with eagerness, but there were always differing opinions. Wrongheaded or not, this man had a right to his and, in any case, we weren’t equipped to argue with a rifle.

We backed carefully down the wooden steps, not turning away until we reached the street. A small crowd had gathered, two men holding shotguns, one with a pitchfork, and some women in old-fashioned long dresses and poke bonnets. All were dressed in clothing as faded gray-brown as the soil we stood on. I caught the eye of one lady, face so gaunt as to seem starved, two small children at her knees and her full skirts big and rounded with pregnancy. The man next to her pushed her roughly behind him and pointed his gun at my chest.

“That’s my wife you’re gawking at, stranger.” He made the word sound like a curse. “You’d best just get back in your truck and move on.” The barrel moved to cover Joe as his voice growled. “We’ll dispose of this demon for you.”

Slowly, I stepped in front of Joe. I hoped the man wasn’t crazy enough to shoot me to get to Joe, but there were other guns trained on us. Sweat from more than the day’s heat rolled down from my armpits under my shirt. I started when a booming voice interrupted things.

“Now, now, what have we here on this fine morning? Caleb, Joshua, Isaac, there’s no need for shooting. Put those guns down.” A tall fellow in a tan sheriff’s uniform and cavalry hat stepped off a big bay gelding and walked toward us down the middle of the street. After a tense moment, the men shuffled uneasily and pointed their guns at the dirt.

“That’s better. Now, you all go on about your business while I talk to these gentlemen for a bit.” The crowd drifted away slowly, but I could still feel the sharp gazes of the men on my back as we returned to our vehicle and faced the sheriff. He looked us up and down.

“I’m Derwood Ellison, the closest thing to the law you’re going to find in this valley. Who might I have the pleasure of addressing?”

I held out a hand. “I’m Lucas Stone and these are my men, Martin Klein and Joseph Neill. We represent the carnival, Caldwell’s Wonders.” The sheriff shook with all of us, not flinching but taking Joe’s three fingered hand as though he saw men like him every day. I liked him for that.

When formalities were over we looked around, but all the unfriendly faces had retreated inside the buildings and were now watching us from behind glass.

“Well, I imagine you boys were looking to put on a show here but, I have to tell you right off, you picked the wrong place for it.” He glanced up at the bell tower atop the church. “The only show these folks favor is the one that the preacher puts on come Sunday.” He smiled. “And their God has some particular ideas about what marks good and evil and the punishments that come to those that don’t follow His teachings.”

I sighed. This wasn’t my first encounter with those who claimed to have a direct line to God. It always seemed that the stronger the claimed connection, the narrower the beliefs and the less tolerance that believers were likely to show for ways different than their own. I didn’t remember my childhood teachings as being so strict and unforgiving, but maybe it was one reason I rarely found myself in a church.

“The best I can tell you,” went on Sheriff Ellison, “is to clear out and keep going. Are the rest of your people on this road?”

I agreed that they were.

“Well, I’ll see you all safely through. You might push on to Middleton. It’s about ten miles or so after you reach the main road. Folks are real nice there and might take more kindly to a little diversion.”

I thanked the sheriff and sent Joe and the Professor on ahead while I waited with him for the next truck. Joe didn’t want to leave me behind, but I wouldn’t rest until I’d seen all the company safely beyond this town.

Sheriff Ellison caught his horse and we walked back down the road.

“I surely do appreciate your being here this morning, sir,” I told him. “I misdoubt we’d be in a peck of trouble by now without your intervention.”

He nodded slowly, watching a hawk up high in the blue. “You’re lucky in that. I don’t spend much time hereabouts, but I was nearby today and heard a shot. I thought I’d check it out.”

In my mind I thanked whatever god might be on our side.

“I’m a county officer with a big route to keep to. These folks think they can take care of their own problems in their own way and likely that’s true. They tolerate me because I don’t interfere unless the problem is with outsiders such as you.”

I nodded. We’d walked to where you could see the town without being in it, but I knew that all the land in this valley belonged to those people and that kept me from feeling relaxed.

“Who are these folks and how did they get here?” I asked, to keep my mind busy.

“I don’t know much about them. Folks say a small group settled here over a hundred-fifty years ago. They don’t mix much with others, so all of them must be related by now. Some of the gals are right pretty, but it’s worth a man’s life to talk to one.” I nodded again. The sheriff didn’t need to know that his good advice about women was wasted on me. “As for their beliefs, I heard tell they broke off from a bigger sect over some trifle of intolerance. As you see, they don’t care much for folks who aren’t just like they are.” He looked thoughtfully back toward the town. “I feel a little sorry for them though – it must be hard, being afraid all the time.” In my heart I had to agree, but I knew that, sometimes, there was nothing more dangerous than fear.

As the morning wore on, the sheriff and I saw our trucks and wagons pass one by one, each with a warning to keep right on going and not to stop for anything. When Karl came along he waited with us until the last of them drove on and then I climbed in with him to bring up the rear. We each shook the hand of Sheriff Ellison, and I gave him some free passes for the show we’d be putting on in Middleton.

He smiled. “Who knows? I just might see you fellows there tonight.” I promised him that, if he did, everything he might want would be on the house.

When we pulled in a few hours later, the folks in Middleton acted like Christmas had come early. We had more youngsters offering to help us in setting up than we knew what to do with. Everyone worked hard and before long I found myself with some time to spare before we’d need to start the show. I decided to explore the little town, maybe eat a bite of dinner in a café for a change, and thought it would be nice if Karl came along with me. I asked around and finally found him behind the animal tent… but he wasn’t alone.

The two young ladies with him looked to be not more than sixteen or seventeen and a prettier pair you couldn’t imagine, all dressed up in pink and blue calico skirts with lots of petticoats and long, ribbon-tied chestnut and auburn hair hanging down their backs. I stopped a few feet away from them and, as I watched, the taller of the two girls reached up and gave Karl a kiss in the vicinity of his mouth. Then both giggled in high voices and scampered off toward town while Karl waved them good bye. All of a sudden I didn’t feel so much like exploring.

I knew how much Karl valued children. When Mavis’ youngest was born he stayed and helped her along with the midwife, while Joe, her husband and the baby’s father, went outside with a drink of whiskey. Karl still visited with Mavis and her new son, Johnny, bringing her berries or fresh fish he’d caught. He knew just how to hold the infant and I could always tell when he’d been there to visit because his face held such a tender smile.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved Joe and Mavis’ baby boy too, along with their other children, Amos and Emma. I never ceased to marvel at how something as tiny as a newborn could be so very much alive. And the noise that could come from that small pair of lungs!

But I’d never in my life been with a woman, nor ever wanted to be, while Karl had shared that he’d tried out the ‘normal’ way of living before deciding he was made for the ways of men. Well, he and I had had a shock or two of late and maybe that had set him to thinking about things. What if his desire for children had changed his mind back again? Karl was strong, smart, and handsome, with fine red hair and the bluest of eyes, a good and caring man that any woman would be glad to call husband.

Well, if that was what he wanted, I wouldn’t stop him. I turned away, hoping he hadn’t seen me.

“Lucas, where are you going?” Karl ran up to me and threw an arm over my shoulder like nothing was wrong. I pulled away. “Lucas, what’s the matter?” I looked into the eyes I knew so well. Karl had no gift for deceit, and I saw only a sincere puzzlement there. Still, I felt a strange sort of guilt. I would offer up my life to make Karl happy, but I could never give him children, one of the things he wanted most.

“I’m going into town,” I said, over my shoulder. There were three saddled horses tied to a bush nearby in case there was need. I jerked the reins free on the nearest and mounted while the startled horse tossed his head. “I’ll be back later.”

“Hold on, I’ll go with you,” Karl called, but I kicked my heels into the gelding’s belly until he jumped out toward the road.

“I’ll go alone,” I said, between gritted teeth. “It’s no business of yours.”

I’ve never said that I wasn’t a fool.

Town was noisy and busy, freshly decorated with posters that read ‘Carnival Tonight!’ Men tipped their hats to me and ladies smiled while children pointed. I’d forgotten that I’d dressed in my green frock coat trimmed in yellow, the one I wore when calling time for the show. They’d never seen the like of me, I guess, but I had no eyes for them or smiles. I walked down the planked sidewalk with my gaze straight ahead. So unmindful was I that even the practiced voice of the Professor had difficulty catching my attention.

“Boss!” he called, then, “Mr. Stone!” And at last I heard, “Lucas!” and turned to regard him. “Are you all right, boy?” he asked me, and I never thought to be angry at the familiarity. The Professor took my unresisting arm and led me to a bench in the town square. When I’d drunk a drought of the tonic he always kept in his back pocket for emergencies, and then finished coughing from the taste of it, he asked again, a gentle hand on my shoulder, “My friend, are you all right?” I assured him I was fine, had never been better.

“Well then,” he said with doubt, “I came to give you the telegram I picked up at the wire office.” He held out the envelope and I thanked him and opened it. The sharpness of the tonic seemed to have cleared my head for the moment, and it was a welcome thing to have business to think about.

The short words promised the arrival of Simon Daguerre, one of the pilots in the ‘Flying Circus’ we’d made plans to meet. I’d wired my friend that we had stopped in Middleton and with a plane for transportation it was nothing for the fellow to meet us there. The wire promised his arrival before dusk. That was good, because our shows always started just after dark.

But then I had an idea. It had been a stressful day and didn’t I deserve some time to myself? “Professor,” I asked, “will you tell Karl I want him to run the show tonight? I believe I’ll stay here in town and take some dinner, perhaps spend a night at the hotel. I’ve business to attend to.” I’d never done such a thing before and the Professor looked at me as though I’d gone green. But he said nothing except to agree that he would do what I asked and he left without fuss. Perhaps it was the look in my eyes.

I ordered a meatloaf dinner from the café and pushed it round my plate for a while before paying and going outside to look for the plane. I hadn’t long to wait.

With a sound of thunder and a great deal of smoke, a red painted bi-plane came in to land on the other side of town from where we were camped. I retrieved my horse and headed out there to meet it. I suppose a plane landing would have ordinarily caused quite a stir in this little town, but many had already gone to see the carnival and perhaps that was novelty enough for one night. At any rate, I was the only one to greet the man who stepped down off the painted wing.

Under his leather helmet and jacket he was tall and well set up, his dark hair slicked back and his little mustache trimmed close. The striped shirt, brown jodhpurs, and high boots fit him well. Many ‘barnstormers’ were a scruffy lot, showing that flying was not a lucrative pastime, but Simon Daguerre looked as though he was doing well.

He smiled as I dismounted the shying horse and he walked away from the plane whose propeller was still lazily turning. “I’m Simon Daguerre. You must be Lucas Stone.” He pulled off a calfskin glove and offered me his hard hand. Understanding passed between us in an instant. We were kindred.

“Well,” he said, holding my eyes, “I am pleased to meet you, sir. Come over and look at my plane.” I hesitated, still grasping the reins of the nervous horse.

“I’d best not,” I said cautiously, thinking of more than the horse. He smiled again, taking the leather straps out of my unresisting hands and securing the gelding to a tree.

“There. Now come along,” he coaxed, “it won’t bite you.” I was feeling more foolish by the minute and grabbed on to any shred of professionalism I might still possess. I walked ahead of him to the bright flying machine, climbing boldly up onto the wing and looking into the double cockpit. There were gears and levers in the rear compartment and only some canvas bags in the front, but seats in both.

I looked down at him. “It seems serviceable enough. Will you sell rides to the customers as well as perform your flying tricks?”

He leaned lazily against the side of his plane. “Of course. That’s where the real money comes in. The yokels will give plenty to take a spin in the clouds… as much as five dollars.” I nodded. If he had many such customers it would explain the fine clothes.

He stepped closer, blocking my way. “But I’ll take you up for free, if you want.”

That’s what his voice said, but his body was saying something more. I looked him over, so fine in his leather. Simon Daguerre wasn’t all that different from men I’d known before committing myself to Karl, and I felt what I always felt. But, though he was handsome and my body found his attractive, I didn’t want him. The only man I wanted for more than fun was Karl. Simon’s eyes were bright, insistent. He didn’t look to be the type of man who might easily take ‘no’ for an answer.

I jumped down, pushing him back with a hand on his shoulder.

“We’ll be in Garvey in three days. Bring your friends and meet us there at noon.”

I’d seen that his plane was more than a wreck and he more than a bummer. That was enough. I’d had plenty of him and of town life for one evening. I was going back to the carnival that was my home. I’d be strong enough to face whatever might proceed between Karl and me without indulging in the fleeting pleasures Simon might offer. I walked toward my horse and didn’t look back.

The plane’s engine whined in time to scare the gelding, but I kicked him into a canter and we left that place behind.

It was only a short ride back to the carnival, but still I had some time to think. Had Karl really been more than play-flirting with those girls? Or was he seriously considering one of them without even knowing his own mind? I didn’t know what to think about that. I did know that I loved him and didn’t want to lose him. That meant I needed to apologize for how I’d acted, and then we needed to have some serious talk.

Before I could find Karl the whirlwind of carnival activity pulled me in. The elephant was acting sick and no one knew why, would I have a look at her? One of the ponies had thrown his special shoe and no one could find the blacksmith, would I make an announcement? Andre, the strong man, wanted to make a last minute change in his act, what did I think?

I dealt with each concern, but it left me no time for more than a smile at Karl, which he returned from across the main tent.

Just at sunset, when I was hoping that things would settle down, there was a noise like a cloud of giant locusts, and Simon Daguerre’s red biplane appeared, accompanied by six other planes all painted in colors of the rainbow. Lit by the sun’s last light as though the sky was their own personal stage, they formed into a vee and landed almost simultaneously on a strip of field I wouldn’t have thought adequate. The pilots deplaned and the crowd headed for them like a mule that smells water.  

I looked up and, coming toward me was Simon Daguerre.

“Well, Mr. Stone. Long time no see.” He was swaggering a bit, smiling as though he knew a secret.

“I talked to my boys and we decided to come on early. We’ll still meet you in Garvey, but we saw no reason not to make a little extra money here and now.”

My mouth went dry. Everything felt unsettled to me, mainly because I hadn’t had time to apologize and talk things over with Karl. I was surprised at how calm my voice sounded. “That’s fine. I imagine it’s too dark now to fly, but folks will likely be back in the morning and you can put on your show then. Perhaps you can sell advance tickets tonight. One of the boys will put up a booth for you on the midway, if you like.” I was nothing but business and the surprise was plain on Daguerre’s face. Perhaps no one had ever turned him down twice before.

“I’d appreciate that. They can look tonight and it will… whet their appetites.” He moved one step too close to me, his eyes growing hot, and then backed up as I felt someone at my shoulder. It was Karl.

“Karl,” I said steadily, “Meet Simon Daguerre, the leader of these men and their Flying Circus. Mr. Daguerre, this is my partner, Karl Larsen.” The two men sized each other up and Karl put out his hand.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Daguerre. Now, if you’ll excuse us, my partner and I have some things we need to take care of.” We turned away and he didn’t follow.

Karl led me almost back to our trailer before he spoke. “Lucas, why did you go off like that this afternoon? I was worried about you.”

I hesitated, took a deep breath, and tried to be as honest as I knew how, talking about knowing how much he liked little Johnny and the other children and finishing up with seeing the girls from town and one of them giving him a kiss.

“You thought I’d take one of them over you just because they might give me children?” Karl’s voice held his amazement. “Lucas, I love you. How could you think such a thing?” I looked down, feeling bad because, way down deep, I still doubted. Then Karl’s voice changed. “Or, do you want to be rid of me? I saw how that Simon fella looked at you. Did you go with him today?”

I was shocked. I’d known what I was doing about Simon, and had walked away from that temptation. How could Karl think that I might…? “No, damn it, I didn’t! You’re the only one I want, Karl. How can you accuse me of…” Then I realized the irony of what I was saying, and I started to laugh. It was a small thing at first, just a smile and then a chuckle escaping my lips, but then I couldn’t stop and tears began squeezing out of my eyelids.

I could hardly see, but Karl’s face looked mad at first, and then puzzled, and all of a sudden he got the joke and started laughing with me. I grabbed onto him and we held each other up until we got control of ourselves again. Then I pulled his wet face to mine and kissed him hard. “Was there ever a bigger fool than me?” I apologized.

Karl grinned. “No, I expect not,” he said thoughtfully. I gave him a half-hearted punch on the shoulder.

Karl made me a promise that, if ever a love-struck girl tried to kiss him again, he would turn and run like a deer.

Sheriff Ellison showed up and I was glad to take him around, taking pleasure in watching him enjoy our attractions. “Haven’t been to something like this since I was a boy,” he enthused, munching buttered popcorn. “Glad I ran into you folks.” I was glad too, and told him so.

In fact, things went so well in Middleton that we decided to stay another night. If all went as planned, we’d still make it in plenty of time to our next appointment in Garvey. The kind people of Middleton asked that we consider adding their town to our yearly rounds and it seemed like it might be a good idea.

The air show, next morning, was quite a success. We opened the carnival early so that folks would have something to occupy their time while waiting for aero plane rides. We carnies enjoyed the show from the ground, watching them execute fantastic climbs and stalls and barrel rolls up high and in concert. I had to hand it to those gentlemen, they were talented, or foolhardy, or maybe both. I was not among those brave souls who paid their money for a high ride, though everyone who went up came down in one piece, except for a few who lost their lunch.

What little more I saw of Simon Daguerre was from a distance, until he came by to settle up accounts in the late afternoon. Again I was only businesslike and he managed to keep himself to the money matters at hand. He and his friends flew off with a renewal of their promise to meet us day after tomorrow.

After a day long show, including an added matinee performance in the big tent, that night found us all ready for some rest.

Karl and I had put out the lamps in our trailer and, looking out the window, the whole camp was dark and quiet. We’d just tucked ourselves under the quilt and I felt myself about to drift into sleep when I heard a peculiar noise. It wasn’t loud, more like a faint scratching. Maybe it was a raccoon or a skunk, I thought, going about its nighttime business. Hopefully, it wasn’t a bear.

I listened, but the noise didn’t come again. Still, something about the feel of the night disturbed me. I touched Karl’s shoulder to find him sitting up. “Did you hear that?” I whispered.

“Yes. I’m going to look outside.”

We both got up, quickly pulling on our trousers in the dark. Karl had the door open in less than a minute. There was a quarter moon riding high above the trees, enough light for us to see and not to trip over the blanket-wrapped bundle that was there on the trailer step. A crashing noise began in the nearby trees and Karl leaped down to go after it while I picked the thing up carefully. Whatever it was, it squirmed in my hands and a faint mewing escaped the folds of blanket.

There was more muted crashing and then Karl returned towing a small figure dressed  in long skirts with a shawl over her head. I stepped back, the bundle warm in my arms, and Karl all but carried the struggling woman into our trailer. When the door was tight shut she spoke.

“Please, let me go. I have to get home before Caleb finds out.” Her voice was breathy quiet, almost panting. There was the flare of a match and then a steadier light as Karl kindled a lantern wick. The woman pulled her shawl tighter, hiding her face from us. I thought for a moment that it was familiar.

“Is this your baby?” I asked, holding out the blanket.

She shrank back. “I gave birth to it, but you must take it.” She only breathed for a moment, then leaned forward. “You will take him, won’t you? I saw the deformed man with you. He’s part of your circus, isn’t he?”

My head was spinning. She must mean Joe, but what could he have to do with this? I looked down at the bundle, finally pulling back a fold of the swaddling blanket to reveal a face, still damp with streaks of birthing blood, but tiny and perfect, eyes tight shut, and covered all over with a downy golden coat, almost like a day old chick. I looked up at the woman. Her face was desperate and pleading.

“Please. I can’t keep him. This is the second baby like him I’ve borne and Caleb will be angry, maybe set me aside for another woman, but I don’t care about that.” Her pale blue eyes held mine. “Caleb drowned the first one.”

I turned to Karl. Slowly he reached out a hand to the baby, one careful finger tracing a line from tiny forehead to jaw. “We’ll keep him,” he said.

The woman pressed her lips together and her breast rose and fell once. “Thank you,” she said. Then, looking at Karl as though for permission, she moved for the door. Neither of us stopped her. In a minute there were hoof beats and she was gone.

When we woke Joe and his family, Mavis exclaimed and cooed over the tiny morsel of life. As Karl and I watched, she sponged away the blood and mucus from the furry squirming body and dabbed some alcohol on the cut edge of the umbilical cord, already tied with string. The little eyes, when they opened, were baby blue, and the mouth held a few small teeth. Mavis looked askance at those before putting the baby to her breast, but smiled as he only sucked her nipple eagerly and did not bite.

Little Johnny in his cradle woke up with all the commotion and light, and Mavis took him on her lap with the newborn, soon finding a balance and suckling them both. Joe, Karl, and I looked on in wonder. Karl put an arm around my shoulder.

“Looks like there’ll be a lot more laundry to do now,” he teased. I grimaced, but it was half a smile. I snuck my arm around Karl’s waist and pulled him closer, too overcome to speak.

I’d never dreamed that my love and I would have a baby to care for. A million plans swirled through my mind. Little Johnny was so young that Mavis might nurse them both, if she would, but we could also get a nanny goat – I’d heard their milk was good for babies.

I looked into Karl’s soft eyes and he smiled like sunshine. Now we were truly a family.

~~~~~

Karl had come back in and sat down beside me as I was finishing the story.

I was quiet then, and a small sleepy voice reminded me, “How does the story end, Papa?”

I looked at Karl and he spoke, “And they lived happily, ever after.”

Tommy sighed. “G’night, Pa, g’night Papa.” He clutched rawhide and bear in his arms as I covered his little shoulder with the quilt.

He’d come up with the names for us all by himself. It’s not every little boy who has two fathers. But then, not every little boy is as special as Tommy.

End Part 5

Posted: 02/12/10