In Search of a Memory (Truly Yours Digital Editions) (15 page)

The afternoon’s labor helped Angel forget the morning’s fright. Having blown up the last of the colorful balloons and handed them to Fletcher, the agent for that booth, who pinned them to a board where darts would be thrown by paying customers,

Angel found her hands suddenly unoccupied. Mama stood a short distance away, giving advice to one of the carnies who’d sought her out. And with irritating ease Angel’s thoughts returned to her confusion over Roland.

He wasn’t the only one flummoxed by her change of heart. She couldn’t understand either what led to her desperation for him to stay. But when she suddenly ran smack into the dangers he had daily lived and realized he was ready to sacrifice all his hopes, perhaps even his life, to protect her and everyone there, the thought of something terrible happening to him made her blood run cold. She’d heard that expression before, but she’d never understood it until she shivered from the chill that raised gooseflesh on her skin when he told her he would leave and she’d never see him again.

At that bizarre moment his words she had long wished to hear became the dread she hoped never to face. She didn’t want him to go; she wanted him to stay, though she restrained from delving too far into the reasons why.

Could life get any more insanely complicated?

“Finished with the balloons?” Mama approached, her face flushed rosy from work and sun. “You’d best get to Millie’s tent and help with the food. With that stomach upset of hers, you might need to take over.”

Angel hid a wince. She hoped that watching the cook through the past week would be enough to manage on her own. After one trial effort of Angel’s work, Millie never asked her to prepare food again, except for the toast, which Angel did well.

“I enjoyed working with you today, Mama.” Much more than sitting on a stool selling tickets. “It was fascinating to see how everything is done from all angles and be able to help those who needed it.”

Mama tilted her head to the side. “I think you have a servant’s heart, Angel. It’s what I love most about my carnival, helping those who need a hand.”

“We finished sooner than I expected. I understood it would take most of the day.”

“Oh, there’s still plenty of work to be done. Next I’ll be headed to the Tent of Wonders to see if anyone needs a hand there. Don’t like calling them freaks.”

Angel’s heart stopped beating. “Can I come with you? I’m really not a good cook.” She hoped her confession would trigger the invitation she had long desired.

“Any specific reason you want to visit there?” Mama’s expression grew guarded. “Even though Tucker thinks he owns them and displays them like cattle for money, I’m protective of all my family. They’re people with souls, not creatures to be constantly gawked at. They get enough of that when the carnival is open to the public.”

Angel had asked Cassie and other longtime workers about her mother but had lost hope of anyone knowing her on her fourth day there. She realized she’d never told Mama, since she rarely spent time in her company. “My mother was one of those so-called freaks.” She winced at the word, also not liking it. “A bearded lady named Lila. I’m hoping one day to find her.” The words, once so hard to say, now spilled off her tongue.

Mama stood frozen, but Angel was growing accustomed to this kind of reaction. Shock was better than the slight repulsion or blatant curiosity she’d also witnessed from those few carnies she’d told, whose gazes then intently scoured her jaw, as if searching for some sign of the imperfection her mother suffered.

“Is that a fact?” Mama breathed softly. “Well now, who would’ve guessed…?”

“I’ve asked around but haven’t had any luck. I’m still hoping to find someone who knew her or of her, maybe even worked where she did, since I discovered a lot of carnies here have come from other places.”

“Yes. I’ve hired a number of performers who come from shows like mine.” Mama stared at Angel as if making a decision. “All right then. Come with me. Jezebel,” she said in passing to a young carny, “help Millie with supper. Let me know if she’s feeling worse.”

“Sure will, Aunt Philena.” She nodded in curiosity to Angel before she took off running, her long black braids bouncing as she went.

“Jezzie is my nephew’s daughter,” Mama explained as they walked, and she threw Angel a sidelong smile. “Like I said, we’re all one big family here. Those not by blood grafted in by the unique talents each has to offer.”

Angel sucked in a nervous breath as Mama swept through the tent, then she followed. Seven people worked inside, one man looking less than pleased to see the newcomers.

“Everything’s taken care of.” A gruff-looking character with the stump of a cigar sticking out of his pudgy lips, he gave Angel the willies. “Don’t need your services today.”

“Speak for yourself, Tucker.” A high girlish voice that Angel recognized came from her right. She watched Posey move eagerly forward and gave the woman a genuine smile, happy to see her again.

“Hi, Posey. How are plans for the wedding coming along?”

Mama looked from one to the other in surprise. “You two know each other?”

“You could say we ran into each other—almost,” Angel joked, and Posey laughed.

“I’m having trouble with my gown.” She held up her short, thick fingers. “Can’t hold a flimsy needle well, but I’m managing.”

“I could help.” Angel felt all eyes on her and blushed. “I’m somewhat handy with a needle. I’ve sewn my own dresses and my cousins’, too.”

“That would be swell!” Posey fairly bubbled. “Maybe you could help Rita and Rosa out, too—that is, if you wouldn’t mind?”

“It’s what I came for. To help.” She glanced at Mama, and the woman smiled and nodded.

“Come along then, and meet the rest of the bunch.” Posey took Angel’s hand, pulling her toward the back of the large tent. “You’ve seen Jim at the cook tent, I’m sure.” Angel smiled in greeting toward the giant, who tipped his hat and inclined his head in polite acknowledgment. “And that’s Gunter.” She motioned to a brown-skinned man covered in tattoos and piercings; even his eyelids had pictures on them. At her uncertain nod, he inclined his head slowly, unsmiling, his black eyes wary. “And you’ve met my darling prince.”

“Hullo again.” Darrin waved a casual, two-fingered salute from his brow.

“And this is Rita and Rosa.”

Two pretty young women with bright green eyes and short black curls sat on chairs pressed close to each other. Angel blinked, realizing the women were joined at the shoulders.

“I’m Rita.” The one on Angel’s left offered her right hand.

“And I’m Rosa.” She offered her left.

Angel shook each hand in turn, trying not to stare at the area that made them different.

“They’re not seamstresses either,” Posey explained. “And they’ve run into a problem for tonight’s show.”

“We tore our costume. See?” Rita sadly displayed a long tear in the shimmering crimson skirt.

“Speak for yourself, sister. If you’d not been so quick to move…”

“And if you’d not been so slothful to stay…”

“We would not be in this predicament,” they finished together.

Posey tugged at Angel’s skirt and grinned when she looked her way. “They’re like this all the time. Don’t pay any attention.”

Angel smiled at Posey then directed her nervous gaze to the twins. “If you, um, have a needle and thread, I can sew it up.”

“Would you?” Rita asked. “You’re an angel!”

At that both Angel and Posey laughed, and Angel’s tension drained away.

“Did I say something funny?” Rita looked at Rosa, who shrugged her free shoulder.

“Ladies, this
is
Angel,” Posey explained. “The girl I told you about.”

“Ooo—the one who came here with that handsome young man,” Rosa exclaimed.

Angel didn’t bother to correct her, weary of the undertaking.

“I hear you’re looking for your mother,” Rita said, enlightenment coming into her eyes. “Lila.”

Angel’s heartbeat quickened. “You know her?”

“Sorry, no.”

“We joined Mahoney’s carnival a little over a year ago.”

“But another carny who once worked with us mentioned Bruce, a strongman who married a bearded lady named Lila, from another carnival. He mentioned she had a little girl. I’m guessing that was you.”

Angel nodded, a twinge in her heart. “Do you know where I can find him? The other carny?”

Both girls shook their heads. “No, sorry,” Rita said, “Abe left about the time we joined up.”

Angel nodded and managed a smile, trying not to allow yet another sting of disappointment to wound her. If Abe knew them and he once worked here, there might be others who also did.

With quiet thanks, accepting the needle, thread, and a stool that Darrin brought her, Angel set to work, skillfully mending the rip. As the three women talked, she found herself easily entering into their conversation. She hadn’t known how she would react upon meeting those who worked inside this tent. After having her desire met, at first she felt awkward, not wanting to be rude, but the curiosity of human nature caused her eyes to stray more than once to the differences that set them apart. But as the minutes passed, she relaxed, perhaps not able to ignore their oddities, as she would have wished, but able to accept these girls, just as she accepted and enjoyed their company. How strange that on such short acquaintance she felt closer to them than she’d ever felt with her cousins.

She would have liked to stay and chat longer, but Mama, having finished treating a boil on Gunter’s leg, announced to Angel they had more work to do.

“It was a pleasure meeting all of you,” Angel said to the group then turned her attention to the twins and Posey. “I’d love to be able to visit with you again.”

“Yes…”

“We’d like that…. That is, if…”

Both girls turned nervous glances toward their manager. Tucker glared at the twins, Angel, and Posey, his arms crossed over his thickset chest.

“Why, I think that would be a lovely idea, Angel.” Mama gave Tucker her own baleful stare. “They usually prefer to take their meals here, or outside at the back of the tent on nice days, except for Jim. So you can deliver them in my place.”

Angel smiled her gratitude, ignoring Tucker. It was Mama’s carnival after all.

“Thanks again, Angel, the dress looks wonderful—”

“Better than when we got it.”

“What do you mean, ‘we’? I’m the one who picked it out….”

As the two sisters quietly bickered, Angel turned her attention to Posey. “Give me your gown, and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Oh, would you?” Posey practically squealed, clasping her hands beneath her chin. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I’ll be back in a flash.” She whirled around and sped to a curtained area of the tent.

“You heard Mama!” Tucker bellowed. “There’s work to be done here.”

“Oh, I think a few minutes more for Posey to fetch her gown won’t hurt anything,” Mama answered sweetly.

Angel looked at the two, discerning the friction that seethed between them.

Minutes later, once Angel had Posey’s gown in hand and they had left the tent, Mama addressed the matter of Tucker. “That man is as rough as sandpaper,” she groused. “But with a good deal of prayer—and believe me, I’ve spent time on my knees for him, too—I suppose God can even take care of a man like Tucker and smooth out the grainy bits.”

Angel thought a moment. “If I pray, do you think God might help me find my mother?”

Her hopeful words melted the stern look off Mama’s features. “It’s that important to you?”

“Yes. I—I never knew her.” She didn’t bother telling her she thought she was dead up until a few weeks before.

“Well, child. God can mend anything. With a little prayer. And sometimes it might take a lot, as in the case of Tucker.” Mama slyly winked.

Angel thought about Mama’s words all the rest of the afternoon and on through the evening as she sold tickets outside the tent with Cassie’s act. Mama and Nettie thought a lot alike. Two people of different race, background, culture, and personality—but both retained the same strong beliefs in God and His power, and both were excited about it, making Angel wonder. She had attended Sunday morning services with Aunt Genevieve and her cousins but had never really listened to the elderly minister, whose quiet voice droned on and on, often making her sleepy or causing her mind to wander in countless directions.

“Hello!” a bright voice snapped Angel out of her musings. She counted change back into a customer’s hand for the two ten-cent tickets he purchased and turned to the girl who hailed her.

“Jezebel?” Angel expressed surprise to see the girl, perhaps three years younger than herself.

“I was asked to take over your spot for a while.”

“Take over?” Angel put the dollar into the strongbox. “Why?”

“Because I asked her to,” a deep voice suddenly said from nearby, startling Angel and setting her pulse to pounding.