Whistling for the Elephants (19 page)

‘I am
not going to let this ruin my life.’

I was
just about to pull off home but the next thing I knew, Sweetheart ran out with
Perry in her arms and got in the car.

‘Hurry
up! Drive! Drive!’

Harry
came storming out of the house and ran at the car so I just floored it. We hit
Amherst so fast the car fish-tailed round the corner. This was new. This was
real driving. I had people in the car. Passengers. I pulled on the huge
steering wheel to try and sit up more and see more while still pressing the
accelerator. I knew to stay on the right-hand side of the road but I didn’t
know how to get anyplace except the bit of Amherst which I had just tried, and
I really didn’t know anyplace off Amherst except the zoo. Perry was crying and
Sweetheart was trying to comfort him.

‘Where
are you going?’ she asked.

‘The
zoo,’ I said.

It was
as if she expected it. ‘Yes. Good.’

When we
got there it was completely dark. I knew my way around so it wasn’t a problem. I
opened the car door for Sweetheart and kind of held her by the elbow. She had
Perry in her arms and she just let me guide her like I knew what I was doing. I
liked that. Like Father leading Mother across the road. What was strange was
that I didn’t need to. She knew exactly where we were going. As usual the place
was wide open so we wandered in through the Tibetan ticket booth. It should
have been like one of my silent spy moments but we all jumped when the fire
siren went and the timber wolves began to howl. It woke Mr Honk up. He fanned
his feathers at me. I’d have liked to show Perry how handsome he was but it
would have to wait. Sweetheart had started making very still crying sounds and
I didn’t know what to do. I mean, she was too old to cry.

‘It’s
real good you’re not wearing a hat,’ I tried. ‘Queen Sammuramat, she’s the
ostrich, she’s taken to attacking anyone wearing a hat. Do you know about Queen
Sammuramat? She ruled Assyria for forty-two years. She irrigated the whole of
Babylon and led military campaigns as far as India.’

Maybe
it wasn’t appropriate but it was all I could think of. I don’t think I had ever
thought about what Cosmos, Helen and Miss Strange did when the zoo was closed.
I just presumed they would be there, and that night they were. The lights were
on in the food store. Miss Strange was sitting with Sappho, the female orangutan.
Sappho had a big flat face like she had swallowed a Frisbee, a neat beard and a
sad expression. Actually everyone looked serious. There was a discussion going
on between Cosmos and Miss Strange. The orangutan seemed to be taking an active
part, or at least a more active role than Helen. As usual, Helen, all-brown
Helen, was curled up in a corner so that I didn’t notice her at first.

They
couldn’t have been expecting us but when Miss Strange saw Sweetheart she stood
up. Mr Paton was perched on her shoulder but he didn’t move or speak. I’m sure
I hadn’t thought about what would happen but I know it surprised me.

‘Hello,
Sugar,’ said Miss Strange as if I had never snubbed her in the ice-cream store.
Perry had fallen asleep and without a word Miss Strange shook out her coat on a
hay bale. Then she took Perry from Sweetheart’s arms and laid him on the warm
coat. She didn’t say a word but led Sweetheart to sit down. I would have
thought there were a million questions but she didn’t mention how late it was
or ask how we came to be there. Miss Strange took out a handkerchief and gently
wiped away Sweetheart’s tears.

‘I need
your help again,’ said Sweetheart.

‘Of
course,’ said Miss Strange. ‘I’m glad you came, Sweetheart. We have a problem
and I need your advice.’ I went and sat with Cosmos. It was confusing. I didn’t
even know Miss Strange knew Sweetheart. ‘We’ve had some news. You remember Artemesia?’

Sweetheart
nodded. ‘Oh, bless her. Didn’t you lend her to a circus?’

‘I did.
It’s folded and they want us to take her back.’

‘Will
you?’

‘I
thought about it. I don’t know if we can deal with her. It’s been thirty years.’

‘You’d
learn again.’

‘Do you
think so? They might close the zoo before I can find out.’

Sweetheart
and Miss Strange talked like two old ladies who had met for a gossip. Cosmos
sat back on a hay bale, whittling slowly at a new flute with her knife, while
Helen sat entirely still. An exercise in camouflage. Mr Paton climbed down from
his perch on Miss Strange. He carefully walked a short distance and collected
some pieces of straw. He returned with a beakful, which he laid at Miss Strange’s
feet. Then he climbed back up beside her head, settled on the sloping shoulder
and very quietly leaned forward to stroke her deformed cheek. Miss Strange
looked at the bird.

‘It’s getting
cold. Let’s all go up to the house. Sugar, do you have to go home?’ she asked
gruffly.

‘No,’ I
said, not really sure. Miss Strange shrugged and picked up Perry. As she did
she stroked his cheek and held him close. I had never seen Miss Strange be soft
with anyone. We walked up to the big house.

Every
time I went to the Burroughs House I remember being amazed. It was a fairy-tale
place where extraordinary people in an unreal time had played out their lives.
Our little band of women, the abandoned boy and an orangutan crunched up the
circular drive to the front marble steps. In the still moonlight we climbed the
five steps to three high arches supported by Greek goddesses which heralded the
front door. A front door carved from twelve-foot-high pieces of maple into
Roman panels.

The
library seemed to be the only room in regular use now. It didn’t have dust
sheets on the furniture and there were signs that people still lived there.
Cosmos lit a fire in a fireplace you could live in while Sweetheart and Miss
Strange settled Perry on a sofa. Cosmos went to get some more wood.

‘Helen,’
said Miss Strange. ‘Some cocoa.’ They went out, Helen silently fluttering
behind the height and strength of Miss Strange. Sweetheart and I were left
alone by the fire with Perry sleeping. He slept without a trouble in the world.
I guess-he didn’t know who did or didn’t want him. Sweetheart sat down in a
chair and I sat on the floor beside her. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want
to draw attention to myself in case I was made to go. After a time Sweetheart
got up and began wandering around the room. She picked up small objects from
the library shelves and looked at them. After a while she stopped in front of a
sepia photograph in a silver frame. When she spoke I don’t think she was really
talking to me. She just stood looking at the picture. Billie and John Junior
smiled back at her from inside the shining frame.

‘This
was the room where I was interviewed. I never thought anyone would give me a
job again. John needed a secretary. He was doing so many shows then, and there
was the business. He left Billie to choose. She was quite fussy.’ Sweetheart
laughed to herself ‘She didn’t want anyone too good-looking and she didn’t want
a man because any man who was willing to be a secretary had to be a … Well,
anyway, I was last on the list. Come all the way from South Carolina. I was
twenty-eight. I had great secretarial skills but no references. Billie was just
getting to this when Grace slipped in the back of the room. She stood there by
the door.

‘“You
say you have ten years of experience?” said Billie.

‘“Yes,”
I replied.

“‘Yet
you don’t have one recent employer who will vouch for you?”

‘“No.”
And I looked her straight in the eye. “You see, I am not married and I have a
son. He’s eight. I used to keep it quiet and then when anyone found out I
usually got fired. I got tired of living a lie. I can’t do it and I don’t think
it’s good for my son. I don’t want him to grow up that way. So I came to New
York. I hear you have a more liberal attitude.” For all her gusto I don’t think
she knew what to say or do. She was a Catholic at heart, you know. She kind of
stumbled.

‘“Yes,
well, uh … Miss … uh …’

‘“Schlick.”

‘“We’ll
have to..

‘And
Grace spoke up from the door. I can still hear her. “Hire you. We’ll have to
hire you. You’re hired. Welcome to Burroughs House, Miss Schlick.” She saved me
and Harry and now Harry won’t…’

‘Harry
lived here?’

‘Oh
yes. John fussed so over him. He bought Harry a little tuxedo for parties.
There was a miniature railway cart which ran from the cellars right into the
house and behind John’s chair at the dining table. Harry used to work the car
and serve the champagne. John loved that. He left me to arrange everything. Used
to call me his sweetheart. And the house was always full of people. Rich people,
friends of rich people, and crazy people from the shows. Emile Pallenberg was
always trouble if he came. He had a troupe of bears who had been trained to
roller-skate and bicycle and insisted on doing it across the terrace. Then
there was Patrick Culpeper from the New United Monster Shows who arrived with
an entire tribe of Zulus just as we were sitting down to lunch, and Colonel
Edgar Daniel Boone and Miss Carlotta came with their lions one Christmas Eve.
Nothing was strange then. Everyone just got on with being who they needed to
be. There was John’s Uncle Robert, who refused to sit down at dinners but rode
round the table on his giant tortoise Rotumah, wearing a top hat and waving a
lettuce leaf on a stick in front of its mouth. John had bought Rotumah from
Lord Rothschild, the Honourable Walter, for one hundred fifty dollars. It was
Uncle Robert’s second tortoise. He said the first one died from sexual over—
excitation, but as he was a lone male everyone thought it was either unlikely
or peculiar. Uncle Robert would go round and round the table telling stories
about Africa.’

‘So Joseph Tompson’s
making his way across the highlands, totally uncharted, and a group of these
warriors, the Masai, get after him.’ Uncle Robert paused in his story to shake
a lettuce leaf at Rotumah and get him moving. The tortoise lumbered forward. ‘Well,
Tompson hightails off on his horse and they catch him. He stands there facing
them in their tribal paint, terrifying, and Tompson is shaking so much his
false teeth fall out in his hand. Bingo. The natives think he is magic and
start worshipping this man who can take all his teeth out.’

John
Junior laughed and nodded. ‘Magic, that’s what holds them. I once got given a
very nice woman because I convinced the chief that my hurricane lamp was really
a piece of star fallen to earth.’

John
and I are thinking of going to Africa. Aren’t we, John?’ called Billie.

Absolutely.’

‘You’ll
love it, my dear,’ replied the tortoise—supported Robert. All you have to
remember is to keep the spirits up, the bowels open, and wear flannel next to
the skin.’

It
was a heady time. There were the parties, where for three days cars swept
continuously up the circular drive, to be met by John and Billie on the front
marble steps and then passed on into Sweetheart’s care. Everyone came. Not the
old money, but the new stuff with all sorts of people from every walk.
Prominent industrialists, politicians, celebrities
—
Alfred
Smith and James J. Walker; the Governor and Mayor of New York; Florenz Zieglield
and his wife, also called Billie; Bernard McFadden, the body builder; Lord Cranworth,
the African explorer; and people from the bootlegging business which by now
kept the Burroughs enterprise afloat. Billie and John had their portrait taken
to mark their engagement. She looked almost coy as she posed, all in fur
despite the summer heat. A sepia picture showing a white leopard coat with
beaver collar, leopard hat and single red rose exposed at her bosom. Her hands
hidden in a matching fur muff John standing beside her— tall and bursting from
his waistcoat with pride and affluence. At the engagement party everyone got
presents. Sweetheart was told to slip a $100 bill under everyone’s plate and
Harry was allowed to sit at the table.

‘This
wine comes direct from France,’ beamed John, serving endless banned claret. ‘Well,
it swings by a relay station. The French island of Miquelon, off the Canadian
coast? I have Bill McCoy’s word that it’s genuine,’ he boasted, smiling at
Billie. ‘Did you know there’s some Prohibition crazy trying to rewrite the
Bible? Ain’t that right, Phoebe?’

Phoebe
smiled. ‘Dr Charles
…
Something. He wants to
remove all references to wine. So Jesus will turn water into a cake of raisins.’

Sweetheart
did not sit.

‘More
eland, anyone?’ she would ask while Grace, as usual, devoted herself entirely
to Phoebe. She would allow no one else to help her and more often than not
carried her rather than put her in the wheelchair.

‘What
do you reckon to Harding, John? Gonna be President?’ called a guest.

‘No
way. Poor old Warren hasn’t a Chinaman’s chance.’ Everyone nodded. John was the
oracle. The wine flowed.

During
dessert, Unus, the Upside-Down, Gravity-Defying, Equilibristic Wonder of the
World, stood on the table to entertain. His real name was Franz Furtner of
Vienna. Like the guests, he wore tails, but also had a top hat and white
gloves. Sweetheart arranged a lighted globe on the centre of the table and
turned out the lights. Unus waited till he had everyone’s full attention. Then
he put the forefinger of his right hand on the globe, near the Antarctic, and
went up into a handstand. Well, a fingerstand.