Sabina’s last image was of herself walking beside Liza. There was also a rather disparaging scene of a dog walking behind its owner on a chain, conveying all the disgust the Tasmanian tiger could muster. She wouldn’t abide a leash.
Liza told her the rules: no biting, no running off too far, no snarling at the carnies (unnecessarily, anyway). Sabina sent back her response, of Liza walking round and round in a tiny, endless circle, her way of saying the human was repeating herself.
They set off to find Ishe, Liza nearly bursting with pride.
As she and Sabina wandered through the grounds, people gave them a wide berth.
“You should put her on a leash,” Clay admonished her when he spotted the pair.
“She won’t wear a leash. She told me.”
The carnival manager shook his head. But even if he didn’t believe her, Uly had the scars to prove that messing with Sabina was a bad idea.
“Besides, I’m practicing for the act. It’s almost ready.”
“About time,” he muttered, but he appeared mollified.
Ishe was sitting outside his trailer carving when Liza approached. Too late, she wondered if a half hyena and a Tasmanian tiger would be at odds, but to her surprise, Sabina curled up at Ishe’s feet as if she’d known the man her entire life. Liza settled herself onto the lush grass.
Ishe looked at Liza, then Sabina. “She spoke to you, didn’t she?”
Liza beamed. “Finally. Now I can put my show together.”
“One step at a time,” Ishe cautioned, but he half grinned his approval and went back to carving.
“A hyena?” Liza asked, shocked. “You’re carving a hyena?”
“You think you the only one tryin’ to make sense of something about your nature you don’t quite catch yet?”
“And you think the carving may help?”
Ishe held out the figure in the palm of his hand, turning it around, checking out his work. “Can’t say I know. Can’t even say this is what I expected when I started.”
Liza watched Ishe from the corner of her eye and worked up the nerve to ask the question she’d been wanting to since that night in the alley. “How did you come to be the way you are?” she eased out.
Ishe kept on carving, but she could see his chest heave with a heavy intake of breath. When he met her eyes, the pain was as raw as any she’d ever seen. He leaned forward, forearms on his knees. “Partnership of man and beast is sometimes an invention of the devil.”
Liza frowned. “I don’t like riddles.”
“Me neither.”
There wouldn’t be any further discussion on the matter—that much was clear. Liza leaned back, palms outstretched on the ground behind her, and accepted what Ishe could offer. It was enough. She contented herself watching him work, Sabina curled at his feet, and judging by the way he occasionally stopped to show her his progress, he was pleased to have her as his audience. Letting the peaceful day wash over her, she removed her amulet from the pouch and tumbled the discs inside between her fingers.
He set the carving down. “What you always fiddling with there?” He gestured at the amulet. Sabina lifted her head, did an owl-worthy neck swivel between them as if assessing the change in mood, but finding everything in order, yawned loudly and lay down again.
Liza grew protective, went to put the amulet back in her pouch. “Something my mother gave me . . . before. Before I left.”
Ishe held out his hand, waved his fingers in a come-on-let-me-see motion.
Liza huffed and placed the amulet in his outstretched hand. Ishe studied the discs for a moment and looked back at her. “You don’t know what you got here?”
“I told you, some old necklace.” She shifted on the ground.
Ishe came to his feet and, with him, Sabina. “Didn’t your mama teach you nothin’ about your people?”
Liza stood, dumbfounded and the tiniest bit annoyed. Ishe had been born in Africa; she hadn’t. Who was he to judge her if she didn’t know everything about the place? “I didn’t stay with them long enough, I guess.”
“We got our own animal spirits like these at home.” He paused, then said, “Nigeria.”
This was the first time Ishe had mentioned something about his life before the carnival, and though Liza wanted to probe, to find out more about him, she was too caught up in the new discovery. Nigeria, same as Ikaki. It all seemed to lead back there.
“What do the carvings mean?”
Ishe gave her back the amulet, and she secured it away. “I don’t know how yet, but this must be a key, and you gonna have to figure out how to put it in the lock and open the door.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
THE MYSTICAL BEASTMISTRESS
There were two sides to every coin, and in Liza’s experience, the same could be said of most towns she’d visited. San Antonio, Texas, was no exception. East San Antonio was reserved for the Negro population and was home to the famous Sutton family. They were big-time firsts in an era that wasn’t too friendly to pioneers of a certain hue. Owned everything from a funeral home to the farm where Liza’s family had stopped to buy vegetables once.
It was fitting, then, that this was where she’d debut her animal show.
Despite Clay’s repeated attempts to get a glimpse of the show Liza was putting together, she’d told him that he would see it right along with everybody else. Problem was, animals were fickle—everybody knew that. She hoped that today, her opening night, wouldn’t be one of those times. She was looking forward to running her own show and the bump in pay that went along with it.
“You owe me one.” Wendell was one of the most skilled carpenters Liza had ever seen, so she’d asked him for a little help building a set for her act. “Go on—take a peek.” He beamed.
Liza lifted the cloth and grinned. “Perfect. And I promise, I’ll pay you out of what I make from my show tonight.”
“I don’t know what you got planned, but can’t wait to see it. Wouldn’t hurt if you slapped a coat of paint or something on it,” Wendell added. “You know, jazz it up some.”
“I’ll do that,” Liza said, but she wondered if she’d make any money at all if she had to go and beg and borrow for paint too.
She’d barely finished the thought before her trailer mate, Autumn, strolled in. “Figured this is where I’d find you,” she said and then turned to the builder. “Hey, Wendell.”
If Wendell were a white man, he’d have been blushing like a rose in full bloom. He looked as if he was going to bow but pulled up short. “Autumn. Um, Ms. Autumn. Uh, you look . . . well, you look nice today.”
“As nice as I do with my clothes off?” Autumn teased. Liza put her hand to her mouth to stifle the laugh that tickled the back of her throat.
Wendell opened his mouth but tripped repeatedly over his own tongue, spewing a string of unintelligible words before making a hasty exit from the tent. Autumn and Liza broke out laughing.
“You shouldn’t tease him like that,” Liza said once she’d composed herself. “I think he likes you.”
Autumn pulled the shawl over her shoulders. Liza couldn’t figure out for the life of her how the woman could be cold. “Like the rest of these carnies, he’s in love with the woman they sneak in to see up on that stage. That lady isn’t any more real than the broads they gawk at in their girlie magazines. Sad thing is, the poor idiots don’t even know it.”
Liza pondered this for a moment. Autumn surprised her sometimes, and she wondered again why she did what she did. “Maybe they’re happier that way,” she said finally. “You know, sometimes real life isn’t so much fun.”
“Whatever gets you through the day,” Autumn replied, then gestured at the animals. “Anyway, you tore out of the trailer so fast . . .”
It was Autumn’s turn to be uncomfortable. She tugged and pinched at Liza’s new uniform, a gift from Clay. A garish pair of ballooning red pants cinched tightly at the waist and ankle, paired with a blouse of finely woven white muslin with embroidered gold-and-red f
ringe surrounding the wrists, some beaded embellishments Autumn had sewn on. Silken booties with a neat bow and a sharp gold vest completed the outfit.
“I wanted to wish you good luck with your show.”
“Thank you,” Liza said. “I appreciate it.”
With that, Autumn sashayed out of the tent.
Liza gaped at the new banner that had joined the others on the makeshift carnival wall: a hand-drawn picture of herself, flanked by her animals, Ikaki on the right and Sabina on the left.
Clay had scheduled Liza for only one show tonight. Said he had to see how she would do before he would gamble on any more. Liza couldn’t blame him; had she any coins to spare, she’d likewise place her bets elsewhere. She’d built each piece of the act steadily, if slowly, with what Sabina and Ikaki had agreed to do. The question remained of whether they would do as asked on her command. If they refused to perform, then her place with the carnival, her new home, would be no more. She hadn’t even saved enough for a ticket back to Baton Rouge. The whole thing sapped her appetite and rattled her nerves so much her head throbbed.
She felt Jamey’s presence, her senses attuned to the earth, just as her father had taught her. He touched her elbow as he stepped up next to her.
“Gonna be a good night,” he said. “I can feel it.”
“You really think so?” Liza asked, unconvinced.
“I know it.” Jamey met and held her eyes. “You look mighty fine in that getup.”
They were admiring the banner when his fingers sought out hers. Gently, he pulled her to him and took her other hand. He met her eyes, and she fought not to look away from the intensity of his gaze. He leaned down; she raised up on the tips of her toes. And there, on the wings of the most important day of her life, their lips met, flooding her body with all kinds of pleasant sensations she’d never felt before. She carried the grin all the way to the animal tent.
By nightfall, the carnival atmosphere was in full swing. On her way to her performance tent, Liza skirted scantily clad women with their beaded garb and towering headdresses. They pulsed through the crowd with frenetic dance moves. The stilt walkers waded through on their stilts along with the others. Games, bells, and the thump of African drums filled the air.
Once inside her tent, Liza paced nervously while the pitchman wooed the crowd. “Come one, come all. See the enchanting, the beautiful, the Mystical Beastmistress!”
The animals’ cages had been moved behind a curtain at the rear. The set was impressive: an ornately carved wooden frame met a slightly raised platform, leaving the audience to think they were looking through a picture window. Inside, a large pool sat enclosed by a tiny picket fence with a set of five steps placed diagonally across from it. Low benches filled the remainder of the space, and already they were full, with more waiting outside.
Liza emerged from behind the curtain with a flourish. Ikaki trailed slowly behind, making their way over to the pool, and Sabina stood beside Liza, snout lifted to the air, tail stiffly out behind her. Liza’s hair was parted down the middle, plaited into braids, then wrapped atop her head. Mico sat on her shoulder, peering alternately at the crowd and the animals. Sabina bared her teeth and growled at the audience, earning a few gasps. One person even ran out.
From the corner of her eye, Liza noticed Clay settled in as unobtrusively as possible near the tent entrance.
“Ladies and gentlemen.” Liza’s voice cracked as she stepped forward, flashing a smile she’d worked on all afternoon. “Welcome to my show. I’m Liza, the Mystical Beastmistress. Meet my friends Mico, Sabina, and Ikaki.” A small bit of applause filled the space. The crowd was not won over yet.
“Our Sabina here is what you call a Tasmanian tiger, and she is the last of her kind. Come to us all the way from Australia. Ikaki is a turtle, but don’t be fooled. They’re not any ordinary turtle but a dancing one.” At that the crowd whooped and hollered. “And this little guy”—she pointed to Mico—“he found me, and, well, I don’t know where he came from, and he wants you to know that he’s here as our eager assistant. He’s a pygmy marmoset. They are the smallest monkeys on the planet, hailing all the way from South America. Now, on with the show.”
Liza moved first to Ikaki. “Ikaki would like to ask for a volunteer from the audience, a child, please.” Several hands shot up, and Liza picked a bright-faced little girl from the front who had a gap in her teeth so like Twiggy’s that Liza’s heart squeezed. “Looks like we have our volunteer.” Mico scurried down to provide an escort. The crowd clapped.
“What’s your name, little lady?” Liza asked.
“Beaulah!” the girl said loudly.
“Okay, Beaulah, Ikaki would like to ask you to do a dance, a simple one that they will imitate.”
“Nuh-uh!” the girl said, and when Liza grinned, she whipped out a simple two-step dance.
Ikaki, who had been stationed by Liza’s feet, looked up at her with obvious disinterest, sent her an image of themself swimming, and promptly waddled over to the pool. The turtle hoisted themself in with a splash and swam as if this were the most natural thing in the world to do at that moment. Liza’s insides crumbled, her armpits soaked with sweat.
The crowd collectively leaned forward, anticipating. Then they laughed.
Liza’s smile disintegrated. She pleaded, sending Ikaki images of the dance, of their agreement. Ikaki swam a few more laps in what Liza figured was a perfect display of being downright ornery and then emerged, water glistening on their back.
Ikaki took their time positioning in front of the crowd, then raised up and imitated the little girl’s dance perfectly. The child beamed and giggled, the crowd roared, and Clay stood at the back gaping, his hands now at his sides.
“Thank you, Beaulah,” Liza said. “Anybody else? Ikaki says they’re good for at least three more dances.”
Volunteers surged forward, and even when Ikaki couldn’t imitate the dances exactly, they improvised, caught up in the action, inventing their own moves and getting the crowd going. Abruptly, though, Ikaki grew tired of the games and waddled back to the pool. It was time for Sabina.
“Now we have our girl Sabina,” Liza said.
Sabina first shocked the crowd by raising up and walking a few steps on her hind legs. Then, at Liza’s command, she moved over to the steps and hopped up each one. At the top step she peered out at the onlookers, and in a show of her incredible sense of smell, she deftly sent Liza an image of all three people in the audience who’d had whiskey before the show. Liza informed the crowd of the tiger’s picks and commanded two men and one woman to stand. When she spelled out the trio’s choice of after-supper spirits, the crowd guffawed. Sabina then leaped off and landed in front of the crowd, who broke out in cheers.
Mico then emerged from the corner, pushing a large round ball and earning delighted giggles from the children. Liza said, “Did you know that a Tasmanian tiger can open its jaws a full twelve inches?”
With that Liza tossed the ball up in the air, and Sabina leaped to meet it. Her jaws snapped open at a seemingly unbelievable angle, revealing a series of sharp, jagged teeth. She caught the ball in her mouth and landed elegantly back on the ground. She dropped the ball at Liza’s feet and pushed it toward her with her snout. The ball rolled, completely intact, over to Liza, who put her foot on top of it and threw her arms out in a flourish. The crowd came to its feet, clapping and cheering.
“Steps!” Liza called out, and Sabina trotted back to the top stair. “Open.” Sabina opened her mouth, and Liza leaned forward, turned to make sure she faced the crowd, and slid her head between the gaping jaws.
“Sweet Jesus!” someone from the crowd called out.
“Okay, now I need three more volunteers!” Liza announced. Clay had moved even closer by now.
Liza had one volunteer line up on his hands and knees, with the next two standing in line by order of height. After a bit of cajoling, she got the last man to place an apple between his teeth. She then waved a hand, and Sabina took a r
unning start, leaped over the kneeling man, then rose on her hind legs and hopped over the first woman. For the finale, Sabina bounded into the air, snatched the apple from the man’s mouth, and landed lightly on her feet.
Despite the look of composure on Liza’s face, her stomach was doing somersaults inside. She plastered the smile back on her face and took a bow.
After the show ended and everyone had filed out, Clay stepped forward. “I’d say that was a fair first show.”
“It was a darn good first show,” Liza countered.
“Got another gasser on my hands, I see.” Clay couldn’t manage a smile, but the look of satisfaction was unmistakable. “The animals up for another show?”
“I believe they are.” Liza grinned.
Clay slapped his thigh. The burgeoning smile faded, replaced by the normal, grim set of his mouth and a touch of melancholy. He turned then and left the tent.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
SOWING THE SEEDS OF TROUBLE
The G. B. Bacchanal Carnival crept into the city of Amarillo, Texas, under the cover of a baleful indigo night sky. Prickly tumbleweeds rumbled across the sunbaked terrain, and the catcalls of crickets and rodents and their predators sailed on the wind like a primeval orchestra. Lightning cut through thick gray clouds bunched up like bushels of oversize grapes.
Nobody was much interested in sleep with the excited buzz of being in a new city. Folks tossed dice, threw back beers, and swapped stories.
Bacchanal didn’t seek to compete with the likes of P. T. Barnum’s circus but had carved out a niche all their own in the smaller towns and those places off the wider circuit. In places where law enforcement wasn’t always so boastful in their work, a little coin was all that was needed for the special types of dispensations Bacchanal required. And for the occasional disappearances that seemed to occur whenever the carnival was in town.
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