Earthly Astonishments

by Marthe Jocelyn

  A man wearing a crimson vest over his shirt strutted back and forth. He cracked his knuckles and then continued his chanting song.

  “I have the fantastic ability to guess your weight without the assistance of a scale or device of any kind. Who will be the first to test my skills?”

  “I knew it!” said Charley. “Watch that fellow closely. Tell me what he does next. He’s a scalawag in disguise.”

  “He’s just talking,” said Josephine.

  “Is there a gent nearby with a lot of pockets?”

  “Yes, and he’s a bit plump. He’s stepping up now to the first fellow.”

  “Best actor on the beach,” murmured Charley. “Keep watching.”

  “You don’t mind me seeing what’s clothes and what isn’t, do you sir?” The crimson-vested fellow kept up his cheerful chatter while he patted the volunteer on the shoulders and the back and the sides.

  “That tummy I can guess without touching!” he announced, drawing a laugh from the gathering crowd.

  “This man!” he went one. “This man, who does not restrain his appetite … This man weighs two hundred and seventeen pound!”

  The plump man’s mouth fell open. “He’s got it right! I was at the doctor only yesterday, and the scales said two hundred and seventeen if they said an ounce!”

  “How did he do that?” Josephine was amazed.

  The two men shook hands and the plump one handed over a nickel. “Well done! This is a clever fellow!” He declared to all who listened.

  “Who’s next?” asked the weight guesser. “Don’t be shy! I can whisper, if you don’t want the tonnage known generally…”

  “There’s another fellow now,” said Josephine. “Not quite so fat, wearing a smart, new bowler hat.”

  “You don’t mind me seeing what’s clothes and what isn’t, do you sir?” The routine had begun again.

  The new customer wore a genial smirk while he was being patted and assessed. This time, however, the guess was off by twenty-two pounds, and the crowd jeered its disappointment.

  “Are you watching?” said Charley. “Did you see anything?”

  Josephine had noticed nothing that might have Charley dancing about on his toes like this. The bystanders were dispersing, on to more captivating games.

  “Keep watching the man with the pockets, Jo. He’s the secret.”

  The man weighing two hundred and seventeen pounds, Josephine reported, had paused on the beach, just a few yards away. The weight-guesser sidled close to him.

  “He’s passed him something that sent off a twinkle in the sun!” announced Josephine. “Something gold!”

  “I told you!” crowed Charley, as if he himself had done the nimble deed. “That watch belonged to the Bowler Hat only moments ago!”

  “How did you know?” asked Josephine, in amazement. “Without even seeing!”

  “These two gents are partners and have worked the avenue every summer I can remember. They’re very good. They only get arrested once or twice a year. And coppers’ll take spondulicks quick as any man. So they’re back the next day.”

  “Spondulicks? Charley, where do you come up with these words?”

  “Just means cash money, but it sounds better, doesn’t it?”

  “I don’t know what you’re so chirk for, Charley. You’ll be picking pockets yourself next. Now, come on, I’m taking off my high-lows. I want to touch the ocean with my plain bare feet!”

  She unbuckled her boots and peeled off her stockings. She shoved them into Charley’s pockets and set out across the beach, curling her toes and squealing at the heat of the sand on her soles.

  All around her, men and women alike were wearing dark, woolen bathing costumes. The women’s were short dresses, with flared skirts and puffed sleeves and sometimes sailor collars. Most of them wore black stockings too, so that every inch was covered, except for freckled arms. The men revealed their hairy legs, poking out from tight black suits.

  “They look like camisoles stitched onto drawers. Aren’t they silly!”

  Josephine was fascinated by the multitude of knees. “Knees are really very ugly when seen in a large crop like this,” she said to Charley with a giggle.

  The ocean was kicking up waves today, green and frothy, dragging pebbles with each roll. Josephine let only her toes get wet, unnerved by the churning pull under her feet. Children ran toward the water and then tumbled back, shrieking, as the foam leapt at them. Grown-ups were shrieking too, trying to tiptoe into the surf and getting knocked sideways. A long line of laughing people grasped the swimming rope, which was tethered between a pole on the beach and another pole twenty yards into the water.

  “Can you swim, Charley?”

  “No. It wouldn’t be good for my skin.”

  “Well, I mean to learn, maybe, one day.”

  “Someone your size could probably float without trying. I’ll bet Filipe knows how. You could ask him.”

  A pair of boys holding shovels and tin buckets stopped right in front of Josephine and stared. Then they looked up at Charley, who grimaced with a monstrous face, swivelling his pink eyes.

  “Mama!” One of them howled, and they both ran.

  “We’d best be off,” said Charley. “Mr. Walters doesn’t like us being looked at without him getting the pennies in his pocket.” Reluctantly Josephine turned away from the ocean and headed back toward the esplanade.

  “That sounds like something my pa might say,” said Josephine. “He was a schemer, too, though he could learn a few tricks from Mr. Walters.”

  “You never said about your pa,” said Charley, “or your mum either. I thought they might be dead.”

  “They might be,” said Josephine. “But I wouldn’t know it.”

  Charley was waiting for more, she could tell. How to explain?

  “Your mother loves you, Charley. The way she pesters you and rubs your hair, I can see it. She doesn’t care you’re the color of paste.”

  “You’re telling me your mum didn’t love you? Because you’re wee?”

  “I think she might have loved me when I was a baby. She must have.” Josephine was pretty certain about that, though she couldn’t remember.

  “But when I didn’t grow … folks told her I was cursed. They left things beside our door, amulets and little crosses.” Josephine hadn’t thought about this in a long time. Her throat felt clogged. “I found a doll one time with no legs. I thought it was a present and I tried to fix her. That convinced the neighbors I was evil and a sign from the devil. My mother got to be afraid of me. My pa was practical; he thought I could be worth something. But my ma was afraid more than anything. She didn’t want me to be hers anymore.”

  “Nelly says my dad took one look at me and ran out the door,” said Charley quietly, twirling the umbrella slowly above his head, making the shadow spin on the sand. “She never saw him again.”

  “I wish—” said Josephine. “Can I tell you? I wish that people could grow up before they had to have a family. So they would know what sort of folk they wanted to be family with. Then we could choose for ourselves.”

  “I suppose that’s what your mum was doing,” said Charley.

  “You mean choosing not to have me anymore?”

  Charley nodded, his eyes shifting away.

  “I never thought of that,” said Josephine.

  “Or maybe she just meant to free you up, to find the right family for you.” Charley liked that idea better. “And see? You found Nelly and me.”

  “It took an awful long time. And you and Filipe had better stop teasing me, Charley O’Dooley, or I’ll keep looking!”

  “What do you think brothers do, Jo? We tease. And I’m thinking I need more practice….”

  MacLaren Academy

  July 8, 1884

  Dear Josephine,

  I keep wondering if you have ever got my letter? Perhaps you could write back to me to tell me that all is well? I keep wondering what it might be like to live in the circus which I imagine is somethi
ng like where you are. Nancy and Anne went to Mr. PT Barnum’s circus with Nancy’s father, they said there was a wild tiger and the tamer had diamonds on his shirt, also a lady who had bare legs and hung upside down from a trapeze.

  School is just as dreary and so hot I can hardly stay awake during sums, I wish you were here to be my friend.

  God Bless, your friend, Emmy

  he sun’s been shining every day like it had a prize to win.” Charley was complaining again and kicking at Josephine’s ladder. When he stood beside her platform and she lay on her tummy, Josephine could look straight into his face. They were waiting for the opening bell to ring, for the spectators to pour into the dark hall like ants into molasses.

  “Your mood is black enough to darken the sky, Charley. Maybe you could just scowl into the daylight and scare it away.”

  “It’s fine for you to make fun, Jo. You go brown like a sailor out there. I blister up like old paint.”

  “It’s not as though I have a chance to sniff the air myself, Charley! We’re both stuck in this cave from the morning bell till night!”

  The toe of Charley’s boot was scuffed bare from kicking. Josephine had never seen him in such a mood.

  “How about—?” She tried to think. What might cheer him up? “How about, let’s not go straight back to the boarding house after closing. It’ll be evening then, no sun to worry about. You can show me the sights.”

  “We’re the sights,” grumbled Charley. “But I suppose I could, if it’ll make you happy.”

  Eight o’clock found them strolling away from the museum in high spirits.

  “We’ll turn left on Surf Avenue,” said Charley. “Opposite to if we were going home.”

  Tonight they were tourists. The street was abuzz with the evening trade. Beachgoers paused on their way to the train, hungry to shop from carts brimming with oysters, clams, corn, chowder, pork pies, and ham sandwiches. Other folk were just arriving, anticipating a night of dancing or card-playing.

  Even at Josephine’s level, there was plenty to look at. She was an expert on ladies’ shoes and carriage wheels and the array of wonders to be found in the gutter of any city block. So when Charley tapped her head, she was amazed to find herself staring up at an enormous elephant made of tin. Josephine was not even as big as one of its painted toenails.

  “What’s that?”

  “That’s Lucy. It’s a hotel inside. With a dance floor and a store and thirty-four rooms for sleeping in.”

  “Can we look?”

  Charley shook his head. “Nelly would tan my hide if I took you there. They pretend you could stay there with a family, but really it’s for gamblers and drinkers and ladies who sell their affections.” He glanced at her to see if she understood. He was certainly cheered to be in the role of a tour guide.

  “Nothing you like better,” said Josephine, “than to know more than every other body.”

  Charley smiled at her, resting his fingertips lightly on her curls as he usually did when they walked together these days. He turned her gently around, and they headed back along Surf Avenue.

  “I’ve noticed something about you, Jo.”

  “And that would be?”

  “I’ve noticed that your teasing skills are improving. You are almost worthy of being a sister.”

  “Hah!” scoffed Josephine. “And who chose you to be the judge of that?”

  He gave her a poke and she poked him back. They wandered along for a bit, noticing how the music got louder as the sky darkened and the smell of beer grew stronger.

  “Did you ever eat in a restaurant, Charley?”

  “Oh sure, lots of times. Well, twice. And maybe more that I’m not recalling.”

  “How could you not remember eating your supper in a restaurant?”

  “Nelly took me to Feltman’s for my birthday last year. It’s in September, just before we move back to the city.”

  “What’s Feltman’s?”

  “See, over there: Feltman’s German Beer Garden.” He pointed to a large establishment with a street band playing outside its doors. The musician tooting on the cornet was wearing leather pants that stopped above the knees.

  “Did you drink beer?”

  “We ate the specialty of the house. Sausages served inside a roll instead of on a plate.”

  “Doesn’t it slip about?”

  “No, the bread grabs it like a mitten. But Filipe says that Feltman’s sausages are made of dog meat, that’s why they’re called hot dogs.”

  “Eeeew, Charley, don’t tell me that! Think of Barker ground up and turned into sausages!”

  “Hey!” whooped Charley suddenly, “I’ve got an idea! Come on, Jo! I’ll wager you’ve never ridden on a bicycle!”

  Before Josephine could utter a word, Charley had left her standing alone while he galloped away toward a shed with a painted sign overhead that shouted:

  WOOD’S BICYCLES 10¢

  Josephine raced after him, dodging a wagon loaded with beer barrels and arriving in time to see the bicycle boy staring at Charley with deep suspicion.

  “Never seen a ghost before, boy?” Charley was saying.

  “No, sir.”

  “Well, take a good look.” Charley lifted his tinted spectacles and bugged out his flaming eyes. The boy stepped back in alarm.

  “I’ll be needing a bicycle for two cents instead of ten,” said Charley, “or I’ll be haunting you till the day you’re a ghost yourself.”

  “Charley!”

  “Shush!”

  The boy seemed grateful to take two pennies and disappear into the shed. One minute later, Charley was astride a rusty black bicycle, wearing a grin as wide as his face would stretch.

  “Climb aboard!” he said.

  “You’ve lost what little brains you ever had, Charley O’Dooley! You want me to get aboard that contraption? Where am I supposed to sit?” Josephine eyed the wheels, higher than her own head.

  “Oh, she’s a fancy lady now, is she? Wants a gilded carriage wherever she goes!”

  Charley laughed as he leaned over, balancing the bicycle between his legs. He put his hands firmly under Josephine’s arms and swung her up, dress aflutter, to the handlebars, where he plunked her down with not a spot of respect. She clung to the bars for her very life, which set Charley to laughing even harder.

  “Can you see well enough to drive this thing, Charley? I don’t want to crash into a buggy or a-aaAAAH!”

  Charley had started to pedal and the bicycle wobbled forward, finding every bump in the road and picking up speed. Josephine clamped her lips to stop herself from screaming but forced her eyes open. They rattled past vendors and shoppers alike, at a pace that made Josephine’s head spin. And perhaps because Charley couldn’t see the numerous wagons and horses clogging the road, he kept swerving at the last moment before impact.

  “This is rip-roaring!” hooted Charley. “Isn’t it?”

  “Oh wait, Charley! Wait, stop! No, no, keep going! Look out! Ow!”

  The bicycle lurched to a stop, inches away from a small group of people at a stall that sold lemonade.

  Josephine was nearly flung off, but for her quick-gripping hands and Charley’s left arm snaking around her neck at the last moment.

  “Whoa!”

  The roughness of the stop, however, along with Josephine’s croak of terrified laughter and Charley’s yelp of joy made the cluster of lemonade buyers turn to stare.

  And who should be standing there but Nancy and Charlotte from the MacLaren Academy. Charlotte’s eyes nearly popped right out of her head, they opened so wide. Nancy clapped her hand to her mouth and spilled her lemonade all down the front of her pinafore.

  “Hello, girls!” Charley greeted them cheerfully, clearly hoping for the usual horrified reaction to his appearance. A man who must be Nancy’s father pulled out his pocket handkerchief. He scolded Charley while dabbing awkwardly at his daughter’s bodice.

  “You foolish boy! Are you blind?”

  “Near enough,”
smirked Charley.

  “How dare you careen down a populated street as if you were on a racetrack? You’re a danger to well-mannered citizens!”

  Josephine couldn’t help but agree. Her palms were rubbed raw from hanging on so tightly. But Charley’s tongue-lashing could wait. Nancy and Charlotte needed seeing to first.

  They were gawping at her in true shock. Charlotte’s face, so often pink, was all the way scarlet. Nancy, recovering more quickly, pointed at Josephine with a jabbing finger.

  “You!” she bellowed. “You!”

  Her father looked up in surprise, and then peered at Josephine more closely.

  “Aren’t you the little servant person from the school?” he inquired, looking at his daughter for confirmation.

  Oh, but she wasn’t their servant anymore! She could do whatever she pleased.

  “You’ll have to excuse us,” she said, producing a British accent out of thin air. “We have an engagement and mustn’t be late. Please drive on, Charles!”

  And Charley obliged at once, wheeling the bicycle around them and pushing off to continue their ride, acting as though nothing in the world could stop them.

  MacLaren Academy

  August 3, 1884

  Dear Josephine,

  I know you work very long hours in your new situation, so I’m not minding that you haven’t written to me yet, perhaps you did not receive my other letters?

  I know that you are Little Jo-Jo now, because Nancy and Charlotte were in such a twitter when they came back on Sunday. Nancy’s father takes her anywhere that features dancing girls, Nancy says he has a soft heart for dancing girls. (I’m sure I wouldn’t say such a thing about my father unless I wanted a scolding and no supper) He wouldn’t pay for them to go into the Museum of Earthly Astonishments to see “freaks and ruffians” (his words) (also theirs, but not mine), so they were very lucky to see you. Miss MacLaren said it was a disgrace that they went to Coney Island, but she put on her spectacles and asked a hundred questions. They didn’t tell me, I heard them telling Harriet, they said you were alone with a boy, but I don’t believe them.

  God Bless, your friend, Emmy