by The Lady
“I have five brothers and sisters.”
His eyes shone at that.
“It was a full house and I loved it. I miss them.”
“I’m sure they miss you. You came here to be a nurse?”
She leaned her back against the ledge of his wagon. “Someone was always falling down and scraping something or bruising something and they would come to me.” She would draw them close, set them on the kitchen table by the sunny window, and tend their hurts. A kiss, a few words of comfort, and they’d be back on their way—out into the mountain air. She told him as much, and he listened as he dragged a basket back to where he was sitting. He set about folding clean diapers and small blankets. Ella helped him.
“So it’s just you here. All alone.”
She nodded.
“I’m really sorry about your job, Ella. I can’t help thinking you’d still be there if it weren’t for us.”
The light in the tent grew dimmer; the sun surely dipping behind the distant buildings with early evening. “Don’t worry.” She attempted one of his signature winks. “It was quite thrilling to quit. I’ve never done anything so irrational.”
“I’m a bad influence.” Then his eyes shot wide. “Oh!” He stomped up the crates, vanished into his wagon, and returned with a billfold. He pulled out several bills and handed them over. “For you. Thank you.”
“I don’t want it.”
He held it closer. “Please. You’ve done so much. And all those items you brought. More teas…the ice…” He regarded her with clear insistence. “None of it was free.”
She tucked her hands in her lap. “Please put your money away.”
He seemed displeased and looked about to speak when a little shriek pierced the air. They both looked to Holland’s bed. She was sitting upright, blue eyes bright, a smile on her round face. Charlie rose and picked her up. He nuzzled her neck and she dissolved into giggles. Then he plopped the baby in Ella’s grasp and she gratefully accepted the squishy, warm bundle.
Regina made tea and Holland was soon crawling into every corner of the tent. Charlie snatched her back each time. Some sort of game. Except for when she crawled too close to the potbelly stove. He plucked her up, scolded gently, and as Holland’s chin wobbled, he kissed her forehead and rubbed a hand across her curls. The baby was soon distracted with the bread Ella had brought. The dinner hour flew by as they picnicked on thick, warm slices as well as the hot tea Regina fixed.
The sky was black now, tent sides rustling. A lantern bobbed past the canvas and Charlie was peering out as if his mind had drifted into the dark.
“Charlie.” Regina reached up to touch his waist. “It’s almost time, my dear.”
After a moment, he spoke as if he’d been holding the words on his tongue. “Ella, I have to go soon and do another show.” He turned and stepped toward the middle of the tent. “I’m going to be a little while and I don’t want you to go home alone in the dark.” His eyes seemed troubled. “Would you mind waiting and I can walk you when I’m finished? Or else I could find someone to accompany you. There are some good people here.”
So serious was his expression that a reply lodged in her throat. “Of…of course. I don’t mind waiting. I’d like to—I could go with you. I’ve been wanting to see this show—”
The jar Regina had been holding thudded to the grassy floor. The stout woman bent for it, scrutiny drifting to Charlie.
He gripped the back of his neck. “Um, this one’s not much to see. I, uh…” He paced to the far side of the tent and knelt to shuffle through a small crate. His back still to Ella, he turned his head to the side as he spoke. “Why don’t you keep company with Holland and I promise that I’ll bring you both a surprise.” Swiveling on his knee, he looked at her.
“A surprise.” Ella said it with marked curiosity, hoping to set him at ease. Something was wrong and she didn’t know what it was. “I’ll wait here. But is…everything all right?”
He nodded gently. “Thank you, Ella.”
Rising, he stepped back to his wagon and gathered a pair of brown pants, the tin, and a slip top shirt. One she’d never seen him wear. She couldn’t imagine him in anything but his usual garb—snug collar, buttoned sleeves. He set the pile by the tent flap and seemed about to leave, then he returned to where Ella and Holland were sitting. He bent and kissed the baby’s hair, lingering, eyes closed.
When he turned, he stunned Ella by running his knuckles down the side of her arm, finishing with a squeeze of her hand. His touch sent a jolt of longing straight through her.
“Thank you for being so good to Holland,” he whispered. “And to me.” The last words felt added on—as if he didn’t want to say them.
As if he was certain he didn’t deserve them.
__________
With night crickets chirping all about, Ella’s hands moved beside Holland’s as they built a little tower of blocks. Ella took care to give it a strong base, thinking it would last longer, and Holland took care to prove that it was much more fun to knock it down. Over and over. Laughing, Ella stacked the blocks again, and with a squeal of delight, Holland pushed it over. She clapped pudgy, dimpled hands. Her round cheeks worked as she sucked a piece of licorice drop.
After leaving them to their game a little longer, Regina finally scooped Holland up with a sorrowful declaration of bedtime. She set about changing her and Ella rose. The laundry basket was still on the edge of Charlie’s wagon, and thinking to help, Ella pulled out one of the last blankets. She glanced around at Charlie’s sleeping space. His things were scattered about—in a way that hinted at organization, but there was a calamity there and she knew how he could rush about so.
“Doesn’t he ever make his bed?” Ella asked, amused.
Regina’s countenance was bright. “He’s lazy because of the curtain. And I…” she held up her small hands, “do not go in there. I fear if I did, I would never come out alive.”
At muted footsteps in the grass, Ella turned. The tent flap moved aside and Charlie ducked through. His wet hair suggested a recent wash up, green eyes unlike she’d ever seen. He glanced around—his expression empty, vacant.
Regina moved to his side and traded a dark cloak for a cup of coffee. She patted his arm and gave him a tender smile. It seemed to jar him, because then he was thanking her and taking Holland back. With the baby pressed to his chest, he sat on the rug and leaned against the box bed. Quietly, Ella sat beside him.
“I owe you both a surprise.” He cast Ella an apologetic look and she shook her head.
Letting his eyes close, Charlie inhaled slowly. Holland lay against him, still and quiet. Her blonde curls brushed his chin.
“Did you know,” he said softly as if they’d been in conversation all night, “that a few years back I almost left the circus?” He propped the coffee cup on his knee.
“Where did you want to go?”
He stared down at the dark brew in his hands. “I wanted to be a farmer.”
“A farmer.”
He turned the cup to hold the handle and took a sip. “There’s something very steady about farming, no?”
She thought on that a moment, wondering if there might be more to the story. “It would be a very different life for you.”
“Yes.” The muted plodding of a horse and owner moved past the tent, fading into silence. “But I can’t keep Holland with me unless she becomes part of the company. Either as a worker of some kind—a costume mistress like Regina—or a performer like the rest of my family was. Otherwise, I would have to find a place to put her and I just don’t think I could do that.”
“Truly?”
He nodded. “Some of the performers leave their children to be raised by relatives to go to school and have a normal life. Visiting them when they can. The strong man has three sons that live with his wife in Tennessee. He sends them every dollar he makes. It’s sad, but it’s the way it is. It’s the rules—no one can stay unless they serve a purpose. Chances are, Holland will love to perfor
m, but is that the best life for her? The one she’d want? I just don’t know.”
Ella could nearly feel the burden it placed on him.
“And for the lions. Some of the animals around here will get a long and peaceful retirement, but some won’t. In a few years, Axel will begin to show his age and they won’t allow him in the spotlight anymore. He’ll be replaced by a younger cat and that’s the way of it. If I have the power to give him and the others a restful end of their lives, I will.” He smiled sadly. “There are very few places that would take a lion in its retirement. There may be a zoo gracious enough, but I’d rather carve out a home where they can live out their days without being on display. Even then, some lions face a much swifter, much more profitable end.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“It’s just the way of it.” Fingertips to his forehead, Charlie rubbed them back and forth as if to wipe away memories. “My father had no say in his lions’ futures, and because wealthy hunters were willing to pay a few thousand dollars apiece, some became trophies.”
Ella fought to contain her shock.
One of Charlie’s hands slid slowly up and down Holland’s small back. “My father found a way to do something about that and so I’ve tried to follow in his footsteps. I want my boys to know life in a meadow or a field. The sunshine. Because of that, about a year ago, I bought all three of them outright. Paid their head price.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that they’re mine now. And they won’t die for a rich man’s sport.” Eyes down, his expression went thoughtful. “I want them to be fat and happy and old when the good Lord is ready to take them. So I have a bad habit of burning through my bank accounts. And I don’t mean too many trips to the haberdasher.” He made the motion of putting on an invisible top hat, then smiled gently. “Though that has been a problem in the past.”
Ella thought of him that day at Dr. Penske’s with mere coins left in his pocket.
“So instead of having the funds to buy a house somewhere, I have a bunch of cats.” Though his words were laced with humor, Ella could see—feel, really—that he wouldn’t trade that for anything. She was so proud of him for that. When Holland sighed, small shoulders rising and falling, Charlie kissed the top of her tiny head.
“My papa is a farmer,” Ella said.
He looked over at her which made sitting beside him suddenly feel very close. “Is he?”
She nodded.
“I would like to meet him one day.”
One day. There would be no one day. And as she looked at him, had to remind herself of that.
His expression shifted—holding something back. He gave her a mischievous smile. “So…that…we could talk about what a troublesome little creature you are.”
She elbowed him. But a thrill went through her at the thought of him and her papa sitting. Talking. Charlie not vanishing from her life. “And now. Do you want to be in the circus?”
He looked down at his coffee again. “Sometimes not. Then other times I can’t imagine doing anything else.” He pulled his knee up and rested his forearm there. His gaze dipped to her mouth then back to her eyes. “No matter what, the lions…they need me, you know?”
Yes, she knew that need.
Hand to the rug, she shifted forward. Her fingers brushed his and she slid them away, hoping he might not have noticed.
A peek showed that his eyes were open. Staring. Almost searching for something to say.
“How many more days until you leave?” she asked.
“With the roads still drying and wagon repairs, probably three.”
The number did something painful to her heart.
“The hostlers have already left to adjust the next round of billing. What are you doing tomorrow?”
Sometimes he spoke in a way that made her dizzy. She was beginning to wonder if that was on purpose. “I’ll probably try to find work again. I haven’t had any luck yet and was thinking of going back to the hospital. They may take me as a laundress.” If she was fortunate.
His brow dipped.
She felt humbled by the confession, but there it was.
“Tomorrow’s Saturday, so I’ll have some shows, and then Sunday…” He rubbed at the callouses on his palm. “We have church in the morning, here. Would you…” He rubbed at his other hand. “Would you like to come?”
She shook her head. “No, thank you.”
He sat quiet for a while. “There are some people I would like you to meet. And who I would like to meet you. If you should change your mind, we start about nine. You could sit on the bed with Holland.” Forming fists, he set them on his knees. “I understand that you probably don’t want to come and that’s okay.” He looked at her again. “Truly, I understand. I just want you to know that you’re welcome.”
“I’ll think about it.” She said it for his benefit.
When he flicked a glance to her, he seemed to know as much. “If you have any time tomorrow instead, in the afternoon, I would love to introduce you. You don’t have to come or meet them, but just if you’re free and would like to.”
She nodded thoughtfully, wondering why he would want to introduce her to people who would never see her again. Sitting here—next to him—the notion made her throat tight.
“I hope your job search goes well.”
“Thank you,” she said in a small voice. “I do too.” She smoothed the hem of her dress against her ankle then looked around, realizing that Regina was preparing for bed. “I should get home.”
He stood and moved toward the flap. “I’ll go fetch Angelina.”
“It—it’s not necessary. Truly.”
“I want to.” He said it with such sincerity that she rose slowly, bid goodnight to Regina, and followed Charlie out into the night.
C H A P T E R 1 4
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Dressed in her white chiffon blouse and a simple taupe skirt, Ella stood in the entrance of the steamy basement. Several laundresses worked with quick, red hands. Fingers clasped together, Ella tried to swallow her nerves as she waited for the head laundress to consult Dr. Penske, for only moments ago, Ella had asked if there might be a position available.
The soaking tub billowed steam as a woman sprinkled in washing soda. Another tub let off the scent of quicklime, and Ella could recount every ratio and usage for the bottles and boxes lining the shelves beside the great wringer. Yet her boots felt like they were standing on thin ice and not the thick, slabbed floor.
More so when the head laundress returned. “I’m sorry, Miss Beckley. We just don’t have need of another laundress.”
Ella let those words fall into place knowing full well that they were just. She had walked out on the doctor when he’d told her not to. She searched her heart for a dash of regret and finding none, simply nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”
The basement felt a long distance from the third-floor children’s ward, but the memory of all that passed there was suddenly quite fresh. Letting herself out, she peered up the flight of stairs, remembering how Charlie had nearly crashed into her on that top landing.
Ella headed out and in the direction of her apartment, but an afternoon at home felt more like a weight than a blessing.
There was nothing left to clean in their apartment and no book could distract from the fact that it was time to pen a letter home. Tell her parents that she’d quit her job and ask for the funds to make rent. Or better yet, to simply buy a train ticket back to Clifton Forge, just a few miles from her parents’ farm. This city was feeling less and less like home. Worse yet, it was about to lose the very ones she ached to keep.
And she had been alone for so many years. She hadn’t realized just how much she missed family, until she saw all that Charlie and Holland and Regina were.
As she walked, Ella weighed her options. She could stick it out, which could prove fruitful. Ask Margaret to cover her for another month while she continued her search. Earlier that morning, Ella had inquired at the newspaper of
fice but lacked the typing skills to be considered. Now she decided to walk a few blocks and see what she could find. One of the photography shops advertised for a clerk. Ella ducked in, but upon speaking with the owner, learned that they were looking for a young lad who could work for a low wage and make quick errands.
It was all she could do to smile and nod before leaving.
She hurried past a saloon, and the other businesses on this street looked just as comforting.
When she veered onto Commerce Street, Ella peered across to where three women were gathered. They looked weary—perhaps having just finished a night shift of some kind. Their dresses were plain and stained. They chattered away to one another before one bid farewell and started down the road. Perhaps heading to Brick Row, two blocks away. It hadn’t slipped Ella’s mind that such a living may end up as her only option. She couldn’t expect Margaret to carry her weight, and while the housing in Brick Row was surely cheap, Ella feared the dangers that part of town held.
Was it a move worth looking into?
She didn’t think so. Not when she had a mother and father she missed desperately. Siblings who she ached to see again. Ella swallowed the bitter taste of regret. Loneliness.
Angling towards home, she hurried across the road toward Campbell Street and tried not to think of what it would be like to have a little family of her own. Somewhere in a quaint house far from the bustle of the city. The picture included a man with golden-brown skin and pale green eyes. A sweet-cheeked baby sitting in the center of their bed, a stuffed tiger in her chubby grasp.
Ella slowed to a stop, pressed fingertips to her forehead, and closed her eyes.
“Some lettuce for ya, miss?”
Startling, Ella looked over to realize she’d stopped in front of the grocer’s.
“Oh, no, thank you.” She had exactly thirteen dollars to her name, so fresh salad was most definitely not on the menu. Ten of those dollars would cover this month’s rent and the other three would see her through another few weeks of necessities. Coal, milk, and groceries. And then…she had no idea.
