In Search of a Memory (Truly Yours Digital Editions)

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In Search of a Memory (Truly Yours Digital Editions) Page 8

by Griffin, Pamela


  Once inside her railcar, she slipped off her pumps and wiggled her toes, lifting hot, swollen feet to the mattress where she half reclined. Cassie wasn’t there yet, and she took the opportunity to pull her valise from beneath the bunk, rummage for the album, and bring it to rest on her pillow. She found the photograph and ran inquisitive fingers over the faded image of the veiled face.

  “Who were you, Mother?” she wistfully asked. “What did you feel… think? Why’d you give me away? Because of your face? Or did you even want me to begin with?”

  A swift thump against the outside wall of the railcar startled her. She shut the book and sat up, almost banging her head on the bunk above. When the door didn’t swing open, revealing Cassie, she grew curious and went to investigate.

  Outside, a man with wild sandy brown hair leaned with one fist against their car. He looked her way, his hazel eyes snapping in anger.

  “Whatta you want?” He pulled his hand from where he’d slammed it, making a clear effort to try to regain control over whatever upset him.

  “I’m Angel. I live here.” She hesitated then stepped down. “I heard a noise.”

  “Angel, is it? Yeah, I heard about you.” He ignored her reference to his action. “I’m one of them who runs the gaming booths—Harvey’s the name. My car’s behind yours.”

  “Oh.” She smiled politely. She knew the car ahead of theirs belonged to Cassie’s parents, briefly wondered where Roland slept, then wondered why she should care.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said quickly, to cover up her flustered state over the thought of Roland so suddenly entering her mind.

  Harvey’s brows sailed up. “You might change your tune in time. I’m told I’m not easy to get along with.” He shook his hand a bit. She noticed the knuckles were red and scraped.

  “We all have our moments. Is your hand all right?”

  He slipped the offended member into his jacket pocket. “Not a thing wrong with it.”

  His tone suggested she was prying, and she prepared to tell him good night, when the crunch of footsteps made her look behind. After all she had experienced with her rescuer rogue, it didn’t surprise her to see her visitor.

  Roland looked from Harvey to Angel. “Am I interrupting?”

  “Just meeting my neighbor.” Angel grew irritated. She’d thought after their last conversation he would stop snooping into her affairs, that they were on their way to relating on good terms. But he obviously hadn’t quit his self-assigned role as her guard.

  Roland looked the man up and down as if he’d like to eliminate him. “Name’s Roland.”

  Harvey crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes. “You’re the new fellow they got to look after the animals.”

  “I am.” It sounded like a challenge.

  “Don’t like animals.”

  “How was your first day?” Angel asked quickly, hoping to defuse a potentially volatile situation.

  Roland’s taut features relaxed a bit as he looked her way. “For someone just learning the ropes, good, I suppose. Mama Philena was a big help. Have you met her yet?”

  “I’ve heard about her.”

  “You’ll like her. She’s a character.” He gave Harvey another once-over before again directing his attention to Angel. “How was your day?”

  “Long, exhausting. I managed.”

  “Well, I’ll just let you two get on with your little chitchat,” Harvey said snidely. “I haven’t the time.” He moved toward his railcar without waiting for a reply.

  “Nice fellow,” Roland said dryly. “A new friend?”

  His tone exasperated her. “What if he is? Are you going to disapprove and tell me I should stay away from him? That he’s too dangerous?”

  “Just asking.”

  She doubted it and tilted her head with suspicion. “Just why are you here, Roland?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You must have come for some reason other than to reveal your displeasure with the company I keep.” She wasn’t really keeping Harvey’s company but didn’t bother to tell him that.

  “Actually, I was heading to my car.” He moved past her.

  “Your car?”

  Her stunned words stopped Roland in his tracks, and he turned to look. “You didn’t think I was bedding down with the animals, did you? As a matter of fact, we’re neighbors, too. My living quarters are next door to your new friend’s.” He tipped his hat. “Good night, Angel. I’ll see you at breakfast.”

  She stood speechless, stunned that her curiosity had been so promptly satisfied. The train wasn’t the longest she’d seen, but she didn’t think he would be so close. It didn’t irritate her, exactly, but it did unsettle her, making her stomach take a sudden sharp dip.

  “Hi, Angel,” Cassie’s voice broke through her thoughts as Angel watched Roland retreat into the second car down from theirs. “What are you doing out here?”

  “Talking to the neighbors.” She noticed Cassie’s puzzled scan of the now-empty area. “Did your stunt work?”

  Cassie scowled. “Papa’s being stubborn and won’t let me try it out on the crowds yet. But I have half a mind to anyway. How was your first day?”

  “Busy. Hardly got a chance to breathe.”

  “Not surprising. The rides are a huge draw.” Cassie grew excited. “Say, I can ask Mahoney to let you work the ticket booth by our tent. That way you could slip in and watch me perform sometime.”

  “That would be great, only…”

  “What?”

  “Can I have a stool in the booth?”

  Cassie laughed. “The ground not so soft on your poor pups?” She cast a glance down to Angel’s stockinged feet as she opened the door of their railcar and swung up.

  Angel followed. “That, and the heels of my pumps. It’s muddy there. If it’s all right with you, I’d like to wear the flats again.”

  “Sure. Keep them.”

  “Thanks.” Angel slid the door on its track to close it but couldn’t resist poking her head out one last time.

  She didn’t really expect Roland to be standing outside, did she?

  Shaking off such silly thoughts and an even sillier twinge of disappointment, she firmly shut the door.

  seven

  As Roland worked, he thought about the grubbiness of his current task. Strange that as menial and dirty as his new job was, he felt cleaner than when he’d dressed to the nines and kept an account of his grandfather’s books, which had been the nicest of his worst assignments.

  “So when are you going to marry the girl?”

  At Mama Philena’s outrageous words, Roland almost dropped the long-handled brush he held. He looked inside the tent toward the nearest stall. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard.” She looked to where he stood outside with Jenny, giving her a bath. “It’s obvious you’re smitten and the two of you have something going on.”

  Somewhere in her sixties, Mama, as the carnies all called her, stood two feet shorter than Roland and had more brass than he’d seen in men twice her size. With her gray ringlets pulled back by a bright ribbon and wearing the most vibrant colors in clothing he’d seen—today’s choice an eye-straining orange and violet—Mama was unique. She had a habit of squinting, as she did now, and Roland wondered if the woman needed corrective glasses as well as an alteration in judgment.

  “I’ve known her three days.”

  “Could have fooled me. I can read people well, son. It’s why I took a job as fortune-teller when I was young, when Mahoney’s papa, my husband, ran the place. I knew nothing about looking into crystal balls and that sort of nonsense—didn’t believe in it then; don’t believe in it now. Just all for show. Gave the air of mystery the customers clamored for. But I could look into a person’s eyes, watch their body language, and read their emotions easy. If they were sad. Happy. Nervous. Figuring out a fortune to match wasn’t hard.”

  “Why’d you quit?”

  “I got convicted.”

  “Convict
ed?” He stopped sweeping the brush along Jenny’s hide.

  Mama finished currying one of the Andalusians. Apparently the owners gave her free rein when it came to their beautiful beasts, unlike Roland, whom they watched as if he might suddenly set their horses’ tails on fire. In the short time he’d been with the carnival, he’d learned that few crossed this feisty woman.

  “A funny thing, that.” She set the brush down on a saw-horse bench, growing pensive. “A few years back, a carny who worked here, she did the convicting. Told me about God and His love. Said a woman once came to see her act and witnessed to her—that was the word she used—’witnessed.’ Funny word.

  “Puts me in mind of someone being sworn in to tell the whole truth and nothing but at a trial. In a sense, I guess that’s what it is. Plenty of people tend to act nervous and strange, like felons, when you tell them of God—much like they do in a courtroom, I expect. She said she wanted to spread His message and do for others what that woman had done for her. Sweet woman but so sad. And not just because of her appearance….” Her words trailed off, as if she relived the moment or realized she’d said too much; Roland couldn’t be sure. “Listen to me, carrying on when we have a full morning’s work! How’s Jenny’s bath coming along?”

  Roland’s attention returned to the baby elephant that had begun to fan her ears and sway her immense body, a sign he’d come to understand as her becoming agitated. “It would help if Jabar was here. I think Jenny wants her master. She doesn’t seem happy with me.”

  Mama let out a little huff of exasperation. “That boy can never seem to be anywhere on time, and having his arm in a sling doesn’t help. Poor dear. We warned him not to climb on top of the train, but he just doesn’t listen, or maybe it’s that his English isn’t good so he didn’t understand. At least the fall only sprained his arm instead of breaking it—or his fool head.”

  Roland had been surprised to learn Jenny’s owner was a ten-year-old Arab orphan whose parents died in a fire. What didn’t surprise him was how Mama coddled him, a nurturing mother hen to an adopted lost chick.

  “Hullo!” a boy’s cheery voice called, and Roland turned to look. His heart jumped a sudden beat at the sight of the two approaching.

  “Speak of the little devil,” Mama murmured affectionately, exiting the tent.

  “I brought pretty lady,” the scamp continued, his black eyes twinkling merrily beneath his white turban at Roland. “She must see you.”

  Angel’s skin flushed deep rose, her eyes flashing to Roland in embarrassment then settling on Mama. “Actually, he got that mixed up. I came to talk to you. Mr. Mahoney said he needs you. He also said you could tell me where to find a stool for the ticket booth.”

  “That boy of mine couldn’t find an elephant in a pup tent,” Mama quipped and patted Jenny’s flank. “Isn’t that right, Jenny?”

  Jenny stood at attention, the snout of her trunk merrily roaming Jabar’s front then curling around his slim hips. He fed her a peanut. “Up, Jenny! Up!” he commanded with a smile.

  The elephant obeyed, lifting her agile owner, who couldn’t have weighed more than Angel’s satchel, high into the air and over her head, while the boy sat perched in the curve of her trunk. As Jenny loosened her trunk from around the boy, he stretched one skinny brown leg over the top of the elephant, nimbly swinging around to sit astride the animal.

  Roland had watched but still couldn’t figure out how the boy did it. Jabar beamed at the two new carnies staring up at him in awed disbelief. Roland shook his head and glanced at Angel. She looked his way, grinning, then shrugged.

  “Jabar, you shouldn’t be showing off any tricks with your arm in that sling,” Mama reprimanded.

  “Jenny not hurt Jabar. Jenny love Jabar.” He leaned forward and patted the elephant’s head.

  “That may be, but that doesn’t have anything to do with—oh, never mind,” she finished in frustration when the boy quirked his head, puzzled, as if unable to follow her words. “Just be careful. We wouldn’t want to put both your arms in slings, now would we?” She turned to Angel. “About that stool. Chester might have a spare. I remember seeing more than one in his tent. Roland, why don’t you go along and carry it for her?”

  “Oh really, that’s not necessary—”

  “I’d be happy to.”

  He looked at Angel as they both answered at once. “That is, if you don’t mind the company.”

  Her lips lifted a fraction, and he felt relieved he had guessed right to give her the choice instead of choosing for her.

  “I suppose not.”

  At her soft response, Mama chuckled and muttered, “Oh no, nothing going on there at all!”

  Roland ignored her smug comment and brought his fingertips to Angel’s elbow long enough to turn her toward Chester’s tent and away from Mama’s suggestive musings.

  “What did she mean?” Angel gave him a sidelong glance as they walked down the midway.

  “Did she say something?”

  “Now Roland.” Her voice took on the tone of an amused scolding. “You know she did.”

  “Sorry. Wasn’t paying much attention, what with—”

  “Hey! Watch out.”

  Startled to hear a childish shriek from near the ground, they looked down. But it wasn’t a child who stood there, though the voice sounded as if it belonged to one. A dwarf woman in her twenties, the blue feather she wore in her hat half her approximate three feet of height, stared up with china blue eyes, her hands balled on her hips. Blond ringlets spilled from beneath her hat to her tiny shoulders.

  “You can say that again—about not paying attention,” she huffed. “You two trying to mow a person down?”

  “Sorry!” Angel said. “We didn’t see you. That is, I mean…” She blushed furiously at her thoughtless words, but the woman only chuckled and lowered her hands.

  “That’s all right, honey. I expect if I were ten feet tall, you wouldn’t have seen me either, not with the way you two were staring at each other. So, you two are the new carnies I’ve been hearing so much about. Coming here together and pretending not to know one another?”

  “Oh, but we didn’t! It wasn’t how it looked—”

  “I got eyes.” The woman interrupted Angel’s flustered remark and winked. “My name’s Posey.” She struck up her hand. “As in pretty as a posy. That’s what my sweetheart says.” She smiled shyly, revealing two dimples.

  “I’m Angel.” She bent down to take the offered hand. The woman gave Angel’s a swift shake then turned to Roland, doing the same as he introduced himself.

  “Just don’t let Mahoney know there’s anything going on between you two, you being so new here and all. He’s still upset Germaine and Lionel left him high and dry.”

  “But really, we’re not together—”

  Posey looked beyond them. “Oh, there’s my sweetheart now!” She smiled. “Would you like to meet him?”

  “Of course,” Roland inserted, aware of Angel’s distress over the misconception of their relationship.

  A young man no taller than Posey, with dark red hair and blue eyes, came up beside her. “How’s my darlin’ Posey today?” he asked, an Irish lilt to his accent. He gave her a kiss on her dimpled cheek. Suddenly shy, she clutched her hand in her skirts and batted her lashes.

  “Oh Darrin. These are the new carnies. Angel and Roland.”

  “You two married?” Darrin asked.

  Angel gasped in outright shock, and again Roland answered. “Just friends.” She didn’t correct him, and he felt thankful that maybe he wasn’t assuming too much to say so.

  “That’s how me and Darrin started off,” Posey said, dreamily looking into his eyes. “We fought like cats and dogs at first, always snapping at each other, but one day something just clicked. We’re getting married two weeks from now.” She directed her happy gaze up to Angel. “You’ll come to the wedding, won’t you?”

  Roland didn’t miss Darrin’s sharp look at Posey.

  “I’d love to.” A
ngel found her voice.

  “I would, too.” Roland felt Angel glance at him then away again.

  “Oh good!” Posey beamed.

  “But I’m surprised Mr. Mahoney will allow it,” Angel said, “after all I’ve heard about his view on carnies getting involved.”

 

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