“I love the carousel,” she said wistfully then laughed, placing a hand to her flat stomach. “But right now I don’t think I could stand anything in motion.”
They continued down the midway and ran into Blackie and Ruth selling balloons. Blackie gave Angel a blue one, refusing to take her penny, and the clownish duo went into one of their performances, drawing a crowd. Angel laughed so hard Roland noted tears coming out of her eyes. Afterward Blackie passed around a hat that several threw coins into, and Roland did as well. It had been worth the dime, and more, to see Angel happy.
A trip to the crazy house of mirrors and a sack of peanuts shared rounded out their fun, when suddenly Angel stopped, as though frozen.
“Angel?”
She stared, and Roland followed her line of vision. His heart clenched as he recalled the day they had stood before this tent and she’d behaved in the same manner. The human Freak Show, the banner above proclaimed.
The whole spectacle disgusted him. The way these people were treated reminded him of his grandfather’s cold manipulation over others and their inability to break free, acting as marionettes to his callous whims. Roland knew Angel had befriended the people there, and he put a hand to her elbow. “Come on, Angel. We don’t have to see this.”
“No.” A determined expression crossed her face. “I need to.”
twelve
Angel knew her reply surprised Roland, but she had to see, had to know. She couldn’t understand her desire, but neither could she quench it.
“Step right up, and see the most amazing creatures to walk the face of the planet. That’s right, folks, we’re going to bring them out here, all for free, just to let you get a peek. Watch the entranceway for the amazing Siamese Twins, the Leprechaun Couple, the Illustrated Man, and that’s not all….” The barker paced the stage, his energy and ballyhoo swiftly bringing in a crowd.
“That’s Tucker.” Chester’s voice became grim. “A seedy fellow. I’ve had dealings with that man. Trust me when I say to steer clear of him.”
Angel had also had dealings with Tucker, none of them pleasant. When she brought Posey and the others their meals, he had tried to rush her off. The first time, she submitted. But his maltreatment of her friends ignited a righteous anger that burned deep, and the next time, she refused to leave, ignoring the ill-mannered beast to stay and talk with the other women and help, usually by stitching up tears or sewing on buttons for any of the performers who needed it. Tucker soon realized she wasn’t the hindrance he thought and allowed her to stay. Angel would have done so without his gruff permission.
“Why do they let him do that to them?” she asked sadly as he spun his thoroughly demeaning ballyhoo for Rita and Rosa, making them sound more like monsters than people, and the two women stepped out of the tent on cue. “Why? It’s just not right!”
Chester shook his head; he had no answer. Roland’s eyes filled with sympathetic concern as he regarded Angel. His hand still at her elbow, his thumb caressed her arm through her sleeve. His gesture warmed her, and she sensed he understood her heartache. Yet even he couldn’t begin to comprehend the extent of it.
Was this how her mother had been treated? Forced to stand on a platform as a “peculiar specimen of nature” and made to endure belittling remarks from a crass talker, who poked and prodded, while an insensitive crowd gawked as if she were something less than human? How could she have borne such humiliation, night after night?
Angel’s eyes brimmed with hot tears.
She’d known the sting of scorn and embarrassment from her aunt and cousins, but this was much worse. Perhaps at times her rebellious tendencies invited their nasty behavior. But these people, these friends, had done nothing to warrant such ridicule! Rita and Rosa had been born into a life of poverty. Their parents, had they wanted the twins, couldn’t have afforded an operation to separate them. Why were life and people so cruel? How could Mama allow such a thing to go on at her carnival? How could her own mama have had any spirit left to go on living, especially after her attacker defiled her in the most vicious of ways….
“Angel?”
A tear followed by another rolled down her cheek. She heard Roland’s sharp intake of breath and felt him gather her close, his strong arm around her shoulders, protective and warm. Grateful as she was for his consideration, she felt numb and frozen.
How easily she might have been one of them, up on that platform, raped of all self-worth in the cruel and careless spiel of a barker’s belittling words. And yet, she was one of them. Her face and form may have escaped physical imperfection, but in her soul she’d struggled with the contempt of others her entire life. By the bond of blood in being her mother’s child, she identified with Rosa and Rita and others like them more than she did with those who stood on the opposite side and rudely gaped. She felt so utterly alone.
“That’s called building the tip—the crowd,” Chester said solemnly. “Next, he’ll turn the tip, with a ballyhoo to send them running to buy tickets to see more.”
“Let’s get out of here.” Roland moved to draw her away, his arm still around her, but she resisted his gentle pull.
She needed to remain through all of this until the crowd went inside for more, needed to experience what her mother had lived. In that way she hoped to begin to understand the heart of the woman who’d given away her child.
“I’m staying.” She glanced up. In Roland’s eyes she spotted the strength and support she so desperately craved. Not once in his expression had she seen any sign of curious revulsion, apparent on every other face looking toward that awful tent platform.
“Please stay with me?” Her soft request was unnecessary; she knew he wouldn’t leave her. But she needed to hear his answer.
“I’m not going anywhere.” His firm response warmed her cold insides, while making her shiver with uncertainty, for it implied so much more than the here and now, something she wasn’t sure she could ever handle. “I’m here for you, Angel.”
She nodded in gratitude, casting aside all doubt and logic, and her heart clung to his promise.
In one night everything changed.
Roland wasn’t sure what to make of the changes in Angel, but he hoped they would last. Aside from the few kisses he’d been unable to refrain from, he’d made no overtures to a close relationship. And though her nervousness when near him didn’t vanish completely, she was nowhere near as jumpy as she’d been their first week together.
But that wasn’t what amazed him.
Over the weeks that followed their little carnival participation with Chester, Roland had watched Angel begin to blossom, seeming to find peace within. The carnies all loved her, women and men both, to his chagrin. With selfish gratitude he watched her gently turn down interest after romantic interest, and his heart surged with hope when she didn’t refuse his own tender advances of affection. Inwardly that affection grew in strength each day.
Though the two recent weddings sparked a desire he’d never had, the sparkle left her eyes and sadness settled there after first Posey then Cassie tied the knot with their fellows. He assumed Angel missed her bunk mate and felt lonely for companionship. Roland was only too happy to act as a stand-in.
He had never seriously considered marriage until Chester’s wisecrack. Since then it seemed to be all he thought about. Regardless of the fact that he was hiding from his mobster family and trying to carve a new life, one in which he’d found, to his surprise, satisfaction and the same peace Angel had, he’d never planned to live out the rest of his days in bachelorhood. When the time was right and he felt assured he could keep her safe, he wanted a wife. And he was fairly certain he knew her identity.
During a night in Kent, once the fairgrounds closed to visitors and the nightly chores were done, Roland approached Angel at the ticket booth.
“Take a walk with me?”
Angel’s face brightened. She closed up the strongbox, locking it. “I just need to drop this off at Pearson’s car first.”
They took the night’s earnings to the disgruntled man, who never once looked up from his account book and barely paid them a moment’s notice, mumbling something that could have been good night or get lost to their parting words.
Roland shrugged as they walked away, and she giggled. He took her hand in his as he’d done often lately, since the night of “the change.” She offered no resistance.
“You look like you had a good day.” He appreciated how the silver moonlight brought out a cool sheen to her hair when they weren’t walking near the incandescent yellow bulbs of carnival lights, which conversely brought out touches of silky red warmth.
“I did. Cassie went with me at lunchtime when I delivered meals to Posey and the others. We all had a lovely talk.” She grew pensive as she focused on something in the distance. “I finally had the chance to talk to Mama again, in private. I asked her why she had such a degrading show at her carnival. Even if all the other carnivals have them, it still didn’t seem like she would, as caring and sensitive as she is.”
When it didn’t appear as if she would continue, Roland prodded, “What did she say?”
“She doesn’t like it either. But she said at least here she can visit them, treat them with kindness and respect, help them out—something they might not get with another carnival. Tucker doesn’t care about them, to see to their needs.” Angel frowned at that. “She did tell me it was their choice to be in the show; apparently she asked each of them in private when they first joined the carnival, telling Tucker she would never condone any form of slavery if he held them against their will. Sadly they were all here because of choice, feeling that’s all life has to offer them. Mama says she hopes by giving her friendship and prayers she can help make a difference. She has a very soft spot in her heart for those who work in that tent. One of the previous performers was a woman who led her down the path to find God, and she owes everything to that woman.”
Roland nodded, recalling when Mama had told him the same thing.
“How do you feel about them? You never did say.”
Her question came quiet, but Roland got the distinct impression a lot hinged on his response. “I never really gave it much thought. You’re asking, what? Do I think them freaks of nature? Am I disgusted by their appearance?”
She tentatively nodded.
“The answer is no. Especially not after getting to know Jim, probably one of the smartest men I’ve ever met. His knowledge of the classic literary works is incredible. Did you know he’s memorized every work of Shakespeare? Still, I can’t help but feel curious about how they got that way and pity them for how they’re treated.”
His sincerity brought a faint smile from her. “Jim and I were discussing Romeo and Juliet several weeks ago. He recited parts of it for me.”
At her odd words and the even odder note in her voice, he looked at her. “Oh?”
“It’s a very sad story.” She sighed. “Two people in love but with everything going against them.”
They approached the carousel. The horses no longer revolved, the customers gone for the day, but bright lights from within the dais bounced off its huge, mirrored column. Lively calliope music played from a door within.
She looked at the gilded horses, her face alight with wonder. “I’ve always loved the merry-go-round….” She stopped suddenly, focused.
“Angel?” His fingers went to her chin, bringing her eyes to meet his.
“It’s nothing. A memory that’s gone before it even begins.” She gave a nervous laugh and shrugged. “So what’s your favorite thing about the carnival?”
Wishing to erase every hurtful memory she’d ever suffered, he looked into her beautiful wide eyes that shone like blue midnight in the dark evening. The feelings he’d cautiously pushed aside for weeks rose to fill his heart.
“You.”
At his whisper, her lips parted in surprise, and he leaned in to her, his mouth taking in their soft warmth. He cupped her face, slowly brushing his lips over hers more than once, unable to resist her sweetness. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and she breathed a sigh of delight, which enticed him to press closer and deepen the kiss, giving in to his desire to love her….
Her legs soon gave way. He lowered his arms around her back, pulling her firmly against his body to steady her. It took every bit of willpower for him to finally break free from her delicious mouth and let her go.
She wobbled a step. His hands reached out to support her. She blinked up at him, unfocused, her breathing as rapid as his. He had not meant to take their kiss so far, and he winced at the trace of anxiety he saw beneath the longing in her eyes.
“Angel, you must know you mean the world to me.” He brushed her hair from her temple. “I want this—us—to have a relationship like Chester and Cassie have. Like Posey and Darrin—”
“M–m–marriage?”
He saw the thought terrified her and dropped his hands away from her, working to get his emotions under control. What was wrong with him? He was rushing this, ruining everything.
“One day maybe. If you want it.” He swallowed hard, fighting the impulse to kiss her again, gently this time, to hold her close to his heart and eliminate whatever doubts were running through her lovely head. “I want us to be more than friends,” he finished lamely.
Her eyes, if wide before, grew enormous. She backed up a step.
“Th–this is so s–sudden. I… have to go. I need time to… to think.”
“Angel…”
“No, don’t.” She shook her head, backing up another step. “Please, Roland. Not right now. I…” With a pained expression, she whirled around and hurried away.
Not right now. Not ever!
She moved without really seeing, anxious to reach her railcar.
“Angel?”
Blinking hot moisture from her eyes, she noticed Cassie and Chester strolling arm in arm. She couldn’t form a greeting, afraid it would come out as a sob.
“Angel, what’s wrong?”
She shook her head and walked faster. Within moments she felt Cassie’s arm around her waist—glad for the support, wishing to be alone, wondering why Roland didn’t follow, relieved and disappointed he hadn’t.
Heaven help her, she was a mess.
He had never, never kissed her like that! And while her heart had raced with the desire for more, was still racing, her mind callously scolded her for letting it come to this.
Once he found out the truth, once he knew…
He could never know.
“There now,” Cassie said as she stepped up with Angel into the railcar, “tell me what happened. Did you have a fight with Roland?”
Angel laughed without humor. So far from a vocal fight yet a powerful confrontation that destroyed all hope. She looked at her dear friend, wishing she could tell her everything but feeling unable to. She cried harder.
Cassie pulled her close, holding and rocking her as if she were a child. Angel brushed her tears away with resolve. She never cried. But then, little in her life had mattered so much.
“I have to leave the carnival.”
“What?” Cassie’s eyes rounded in distress. “Why?”
“I can’t explain. I just… I have to go.” She gulped down another sob. “I’ll go back to searching for my mother. It was one of the reasons I left my aunt’s in the first place.”
A calm but determined expression crossed Cassie’s face.
“Angel, about that…”
“I’ve earned enough so I won’t have to do what I did before. Did I tell you?” She forced a laugh. “I stowed aboard a train. That’s how R–Roland and I met.” She couldn’t even say his name without stumbling over it.
“Angel…”
“It’s for the best. I know it is.” It had to be.
“Angel, I know where your mother is.”
thirteen
Angel stared, unseeing. Her mind went numb with shock.
Cassie’s skin flooded with shamed color. “I didn’t tell you at first, b
ecause… well, honestly, I didn’t know if I could trust you. Lila’s been hurt by so many. And I thought you were one of them who hurt her before.”
Angel remembered to breathe. “She worked here?”
Cassie nodded. “I didn’t know her well, but she was so sweet, and I…” Her gaze shifted to her lap. “I’m sorry. When it seemed you’d found happiness with us, I thought it best just to leave things be. But I know you now. You really care. You don’t like seeing them hurt. I was only trying to protect her from that possibility.”
Angel’s initial anger at her friend’s deception faded in the glow of hope that she knew her mother. “Where is she?”
“I don’t know. I’m sorry, I really don’t.”
In Search of a Memory (Truly Yours Digital Editions) Page 14
