“Careful, you two,” Abby says with a smile. “You don’t want to get too far in.”
“We’re mermaids. It doesn’t matter how far in we go,” Annette says matter-of-factly, and Abby has to laugh. She can’t stop herself.
Back on the grass, Natale has finished setting up the picnic and is trying to corral Leon and Joseph away from their stick-based swordfight and back to the table. Nonna sits and watches this exchange with an amused expression.
“Lunch is ready, girls,” Abby says, handing towels to both of them and leading them back to the spread of antipasti and sandwiches. Nonna helps prepare the plates when they finally all convene. The six of them wait before digging in as Nonna crosses herself and says a silent prayer.
“What do you pray for, Nonna?” Joseph asks.
Both Abby and Natale’s eyes widen as they shush him.
Nonna just smiles. “That someday, all of my grandchildren will be happy and smiling and that all of their dreams will come true, even if it is in ways that they do not expect.”
The summer air is warm even this close to the lake, and Abby smiles, trying to hold on to the happiness of this moment for rest of her life.
Epilogue
~LATE JULY, 1958. CLEVELAND, OHIO fairgrounds.~
THE BANNER STRUNG BETWEEN TWO poles near the brand-new, above-ground swimming pool read, “Real! Singing Sirens! Alive!” with two dark-haired cartoon mermaids, one with a red tail, the other with a blue one, painted on either side of the words. Abby liked the sign, though she hadn’t expected to. She didn’t exactly have top billing. Her name wasn’t anywhere on it. In fact, her name wasn’t anywhere associated with the show. Still, something in those three exclamation points, which proclaimed to all the world that she was a real, living being, put a huge grin on her face.
“Did you see the new sign?” Ruth asked as Abby slipped into the dressing tent. She was already dressed in her navy bathing suit, which was styled after Esther Williams’s and grinning from ear to ear. It looked as though she had tried to tame her curls, but had given up, letting them fly about. Abby had assured her numerous times that this looked more appropriate for the mermaids they were playing.
“I like it,” Abby answered, sitting down at the vanity to touch up her supposedly waterproof makeup. “They almost look like us.”
“Well, that might be a little bit of a stretch, but I do think it’s very nice.”
“Knock, knock,” Constance’s voice called from outside.
“We’re decent!” Abby called back.
“Pity,” Suprema said, as she pulled back the canvas and she and Constance came inside.
Abby laughed. They embraced briefly before Abby pulled back, beaming. “Did you see the sign? I’m on a sign!”
Suprema and Constance exchanged amused expressions, and then nodded. “Our little girls, all grown up and getting their own sign!” the two of them teased in one voice. It was clear that they had rehearsed this line, knowing that either Abby or Ruth or both would gush about the new sign.
Ruth and Abby shook their heads. They had been expecting such a reaction. Ruth took her sequined tail out of its case. “You should hurry up, Abby,” she said. “We’re on in ten minutes.” Then she linked her arm through Constance’s and the pair disappeared from the tent.
Nodding, Abby took a long deep breath. She hadn’t been nervous about the act until just now. She knew the routine inside and out. She and Ruth had been practicing for months. Still, an old, unnamed terror gripped her stomach.
Suprema touched her arm. “Don’t be nervous,” she whispered.
“Nervous,” Abby said, trying to make the word sound ridiculous and failing. “When did I ever say I was nervous? Why would I be nervous?”
“It’s written all over every inch of you.”
Abby didn’t have any answer for that. Instead, she closed her eyes and held tight to Suprema, breathing in the kettle-corn smell of her.
“I’ll be out there, cheering you on. We all will,” Suprema said, stroking her hair. “But you don’t need it. You’re going to be the biggest hit we’ve had in years.”
Abby couldn’t help the blush that developed at those words, but she didn’t try to hide it. She turned to look up into Suprema’s eyes. They held each other’s gaze for a just a moment before she stood on her tiptoes and reached up for a kiss.
“SING ‘MAMBO ITALIANO’,” A VOICE called out from the audience as the singing sirens finished their rendition of “Beyond the Sea.”
“No, no! ‘Baciami’!” called another.
Ruth raised an eyebrow. “I assume you know them?” She moved her feet a little, flicking the fake tail so that water splashed out. Not enough to hit anyone in the crowd, but enough to make them laugh and gasp.
Abby glanced at the crowd and, sure enough, saw Sal and Roman squeezed into the front row with Natale and the rest of her siblings and her father. She beamed at all of them, and they broke into thunderous applause for her. She was still shocked to see her father out and about. Natale had reported that since Christmas, when the whole family made the trek to Nashville by train, he’d been appearing in public more and more, but it remained hard for Abby to believe.
“I don’t think I know those songs,” she said, feigning innocence and confusion. “But I do have one I think that you’ll love.”
Behind the pool, Vinnie began to play his accordion. Abby breathed deeply, allowing her eyes to linger on each one of her family members: Annette, squirming at the very edge of the row; Carla, currently sharing her chair with Phebe; Joseph, kicking his feet in anticipation; Leon, whose arms were crossed as though he didn’t want to be at something so childish, but whose smiling eyes gave him away; her father, wide awake, smiling, and aware; and finally Della, who rested her head on Natale’s shoulder. The pair of them smiled as well. Della raised her hand to show off the small ring on her finger, and Abby couldn’t help herself. She laughed. Natale did as well, his eyes alight. Abby’s heart surged with happiness for him, and she hoped his did for her as well. She only knew one way to say it. She began to sing the folk song that had changed her life, and before she knew it, all of them were singing along.
This time, just after sunset, was still Abby’s favorite part of the day. The lights of the carnival midway were just beginning to flicker to life, shrouding the already entertaining world in a glow of mystery and enchantment. The carnival wasn’t a cocoon as the diner had been. People could still get hurt by the carnival. A heart could still break at the carnival. Yet no matter how hard she had once fought it, her heart was here. Looking out over the crowd, she could see, in the very back, that same astonishing, pretty, chiseled face that she had seen her first night. In the arms of the strongwoman in the leopard-print suit—that was where she could truly find herself, safe.
Acknowledgments
FIRST AND FOREMOST, I NEED to thank my family. It would take far too long to thank each of them individually as I have been blessed with a very large, diverse, and supportive extended family, but thank you all. Thank you for being open with me about your lives and your hearts. Thank you for indulging and supporting my dream of being a storyteller and never wavering in your faith in me. Every one of you means more to me than you can possibly imagine or even vaguely realize.
To the team at Interlude Press for getting this book out to the world and for your commitment to seeing the diversification of literature in general.
To Mark, who patiently reads my drafts, talks me through my frustrations, and keeps me grounded.
To Rachel, who has known me longer than anyone outside my family and because this really is all your fault. I hope you know that.
To Elizabeth, my lovely beta reader, thank you for all your constructive (and highly witty) feedback. Every writer needs someone like you to fall back on.
And, of course, this book would be nowhere without the amazing archivists, librarians, authors, historians, and museum curators who helped facilitate my research and writing and who helped me take recollections and e
xpand them into a reality, and to explore a world and time that I had never known. I would especially like to thank the Western Reserve Historical Society for their collections of Italian-American and LGBT historical materials, both of which were immensely helpful in my research, as well as the following invaluable authors for their books: Secrets of Sideshows by Joe Nickell; My Life with Geeks, Freaks, & Vagabonds in the Carny Trade, the autobiography of Howard Bone; and A Pictorial History of the American Carnival by Joe McKennon.
About the Author
AMY STILGENBAUER IS A WRITER and archivist currently based in southeast Michigan. She is the author of the young adult novel, The Legend of League Park, and her short story, “The Fire-Eater’s Daughter,” was included in Summer Love: An LGBTQ Collection published by Duet, the young adult imprint of Interlude Press. When not working, she stays busy gardening, playing trivia, and keeping her cats away from her knitting.
One story
can change everything.
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For a reader’s guide to Sideshow and book club prompts,please visit interludepress.com.
Also by
AMY STILGENBAUER
“The Fire-Eater’s Daughter” in Summer Love: An LGBTQ Collection
When a traveling carnival comes back to town, Ruth must choose between caring for her mother and a life with the beautiful and mysterious Constance, the fire-eater’s daughter. The Fire-Eater’s Daughter is a short story originally published in Summer Love, an LGBTQ young adult collection published by Duet, an imprint of Interlude Press.
Summer Love : An LGBTQ Collection ISBN (print) 978-1-941530-59-7 | (eBook) 978-1-941530-60-3
Short Story ISBN (eBook) 978-1-941530-90-0
Buy the short story: IP Webstore | Amazon | Smashwords | Barnes & Noble
Buy Summer Love: IP Webstore | Apple iBookstore | Amazon | Smashwords | All Romance eBooks | Barnes & Noble
Now Available From
INTERLUDE PRESS
Burning Tracks by Lilah Suzanne
In the sequel to Broken Records, Gwen Pasternak has it all: a job she loves as a celebrity stylist and a beautiful wife, Flora. But as her excitement in working with country music superstar Clementine Campbell grows, Gwen second-guesses her quiet domestic bliss. Meanwhile, her business partner, Nico Takahashi and his partner, reformed bad-boy musician Grady Dawson, face uncertainties of their own.
ISBN (print) 978-1-941530-99-3 | (eBook) 978-1-945053-00-9
Buy Now: IP Webstore | Apple iBookstore | Amazon | Smashwords | All Romance eBooks | Barnes & Noble
Speakeasy by Suzey Ingold
In the height of the Prohibition era in Manhattan, recent Yale graduate Heath Johnson falls for Art, the proprietor of a unique speakeasy where men are free to explore their sexuality. When Art’s sanctuary is raided, Heath is forced to choose between love and the structured life his parents planned for him.
ISBN (print) 978-1-941530-69-6 | (eBook) 978-1-941530-70-2
Buy Now: IP Webstore | Apple iBookstore | Amazon | Smashwords | All Romance eBooks | Barnes & Noble
Right Here Waiting by K.E. Belledonne
In 1942, Ben Williams had it all—a fulfilling job, adoring friends and the love of his life, Pete Montgomery. But World War II looms over them. When Pete follows his conscience and joins the Army Air Force as a bomber pilot, Ben must find the strength to stay behind without his lover, the dedication to stay true and the courage he never knew he’d need to discover his own place in the war effort.
ISBN (print) 978-1-941530-22-1 | (eBook) 978-1-941530-28-3
Buy Now: IP Webstore | Apple iBookstore | Amazon | Smashwords | All Romance eBooks | Barnes & Noble
Table of Contents
Author’s Note
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Sideshow Page 19
