Heart of Ice (Deadman Series Book 6)

by Linell Jeppsen

  Tom Devon, who was getting tired of waiting for his old man to kick off so he could sell the farm and head on down to New Orleans where the action was, turned red at the insult. He twisted his lips and spat on the wooden slats by Lenny’s face.

  The mayor stared down at the puny little dwarf and sighed. He looked about half-starved and was as pale as a ghost. The seat of his britches was wet with blood and he was shivering, silently, against the shock of his injury. Mayor Wallings had seen his share of bad men - murderers, rapists, thieves - but this poor little midget didn’t seem to fit the bill.

  Also, he knew that Abraham Devon was as mean as the day was long and his son and daughters were meaner by half. Do they really want me to hang this sorry sprout for picking a few apples?

  Making up his mind, the mayor said, “Bring him inside the jail. I’ll set him in the stocks as an example but he needs to be patched up first or he’ll draw flies.”

  “But, Mayor!” Devon cried.

  “No buts! I’ve made my decision!” Wallings snapped.

  Lenny was picked up by the mayor and carried inside a musty-smelling office. There was a small couch close to a wood stove and Wallings whispered in Lenny’s ear as he sat him down gently on the stiff horsehair, “You stay quiet as a mouse, you hear?”

  Lenny nodded and watched as the mayor met his accusers by the front door. “You men follow me to the jailhouse now. You can swear yer complaints while your young thief is being tended to by the doctor.”

  “But he might run off!” someone complained.

  “Hells bells! That kid ain’t going nowhere! You half-crippled him! Come on!” Their voices faded away and Lenny lay back with a sigh. What the mayor said was true as Lenny didn’t think he could hobble off, much less run.

  A few minutes later, a dapper little man with a big satchel stepped through the front door. He walked over to where Lenny lay and held out a dainty, white hand. “Hello, my name is Martin Trevain. I am the town doctor. Mind if I take a look?”

  Lenny hated baring his bottom but he knew he needed some sort of medical attention. He nodded and said, “Go ahead, sir.”

  He turned over and loosed the buttons on his britches, pulling the material away with a hiss of pain as the fabric pulled at the still bleeding holes.

  “Yup,” the doctor murmured, “Tom got you good. Now, hold on tight to the back of that settee. This is going to sting…”

  And it did…Lenny whined against the tendrils of fire that seemed to go clear to the depths of his inner soul. Thankfully, there was only one puncture hole. The next tine on the fork had merely scraped a long furrow along his right hip but it, too, stung like hellfire when the doctor poured the herb-smelling liquid on the scrape.

  After wiping the area down with soapy water, the doctor put a bandage on the two wounds and closed up his satchel. Eyeing Lenny’s dirty face and filthy rags, he said, “Keep the wounds as clean as you can so the fever doesn’t set in. I’ll tell the mayor you’re all set.”

  With those words, the doctor left leaving Lenny to wonder just what he was all set for. He laid his head back on the arm of the couch and fell asleep. An hour or two later, as the sun fell down behind the Ozark mountains, the mayor tiptoed into the office and saw the dwarf sound asleep on his couch. He had finally managed to get rid of Abraham and his son. After promising to set Lenny in the stocks for the next two weeks and giving the affronted farmer both the dwarf’s horse and what little coin he had on his person, they had left for home.

  A stage coach was due to arrive any minute and Wallings wanted the young man on the outbound as soon as possible. People around these parts didn’t tolerate freaks of nature and the mayor just knew he would find the dwarf dead on the street if he were left in the stocks.

  When Wallings was a boy, he had loved an uncle who was also a dwarf. His Uncle Tim was the kindest, smartest and gentlest man he had ever met but his body was so twisted he had died at the age of only thirty-three years old. Looking down at the sleeping dwarf on his couch, Wallings swore to do what he could to help.

  The mayor placed a five dollar piece of silver in the boy’s money belt and, after shaking him awake, Wallings helped him to his feet and said, “Coach is comin’, son. You need to be on it.”

  “Coach?” Lenny mumbled sleepily. “Where to, sir?”

  “This coach is headed to New Orleans,” Wallings answered. “Now, here is a little lunch the Missus packed for ye and the directions to the house of an old friend of mine. His name is Tom Kidwell. He’s a gruff ‘un but kind in his own way. Go there and stay out of trouble, ye hear me?”

  Emotion made the old man’s voice wobble a bit and Lenny stared at his savior’s face in the dimness of sunset. “Thank you, sir,” he said, then coughed a little as dust rose like a plume of smoke at the coach’s arrival. He started to board the coach when Wallings clutched his arm and bent down to whisper in his ear.

  “There is a five dollar silver in yer money belt. Them scoundrels took off with yer horse and what cash you had. You be careful when you cash that coin and don’t let folks see you flash it around, okay?”

  “Yessir… thank you again, sir!” Lenny managed to say before he found himself inside the empty coach and taking off down the road toward the city of New Orleans with the crack of a whip and the pounding of horse’s hooves.

  Chapter Three

  The Monster

  Lenny awoke with a start. He sighed, looking around at a gray bank of fog that had fallen over the river and surrounding forest. The tang of moisture in the air told him that yet another snow storm was on the way. He shook his head and wished that those folks in California who had gathered cash together to rescue these poor pilgrims would arrive soon.

  He was tired of being tired all the time, and of starving. He was sick to death of being cold and weary of watching his back. Knowing deep in his heart that he was being eyed by the rest of the party as a meal added fear and tension to an already untenable situation.

  Remembering the thigh bone he had stashed in the snow, he climbed to his feet, tried to wipe the heavy moisture from his clothing, and trudged toward his hidey-hole. Retrieving the hank of meat from the snow, he walked into his cave, poured fresh river water into a pot and placed it over the coals he kept warm toward the back of the cavern.

  He knew it would take a while for the water to grow hot enough to melt the meat off the bone so he figured he would try his luck at fishing while he waited. He took his hickory stick, threaded a little bit of gristle from his find onto the hooked wire attached to the end of the pole and poked it under a shelf of ice close to the shoreline.

  Although he was normally a pretty good fisherman, Lenny was beginning to think that even the fish were hibernating like bears do during the longest days of winter. He had only managed to catch two fish in the last three weeks which was why he had resorted to eating human flesh along with the rest of the Donner party.

  The deer had fled, rabbits were nowhere to be found… it seemed to Lenny that every one of God’s creatures were seeking shelter from these high-mountain storms. He would have fled, too, but he was just too small to make tracks through the ever-growing snowdrifts that covered the trails leading one way or the other through the Sierra/Nevada Mountains.

  Letting his mind wander, Lenny huddled close to a large boulder and gave his fishing rod a tug once in a while, hoping against hope that a stray bass or trout would be tempted by the grizzly snack bobbing just under the water’s surface.

  Thinking of the scar that bisected his face, he recalled the morning he had arrived in New Orleans. The coach had remained empty for three days before it pulled to a stop in downtown New Orleans. It wasn’t until later in his life that Lenny realized the kindly mayor must have paid dearly for that solo ride.

  Lenny stepped off the coach and stared about in awe. He had never in his life seen such a hubbub. There were coaches, carriages, horses, cows, pigs, goats, chickens and people - hundreds of people - everywhere. He smelled a rank, peculiar odor
on the breeze and, stepping up on a large mounting block, he saw a harbor filled with large ships, small rowboats, canoes and huge paddle-wheeled ferry boats.

  And the noise! There were bells clanging and whistles blowing, dogs barking, pigs squealing, and people shouting to be heard. To a young man who was used to living in a hushed, secluded hollow high in the Ozarks, the clamor was unbelievable yet thrilling.

  He stood staring for a moment, his mouth open in shock, and then he smiled. He thought, Here I am, Lenny Turnbull, seeing the world in all of its glory. Suddenly, a piece of rubbish hit him square in the face; it stung and filled his eyes, nose and mouth with a noxious odor. Wiping the gunk off, he looked down and saw a pack of young boys staring up at him with malicious glee.

  “Freak! Get outta here! Go back to hell where you came from, monster!” they jeered.

  Lenny ducked as their words were followed by more garbage and an occasional rock thrown in for good measure. Scrambling down from the mounting block, he ran off a ways and stepped behind the high walls of a warehouse. Looking around the corner of the building, he glanced back at the big block of wood he had been standing on and saw that the boys were gone but a very tall, skinny man stood in their place.

  The man was staring straight at him and gestured for Lenny to approach. Seeing the young dwarf hesitate in fear, the man hollered, “Come on! My name’s Kidwell, Tom Kidwell. Mayor Wallings asked me to come and fetch ya and I ain’t got all day!”

  Lenny had memorized that name over the last few days and his heart filled with relief. Stepping out from behind the building’s shelter, he walked over to where the man stood waiting and peering down at him with a jaundiced eye. “Well, don’t you look a sight!” he sniffed.

  “Sorry, sir. Didn’t mean to get dirty but…” Lenny stared about, wondering where his tormentors had disappeared to.

  “You don’t need to apologize, son. I saw what happened,” Kidwell said. “Still, can’t have you meeting the Missus looking and smelling like that. Come on, follow me.”

  With those words, the man spun on his heel and strode down the busy thoroughfare, Lenny moving along behind as quickly as possible with his still sore and stiff bottom.

  They stepped inside a warm, steamy place called a bathhouse and Lenny was told, in no uncertain terms, to “get in that tub, right now!” He hated to but, in truth, it was one of the best experiences he had ever had. Afterwards, Tom tended to the wounds on Lenny’s buttocks which, by some miracle, had stayed free of infection and then they marched across the street where Tom bought Lenny his first ever, store-bought clothes. These included a new pair of dark gray pants, fresh cotton undergarments, a snowy-white shirt, a vest, and a pair of felt shoes.

  Lenny stared at himself in the store’s mirror and hardly recognized the man who stared back at him. Gazing past his own shoulder at Tom who was frowning down at him in speculation, Lenny said, “Sir, you know, everyone looks big to me but, if you don’t mind my sayin’, you seem especially tall…”

  Kidwell grinned and puffed out his chest with pride. “Yessir! I am almost seven feet tall and proud of it!” Looking into Lenny’s upturned face, he added, “But, according to normal folk, I am as much of a monster as you are. That’s why we all stick together. Now, let’s go!”

  Lenny had no idea where they were going but he followed as Tom Kidwell paid for the clothing and made his way back to a plain but sturdy carriage close to where the coach had originally dropped him off. The dwarf saw a sign on the back of the carriage but he didn’t know how to read, so he asked, “Tom, what does that sign say?”

  “That sign reads, ‘Auntie Minnie’s Wonders of the World’,” Tom exclaimed. “That’s what we are, son… wonders, not monsters. Best remember that from here on out. Now let’s go home.”

  A half hour later, Lenny and Tom pulled up to a large but rather shabby-looking house in the Garden District. And this was where Lenny finally found acceptance, love and happiness… at least, for a while.

  *

  Lenny spent the next four years of his life with Auntie Min and her “Wonders of the World” which included Tom Kidwell, the world’s tallest man—although rumor had it there was an even taller fellow named Igor Tranonovitch somewhere in Siberia though nobody ever mentioned that in Tom’s presence—and Sally, the “Human Pig”, named for her great weight, her pink skin and her unfortunate proboscis which turned sharply upward at the nostrils, giving her the unmistakable appearance of a sow.

  Then there was Herman the Frog Boy whose skin was slightly green and whose long, skinny legs were so thin and flexible he was able to squat like a toad and croak like one, too. And the Siamese twins, Greta and Nancy, who were only connected by a mutual foot but were still deemed so alien by “normal” folk, the girls might as well have come from the Moon.

  Finally, there was Martha Adams; a dwarf like Lenny but almost perfect in limb and body, unlike him with his twisty back and legs. He fell in love with her at first sight although it took years for her to reciprocate his feelings.

  The lady of the house, Auntie Min, had been raised in a circus and had traveled the circuit with her father most of her life. But when he passed away, she found enough money in his coffers to finally settle down, buy a home of her own, and give refuge to the many outcasts she had first discovered and fallen in love with in the circus—mainly men and woman so ravaged by nature they hardly resembled human beings at all. She found them to be singularly kind, intelligent and much better friends, by far, than normal people.

  She ran a minor freak show on the bottom floor of her home; not that she thought of her companions as freaks but because she needed a way to make a living. Also, much to her surprise, her house guests actually gained pride and a sense of achievement while performing for an audience they had never found before in their sad and sorry lives.

  Two of her long-time companions were horribly shy. One was an old man named Marcus whose eyes started from his head like marbles. She suspected he had some sort of brain tumor which caused his eyes to swell and gave him fierce, hellish headaches. Although she had offered to pay for a doctor, Marcus was deathly afraid of being examined and had sworn to kill himself if one was brought around to the house.

  Her other helpmate had come with her when she left the circus. Her name was Petunia and she was deaf, blind and dumb. She wafted about the house like a spirit from another world but a sweeter, more sensitive person had never been born. Although the old lady needed and desperately depended upon others in the household to help her navigate through life, she had served her mistress as a caretaker, maid, seamstress and cook for nigh on twenty years.

  Lenny found a place amongst these outcasts along with a sense of self-worth he had never felt before. He did his part in Auntie’s sideshows and, when he wasn’t playing a part in one of her little plays, he did fix-it work around her rambling old house. He was smart, if ignorant, and Minnie made it her business to teach the young man how to read and do rudimentary math so he could help Tom out in the world of “normal” people.

  A year or so after Lenny came to the house to live, he and Martha started stepping out. They rarely left the house or yard but everyone knew that a budding relationship was developing between the two dwarves and heartily approved the match. A few months passed and, once they got to the kissing stage, Lenny put on his best and cleanest clothes and asked Auntie Min if he could ask for Martha’s hand in marriage.

  She had laughed and said, “Well, I was wondering if you were ever going to summon up the nerve!”

  Two days later, Lenny and Tom went down to the public market for food, coal, oats and a couple of bolts of material for a bridal gown. The shopping expedition took most of the day and by the time they got back home, it was dark… and so was the house. Lenny felt a prickle of alarm run up and down his spine. Usually, the whole household turned out to help carry in supplies but no one came to greet them this time.

  Tom had taken no notice and was unhitching the horse from the wagon.

 
; Lenny said, “Tom, where is everybody?”

  Looking up, Tom straightened and stared at the darkened windows. “I don’t know, son. Let’s go take a look.”

  Taking his pistol out of his coat pocket, Tom moved ahead of Lenny toward the back stoop. The door was slightly ajar and Lenny just knew something was amiss. “Tom,” he whispered. “Be careful!”

  At that same instant, the door flew open and three men stood in the darkened doorway, staring at them in shock. One of the men blurted, “Who the hell are you?”

  But Tom was in no mood for questions. Lifting his pistol, he barked, “No! Who are you and what are you doing here?!”

  A shotgun replied and Tom, no longer the “World’s Tallest Man,” flew in pieces backward onto the patch of grass that served as their lawn. Lenny gaped for a second and then jumped down off the stoop and tried to run away into the lengthening shadows…but one of the intruders was hot on his tail.

  He was grabbed from behind and lifted high into the air; he felt a knife travel a fiery path from his left ear to his right. Later on, he figured his assailant had gone for his throat but had miscalculated due to his diminutive size.

  Lenny thought he would die right there but then the screech of police whistles filled the air, the hands that grasped him were gone, and he fell in a heap onto the ground.

  He awoke in a hospital a few hours later with his face swollen to twice its normal size and gasping in pain. A Holy Sister came in and told him that everyone in Min’s house had been murdered during the robbery while he and Tom were gone shopping, including Auntie Min and Martha Adams, the love of his life.

  He was also informed that, although the thieves had been apprehended and incarcerated, the house and all of its belongings would be auctioned off to pay for the mass burial and for his own surgery.

  For the second time, Lenny Turnbull found himself abandoned—alone and lost—wandering the Earth like some desolate, God-forsaken fairy-tale monster.