We sank to the ground together, and Mama held me like I was a cub. "Shh. You can't help him. You mustn't hurt anyone."
"I want to eat the bastard." I growled low in my throat to emphasize it.
"Arthur!" Mama snapped. I wasn't sure if it was the sentiment or my language. Her hands were still soothing on my head and back.
"Sorry, Mama. I hate him. I will eat him one fine night."
"You will not. Constructs can't harm humans."
"Can't? Watch me. He hurt my Gordon."
"How?" Mama's simple word sparked another flood of tears and I told her everything. She held me and rocked me like I was little and not nearly grown.
"Oh baby." We sat there a long time, silent and rocking in the night. Finally Mama spoke up. I'd never heard her sound so sad. "The hardest thing in the world is to know someone you love is being hurt and not do anything about it. You're free to rage and shred trees. Do what you need to so you don't hurt anyone."
She sounded like she knew, and I had to ask. "Mama, did they hurt me in the lab?"
"No, sweetheart. You were made in the lab, but I got out before I delivered you. You had two brothers. I couldn't get them out when I escaped."
I stared. Mama had never told me this. Two brothers. And she had to watch them being hurt, maybe killed, and carry me, knowing I would be hurt and killed, too. Because constructs aren't people and we don't have feelings.
I couldn't think of anything to say. So I squeezed her tighter and stayed there holding her. My brothers might yet live in the laboratory. My Gordon did yet live, in the trailer.
I smiled as an idea came to me. I hugged Mama and stood up. She reached up and I helped her to her feet.
"We better get back before Daddy Frank worries about us," I said. "I love you, Mama. And I'll be all right."
She hugged me tight and gave me a kiss before we walked back to the pick-up. Daddy Frank sat by the fire, his head cocked and listening. He smiled when we came close.
"Everything better, son?" he asked me.
"I'll be fine. You two get some sleep. It's late. I'm sorry to cause so much trouble."
They went into the vardo, and I curled up under the stars and watched Scorpio make his way across the sky, bright Antares pulsing like the veins behind my eyes. I had a plan.
The next morning, I was up with the sun. I poked up the fire for breakfast cooking and went for water so Mama would have it. Chores done, I headed out to the hoochie trailers.
I remembered which one was Gordon's. He was still there. I growled a little as I smelled blood, too. I knocked on his door.
Nathan, the hoochie show boss, answered the door. "Well, well, if it ain't the bear-kid. What do you want?"
"I want to see Gordon, please. I've been missing him a lot; we've been so busy."
Nathan gave me a sour look. "Go tell your mother she wants you to rob a beehive, kid." He shut the door in my face.
I sat on the steps. Gordon had to come out sometime. He had practices and shows. I listened as I sat there, and smelled the camp coming awake around me. The dancers woke up and washed and dressed, painted and perfumed themselves.
Cinnamon strolled by with a water bucket, and Shirley got the breakfast fire stoked. I waited and listened.
Gordon snored in his trailer, and Nathan banged around, dressing and generally being noisy, as if trying to wake him. I had a really good idea who was hurting Gordon last night. Finally, the morning air carried the hot golden smell of my Gordon to me as he woke up and stretched.
I waited.
"G'wan, kid, or I'll talk to Frank," Nathan snapped as he came out. He turned and locked the trailer door behind him. I wondered if he knew how futile that gesture was. I could shear through the metal or simply rip the door off its hinges. "Coffee!" he bellowed as he strode out into the courtyard of the trailers. "Don't any of you whores have coffee ready yet?"
I slipped around to the room where Gordon's smell was the strongest. He was looking out of one of the windows.
"Hey," I whispered up at him.
"Arthur," he whispered back, giving me a big smile.
"Are you okay, beautiful? I heard you crying last night."
His face went hard, like Cinnamon's had. "I'm fine."
"Tonight, come to our place after your last show. You can stay with us and nobody will come to hurt you."
Gordon nodded. "If he lets me out."
"He has to. You're the star. A real live construct for the entertainment of the rubes."
"I'll see you, Arthur." He blew me a kiss and bucked out of sight.
I hurried back to the vardo. Mama had oatmeal ready for us.
I waited all day, doing my work but keeping one eye open for Gordon. I wanted to cuddle him on my blanket by the cook-fire, and keep him safe all night. He was too pretty for anyone to hurt.
I sold a lot of bears that day. The crowd kept whispering that I looked so sad. The little kids bought the bears to cheer me up. A couple of the pretty girls bought them and stroked my ears, just to see if they were real. Sad Teddy played pretty well. I wondered if I could manage it when I didn't feel like the whole world was wrapped in gray fog.
Gordon had to work, but I couldn't stop myself watching for him. Finally, during the freak-show's afternoon break, I wandered down to the hoochie trailer and paid my nickel to get in.
I settled myself on a row part of the way back, where Gordon wouldn't see me right away, and where Nathan hopefully wouldn't notice me and throw me out.
Gordon came out next to last. The other dancers had slowly gotten better and better and I was looking forward to seeing his.
Nathan, the boss of the dancers, stepped to the center of the stage. He was handsome, for a human, tall and regular featured, with dark hair and eyes that made him look smart. I hated him very hard in that moment. He hurt my Gordon.
"Ladies and gentlemen, Consolidated Shows is pleased to present...Leo!" A slideshow came up on the back scrim. "Deep in the deserts of Egypt, in far off heathen times, a tribe of people lived in close harmony with a pride of lions. The women of the tribe would feed the lion cubs and human infants suckled from lionesses alongside their furred friends. But the tribe was wicked and heathen, and in time, children of the lions and people were born. Eventually, the entire tribe became human-lion admixtures. Deep into Egypt our hunters trekked and they have returned with the most graceful and lovely of the tribe. As his Egyptian name is long and unwieldy, we call him Leo. For your edification, good people, Leo!"
Gordon came out on the stage, wearing a little white skirt around his waist, bangle bracelets and a golden collar like the pictures of the Egyptians I'd seen in a Bible story book. His mane was all brushed out and he wore heavy makeup around his eyes.
I stared. I couldn't breathe, couldn't move. He was the most beautiful person I'd ever seen.
Then, when he danced, I felt tears sliding down my face. He moved like living flame, golden and blue, a pillar of fire against the backdrop of sand and pyramids. This was too much beauty for a clumsy, silly bear like me to even dream of touching. That wasn't my Gordon, just another construct, on that stage. He wasn't my anything. He was Leo, a half-human, half-lion god of Old Egypt, deigning to dance for us mortals.
I could barely watch. A superstitious part of my mind said if I looked too long, I would be caught in a snare of fire and dance, entangled by Leo forever.
The last wails of the music died away and Leo came up out of his splits. He picked his way off the stage and the audience let out its collective breath before applauding.
"Now I must ask that all children under eighteen and all the ladies leave. The last dancer is for the gentlemen only."
I was just as glad to make my way out of the tent that was suddenly too small and close to hold me. My pants felt too tight and I looked down. I tried to blush again. It looked like I had just woke up and not been to the donniker yet.
I looked at the clock mounted on a pole in the cen
ter of the midway and ran. I made it onto my little stage, my body subsiding into something acceptable for the matinee crowd, just as our talker started his spiel.
"See the bearded lady. See the Living Teddy Bear. Step up step up, educational for all ages. See the Living Skeleton and the world's smartest Siamese twins! They're all alive on the inside and one small nickel gets you in. Children two cents. You don't need that buffalo in your pocket, sir, just give it here and go on in."
I got comfortable in my chair and rocked a little. The crowd filed in, small and poor-looking. I wasn't betting I would sell too many bears today. But, the show was the thing.
"He's stuffed," one man told his wife. "See, the chair rocks because of a rope."
I winked at her when he wasn't looking. She gave me a smile. They wandered around to where the bearded lady was starting her act. I didn't pay much attention. I'd seen Lilah's act five times a day, every day. I could probably do it.
Instead, I thought about the dancing. Gordon moved entirely differently when he was on that stage than when he was sitting by my fire. He was too beautiful to be real, and I knew I wasn't the only one who had left the hoochie show dreaming about him. Men and women alike had stared with me, enraptured. And I knew what they wanted of him. The same things as I did.
The angry sick feeling started in my belly again as the crowd moved on to the Living Skeleton's stage. I thought about it and wondered. I didn't want anyone else to want him. I didn't want anyone else to touch him. Jealousy. That was it. I was jealous over a boy, and I didn't even know how he felt about me.
I hoped he felt the same. I hoped he loved me. Yes, I loved him. That was exactly it. I went all gushy around him like Mama did around Frank. I didn't want anyone hurting him, like Frank protected Mama. I sat, confused, rocking, until it was my turn.
I got up, did my lumbering dance, my feet heavy and clumsy as I remembered Leo's litheness, and sold teddy bears, trying to ignore the gaping from the man who thought I was just stuffed.
I made change from a fifty-cent piece in front of him, and he gaped some more. His wife smirked as they moved on to the Siamese twins' stage.
Gordon. My Gordon. I hoped he wanted to be my Gordon. I'd gotten used to thinking of him that way. But if he didn't, it made me no better than Nathan, who owned him.
Mama had held me last night and explained the legal situation, now that she thought I was old enough to know. Constructs were property, owned by humans, whether individuals as pets or the laboratories that made them and experimented on them.
"We react like humans to many, many things, so they test medications on us. It's not easy or pretty. Since we aren't human, they have fewer qualms about using us in fatal tests." Her voice was very sad. I didn't look back to see her face.
"But slavery is illegal." I remembered the history lessons Daddy Frank had taught me. "They fought a whole war over that."
"It is illegal," Mama agreed, "for humans. We're classified as animals and can't be slaves."
"Doesn't matter. Are we slaves, Mama?"
"No. Frank has some fake papers that say we are, but he doesn't own us at all. And he wouldn't if he could. There are some men who can own others and men who can't. Frank's the last sort."
"And Nathan's the first," I added softly.
Mama hadn't said anything to that. We finally went to bed.
I finished the shows for the day and waited by the fire. Gordon came out of the dark, looking around and moving very quietly. If I hadn't been watching for him, he could have pounced on me before I heard him.
"Hi," I said.
"I'm going to get into trouble," he said.
"Nah. I thought you might like to spend the night here instead of under Nathan."
He growled at me. In a couple of years, it would be a full fledged roar. "Nobody knows about that. It's shameful and illegal."
"Only illegal. There's nothing shameful about giving yourself to someone you love."
"Then what I'm doing is really shameful," he said, looking away and staring into the fire.
I put my paw over his. "I won't shame you for it. Not any more than I would if one of the roustabouts hit you."
"You think it's like being hit?" He turned to me, his eyes bright green in the night.
"Same idea. Someone is hurting you and you can't fight back for fear of harming them and getting yourself killed."
His ears had laid back against his head, and he snarled. I didn't let go of his hand.
"Gordon. I just want you to stay here tonight. Sleep beside the fire, tell dumb jokes half the night and wake up to Mama making pancakes."
"You won't?"
I shook my head. "I won't. I don't hurt anyone."
He nodded. "I'd like it. Just us, talking." He reached over and took my other paw in his, and I thought I might die of happiness. Then he said "Knock knock."
I laughed. It was going to be a nice night.
They were mostly nice nights that summer. Gordon slept by our fire more nights than not. I worried about him on the nights he didn't. But he couldn't say no to Nathan, and I couldn't help him. All I could do was give him a safe place. Some nights, he came late, his face sad and hurt. Those nights, he would let me wrap an arm around him and tell him my dreams.
I hadn't even known I had dreams until then. But they poured out of me, tales of us traveling together. Me, playing the drums while he danced. Our own act, and our own agency.
He loved the idea. But he did bring up the one problem. "I cost a lot of money. Nathan will never sell me."
"I think he will," I said. "Someday. Big cats make bad pets as they grow up."
The day before the season ended, I caught up with him before the show opened. "Come with me."
We slipped over to the Ferris Wheel. The operator gave us a funny look. I held out a whole dollar.
"Take us around, please?" Gordon stared at me. He understood what I was doing and for a moment I thought he would bolt. Then he took my hand.
The operator grinned and nodded. "Eloping, huh kids? Don't want the folks to know? Well, Old Matt don't say nothing. Not to Mama Bears or nasty hoochie bosses."
We climbed into the first car of the wheel and hooked the chain over our laps. Matt started the wheel.
"Gordon, I love you." I finally said the words I'd been thinking all summer.
He turned and looked at my face then kissed me for the rest of the ride.
Matt stopped us on the platform and cleared his throat.
"You're married, boys. Now get outta here. I got a wheel to run."
I held Gordon's hand all the way back to the hoochie show. "Next year," I promised him, knowing it might be a lie. If Daddy Frank didn't get us on with this show, and if Nathan didn't get the dancers on with the show, we wouldn't be seeing each other again.
"Next year. Or we'll find each other, no matter what." His eyes went wide and green.
"I'll always come for you." I kissed him, there on the midway. I felt his tongue on my lips and opened them for him. It slid sweet and rough along the high roof of my mouth. Everything in me yearned to stay in that kiss rest of the day. I returned it, tasting the wide, warm spaces of his mouth, his sharp teeth and careful tongue.
"I love you," Gordon said and dashed into the trailer to get ready.
We spent the next summer together, too, making out plans to run away and have our own show. Mama overheard us making plans and took us both aside for another talk about the realities of life.
We slept by the fire every night. I wanted him, but was too afraid of hurting him. He liked being cuddled. I had to wash my pants out almost every morning, just from holding him.
The third summer, when we were legally adults, Nathan's Dance Palace didn't join the show. "Heard he got busted down in Florida. The girls went to other shows, and that construct? Nobody knows."
Gordon was free. My heart sang with it. He was free, and he might find his way back to the show. He knew where we hired a
nd he knew he had a place with my family. I watched every crowd, searching for his face. But he never came that summer.
The next summer, the show folded.
Consolidated had been a bad show, and had burned more than one lot, but we were honest, and the other shows knew it. Daddy Frank and I had no trouble finding work. The Happee Time Carnival took us on that year. They traveled a tight circuit in the south and midwest, from Atlanta to St. Louis and a looping way back. It was a good show with clean games and honest people.
Consolidated began to recede like a nightmare at dawn. The only memory I tried to keep from it was Gordon. Gordon dancing. Gordon kissing me on the Ferris Wheel. I saved every penny I had, and when the summer ended, I told Mama I was leaving.
"I have to find him, Mama. I love him." I paced the living room of our winter cottage.
"You're just a baby. I can't let you go." I thought she was going to cry.
"I'm legally an adult."
"You're legally mine," Daddy Frank said. "Or everyone thinks that. You can't go breaking your mother's heart like this. Think this through. How much money do you have, son?"
I knew to the penny how much I had. "Sixty-one dollars and twenty-three cents. It should let me hunt through the winter, and I'll come back before the spring start-up."
"Talk sense to him, Frank." Mama did throw her apron over her face and run for the kitchen then.
Frank sat me down. I was taller than he was now and much stronger. "You are legally a grown man, if you were human. Arthur, I've never treated you like anything other than my own boy, have I?"
I thought back over the years we'd been with Daddy Frank. He'd always been good to me, always been there for me. "No, sir."
"But you're not a boy, nor are you a man. You're a construct, and that makes everything different. The fact you love Gordon makes everything twice as hard. It isn't legal for constructs to own themselves. You do know that?"
Mama had already told us that. "Yes, sir."
"And it isn't legal for two men to love each other like you do. What you say you want is an outlaw life, son. I don't see how it will make you happy, always hiding or being on the run."
"Are you happy, Daddy Frank?"
Wild Passions Page 22
