Beholding Bee (5 page)

“Oh, all right, but just once.” I throw the stick out past our hauling truck and wipe my hands on my overalls. The little dog jumps after it and I head for the hot dog cart.

A minute later, there he is, dragging the stick and dropping it at my feet.

17

That’s when the warning light inside me goes on and off, on and off, and the hairs on my arms rise.

I look all around me. The carnival grounds are quiet. Everyone is sleeping from their late night out. I haven’t even seen anybody make their way to the john.

I take many deep breaths. The merry-go-round is empty and there is no one by the Penny Pitch or the Hoop-La. All is quiet out by the Little Pig Race. Bobby keeps the four piglets locked up tight in their shed overnight with plenty of fresh straw because, just like everyone else, pigs like a nice clean bed at night. “The idea that pigs like to be dirty is hogwash,” Bobby says. The trucks where everybody sleeps are still. The little dog and I are alone.

I drop a hot dog on a plate and put it on the ground. The little dog eats it in one gobble. I give him another hot dog and then another.

I pull the bucket I use to wash my hair over to the hose and fill it with water. The little dog is watching me very carefully. He comes over to the water and gives it a sniff. I know it is very cold, but I can’t do anything about that now. I reach over and pat him on the head and then I scratch between his ears. Already my fingers are covered with mud. I pick him up and he licks my cheek.

I lower him into the water and very slowly I rub his fur with apple shampoo. “Don’t tell Pauline,” I whisper. I lather
first his back and then the top of his head and then down around his belly, where I can feel his thin stomach and his slim ribs. I scratch around his ears and all down his bony chest and his legs. He closes his eyes. If he were a cat, he would purr.

There are many stickle burrs stuck in his fur, and when I pull at them he whines, so I let them be. I swish him all over and pour more and more of Pauline’s shampoo over him, squeezing the last of the suds out of the bottle. I look hard at his stump of a tail. “What happened to you?” I whisper, and then I wash his funny ears. Finally I lift him out and wrap him in my towel. He shivers, and when I put him down he shakes puddles all over me.

“Stop that,” I say, wiping the water off my face, but I can hardly believe what I see. “Well, look at you,” I say, all admiring, because the little matted dog is now the color of sweet butterscotch.

And then he growls. At the same time, my warning light goes on and off, on and off.

18

They have no shirts under their overalls and no shoes. How they got up to us so fast without me knowing, I do not know, and I have to cuss at myself. I scoop the little dog into my arms and pull my hair over my cheek.

“She’s the one,” the rounder one is saying.

“Show it to us.” The taller boy steps closer.

I step back against the hot dog cart.

“You get burned or something? You one of the retards they hire for folks to look at?”

The little dog whines. I feel the metal counter pushing into my backside. I shake my head. I am not that girl.

“Well, we mean to have ourselves a look. Isn’t that right?” He looks back at the rounder boy, who is nodding.

The tall boy laughs. He takes another step closer. I would back up if there was anywhere to go. The little dog yips a few times, then whines, then backs into my armpit.

“Maybe you got the Evil Eye on you. Show it to us.” His spit flies. He reaches for my hair. I push his hand away.

The rounder boy grins wide. He has watermelon cheeks. “Seems she don’t want you touching her.”

The little dog pulls himself out of my armpit and barks and then backs up like a turtle into my armpit again. It is awful hard to keep him still while I am trying to keep the side of my face hidden. I am sorry the honey is worn off my cheek.

The taller boy licks his lips. He is so close I smell orange pop on his breath. He reaches for my hair again.

That is too much. The little dog howls and then barks, sounding much bigger than he is. I have to struggle to keep him in my arms and I let go of my hair and it bounces away and suddenly my diamond is shining for everyone to see.

“Wow,” says the round boy, “will you look at that.” He takes a step back.

What they aren’t expecting is Bobby right behind them. “We’re closed,” Bobby growls. He is not wearing a shirt, just his overalls and work boots.

“We weren’t doing nothing,” the round boy says, backing up more, and then the taller one is saying, “We don’t want no trouble,” and then they are turning and running away. The tall one outruns the rounder boy and the little dog is trying to leap out of my arms so he can chase them out of our traveling show.

Bobby puts his hand on my shoulder and looks into my eyes. I try and hold back the tears.

Bobby nods at the dog. The dog wags his stumpy tail. The edges of Bobby’s mouth lift.

“I’ll keep my eye out for those boys. You keep that dog away from Ellis.” Then he turns and walks away.

19

The little dog and I both need a hot dog after that. It is nearly time for everyone to start waking up, so I get the grill started.

“Do you have a name?” The little dog looks at me, tilts his head, and then a worm floating in a little puddle catches his eye. He goes over for a closer look.

I think of all the boy names I know besides Arthur or Ellis or Fat Man Sam or Pete the Alligator Man.

“Roy? Is that your name?”

The dog sniffs at the worm.

“Hal, Jim?”

The dog pokes at the worm with his paw.

“Dexter? Theodore? Dean?”

The dog sticks his mouth in the puddle and grabs the worm with his teeth. He shakes it in the air and drops it at my feet.

“That is really disgusting.” I go over and flip hot dogs. “All right. If you’re not going to help, I’ll call you Nobody. How would you like that? Here, Nobody, here, Nobody!”

The dog looks at me. He tilts his head again and sticks up both of his ears. Then he goes back to the worm.

“Oh, forget it.” I take the hot dogs off the grill. The little dog forgets all about the worm and hurries over to me. He wags his stumpy tail.

I put a hot dog on a plate and put it on the ground. He
gulps it down and looks up at the Peabody Frankfurter box. “Woof!”

I look at him and back at the box. He wags his stumpy tail so fast he gets himself off balance. He looks at the box and whines.

“Peabody? Is that the name you want?” I cannot tell if he likes the name or if he wants another hot dog. But it is good enough for me. And that is how I give my dog a name.

20

That night Pauline goes off with Arthur and Fat Man Sam and all the others. She has been mad about Peabody all day. She thinks we will be in hot water when Ellis gets back from Poughkeepsie, where he is thinking of setting up a stay-put show.

I do not even ask her to take me with her. Instead, I bring Peabody into our truck. I turn on the big flashlight and show him my mattress, hard as our grill. I puff up my bedroll. I show him how we keep our clothes in old apple crates and how we keep the purple curtain closed. Already mosquitoes are getting in and I fix the curtain so there isn’t any space between the cloth and the sides of the truck.

I fluff up my pillow. I lie on my belly and watch Peabody. I tap the mattress and show him where he can lie down, right beside me. I tell him all about my life, how I came to be with the traveling show and with Ellis and with Pauline.

“Pauline has been very good except now she is with Arthur.” Peabody tilts his head so he looks as if he is interested in what I am saying. “Ellis does not like dogs and he will get rid of you if he finds you.”

It turns out it doesn’t take long to love a dog. I pull Peabody close and smell the sweet warm smell of him. After a while, he licks my face. I ask him where did he come from and tell him I do not know what Pauline will do when she sees him in the truck with me, so I will think of something.

A trash can knocks over outside. I turn off the flashlight. “Traveling shows attract a lot of skunks,” I whisper. Peabody is all interested in what is outside. He sits up and whines.

“Shush.” I scratch him behind the ears. He keeps watching the purple curtain with both of his ears raised up.

“Do you know about the ha-ha game?” I try to get his attention on other things. He tilts his head. “Well, it’s when you tell stories about when you were little. The ones that make you laugh. We do not tell the ones that make us sad.” I think about Pauline for a minute and then make myself stop because it is not a good idea to think about things that make you tearful when you are all contented. It tends to cloud things up.

I pull Peabody closer. It is so hot. “Do you like swimming holes?” Peabody wags his stumpy tail. I tell him all about how Pauline and I go swimming. “I don’t go swimming without Pauline, though.”

I rub his ear. “Sometimes when I am alone I go out and watch the stars. Do you like the stars?” Peabody tilts his head. “It’s a good star night tonight. There’s no moon.” Peabody wags his stumpy tail and that is a good enough answer for me.

It is very dark. I wave my flashlight and Peabody and I go slow to make sure there are no skunks. I pull my bedroll out past the Little Pig Race. We have to stop so I can let Cordelia and the others out of their shed so I can scratch them for a while. Peabody sniffs at them and I lift Cordelia over the fence and bring her onto the bedroll with me and Peabody. She snuggles up against us so I will rub her backside. Pigs are awful loving when you give them half a chance.

“That’s the Big Dipper.” Peabody’s fur is soft on my cheek. Cordelia is nuzzling around my belly. “And that is the North Star. It is a very important star if you are trying to find your way home.”

A crow caws. Peabody lifts his head and looks up. Another crow caws. I shiver. Peabody jumps up, looking through the dark. It is awful late for crows to be cawing. I scan the shadows with my flashlight. Peabody whines. Another crow caws. I think maybe I should shut Cordelia and the others in the shed.

“You wait here.” I pat Peabody’s back so he knows he should stay put. My legs are wobbly from standing on them all day. “I need to lock you up in case,” I say, lifting Cordelia into her pen.

Before I can say Jack Sprat those boys from before are coming up on us. Peabody raises the fur on his back and growls.

“Well, look what we found!” The tall boy and the round boy with watermelon cheeks stand grinning, as close to us as dug graves. They wait in the shadows of Cordelia’s pen, their ball caps pulled low. Another boy stands a little off to the side. He is smaller, thinner. Like the others, he has no shoes.

“What do we have here?” says the taller boy. “Is it the ugly girl?”

The round boy laughs. Peabody barks.

“And her ugly dog, too?”

I pick up Peabody. His fur is standing on end. I hold him close. I look for Cordelia, hoping the boys don’t notice her. I don’t know what they’d do to a baby pig. I try and pull my hair tight, but it is hard to do when I am holding a dog. I
look back at our hauling truck, wondering how quick my legs could get us there.

The tall boy steps closer and kicks the pigpen. Cordelia and the others scramble. Peabody whimpers.

“Knock it off.” I try and make my voice a boulder in my chest. I hold my dog tight.

The boy laughs. “What’s the matter, ugly girl? You don’t like us?” He grins. He looks at his friends. “She don’t like us.”

The round boy laughs. The little boy backs up. “I—I—I think we should leave her alone. My mama says we should stay away from her.”

“Naaaah,” the tall boy says. “Why would we want to do that? She’s just a girl. An ugly old girl. We’re just getting started.”

Peabody growls. I pull him tighter.

“I know what happened to you.” The tall boy reaches for my diamond. Peabody growls again. I step back. My legs are Jell-O. He laughs. Then in a low voice, he says, “Grab her!”

My legs quiver as I hold Peabody and leap away and dash toward our truck. Pauline is all I can think of as I run. I want Pauline. I want her to give these boys a taste of their own medicine. And then I want her to hold me so tight I can smell the apple shampoo in her hair.

“Catch her!” the tall boy yells. Bare feet slap the dirt behind me. I try and push myself faster but I am on shaking legs. The footsteps behind me get closer. There is no voice in my chest. My legs wobble and then I am pushed from behind and I fall, hitting the ground with my arms around Peabody and the weight of the tall boy on top of me.

“Don’t be a baby,” he whispers in my ear.

“Flip her over, flip her over!” the round boy screams.

“Careful or you’ll catch it,” whimpers the little one. “Don’t touch her mark.”

I hold tight to Peabody. He is trying to wiggle out of my arms. I hold on tighter.

The boy pulls me over and wipes my hair off my face. He touches my cheek, running his dirty fingers all over the edge where my diamond begins. Peabody howls and wiggles out of my grasp.

I shudder. I hold my breath, and then when the boy runs his fingers close enough, I grab his hand and send my teeth deep into the thin skin between his thumb and his finger. He screams that terrible high-pitched screech cats make at night. When I let go of him, he is already crying. He sucks at his hand.

“She’s marked you!” the youngest boy shrieks. Tears rush down his face.

Peabody barks and howls. He leaps between me and the boys. That’s when there is another sound, this time a bear growling.

Bobby grabs the tallest boy and flings him off me like a bag of potatoes. Then he picks up the little one and hurls him past the first.

The round boy runs over and drags the little one to his feet and then the tall one is running up the hill and away from our traveling show and the other two are chasing after.

Bobby helps me up and as soon as I am off the ground, I throw myself on him, sobbing, and you can tell he does not know much about children or what you are supposed to do when one is crying, because his arms are stiff as barn boards as they wrap around me.