Beholding Bee (8 page)

“I can’t. I’m a terrible runner.”

“You can.”

“I can’t.”

He leans against the fence and takes off his glasses again and wipes them off. He crosses his arms against his chest.

“Bee, I have something I need to tell you.”

I look over at him quickly.

“I’m going to be leaving here, too.”

I sit down before I fall. Cordelia nuzzles in my hair.

“There’s a factory in York, Maine, Bee, and they want workers to build bomber engines. It’s not that far from here. I saw the signs when we were going through Portland.”

I wipe my face on my sleeve.

“Oh, don’t cry.” He kneels down beside me and wipes my face with the old bandanna he keeps in his pocket. It smells like pigs. I don’t want him to stop.

“I’ve been trying to talk myself out of it, but I have to do something better for myself than running pig races. I’ve asked Eldora to keep an eye on you and she’s promised not to pull any voodoo.” He pats my head. It feels like a thumping.

I sob into his shoulder. “But it’s my birthday next week. You can’t leave before my birthday.”

He pulls away and wipes my tears. “Your birthday? I didn’t know, Bee.”

“You can’t leave me. You can’t.”

He sighs several times. “Oh, Bee. I can’t wait another day. I’ve got everything worked out. If I can’t fly a bomber
with these eyes, at least I can build bomber engines. And who knows, maybe as the war goes on, they’ll loosen up the rules and let men like me serve.”

I reach up and put my arms around him. “But I don’t want you to go. Everyone is always leaving me. I just want you to stay. I’ll run. I promise I will. I’ll run every morning and every night, and every afternoon, too. You can call me the Hurricane. Maybe you can make Pauline come back to us.”

He squeezes me hard. It is not easy to hug someone with a piglet between you, but I let Bobby squeeze me tight. “I wanted to give you one more lesson before I go. It’s getting late now, so we’ll try tomorrow morning soon as you get up. But it has to be early because Ellis is coming back and I need to leave before he gets here.”

Bobby asks if I will promise not to tell anyone where he is going and then he walks off to pack. He leaves Cordelia in my arms. It is hard to cry when a piglet is looking so sweet on you. But I do anyway.

33

It is so hard to sleep without Pauline. I hide myself deep in my bedroll and try and keep the tall boy and the small boy and the round boy with the watermelon cheeks out of my head.

I roll all around inside my bedroll and Peabody has to get up off my belly each time and circle around and around until he finds a good spot. He sighs to let me know he is tired of doing this.

When I wake up I am surprised I ever fell asleep. The sun is barely up when I sit up and sink my feet into my work boots.

“Ready?” I ask Peabody as I tie tight knots.

You don’t have to ask him twice. He jumps off the mattress and scurries down the ladder. He is getting very good at this now.

The traveling show is very quiet this early in the morning and I don’t have to worry about Peabody running free. I knock on Bobby’s truck. He opens his curtain after a minute and looks out. His hair could use some greasing down.

“Will you show me more about running?” I ask.

Bobby jumps to the ground with his old white running shoes. We hurry to the pigpen. We don’t have much time.

“Run from here to the Ferris wheel,” he tells me.

“Come on,” I tell Peabody, and I am off, putting one foot
in front of the other, trying not to bounce, trying to make my stride the right length and keep my arms at a forty-five-degree angle.

“Slow, slower,” I hear behind me.

Gosh, I think. I am running slower than Cordelia. But I haven’t lost my breath, and I circle the Ferris wheel and head back.

“Okay, now fast!” I speed up and for a few moments I can fly. Then my lungs fill with water and I feel my blood pumping in my head. I slow down.

Bobby is grinning when I reach him. “Very good. Very, very good.” We sit on the grass so I can catch my breath. Peabody goes over and sniffs at Cordelia.

“So who tripped you?” I look over by the shed where Pete the Alligator Man locks up the alligator and beyond to where Silas Meany sits. The sun warms my face and I undo my laces and tie them again.

“One of the guys from the other team. Guess he wanted to win pretty bad. They used to say I could have beat Jesse Owens if I didn’t get busted up. That was stretching it a bit.” Bobby grins.

“Who’s Jesse Owens?”

“You don’t know about Jesse Owens? Where’ve you been, Bee?” Bobby chuckles. “He is the grandson of a slave, who won four gold medals running in the 1936 Olympics in Berlin. That made Hitler powerful mad. Probably started the war, Hitler was so upset.”

“If you were hurt, how’d you end up with Ellis?”

“Well, there were no jobs to be had and Ellis comes through town one day and sees me limping around by the
barbershop with nothing to do and he offers me a job. Same way he finds everyone.”

“He didn’t find me that way.”

“No, he didn’t.” Bobby lets Peabody lick his face.

“Did you know my mama and papa?”

Bobby scratches between Peabody’s ears. “No, I came on after that. You were already with Pauline.”

Thinking about Pauline is like being all balled up in a blanket and you can’t breathe. I try and get air into my lungs. I let out a little sob.

“I will find you after the war when I am done building bombers, Bee.”

“How? What if I don’t work for Ellis anymore?”

Bobby puts Peabody in my lap. “I have an idea. Wait here.”

He jumps up and hurries off to his truck. Peabody jumps off my lap and follows Bobby. He knows a good man when he sees one.

When Bobby comes back he is holding the
Billboard
magazine. He opens it to the middle, and hands it to me.

“See this?”

He points to a small boxed advertisement at the bottom of the Carnivals page.

It reads:

Anyone knowing whereabouts of

Virgil Mumford

Please phone or wire at our expense

Urbana, Ill., Jul. 27–31, Farmer City, Ill., Aug. 2–8

“This is what I’ll do, Bee. I’ll write like someone is looking for me, Robert Benson, and I will put my address and
you can write to me there and let me know how to find you. You’ll have to mail off for a subscription.” He turns to the front and shows me where to send my money. “If you answer the advertisement, we’ll be able to find each other. You can write, can’t you?”

“Of course I can write,” I snap. “Pauline taught me how.”

He reaches over and hugs me. I hug him back for a very long time. I am glad he has learned how to hug a girl, and I am very, very glad his arms are not barn boards anymore.

“Come on,” he says, looking up. “Running makes everything better. You’ll see. It helps put things in place.”

35

Saturday is the best day of the week for traveling shows like ours. If crowds are going to come, they will come on a Saturday. Not as many folks come on Sunday, on account of it being church day, and the rest of the days of the week everybody is working. But Saturday is show day and Ellis goes all out. It is the worst day to have a birthday. Especially if you are alone.

Every balloon is blown and all the American flags are waving and I get the popcorn started and the taffy for the taffy apples melted. Pete the Alligator Man feeds his alligator extra turkey gizzards so there won’t be any mishaps in the tin tub. Eldora puts on her choir robe and wraps her bright yellow hair in scarves. She shuffles her cards. Ellis walks around and around and around, checking on if Sam the Fat Man is sitting where folks can see him and if Silas Meany is sucking in his stomach far enough. I tie Peabody with enough rope so he can lie on our bedroll or go over and sniff around Pauline’s side of our hauling truck. I hide a few hot dogs so he won’t get bored. “Don’t make a sound,” I warn. “All we need is for Ellis to find you.” He whines into his front paws as I close the curtain behind me and climb down the ladder.

The day starts out fine. There are so many folks waiting for rides on the Tilt-A-Whirl and the merry-go-round and the Ferris wheel that Ellis forgets all about being mad
at Bobby. I can’t keep up with all the hot dogs that folks are wanting and the popcorn keeps running out. And just as I am starting my third batch, that’s when the sky opens up and it starts raining bathtubs of water on top of everyone.

It doesn’t take long until the grounds are a soupy mess and folks are screaming and running home. If there’s one thing about traveling shows, no one wants to come in the rain.

We pretty much all stand around the rest of the day, me and Fat Man Sam and Eldora and Peabody. We are on pins and needles because Ellis is so mad. He lowers the ticket price to a nickel just to get someone in to at least have their fortune read, but even that doesn’t do any good and the show is empty. Ellis makes us all stay on the grounds, so I sit in the hot dog cart, thankful for the little canvas roof. I am afraid to go check on Peabody because Ellis keeps checking on me.

By suppertime the rain stops and Ellis yells, “Places, everyone!” and I fire up the grill and pull my hair over my diamond. Fat Man Sam turns the music up as wives, children, sweethearts, and mamas and aging papas start coming through the gates. They wear galoshes on their feet and yellow slickers and rain hats. They lift their feet like they are high-stepping and hurry over for a hot dog. All the lights are on and the merry-go-round is making its
dee-dee-da-dee
racket and the Ferris wheel is playing “The Farmer in the Dell” over and over. Ellis tells Fat Man Sam to stop sitting and go over and open the Little Pig Race.

And then thunder rumbles. A crooked bolt of lightning strikes and then another and there is a crackling and a
buzzing and all the lights go out. The folks sitting so high on the Ferris wheel start screaming they are stuck at the top and all the folks lined up to see Pete the Alligator Man and Eldora’s Museum of Mystery start running for the entrance and no one can see much except what the stars light up right in front of them so someone knocks into the hot dog cart and all the ketchup and mustard and celery salt go flying. There is another lightning strike and a loud clap of thunder and that’s when I hear my dog start barking.

I throw my apron on the ground and run for my hauling truck, bumping into lots of folks who are running for the road, and they push me and carry me away like I am a twig in a fast-moving tide. I fall and get stepped on and someone kicks my face and all across my diamond. I hold my arms over my head and curl into a ball and get kicked over and over and wait while the sea of folks rush past.

I don’t know how he did it, but Peabody got himself loose, and now he is licking my face. I think about what would happen if he got kicked, being so little and all, and I pull myself up and totter quite a bit as I try and get my balance. For just a moment I think I might see the lady in the orange flappy hat, and then I scoop my dog into my arms and hurry across the grounds to our hauling truck. I race up the ladder and dive on my mattress. I hold Peabody and wrap us inside my bedroll, afraid of the folks running around like it is the end of the world.

More and more lightning strikes and thunder booms and each time my dog howls. “Stop it, Peabody. Ellis will hear.”

We are just dozing off when there is a banging on the outside of our hauling truck.

“You left the hot dog grill on, you little idiot.”

Peabody barks before Ellis gets all the words out. I grab Peabody’s nose and hold his mouth shut. He shakes until I let go. He barks again.

Ellis climbs up the ladder and flings open the curtain. He whips his flashlight all over the inside of the hauling truck. I try and hide me and Peabody in the bedroll. But Peabody is growling like he is a bear.

Ellis comes right over to my bedroll. “Get up and get that food cart cleaned up now. And let me tell you one thing, missy. You have two minutes to get rid of that dog. If I ever see it again, I will toss it in the next river we come to.”

He glares at me and the flashlight makes his eyes yellow. I shake and wait for him to leave. He looks all around the truck, at my bedroll, at Peabody, at the empty place where Pauline used to be.

“Two minutes,” he says again. He stomps off and something inside of me cracks and something inside of me snaps and I know right then and there that I need a new plan for my life.

36

It is heartbreaking to say goodbye to a pig, especially one as fine as Cordelia. She nuzzles your neck and looks you in the eye all soft, like she just knows what you are thinking, and she does not like it at all.

I scratch her backside for a long time and rub her neck and itch the places on her head she likes itched so well. I look in her eyes. I do not fib and tell her I will be back soon. I tell her the truth.

“It is not safe here for Peabody. That’s why we are leaving.” I pick up the stick Bobby kept for back scratching and find all her itchy spots. She likes it especially well. She keeps coming back for more.

“If leaving is a bad idea, I will know it pretty quick and then I will think of another plan.” I tell Cordelia this in between kisses on her face.

I cut a piece of rope and tie it to Peabody’s collar. We have never run on the road but if we are going to find a home, it’s the only way. Already Peabody is squirming and pulling at the rope because if there’s one thing about him, he does not like getting tied up.

Cordelia is sticking her head through the slats in the pen, watching. I go over and scratch her one more time and bend down and kiss her on the face. “I will find you when I get settled.” I look her in the eye and feel my tears well up.