In Search of a Memory (Truly Yours Digital Editions) (18 page)

She sighed dreamily. “Now
that
you can call me till the end of time.”

“We best hurry so we can get back, honey. Bye, Angel!”

They both waved to her and hurried away, hand in hand.

“Bye,” she whispered, and for some foolish reason, she struggled with the insane urge to cry.

Three nights later Roland stopped in front of Angel’s ticket booth, with Chester beside him.

“Oh… hello?” Curiously she glanced from one to the other. Worry suddenly clouded her eyes. “Nothing bad about Cassie?”

“No,” Chester assured her. “She’s fine. Mama thought you’d like to see more of the carnival while it’s in progress, and I’m here to take you and Roland on a tour.”

“What about your own show?”

“I can close this one night. You two have been with us almost a month now, and it’s time you saw the carnival as spectators, not workers. Jezzie’s going to man your booth again.”

“Hi, Angel!” As if on cue, the girl appeared, out of breath. She always seemed to be running to or from somewhere.

“Hi, Jezzie.” Angel handed her the key to the strongbox from the pocket of her skirt. “Thanks for doing this.”

“Oh, I don’t mind. I love working the Hollars’ booth. When there’s a lull, I like to slip in and watch the show. I wish I could do what Cassie does. She’s so good.” It was evident Cassie had a doting fan.

Angel smiled at the girl and turned to Roland and Chester. “I’m ready.”

“Then we’re off!”

Roland held out his hand to her.

Angel looked at his open palm, indecision on her face. In that awkward moment Roland wasn’t sure if he should drop his hand to his side or keep it held aloft and frozen like some ridiculous tailor’s dummy. The seconds seemed endless. Just as he was about to pull away with some pithy wisecrack to cover his embarrassment, she slid her hand quietly into his.

There was absolutely no reason his heart should feel as if it had just risen to his throat and pounded there. At the touch of her soft, warm skin against his own, he felt as if he’d been given a prize far better than anything the carnival could offer.

Chester stood beside Roland, an annoyingly smug grin dancing on his face as they began strolling down the midway.

“Should I ask Cassie to make it a double wedding?” he whispered so Angel couldn’t hear.

“Keep quiet, man.” Roland darted a look at her face, just in case, relieved to see her interest wrapped up in one of the game booths.

The irritating grin did not leave his so-called friend’s face as he began pointing out areas of interest. His previous words, however, lodged deep inside Roland’s heart, and he found himself turning them over a number of times as they walked.
Marriage
? To
Angel
? Would she ever consider such a prospect? Did he want that?

Regardless of Chester’s warning that many games were rigged to deflect the amount of winners, Angel exhibited a desire to visit the dart-throwing booth. “I blew up so many of those balloons I’d like the chance to try to deflate some,” she explained with a grin.

“It’s your nickel.” Chester shrugged. “But I warn you, he uses darts with dull tips.”

The agent behind the counter smiled widely to see Angel and greeted her with sincere preference. She didn’t pop more than one balloon but clearly enjoyed herself in the attempt.

“For you,” the agent said, handing her a small plush lion, one of the top prizes.

“But…” She looked at the toy in confusion. “I didn’t win.”

“If not for your help, I would have had to blow up all them confounded balloons myself. I may be full of hot air”—he winked—“but I don’t have the lung power for that no more.”

“Thanks, Fletcher.” She awarded him with a sweet smile that made the agent beam.

If the man weren’t at least two decades older than Angel, Roland might have been a little resentful of his focused attention. Who was he kidding? He was. And he had no right to be, which, for some reason, irritated him further.

“The carnival is certainly different from what I expected,” Angel said as they walked away. “My aunt led me to believe it was quite horrifying.”

“The perverse acts you might have associated with carnivals are in the bygone days of its glory,” Chester replied like a true tour guide. “Ever since it’s become more of a family event, things are kept pretty clean. Though you still have your shysters to avoid.” He nodded back to the game booths.

They ate hot dogs and pretzels and popcorn until no one had room for more.

“Want to try the rides?” Chester motioned to the lot where the Ferris wheel stood. Angel’s attention fixed on a covered musical dais with gilded horses.

“I love the carousel,” she said wistfully then laughed, placing a hand to her flat stomach. “But right now I don’t think I could stand anything in motion.”

They continued down the midway and ran into Blackie and Ruth selling balloons. Blackie gave Angel a blue one, refusing to take her penny, and the clownish duo went into one of their performances, drawing a crowd. Angel laughed so hard Roland noted tears coming out of her eyes. Afterward Blackie passed around a hat that several threw coins into, and Roland did as well. It had been worth the dime, and more, to see Angel happy.

A trip to the crazy house of mirrors and a sack of peanuts shared rounded out their fun, when suddenly Angel stopped, as though frozen.

“Angel?”

She stared, and Roland followed her line of vision. His heart clenched as he recalled the day they had stood before this tent and she’d behaved in the same manner. The human Freak Show, the banner above proclaimed.

The whole spectacle disgusted him. The way these people were treated reminded him of his grandfather’s cold manipulation over others and their inability to break free, acting as marionettes to his callous whims. Roland knew Angel had befriended the people there, and he put a hand to her elbow. “Come on, Angel. We don’t have to see this.”

“No.” A determined expression crossed her face. “I need to.”

Angel knew her reply surprised Roland, but she had to see, had to know. She couldn’t understand her desire, but neither could she quench it.

“Step right up, and see the most amazing creatures to walk the face of the planet. That’s right, folks, we’re going to bring them out here, all for free, just to let you get a peek. Watch the entranceway for the amazing Siamese Twins, the Leprechaun Couple, the Illustrated Man, and that’s not all….” The barker paced the stage, his energy and ballyhoo swiftly bringing in a crowd.

“That’s Tucker.” Chester’s voice became grim. “A seedy fellow. I’ve had dealings with that man. Trust me when I say to steer clear of him.”

Angel had also had dealings with Tucker, none of them pleasant. When she brought Posey and the others their meals, he had tried to rush her off. The first time, she submitted. But his maltreatment of her friends ignited a righteous anger that burned deep, and the next time, she refused to leave, ignoring the ill-mannered beast to stay and talk with the other women and help, usually by stitching up tears or sewing on buttons for any of the performers who needed it. Tucker soon realized she wasn’t the hindrance he thought and allowed her to stay. Angel would have done so without his gruff permission.

“Why do they let him do that to them?” she asked sadly as he spun his thoroughly demeaning ballyhoo for Rita and Rosa, making them sound more like monsters than people, and the two women stepped out of the tent on cue. “
Why
? It’s just not right!”

Chester shook his head; he had no answer. Roland’s eyes filled with sympathetic concern as he regarded Angel. His hand still at her elbow, his thumb caressed her arm through her sleeve. His gesture warmed her, and she sensed he understood her heartache. Yet even he couldn’t begin to comprehend the extent of it.

Was this how her mother had been treated? Forced to stand on a platform as a “peculiar specimen of nature” and made to endure belittling remarks from a crass talker, who poked and prodded, while an insensitive crowd gawked as if she were something less than human? How could she have borne such humiliation, night after night?

Angel’s eyes brimmed with hot tears.

She’d known the sting of scorn and embarrassment from her aunt and cousins, but this was much worse. Perhaps at times her rebellious tendencies invited their nasty behavior. But these people, these friends, had done nothing to warrant such ridicule! Rita and Rosa had been born into a life of poverty. Their parents, had they wanted the twins, couldn’t have afforded an operation to separate them. Why were life and people so cruel? How could Mama allow such a thing to go on at her carnival? How could her own mama have had any spirit left to go on living, especially after her attacker defiled her in the most vicious of ways….

“Angel?”

A tear followed by another rolled down her cheek. She heard Roland’s sharp intake of breath and felt him gather her close, his strong arm around her shoulders, protective and warm. Grateful as she was for his consideration, she felt numb and frozen.

How easily she might have been one of them, up on that platform, raped of all self-worth in the cruel and careless spiel of a barker’s belittling words. And yet, she
was
one of them. Her face and form may have escaped physical imperfection, but in her soul she’d struggled with the contempt of others her entire life. By the bond of blood in being her mother’s child, she identified with Rosa and Rita and others like them more than she did with those who stood on the opposite side and rudely gaped. She felt so utterly alone.

“That’s called building the tip—the crowd,” Chester said solemnly. “Next, he’ll turn the tip, with a ballyhoo to send them running to buy tickets to see more.”

“Let’s get out of here.” Roland moved to draw her away, his arm still around her, but she resisted his gentle pull.

She needed to remain through all of this until the crowd went inside for more, needed to experience what her mother had lived. In that way she hoped to begin to understand the heart of the woman who’d given away her child.

“I’m staying.” She glanced up. In Roland’s eyes she spotted the strength and support she so desperately craved. Not once in his expression had she seen any sign of curious revulsion, apparent on every other face looking toward that awful tent platform.

“Please stay with me?” Her soft request was unnecessary; she knew he wouldn’t leave her. But she needed to hear his answer.

“I’m not going anywhere.” His firm response warmed her cold insides, while making her shiver with uncertainty, for it implied so much more than the here and now, something she wasn’t sure she could ever handle. “I’m here for you, Angel.”

She nodded in gratitude, casting aside all doubt and logic, and her heart clung to his promise.

In one night everything changed.

Roland wasn’t sure what to make of the changes in Angel, but he hoped they would last. Aside from the few kisses he’d been unable to refrain from, he’d made no overtures to a close relationship. And though her nervousness when near him didn’t vanish completely, she was nowhere near as jumpy as she’d been their first week together.