In Search of a Memory (Truly Yours Digital Editions) (9 page)

“When is ‘then’?”

“Early evening. Not much sense performing while the kiddos are in school and the parents at work, those lucky enough to have jobs. We spend the mornings and afternoons rehearsing and working on new acts. On weekends we open in the early afternoon. I’ve found that every circus or carnival is different, each employing their own set of rules. And about those men you’ll be working for—Pearson’s a bit of a stickler, but Mahoney’s a peach.” She grinned. “He can be all bark and bluster, but he’s really a sweetheart once you know him.”

Inside their railcar, Angel changed into the denim trousers Cassandra lent her. She rolled them up at the ankles and belted them around her waist with a rope. Cassandra also lent her a man’s work shirt. “Father gives me his cast-offs. No sons to bequeath them to.” Cassie laughed, also tossing Angel a pair of flat-heeled shoes she had an extra pair of, which fit Angel surprisingly well.

As they left the railcar, Angel acknowledged the change felt better, warmer, and she didn’t feel so out of place wearing men’s clothes with Cassie dressed the same. Of course, had Aunt Genevieve seen her in anything other than a skirt or dress, she would have had a conniption fit. Angel smiled a little rebelliously at the thought, a smile that disappeared as both girls suddenly came face-to-face with Roland and a shorter man with laughing eyes.

Roland glanced at Angel’s changed attire but didn’t say a word. She wasn’t sure if he approved or not, not that she cared.

“Hey, Cassie,” the other man said. He stood as tall as she.

“Chester.” Her greeting seemed shy.

“I was just taking Roland on a tour of the grounds.”

“Funny. I was doing the same with Angel.”

Barely glancing at Angel, he nodded in greeting. His eyes seemed hopeful as they again went to Cassie. “Well then, how about we go as a group? That way if one of us forgets something, the other can fill in.”

Cassie darted a quick look around then nodded with an open smile. “Let’s do that.”

Angel’s stomach dropped to her toes at this new arrangement. She couldn’t exactly protest, since she did need to know the area and Cassie obviously wanted Chester to walk with them. During the next few minutes, however, the two leaders gravitated several feet ahead, walking together and leaving Roland and Angel to follow.

“I think they forgot about us,” Roland said in amusement after minutes passed without either Cassie or Chester pointing out some attraction or sideshow tent along the midway, giving the new workers no more information.

“It does look that way.” Her words came guarded.

He gave her a sideways glance. “I solemnly swear, on a stack of Bibles if you’d like, that I had nothing to do with this.”

“No need to. This isn’t a courtroom.” She couldn’t help but see the irony, though. No matter which direction she chose to run to rid herself of his company—a closed door, storming away, sneaking off a train—somehow she always ended up back in his path. “But you can’t say the same about finding work here. You meant to choose this place.”

He hesitated. “You’re right. I did.”

“Then you admit it. You
are
following me.” She stopped walking and whirled to face him in accusation.

He gave a gentle tug to her elbow. “Come on. We don’t want to get left behind. They’d never know we were missing.” They resumed their walk, and he released his light hold.

“Well?” she insisted after a few steps.

“What do you want me to say, Angel?” He sounded frustrated. “I wanted to make sure you were safe, especially after seeing those young thugs go after you. I know I said all this before, and call it none of my business, but finding you in my car and alone on the train, somehow that made it my business.”

“I don’t need a bodyguard.”

“I don’t think you know what you need.”

Offended, she glared at him. “That’s an incredibly judgmental statement to make, since you hardly even know me.”

“You’re right. But if we’re going to talk snap judgments, you’ve done your fair share. Don’t judge my character just because of my name, Angel. I’m not the terrible, preying villain you’ve made me out to be.”

“You sure don’t mind throwing your last name around to achieve your purpose!” She felt a little ashamed when she realized he’d done so only to help her, but she couldn’t seem to back down.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m glad you brought that up. I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell anyone who I am. I’m just Roland here.”

“Then you intend to stay?” She couldn’t hide her distress. “There’s really no need. These people are nice. Cassie,

Chester, Mahoney. I don’t think I’ll find trouble among this bunch, so don’t feel obligated to remain on my account.”

“Can we not argue, for once? We were coming close to getting along together on the train. Can we go back to that moment?”

“That was before you made me your personal mission.” And before she learned he was a gangster. “I’m still not entirely sure of your motives.”

“Okay.” He released a weary sigh, throwing his hands up in defeat. “I confess. Joining the carnival did start out as a means to watch out for you, maybe even to get to know you better—”

“I knew it!”

“But that wasn’t the sole reason. There’s more to it than that.”

She regarded him with skepticism. “How so?”

“I did a lot of thinking last night. You didn’t ask what I was doing on the train, and I evaded your cousin’s question about why I was in your hometown. Now I’ll tell you, strictly in confidence, being as how only you know who I am and I’d like it to stay that way. But you must never tell anyone what I’m telling you. Do you understand, Angel? It’s for your own good.”

A sense of excitement mingled with dread at his overtly clandestine attitude made her nod slowly. She half expected a car of gangsters to suddenly careen into view, tommy guns firing.

He remained silent for so long she thought at first he had changed his mind about telling her. Their pace slowed, until they were even farther behind their tour guides and well out of earshot.

When he looked at her again, his expression was somber.

“I went there to visit the family of one of my grandfather’s victims. A man who once worked for him. I went to see his wife.”

Her eyes grew wide. “Who?” She scoured her brain for all those in their small community who’d recently lost loved ones but struck a blank.

He shook his head slowly, his eyes grave, making it clear he wouldn’t reveal that information. “For a long time I’ve wished to cut myself from the organization, from the family itself, but it’s been nothing more than a hopeful desire and empty words on my part. Grandfather never believed I would follow through, and he was right. I tried to break away before but made halfhearted attempts at best. The life I led, it’s all I know.” He frowned. “Lately, more and more, I’ve detested what my family stands for and faced some hard choices. Do I turn a blind eye to the horror they generate and embrace the organization as I’ve been trained? Or do I listen to what’s in my heart, telling me that such loyalty holds too steep a price, amounting to no good and leading only to regret, sorrow… and death.”

Angel listened, sensing his pain ran deep. For the first time since they’d met, she felt a strange connection to Roland, who also suffered through his family for being different, and she sympathized with what he must have undergone and was still going through.

“I was on the train because I was also running, but God only knows where I was going. I sure didn’t. Without my family’s knowledge, I’d just met the young widow of the man my grandfather had bumped off for money owed. The poor man had three kids with one on the way. He was a dope for getting involved with my grandfather in the first place, but his widow is the one suffering. The whole stinking affair made me question if I wanted to return and take my so-called rightful place in the organization, as has been expected of me since I was born.”

Wetness shone in Roland’s eyes, and he hastily averted his gaze, blinking furiously. Moments passed before he again spoke.

“Then I met you. Courageous, full of purpose, ready to take off alone in the night in a bold move to change what life threw your way. I may not agree with your methods, but I admire your spirit and independence, even envy it. You made a decision and were determined to follow through, no matter the obstacles. Watching you gave me courage to make my own getaway from family expectations, from the family itself.”

She sensed him look at her. “I want to start over, Angel. To become my own man and somehow, if it’s even possible, to redeem my family name. I never plan to spend another cent of their blood money, and that’s one of two reasons I found a job here. I need the income, and they would never think to look for me at a carnival.”

She snapped her focus his way. “You’re in danger?” she whispered. “If they find you? Oh, but—surely your own family wouldn’t harm you!”

His mouth tightened in a grim line. “My grandfather has a warped sense of right and wrong. A breach of loyalty to him and the organization is the same as treason to a king, even if it’s morally the right thing to do. A cousin was rubbed out for having thought to be a squealer.” His words grew vague, slow, as if he were speaking to himself and had forgotten her. She wondered if he’d ever aired his concerns to anyone before now. Somehow she doubted it and felt both honored and apprehensive that he confided in her.

He jerked out of his solemn musings and gave her a tight smile. “Grandfather would never believe I’d be working with a traveling carnival heading in the opposite direction from where I last told him I was going. Besides, he and his men wouldn’t be seen dead in a place like this. Operas are his form of amusement, and nightclubs are his men’s.”

“But what if the troupe heads to New York City and someone recognizes you there? What then?”

“According to Chester, the carnival is traveling north through Connecticut. But if that day ever comes, if the train heads for New York, I’ll figure out a plan of action then.”

She nodded, trying to sort through the startling weight of his disclosure.

“Hey.” He stopped and pulled her around to face him, resting his hands lightly on her shoulders. “I didn’t tell you any of this to upset or worry you. You’re safe, even if they find me, which they won’t. I only told you to set your mind at ease that I’m really not stalking you and do have a good reason for being here. Okay?”

She returned his faint smile. “I’m not sure. Does this mean you’ve finally quit your job as my guardian angel?”

He snorted in mild displeasure at the term, dropping his hands to his sides. “An angel? No. But you could do worse than have me for a bodyguard. I’ve been trained all my life to be alert and cautious, among other things.” He didn’t elaborate, and she decided she didn’t want to know.

“I suppose then, it’s okay,” she said on a mock sigh. “But I really can take care of myself.” She couldn’t resist the reminder, and he laughed.

Shivers danced along her spine at the warm, spontaneous sound. For a reason she couldn’t grasp, especially after such grim revelations, she felt buoyant as they caught up to their hosts. Chester and Cassie once again remembered they had company and turned to tell Roland and Angel about the next attraction.

Upon seeing the sideshow tent and the banner above it, Angel froze.

Roland wondered what had happened. One minute they were finally talking on companionable terms, and the next, Angel seemed to have turned to stone.

“Are you all right?” he asked in confusion.

“Fine,” she whispered, her eyes on the banner that hung high and spread from one end of the wide tent to the other. “Just… fine.”

Roland looked up at the painted caricatures displaying all manner of human oddities lined up in a row, six of them, from a tattooed man covered in pictures and piercings to a pair of Siamese twins joined at the shoulder.

“The Human Freak Show,” Chester read. “One of the carnival’s main attractions. That and Cassie’s act probably bring in the most money.”

“More’s the pity,” Cassie intoned. “It’s a shame to parade people around as if they were nothing more than animals.”

Angel threw a swift look her way but didn’t respond.

“I never noticed any of them at the cookhouse tent,” Roland observed.

“They don’t eat with the rest of us, except for Jim the Giant—the tall man who sat at our table,” Chester explained. “He stands at near seven feet and sure is handy when I need something retrieved that’s out of reach. I’m a tad on the short side, you might have noticed,” he joked. “A likable fellow, Jim. Don’t know the others. The man in charge of the sideshow keeps them hidden for the most part. He has a black soul, I’d wager, and doesn’t treat them at all well.”

“Then why do they stay?” Angel’s words were hoarse. She stared at the tent.

“My guess is they have no other way to make a living. They’re ridiculed by society and, especially in these hard times, wouldn’t risk leaving a place that offers sure room and board. Back in the nineteenth century, things were worse. Their kind were thought of as monsters and put in cages. Some of them were even hunted down and killed.”