Tim laughed. “But those are just tricks. Nothing but sideshow tricks.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Angel looked from one to the other with a bewildered expression on his face.
Tim spread his tiny hands and shrugged. “I’m sorry, Miss Bradley. What else can I say? In the excitement of the moment, you must have imagined it.” He looked up at Evelyn with a bland expression on his face.
Evelyn frowned, feeling slightly foolish. She was positive she hadn’t been imagining anything, but now she didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t just stand there calling him a liar. She decided the best action was a hasty retreat.
“Hello, down there,” a voice called from the bridge. All three looked up. A plump, middle-aged man stood watching them. “Haverstock’s awake,” he said loudly. “You’d better get back. He’s in a rotten mood as usual.”
Tim tugged at Angel’s trouser leg. “Get him down here,” he commanded when Angel looked at him. Angel was puzzled but motioned for the man to join them. He looked questioningly at them for a moment and started down.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, looking curiously at Evelyn.
“This is Evelyn Bradley, Henry. Miss Bradley, this is Henry Collins; better known as Henry-etta,” Tim explained, his voice tense.
“Hello.” Evelyn held out her hand. “I thought you looked familiar.”
He hesitated and then shook her hand quickly. “How do you do? Angel, you’d better take Tim and get back before he misses you. You know what he’s liable to do.”
“Angel and I have to get back, Miss Bradley. Tell Henry what you thought happened. I’m sure he can convince you that it was your imagination.”
“What happened?” Henry asked, concern edging his voice.
“It was nothing…” Evelyn began, deciding not to go into it again.
“Miss Bradley almost fell in the creek,” Tim said. “Angel caught her just in time, but she seems to think there was something supernatural about it. I’ve warned her not to mention that she’s talked to us. Let’s go, Angel.”
Angel lifted Tiny Tim from the ground and placed him on his shoulder. He smiled at Evelyn and touched his lips with his fingers. He turned and went up the path to the bridge.
Henry watched them go and then turned to Evelyn. “What’s this all about?” he asked with no friendliness in his voice.
Evelyn sighed. “It’s really nothing. I’m sure it was just my imagination.”
Henry nodded. “Very well. Just go on home and forget the whole thing, Miss Bradley. Mr. Haverstock is very strict. We are forbidden to talk to town people. We must make sure he doesn’t find out about this. Your curiosity could get some very nice people in serious trouble. Forgive me for speaking so harshly.”
“No,” she said, looking at her hands, “I understand. But it isn’t just curiosity—at least I don’t think it is. I don’t know…” she finished lamely.
“Oh, I see.” Henry nodded ruefully. “Our beautiful, guileless Angel has smiled and captured another fluttering female heart. It happens in every town. There are usually several trying to sneak into his wagon. So far, none have succeeded.” He snorted fondly. “The poor, dumb thing probably wouldn’t know what to do with them if they did.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Evelyn said with more heat than she had intended. She knew she was overreacting because he had come so close to the truth. She had felt a little like some giddy girl swooning over a movie star.
“Miss Bradley. Angel is… well… don’t be offended; Angel’s friendliness to you means nothing. Angel is… simple. He’s like a puppy that’s been mistreated. Any kindness will cause him to act in that affectionate way. Just like a puppy that wags its tail and licks your hand. It doesn’t mean that he has any special interest in you, it would be the same with anyone. Don’t go getting the wrong idea.”
“I won’t, Mr. Collins.” Her face felt hot and she hoped she wasn’t blushing. Why didn’t he stop talking? She wanted to run, but she wouldn’t do it. She had every intention of retaining as much of her dignity as she could.
“Good,” Henry said in a kindlier voice. “Now run along and don’t say anything to anybody.”
“I won’t. Good-bye, Mr. Collins.” She turned and began climbing the path back up to the bridge. She walked very carefully; she couldn’t see too well through the haze of embarrassment.
“Good-bye, Miss Bradley,” he called after her. “We’ll pack up and be out of town in the morning and you’ll forget all about us.”
Suddenly, to Evelyn, the situation became absurd and very funny. She felt exactly as if she were a lecherous man being warned away from an innocent young girl by her father; a gentle warning, but with threats of greater severity if he persisted. She began laughing. She turned on the path and waved to Henry.
“I doubt it,” she called. “I really doubt it.” She continued up the path, got on her bicycle and rode away, still smiling to herself. She looked back once and saw Henry hurrying toward town.
10.
The tent show slept in the bright morning, waiting for darkness to spring to life with wonders beyond imagination. But there was activity behind the wall of wagons not seen by the curious eyes on the street. One of the six workmen carried a towsack on his shoulder, then emptied oats into a trough within easy reach of the tethered horses. Another entered a wagon with a covered bowl in one hand and a pail in the other.
Medusa sat at a small table, patiently waiting to be fed. She looked at the man and ran her gray tongue over her lips. The snakes on her head writhed and squirmed and squabbled over a captured grasshopper too big to swallow, flicked little red tongues and hissed. A tic in Medusa’s cheek jerked rhythmically.
The roustabout put the covered bowl on the table. She removed the lid and ate the stew clumsily with a spoon.
He took a package wrapped in butcher paper from the pailand dumped fish in the mermaid’s tank. She grabbed them and devoured them greedily, leaving scales and bits of fish flesh to float lazily in the cloudy water.
He tipped the pail over the snake woman’s cage and poured out a chunk of raw meat. It hit the floor of the cage with a bloody thud. The snake woman looked at the man with her startled bird eyes, then stirred her coils and picked up the meat with dainty hands. She nibbled at it fastidiously, swaying slightly.
The roustabout left the wagon and returned to the tent. The sides had been pulled up to let in a faint breeze. He watched the Minotaur and three other roustabouts shoot dice on a blanket for a while. The Minotaur wore a blue chambray shirt and drab moleskin trousers. His hoofs stuck grotesquely from the cuffed bottoms.
The roustabout tired of the crap game and looked at Kelsey Armstrong asleep on a bench. He knew Kelsey had been out last night with a town girl. Kelsey had been with Haverstock nearly a year, longer than any of the other roustabouts. He’d been around so long he was getting careless—or fed up. If Haverstock found out, Kelsey would have his ass in a sling, the man thought. He sighed. Well, Haverstock will find out. He always does, but not from me. I might score a few points, but I don’t want Kelsey on my conscience. He can just be glad it was me who saw him last night and not one of the others.
He lay on another bench and went to sleep.
The Minotaur, finished with the crap game, stood up and stretched. His muscles strained at the fabric of his shirt until it seemed about to split. He rubbed his crotch, trying to ease the ever-increasing ache that centered there. The ache was always with him, always growing until it had to be satisfied. Even then it never went away completely, but nested quietly between his thighs, beginning its growth all over again.