Water for Elephants

COURTESY OF TIMOTHY TEGGE, TEGGE CIRCUS ARCHIVES, BARABOO, WISCONSIN

Eighteen

I catch up with them as Marlena slides down from Rosie’s head.

“You were brilliant! Brilliant!” says August, kissing her on the cheek. “Did you see that, Jacob? Did you see how brilliant they were?”

“Sure did.”

“Do me a favor and take Rosie around, would you? I’ve got to go back inside.” He hands me the silver-tipped cane. He looks at Marlena, sighs deeply, and claps a hand to his breast. “Brilliant. Simply brilliant. Don’t forget,” he says, turning and walking a few strides backward, “you’re on with the horses right after Lottie.”

“I’ll get them right now,” she says.

August heads back to the big top.

“You were spectacular,” I say.

“Yes, she was good, wasn’t she?” Marlena leans over and plants a loud kiss on Rosie’s shoulder, leaving a perfect lip print on the gray hide. She reaches out and rubs it with her thumb.

“I meant you,” I say.

She blushes, her thumb still on Rosie’s shoulder.

I regret saying it instantly. Not that she wasn’t spectacular—she was, but that wasn’t all I meant and she knew it and now I’ve made her uncomfortable. I decide to beat a hasty retreat.

“, Rosie,” I say, motioning her forward. “, moj malutki pczuszek.”

“Jacob, wait.” Marlena lays her fingers on the inside of my elbow.

In the distance, right at the entrance to the big top, August stops and stiffens. It’s as though he sensed the physical contact. He turns around slowly, his face somber. Our eyes lock.

“Can you do me a favor?” Marlena asks.

“Sure. Of course,” I say, glancing nervously at August. Marlena hasn’t noticed that he’s watching us. I place my hand on my hip, causing her fingers to fall from my elbow.

“Can you bring Rosie to my dressing tent? I have a surprise planned.”

“Uh, sure. I guess so,” I say. “When do you want her there?”

“Take her there now. I’ll be along in a bit. Oh, and wear something nice. I want it to be a proper party.”

“Me?”

“Of course you. I’ve got to do my act now, but I won’t be long. And if you see August ahead of time, not a word, okay?”

I nod. When I look back at the big top, August has disappeared inside.

ROSIE IS PERFECTLY AGREEABLE to the unusual arrangement. She plods along by my side to the edge of Marlena’s dressing tent and then waits patiently as Grady and Bill untie the bottom of the sidewall from the stakes.

“So, how’s Camel doing, anyway?” asks Grady, crouching down and working on a rope. Rosie reaches out to investigate.

“About the same,” I say. “He thinks he’s getting better, but I don’t see it. I think he doesn’t notice as much because he doesn’t have to do anything. Well, that and he’s usually drunk.”

“That sure sounds like Camel,” says Bill. “Where’s he getting liquor? It is liquor, ain’t it? He ain’t drinking that jake shit no more, is he?”

“No, it’s liquor. My bunkmate’s taken a shine to him.”

“Who? That Kinko guy?” says Grady.

“Yup.”

“I thought he hated working men.”

Rosie reaches out and takes Grady’s hat. He turns around and swipes at it, but she holds it high. “Hey, would you keep your bull under control?”

I look into her eye, which twinkles back at me. “!” I say sternly, although I’m finding it hard not to laugh. Her great ear waves forward and she drops the hat. I stoop to retrieve it.

“Walter—Kinko—could use some softening around the edges,” I say, handing the hat back to Grady, “but he’s been real decent to Camel. Gave up his bed for him. Found his son, even. Talked him into meeting us in Providence to take Camel off our hands.”

“No kidding,” says Grady, stopping and looking at me in surprise. “Does Camel know this?”

“Uh . . . Yeah.”

“And how did he take it?”

I grimace and suck the air in through my teeth.

“That well, huh?”

“It’s not like we had a lot of alternatives.”

“No, that you didn’t.” Grady pauses. “What happened wasn’t really his fault. His family probably even knows that by now. The war made a lot of men go funny. You knew he was a gunner, didn’t you?”

“No. He doesn’t talk about it.”

“Say, you don’t think Camel could manage standing in line, do you?”

“I doubt it,” I say. “Why?”

“We been hearing rumors that maybe there’s money finally, maybe even for the working men. Hadn’t given the story much credence up till now, but after what just happened in the big top, I’m beginning to think there might be half a chance.”

The bottom of the sidewall is now flapping free. Bill and Grady lift it, exposing the rearranged interior of Marlena’s dressing tent. There’s a table at one end, with a heavy linen tablecloth and three place settings. The other end of the tent has been completely cleared.

“Where do you want the stake? Over there?” says Grady, gesturing toward the open space.

“Guess so,” I say.

“Back in a sec,” he says, disappearing. A few minutes later he’s back, carrying two sixteen-pound sledges, one in each hand. He slings one through the air to Bill, who looks not even remotely alarmed. He catches its handle and follows Grady into the tent. They pound the iron stake into the ground in a battery of perfectly timed strokes.

I lead Rosie in and crouch on my hams while I secure her leg chain. She leaves that leg planted firmly on the ground, but is leaning hard on the others. When I rise again, I see she is inclining toward a large pile of watermelons in the corner.

“You want us to tie it back down?” says Grady, pointing at the flapping sidewall.

“Yes, if you don’t mind. I don’t think Marlena wants August to know Rosie’s in here till he steps inside.”

Grady shrugs. “No skin off my nose.”

“Say, Grady? Do you think you could keep an eye on Rosie for just a minute? I need to change my clothes.”

“I don’t know,” he says, looking at Rosie with narrowed eyes. “She’s not going to pull her stake out or anything, is she?”

“I doubt it. But here,” I say, walking to the pile of watermelons. Rosie curls her trunk and opens her mouth in a wide smile. I carry one over and smash it to the ground in front of her. It explodes, and her trunk dives instantly into its red flesh. She scoops chunks into her mouth, rind and all. “There’s some insurance,” I say.

I duck under the sidewall and go get changed.

WHEN I RETURN, Marlena is there, wearing the beaded silk dress August gave her that night we had dinner in their stateroom. The diamond necklace sparkles on her throat.

Rosie is munching happily on another watermelon—it’s at least her second, but there are still half a dozen in the corner. Marlena has removed Rosie’s headpiece, which hangs over the chair in front of her vanity. There is now a serving table laden with silver-domed platters and wine bottles. I smell seared beef, and my stomach twists from