“How do I know she’s really your daughter?” he said to Momma. Then he put his hand—it was fleshy and damp—beneath Lilly’s chin and lifted her face. She held her breath, unable to pull her eyes away from his, waiting to see his reaction. For what seemed like forever, she stared at him. What was he going to do? Why wasn’t he afraid? At the same time, she couldn’t help examining the face of the only person, besides Momma and Daddy, she’d ever seen up close. To her surprise, his expression remained calm. No shock or fear showed in his eyes. Maybe he was used to monsters.
“How dare you question me,” Momma said. “I signed the papers, didn’t I?”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” the man said.
“If you’re accusing me of lying,” Momma said, “I’ll leave this instant and take her with me.”
The man shut off the flashlight. “It wouldn’t be the first time someone tried passing a kid off as their own.”
“Well, I can assure you,” Momma said. “I’m telling the truth. I’m a God-fearing Christian and I—”
The moon-faced man laughed and Viktor the monster laughed with him.
“Is there something funny about that?” Momma said.
The moon-faced man waved a hand in the air, still grinning. “No, not at all. I’m sure God is happy to know you’re not lying about this girl being your daughter.” He glanced at Viktor and rolled his eyes. “I just need to know one more thing. Is your husband aware of our agreement?”
Momma nodded. “My husband is not long for this world. And Lilly has been nothing but a cross to bear since the day she was born.”
Lilly frowned at Momma. What did “not long for this world” mean? Whatever it was, it sounded bad.
The man leaned forward and fixed his eyes on Lilly’s. “Tell me the truth, little girl, or you’ll be sorry. Is this woman your mother?”
Lilly thought about saying no, but she wasn’t sure who would be more mad, the moon-faced man or Momma. She nodded once and stepped back.
“Good,” he said. “We wouldn’t want anyone accusing me of stealing you.”
Lilly’s chin quivered and she turned toward Momma, who still held her wrist in an iron grip. “Where’s my daddy?”
Momma ignored her. “Do we have a deal, then?” she said to the man.
Lilly’s chest grew tighter and she grabbed at her throat. She couldn’t get air. “Please, Momma,” she gasped between breaths. “I promise to be good . . . from now on. I’ll read the Bible and . . .”
The man grabbed Lilly’s chin and shined the flashlight in her eyes again. He squinted and turned her head from side to side, blowing his hot, sour breath over her face. Lilly tried to pull away, but couldn’t. “What’s wrong with her?” the man said. “Is she sick?”
Momma shook her head. “No, she has trouble breathing when she’s upset, that’s all. It’ll pass.”
“If she turns up dead in the next few months,” the man said, “I’ll come back for my money. And it won’t be pretty.”
“If you’re not interested,” Momma said, “the Ringling Brothers are coming to Albany next week. I’m sure they can pay more anyway.”
With that, the man scowled and let go of Lilly’s chin. He gestured once and the monster moved forward, grabbed her by the arms, and dragged her away from Momma. Lilly screamed and twisted and kicked, trying to break free.
“Momma . . . please . . . !”
Momma acted like she didn’t hear her.
“Don’t . . . touch . . . me . . . !” Lilly said. She kicked the monster’s legs as hard as she could.
He grunted, spun her around, clamped a giant hand over her mouth, and held her against his stomach, one sweaty arm across her chest. Lilly dug at his skin, trying to get him to let go. It was no use. She stared at Momma, struggling to breathe, her wide eyes filled with terror and tears.
The moon-faced man took a shiny clip from his pocket, pulled a stack of money from it, and held the money out to Momma. “It’s all there,” he said. “Count it if you want.”
“One more thing,” Momma said. “Don’t ever come back here. I’m not leasing land to any more circuses.”
“Understood.”
Momma took the money and counted it.
Lilly tried to yell and scream, to beg her mother not to leave her there, but the only noise she could make was a strangled, high-pitched wail.
Momma stood for a moment, her eyes locked on Lilly, the money in her fist. “It’s for the best,” she said, and walked away.
CHAPTER 4
JULIA
After the breakfast rush at Big Al’s Diner was over, Julia went into the restroom and locked the door. She sat on the closed toilet lid and, with trembling fingers, opened the envelope from the private investigator hired by her mother’s lawyer. The letter read:
FROM THE OFFICE OF
SCOGNAMIGLIO & CARR
ATTORNEYS AT LAW
Dear Miss Blackwood,
It is with sincere sympathy that I regret to inform you of the passing of your mother, Coralline Livingston Blackwood, on September 21, 1955. As your parents’ attorney, it is my duty to notify you that your mother’s last will and testament has been read and, as the only living child of Coralline and Howard Blackwood, you are the sole heir of their entire estate.
Blackwood Manor Horse Farm has continued to function under the careful supervision of your parents’ barn manager, Claude Miller, and a local veterinarian, Fletcher Reid. Although a number of horses were sold before your mother’s passing, it was your mother’s express wish that these men continue to be paid until you were found and could take over, or until the estate ran out of money. Fortunately, due to your father’s astute business sense and careful financial planning, your parents’ estate should be monetarily viable for many, many years. With that being said, Blackwood Manor Horse Farm is rightfully yours should you choose to claim it. However, there is one condition. To become the rightful owner of Blackwood Manor and the financial benefits included herein, you must return home and reside on the property. Please contact my office immediately so we can see to it that the proper paperwork is signed.
Thank you for your time. I hope to hear from you soon.
Sincerely,
Wallace Carr
Julia stared at the letter for what seemed like forever, trying to let the words sink in. Mother had been dead for a year. And she was the sole heir to Blackwood Manor. She started to shake, shocked and slightly saddened that her mother was gone—had died nearly a year ago in fact—and she had no idea. Weren’t family members supposed to know when a relative died? Weren’t they supposed to feel a sudden, tremendous loss when a loved one passed from this earth? Then she remembered she had been swimming with friends when her father died. She had felt happy and carefree, ignorant of the fact that the one person who seemed to love her had been killed in a car crash. Maybe family members only sensed one another’s passing when they shared genuine love and true affection.
Her eyes flooded. She was officially an orphan now. Her mother and father were gone. And yet, she grieved something else even more—a loving family. But how could you miss something you never had?
Someone knocked on the restroom door. “You in there?” It was Sheila.
“Be right out,” Julia said.
She wiped her cheeks, put the letter back in the envelope, and stood on rubbery legs. She stuffed the envelope in her apron pocket and looked at herself in the cracked mirror above the sink. How could she return to Blackwood Manor, with its bad memories and closely guarded secrets? Then again, how could she stay here?
CHAPTER 5
LILLY
Following the moon-faced man, Viktor the monster held Lilly to his chest, his sweaty hand clamped over her mouth, and carried her toward the train. Lilly kicked and twisted and tried to scream, but she could hardly breathe and she was starting to grow weak. The monster held her tighter. When they reached the train, he hauled her up a set of steps between two boxcars and waited. An oil lamp hung from a hoo
k outside the boxcar door. The moon-faced man took the lamp from the hook, slid open the entrance, and led them inside. Goats and llamas filled the pens on one side of the car, and bales of hay and stacks of burlap bags lined the other.
Viktor followed the moon-faced man to the end of the aisle and waited for him to open a metal cage. When he loosened his hand over her mouth and bent over to push her inside, she bit down on his palm as hard as she could. He yelled and let go. She twisted in his arms and almost got away, but the moon-faced man grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and shoved her into the cage. She stumbled, fell, and landed on her hands and knees. Viktor slammed the door shut and the moon-faced man locked it with a padlock, swearing under his breath.
Filthy straw lined the bottom of the cage, and a horrible smell filled her nostrils. She scrambled on her knees over to the door and hooked her fingers through the bars, wheezing and gasping for air.
“Let me out!” she screamed.
“Sorry, sugar,” the moon-faced man said. “I just paid hard-earned money for you. And in case you haven’t figured it out yet, you belong to me now.”
“Please!” she cried. “I want to go home!”
He laughed. “You are home, and I’m your legal guardian now.”
Lilly gagged and tried to catch her breath. This had to be a nightmare. It had to be. Why would Momma do this to her? Why? “No . . . my daddy . . . my daddy will come get me.”
“I’m afraid not, little one. Your daddy is dying and your mother signed the papers. It’s all legal.”
“That’s not true!” she said. “My father is in Pennsylvania. He’s coming back tomorrow... and when he does, he’ll be looking for me!”
“Believe what you want if it makes you feel better, but that’s not what your mother said.”
Lilly let go of the bars and slumped in the cage, too weak to sit up. “What are you . . . What are you going to do to me?”
“When I decide, you’ll be the first to know.” He picked up the oil lamp, started to walk away, and signaled Viktor to follow.
“Please,” Lilly cried. “I’m begging you. Please. Let me out.”
“Want me to stay here and keep an eye on her, boss?” Viktor said. His voice was low and gravelly, as if his throat were full of rocks.
“No,” the moon-faced man said. “She’s not going anywhere.” He made his way toward the other end of the boxcar.
Lilly screamed until she ran out of breath and her throat felt like it was on fire. The goats and llamas bleated and pawed at the insides of their stalls.
The moon-faced man came back and glared at her. “Scream all you want,” he said. “No one will hear you. And if they do, no one cares.”
He kicked the cage and disappeared down the aisle. Viktor went with him. The boxcar door opened and slammed shut, and the inside of the car was plunged into blackness. Lilly pulled in a shaky breath and screamed again, rattling the cage with her hands. She reached through the bars and yanked on the padlock with every ounce of strength she had left. It was no use. The lock was too strong. She screamed until her throat was raw, then collapsed in the straw, gasping for air. Her elbows and knees felt smeared with dirt, and the sharp tang of urine burned her nostrils. She curled up in a ball and sobbed, tears and sweat coursing down her cheeks.
For as long as she could remember, she had wanted to see the outside world. Now, she’d give anything to go back to Blackwood Manor. Please, God, she prayed. If Momma comes and gets me, I’ll do everything she says. I’ll pray ten times a day and memorize the Bible verses. I’ll get rid of my dolls and books and do whatever she wants. No more daydreaming, no more asking for a window that opens. I love Momma and I’m sorry for being bad. Please, God, please. I’ll do anything. I miss my daddy and Abby.
She pictured her cat curled up on her bed, waiting and wondering why she had left her all alone. The thought of Abby being sad and thinking she had deserted her was almost more than she could take. What would happen to Abby now? Who would feed her and love her and pet her? Not Momma. Momma didn’t like cats. Then she imagined Daddy going upstairs to surprise her with a birthday present and finding her bedroom empty. He would want to know where she was. And after Momma told him what she had done, he would race over to the circus train to rescue her.
If Momma told the truth.
If Daddy wasn’t dying.
With that thought, something turned over beneath Lilly’s rib cage, and a horrible, heavy pain exploded inside her chest. All of a sudden, she knew she was going to be sick. She turned on her side and threw up, coughing and gagging on her own vomit. She spit over and over, then wiped her mouth and lay back. Her eyelids felt heavy. Her pulse thundered in her ears. She felt dizzy, like that time Daddy had to put mustard and warm dressings on her chest for three days. Then the world spun out of control and went black.
* * *
A shrieking whistle startled Lilly awake. She didn’t know where she was or how long she had been sleeping.
“Daddy?” she cried in a weak voice. “I’m over here, Daddy!”
A dim light filtered in through the slats in the walls and fell over the metal bars of a cage. Straw stabbed her arms and legs, and the low thud of a powerful engine sounded in the distance. Then it all came back to her.
She was locked in a cage on a circus train. And Daddy wasn’t here.
Lilly’s eyes flooded and she sat up, her throat and chest burning, her neck stiff. When she could take a breath without coughing, she got to her knees and brushed herself off. Every muscle in her body hurt, her skin itched, and she had to go to the bathroom. Her belly felt like it was about to explode. She gathered the skirt of her dress around her waist, pushed her underwear to her knees, and squatted in a corner of the pen. Pee ran down the inside of her leg into one of her shoes. Now, not only was she dirty and cold, she smelled bad too. Using the already filthy straw, she did her best to wipe off her leg, then pulled her underwear up and sat in the opposite corner, counting the bars of the cage and trying not to cry.
The goats and llamas were lying down in their stalls, sleeping or munching hay. She peered between the slats in the boxcar and tried to look outside, but couldn’t see anything. Somewhere a whistle screeched. Then the boxcar shuddered and lurched forward with a jolt, and the train rattled forward along the tracks. The llamas and goats got to their feet and nervously looked over their stall doors. Lilly gripped the cage bars with shaking hands.
“No!” she screamed. “We can’t leave yet! My daddy is coming to get me!”
Little by little, the train picked up speed and traveled farther and farther away from Blackwood Manor. Lilly fell back on the dirty straw and sobbed, her head bumping against the cage wall. How would Daddy ever find her now? Terror and homesickness washed over her in violent, powerful waves. There was nothing she could do but wait and pray. Then again, Momma always said God would only answer prayers if they were sincere. Lilly had begged God to make Momma come back for her, but she never did. Lilly was still here, locked in this cage. If God didn’t think her prayers were sincere then, when would he?
* * *
After what seemed like a thousand hours, the circus train slowed, groaning against the brakes. The iron wheels caught and screeched, caught and screeched, and the pistons hissed longer and louder. Finally, the train came to a shuddering stop, and the shriek of releasing steam pierced the air. The goats and llamas stood and swayed on unsteady legs. Lilly sat up, trembling and scared and cold.
Outside, iron latches lifted, doors slid open on their tracks, and men talked and shouted. Ramps and chutes clattered to the ground. When the side door to the boxcar slid open, Lilly moved to the back corner of the cage and curled up in a ball, trying to make herself smaller. Sunlight burst into the car, revealing floating dust and hay chafe, and the outside sounds got louder. She squinted against the light and put her hands over her ears, shaking all over. The shape of a man appeared in the doorframe and climbed into the car. He stretched and yawned, then went over to one of the pens
and looked inside. Gray stubble covered his weathered face, and a faded black derby sat tilted back on his head. He scratched one of the llamas behind the ears, then moved down the center aisle to check the other stalls. When he came to the one across from Lilly, he leaned over the door, his back to her.
Lilly crawled forward and clutched the cage bars in her hands. “Hello?” she said in a quiet voice.
The man startled and spun around. When he saw her, his eyes went wide. “Jumpin’ Jesus!” he said. “Who the hell are you?”
“I’m Lilly,” she said. “Can you let me out? Please?” She watched his face, waiting to see if he was afraid of her.
“What in tarnation are you doing in there, kid?”
Her heart thumped so hard inside her chest she could barely speak. Was he pretending not to be afraid, like Daddy pretended? Or was he brave because she was in a cage? She swallowed and found her voice. “They put me in here.”
The man took off his hat and scrubbed an age-spotted hand across his balding head. “Who put you in there?”
“A man with a moon face and a ponytail and someone called Viktor. He was . . . he was . . .” A burning lump filled her throat and she couldn’t go on.
“A monster?”
She nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks.
The old man put his hat back on and straightened, his brow furrowed. He stood for a moment, scratching his neck and thinking, then hurried over to the open boxcar door and yelled out, “Hey, Dante, come over here a minute, will ya?”
A few seconds later, a big man with a red beard climbed into the boxcar. “What’s going on, Leon?”
Leon pointed at Lilly and grinned, revealing crooked yellow teeth. “Look what we got here.”
Dante knelt down and peered into the cage. “Well, well, what do you know,” he said. “Looks like we got us a little stowaway.” He smiled and put his fingers through the bars to touch her hair. She scrambled backward into a corner, frightened and surprised at the same time. Maybe Momma was right. Maybe circus people were used to monsters.
The Life She Was Given Page 5