The Life She Was Given

by Ellen Marie Wiseman

  “She said Viktor put her in there,” Leon said. He bent over to look at her. “And a man with a moon face and a ponytail.”

  Dante straightened. “Best leave her be, then. We don’t need no trouble.”

  Leon turned away and moved down the aisle. “I’m just here to feed the critters and get them ready to unload.”

  “Please,” Lilly cried. “You can’t leave me here. My daddy is looking for me and I—”

  Leon stopped and glanced back at her, his forehead lined with concern.

  “Were you kidnapped?” Dante said.

  Lilly shook her head. “Momma . . . she . . .” The words caught in her throat.

  “What?” Leon said. He came back and knelt beside the cage. “What’d your mother do, darlin’?”

  Lilly forced the words out. “She took money from the man with the ponytail and left me with him.” She broke down again, shoulders convulsing.

  “I knew Merrick had something to do with this,” Dante said to Leon. “She belongs to him now.”

  Lilly swallowed and gazed at him. “What is he going to do to me?”

  “You mean you don’t know?” Leon said.

  Lilly shook her head, her chin quivering.

  “Merrick runs the sideshow for The Barlow Brothers’ Circus, The Most Amazing Show on Earth,” Leon said. He stood and pulled a bale of hay from the stack, broke it open, and divided it among the goats and llamas. “Looks to me like you just joined the circus, kid.”

  “Leon’s right,” Dante said. “But don’t cry, it’s not so bad. You might like it here.”

  Lilly cried harder.

  Two more men climbed into the boxcar and Dante moved away from the cage. It was Viktor and the moon-faced man with the ponytail.

  “Don’t scare her, now, boys,” the moon-faced man said.

  “Mornin’, Merrick,” Leon and Dante said in unison.

  “Yes sirree, boys,” Merrick said. “The gods are smiling on The Barlow Brothers’ Circus today. Damned if they ain’t, sending us such a splendid young specimen. Isn’t she stunning?”

  The men nodded in agreement, and Merrick and Viktor made their way over to Lilly. She pressed herself against the back of the cage.

  “Let’s get a look at her in the daylight,” Merrick said.

  Viktor unlocked the padlock, knelt down, and reached into the cage. Lilly scrambled into a corner, away from his giant hands. He swore and stuck his head inside, stretching and reaching for her. She kicked him in the face. Her shoe collided with his already mangled nose and she heard a bony crack.

  “Bloody hell!” Viktor yelled. He put his hand to his face and moved backward, out of the cage. Blood trickled over his lips. Then he reached in again, grabbed her by the arm, and yanked her out the door. Lilly twisted and screamed and tried to get away.

  “Don’t just stand there gawking!” Merrick shouted at Dante. “Help him!”

  Dante grabbed Lilly’s other arm and held on. Lilly thrashed and kicked and fought to break free. It was no use. She was no match for two grown men, and her lungs were closing again. She stopped struggling and gasped for air.

  Merrick moved closer, his eyes gleaming. “You’re a fighter,” he said. “That’s good. But I don’t appreciate you kicking my star attraction in the face, even if it’s already a mess.”

  “Let me go!” Lilly shouted. “I . . . want . . . to go home!”

  “I’ll say it one more time,” Merrick said. “You are home. And you might as well learn to play nice, because you’re not going anywhere.”

  “Yes . . . I am,” Lilly cried. “My daddy is coming to get me and . . .”

  “I’m afraid that’s not going to happen, sugar.”

  Lilly coughed and gulped and tried sucking in more air. Then, for some reason, she suddenly remembered that cats hiss and llamas spit when they’re afraid. She took the biggest breath she could muster, closed her mouth to gather her saliva, and spat at Merrick. A white blob landed on his cheek and slid down his face, leaving a wet trail.

  He flinched as if slapped, then reached into his pocket for a handkerchief and, glaring at her, wiped his face. Then, without a word, he went over to the wall and yanked what looked like a short black whip from a nail, his expression getting darker and darker.

  “Turn her around,” he ordered Viktor and Dante.

  “Come on, Merrick,” Dante said. “You don’t have to do this. She’s just scared.”

  “Shut your damn pie hole and do as I say or I’ll have you red-lighted!” Merrick yelled, spittle flying from his lips.

  The men turned Lilly around and held her by the arms. Viktor’s fingers dug into her flesh, but Dante held on with gentle hands. Leon watched with sad, worried eyes.

  “I’m sorry ’bout this,” Dante whispered. “Just do what he says from now on.”

  Then the whip lashed across her back, ripping like fire over her shoulder blades. She arched her back and cried out. Merrick grunted and whipped her again. Once. Twice. Three times. The pain was hot and strong, like the flame on Momma’s lantern. She writhed in agony and something warm ran down the inside of her leg. Her vision started to close in and her knees buckled, but Viktor and Dante held her up. Merrick grunted and she sensed him lifting the whip again.

  Dante moved between them, blocking her body with his. “That’s enough,” he said in a calm voice. “You’re going to kill her.”

  “He’s right,” Leon said. “She’s just a little girl.”

  “Put her back in the cage!” Merrick snarled.

  Viktor dragged her over to the cage and threw her inside. She landed on her back and hit her head. Pain shot up her spine. She rolled on her side in the straw, her shoulders burning and her breath hitching in her chest. Viktor closed the door and slammed the padlock shut.

  Merrick hurled the whip down the aisle and paced the floor, his fists clenched. Then he bared his teeth and kicked the cage, denting it.

  “I’ll leave you in there for as long as it takes,” he said. He pointed at Leon. “Old Leon here can bring you food for weeks. Got it?”

  She nodded and gasped for air.

  “Now you see who’s in charge here?”

  She nodded again.

  “You’ve got a lot to learn, little girl,” Merrick said. “And if you think we’re something to be afraid of, try escaping and see who you run into. There are men out there just waiting to examine someone like you. More than one freak has been cut up and had their brains and body parts pickled and put on display.” He paced the floor again, then stopped and addressed Leon, who had gone back to pulling apart another bale of hay. “Hey, Leon. What do you think the good people of this fine town would do if they saw this young lady wandering around their neighborhood?”

  Leon busied himself putting hay into a stall and avoiding Merrick’s eyes. “I can’t say for sure.”

  “Of course you can,” Merrick said. He smiled a mean, snake-like smile. “Come on, tell Miss Lilly the truth, for her own good.”

  Leon stopped working and eyed Lilly, a sad look on his face. “I suppose the folks in town might be frightened of her. Probably make fun of her too.”

  “That’s right,” Merrick said. “Or some damn fool might try to kill her just ’cause she looks different than they do. Ain’t that right, Leon?”

  Leon shrugged.

  “Come on, old man. Tell Lilly what happened to your daughter.”

  Leon’s shoulders dropped and he gripped the top of a stall door with one hand. He stared at his feet for a long time, then made his way over to Merrick. “He’s right, Miss Lilly,” he said. “It ain’t safe out there for people like you.” His saggy eyes brimmed with tears.

  “Tell her why,” Merrick insisted.

  “’Cause people are afraid of what they don’t understand. My daughter and me, we worked for Merrick and Mr. Barlow for three years. She was the most beautiful bearded woman you ever saw. Her eyes were blue as the sea, her blond hair soft as silk. But she made the mistake of falling in love with a tow
nie and thinking she could live a normal life. I warned her against it and, well, it didn’t work out so good. The other townies weren’t never going to allow a freak to marry one of their own.”

  “Finish the story,” Merrick said.

  Leon pulled a red bandana from his pocket and wiped his forehead and eyes. “A week after the wedding, her husband . . .” He stopped and his face folded in on itself. Then he looked at Lilly, his chin trembling. “Her husband found her tied to the church steps with her face shaved and her throat slit.”

  Lilly swallowed and closed her eyes. The thought of someone slitting someone else’s throat made her feel like throwing up. She remembered seeing Daddy going into the woods with a shotgun and coming out with a string of dead rabbits. He said hunters killed for food, but seeing the rabbits still made her stomach sick. This was worse. Is that why Momma kept in her in the attic? To keep someone from slitting her throat? But what if someone in the circus did it? If Daddy didn’t find her soon, and she couldn’t escape because someone might slit her throat, was she going to spend the rest of her life locked in this cage? Between her burning back and the idea that she was never going home again, it was too much. She put her hands over her face and felt herself going someplace else, someplace where it would all go away.

  Merrick kicked the cage again. “Wake up.”

  She took her hands from her face and struggled to a sitting position. “What . . . What are you going to do to me?”

  “You work for me now,” Merrick said. “I run the sideshow, which is why most people come to the circus anyway. They might bring the kiddies to see the elephants and the lions, but what they really want to see are the freaks. And I have the best around. People will pay good money to see someone like you.”

  “But Momma said people would be afraid of me.”

  “Well, we’ll find out, won’t we? Now, if you’re ready to cooperate, I’ll let you out of that cage. We’ll get you cleaned up and get you something to eat. Sound fair?”

  She nodded.

  “No more biting and trying to escape? No more kicking and screaming? If you try anything, I’ll just lock you back up. Got it?”

  She nodded again.

  “Dante,” Merrick said. “Go get Glory.”

  “Yes, sir,” Dante said. He gave Lilly a worried glance and jumped out of the boxcar.

  Merrick moved toward the center of the car, stood across from the open door and lit a fat cigar. “If you think about it, I’m doing you a favor. Your parents don’t want you, and neither would anyone else. A lot of people look down on carnies. They don’t trust us. But the circus is a place where a person can work for a living even if he’s lost the possessions normal society likes him to have. People try to get a job somewhere else when they’ve lost their moorings, and more likely than not, they’re turned away. Maybe the road is better than whatever they left behind, maybe they’ve got a troubled past, maybe they’re just not cut out for the nine-to-five, or maybe they don’t fit in among decent people.” He took a drag on the cigar, then made his way toward Lilly again, smoke trailing from his lips. “Or maybe their family just don’t want them around. But we take them in, all of them. Even people like you. So you see, it all depends on which side of the fence you’re looking from.”

  Lilly didn’t know anything about sides of fences. The only thing she knew for sure was that she wanted to go home more than anything in the world.

  After a minute or two, Dante returned with a woman wearing a pink skirt, a sparkly, sleeveless blouse, and a pearl headband in her short, wavy hair. Her face looked soft and pink, but the rest of her skin looked as if someone had written all over it with different colored ink. Drawings of lions, angels, crosses, skulls, hearts, and flowers covered every exposed inch of her arms and legs, each image merging with the others to create one continuous design. Lilly couldn’t take her eyes off her. When the woman saw her in the cage, she gasped.

  “Where did she come from?” she said.

  “We picked her up at the last stop,” Viktor said.

  “Picked her up?” the woman said. “What do you mean, picked her up?” She knelt next to the cage and Lilly watched her expression, waiting for her reaction. The only emotion on her face was concern. Maybe she was pretending like everyone else.

  Merrick gave Viktor a withering look. “We didn’t pick her up. We saved her. Just like I saved Viktor from that orphanage, remember?” He gestured toward Lilly. “Glory, meet our newest act.”

  Glory smiled at Lilly and in a gentle voice said, “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

  “I want my daddy,” Lilly said, tears filling her eyes.

  Glory glanced at Merrick and frowned. “Saved her, huh?”

  “Mind your business, Glory,” Merrick said. “It was a legitimate deal and I’m her legal guardian now. So are you going to help me with her, or do I have to get Josephine to do it?”

  Glory stood. “No, keep Josephine away from her. I’ll get her cleaned up and fed.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Merrick said. He jerked his chin at Viktor. “Let her out.”

  Viktor unlocked the padlock, opened the door, and stepped back.

  Glory bent over in front of the cage, smiled, and crooked her finger at Lilly to come out. “It’s all right,” she said. “You don’t need to be afraid.”

  “Watch out,” Viktor said. “She’s a wild animal.”

  Breathing hard, Lilly stared at Glory and tried to decide if she could trust such a strange-looking woman. Except for the odd drawings on her skin—What were they called? She couldn’t remember— Glory looked normal, and her eyes seemed soft and kind. Lilly leaned forward and slowly crawled across the straw toward the door. Glory stepped backward to give her room and Lilly got out and stood. Her head hurt, her legs felt weak and shaky, and the whip marks on her back throbbed with pain. Glory closed the door and held out a hand. Lilly wrapped her arms around herself and moved away, her eyes lowered.

  “Come on, honey,” Glory said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Lilly shook her head. Other than Viktor crushing her to his chest and the men holding her by her arms, the last time anyone had touched her was when she was a little girl, unable to wash and dress herself. Daddy never held her hand or hugged and kissed her, not even on her birthday. When he surprised her with Abby the kitten one year, she was so happy she reached out to hug him, but he drew away. And Momma only hit her. Thinking about her parents, Lilly went limp, as if she were about to collapse in a pile on the floor. Was she ever going to see them again?

  “It’s okay,” Glory said. “You don’t know me yet, but we’ll be friends soon. Just you wait and see.”

  Lilly stared at her, trying not to cry.

  Glory motioned for Lilly to follow her toward the boxcar door. Lilly did as she was told. But when they reached the door, she shrank back, blinking, and put her hands over her ears. The sounds were too loud and the light hurt her eyes.

  A city of tents and people and animals filled a field of brown grass outside the boxcar. The big top lay flat on the ground while men worked all around it, putting the walls together and lacing up seams. An elephant carried long posts curled in its trunk across the lot, while another pushed posts upright with its forehead and the help of workers pulling ropes. Groups of men stood in circles and took turns swinging big hammers over their heads, bringing them back down on tent stakes, pounding them into the ground and filling the air with loud bangs. High poles stuck out from the big top’s center and sides, like a giant bug with a hundred feelers. Men shouted and yelled to be heard above the noise. A group of dark-skinned workers struggled to hang oversized banners in front of a tent across from a row of red-and-white-striped candy apple, popcorn, and hot-dog stands. Draft horses hauled wagons, equipment, and cages filled with monkeys, bears, lions, and tigers around the yard. Red and gold letters on wagons with sunburst wheels read: THE BARLOW BROTHERS’ CIRCUS, THE MOST AMAZING SHOW ON EARTH. Two men on horseback galloped past the boxcar, kicking up clouds
of dust.

  Glory eased over the edge of the door down to the gravel, then smiled up at Lilly. “It’s all right,” she said. “Come on.”

  Lilly didn’t want to, but she took her hands from her ears and climbed down. When she felt something warm on her arms and face, she looked up and squinted. It was the sun. Shielding her eyes with her hand, she looked from horizon to horizon. The sky was bigger than she had ever dreamed. And there were birds, flying like black arrows back and forth over the tents and people. She glanced up and down the railroad tracks. The train was so long she couldn’t see the end. The parts she could see were made up of boxcars, flat cars, and passenger cars with windows. Men and women came out of the passenger cars and boxcars and made their way toward a tent with an orange flag. Next to the tent, a big tank belched steam.

  “After you get her cleaned up and fed,” Merrick said from the boxcar doorway, “bring her back to the train and we’ll show her to Mr. Barlow.”

  Glory nodded and started walking. Lilly followed her away from the railroad tracks toward the lot, staring at the dust clouds kicked up by Glory’s feet, the clumps of grass, the dandelions, and the stones. A bee landed on a dry clover blossom, and a tiny white butterfly flitted past her nose. She nearly tripped three times, unable to take her eyes off everything she was seeing. As they entered the lot, a man went by on horseback and the ground vibrated beneath her feet. The yelling and pounding of stakes grew louder, but she resisted the urge to put her hands over her ears. Every once in a while, one of the workers glanced up at her, and it made her stomach turn over. What if someone wanted to slit her throat? She hunched her shoulders and walked as close to Glory as she could without touching her, trying to make herself smaller. There was so much to see—tents and people and animals and flags and banners and posters—and she didn’t want to miss anything. At the same time, she didn’t want to look. It was too much and too close and too big and too loud.

  “You okay?” Glory said.

  Lilly bit her lip and nodded.

  When they reached a line of tents at the far end of the lot behind the big top, Glory stopped, held open a tent flap, and waited for Lilly to enter. Inside, rows of buckets sat in front of suitcases, trunks, and racks of colorful costumes. Dressing tables and vanities and mirrors lined the back wall. Lilly’s heart leapt in her chest. Was she about to see herself for the very first time? She dropped her eyes, unsure if she should she go over to the mirrors or run out of the tent.