The Life She Was Given

by Ellen Marie Wiseman

  When Julia reached the stall, the blood drained from her face. Bonnie Blue was down in the straw, Samantha Blue on her side next to her belly. Julia held her breath and stared at them to see if they were breathing. They weren’t moving. She was too late. She clamped a gloved hand over her mouth to stifle a sob. Then Blue raised her head and blinked. Samantha Blue woke up, lifted her head, then let it fall against her mother’s belly as if she were too tired to get up. Julia let out a sigh of relief and her thundering heart slowed. Samantha saw her and struggled to stand, her long legs stiff and clumsy, like the limbs of a wooden puppet. Bonnie Blue pulled her hooves beneath her, got to her feet, and shook the straw from her mane. She nickered and came over to the stall door.

  Julia unlocked the stall and went inside. She smiled and gave Bonnie Blue and Samantha a good scratch and a kiss, then used the fireplace poker to break the ice in the water trough. Blue started drinking immediately while Samantha nibbled at the pocket on Julia’s jacket. Julia scratched her between the ears, gave her and Blue another kiss, then went out to get some hay. The other horses whinnied and kicked at their stall doors.

  “Don’t worry,” Julia said to them. “I’m coming.”

  She pulled a bale of hay from the stack near the hayloft ladder and tried breaking the strings with her hands, but they were too strong and tight. She dragged the bale out to the aisle, pushed her foot against it to keep it from moving, and tugged a string from one corner with two hands. She had seen Claude undo a bale that way, but it was harder than it looked. Finally, the string came off and the bale loosened. She yanked the other string off and the bale broke into sections, like a deck of thick cards. She picked up the hay slices and divided them between the stalls, then broke the ice in all the troughs. The horses began to eat and drink right away, then thanked her by nudging her with soft noses, nuzzling her neck, and sniffing behind her ears. Remembering what Fletcher said about horses generating heat by eating hay, she broke up ten more bales and divided them between the horses. When she finished, she stood in the center aisle and looked around, finally warm inside her coat. For the first time in her life, she felt loved and needed.

  “You’re mine,” she said to the horses. “And I promise to do my best to take care of you from now on.”

  Outside, an engine sounded in the distance. It was getting closer. Julia went into the office, scraped a patch of ice off the window, and peered out. A vehicle pulled into the barn driveway, came to a stop, and the driver got out. It was Claude.

  Ever so slowly he made his way toward the office, his arms out as he tried not to fall on the ice. She opened the door to let him in.

  “What are you doing out here?” he said. His scowling face was red from the cold. She couldn’t tell if he was concerned or angry.

  “I came out to check on the horses.” Despite Claude’s sour mood, a smile played around her lips. She had taken care of the horses all by herself.

  Claude harrumphed and went into the barn. She followed.

  “They’re fine,” she said, hoping she sounded confident. “I broke the ice in the troughs and fed them hay. But thanks for coming out.”

  “Just doing my job.” He tromped down to Bonnie Blue’s stall and looked over the door. Julia peered in too. Blue chewed on a mouthful of hay while Samantha nursed, her fuzzy, short tail wagging like a dog’s.

  “Any idea when the power will come back on?” Julia said.

  Claude shook his head. “Nope, it’s out all over.”

  “Do I need to worry about the pipes in the house freezing?”

  “If you think it’ll help.”

  She furrowed her brow. Why did he have to be so ornery? She was starting to wonder if he had always been a man of few words, or if he had something against her. “Is there anything we can do to prevent it from happening?”

  Claude opened the stall door, closed it behind him, and checked Samantha’s navel. “Hope for warmer weather.”

  Julia crossed her arms over her chest. If he wasn’t going to be friendly, maybe she could at least get some information out of him. “Can I ask you something?”

  Claude ran a hand over Blue’s back and checked her bag. “What?”

  “Were you working for my parents when my sister was born?”

  Claude straightened and kept his eyes on the horses, but Julia saw him flinch. It was the tiniest of movements, like a quick startle or a wince from a pulled muscle. Someone else might not have noticed. But she did.

  He ran a hand under Blue’s neck. “I worked for your parents for twenty-seven years.”

  “So you know about my sister.”

  Claude came out of the stall, locked it, and started down the aisle. “I heard Mrs. Blackwood lost a child a few years back.”

  Julia drew in a quick breath and followed him. “Do you know what happened?”

  “Nope.” Claude went into the office, got a bottle of iodine out of the medicine chest, then went back to Blue’s stall.

  She went with him. “But you must know something. Fletcher said you and my father were friends.”

  Claude entered Blue’s stall, got on his knees, and put iodine on Samantha’s navel. “Did he?” He put the lid back on the iodine, got to his feet, and met Julia’s eyes for the first time since his arrival. “Listen, I worked for Mr. and Mrs. Blackwood for a long time. But I have a policy never to get involved in my employer’s personal business.” He dropped his eyes and opened the stall door, practically pushing her out of the way. “And that includes yours.” He went down to the tack room.

  She followed. “I just thought—”

  He stopped and turned to face her. “If you want to help with the horses, that’s fine. They belong to you now. I can’t tell you what to do. But I’ve got to get Blue and her filly out of that stall and put in fresh straw. I don’t have time for gossip.”

  Blood rose in Julia’s cheeks. Suddenly she felt foolish, standing there in her father’s barn coat and oversized boots, the fingers of her gloves flopped over like a child playing dress up. She searched Claude’s face, trying to think of something to say. His eyes looked guarded. She wasn’t going to get anywhere with him. Not today anyway. She’d have to prove herself first. “All right,” she said. “I want to help.”

  He retrieved a miniature halter from the tack room, went back to Blue’s stall, and tried to put the halter on Samantha. At first, she resisted, pulling away her little head and moving backward, her tiny hooves dancing in the straw. Then Claude wrapped an arm around her shoulders and rubbed the halter up and down her neck.

  “It’s all right,” he said in a calming voice. “No one’s going to hurt you. See, it’s just a halter.” He moved the halter over her ears and cheeks as if petting her with it.

  To Julia’s surprise, he sounded gentle and kind. “What are you doing?” she said in a quiet voice.

  “Showing her she doesn’t need to be afraid of the halter by getting her used to the feel of it.” He continued rubbing the halter gently over Samantha’s face while Blue stood watching and eating hay, unconcerned.

  After a few minutes, Samantha let him slip the halter over her head and buckle it. Once it was on, Claude let go. Samantha shook her head and pranced around the stall a few times, then pushed her nose beneath her mother’s belly to nurse. Claude clipped a lead line onto Bonnie Blue’s halter, asked Julia to open the door, and led the mare out of the stall. Samantha followed, her tiny hooves clip-clopping on the cement aisle. After Claude deposited Blue and her filly into another stall, he got a wheelbarrow from the far end of the barn and handed Julia a pitchfork.

  “Might as well learn how things work from the ground up,” he said.

  Julia took the pitchfork and went to work mucking out Blue’s stall. If this was the only way she’d prove herself and get information out of Claude, it was going to be the cleanest stall he’d ever seen.

  CHAPTER 17

  LILLY

  Two days after Cole and Lilly took the bulls swimming in the farm pond, Lilly stood in f
ront of Pepper in the center ring of the big top while Cole watched from a few yards away in the hippodrome, or outer track. Mr. Barlow waited beside him, chewing the end of a fat cigar, his face twisted in irritation. Next to Mr. Barlow, Cole’s father Hank held a bull hook in his hands, just in case.

  “This better not be a waste of my time,” Mr. Barlow said.

  “It won’t be,” Cole said. “We only need a few minutes, that’s all.” He nodded once at Lilly. “Go ahead.”

  Lilly took a deep breath and gazed into Pepper’s eyes, trying to concentrate and silently begging her to do what she asked. If this went as planned, she could quit being The Albino Medium. She’d be working with Cole and the elephants, and hopefully, there’d be less need for training ropes and bull hooks. Pepper looked bored and a little confused. Lilly opened her mouth to give a command, then went over and gave Pepper’s trunk a good rub instead.

  “Please don’t let me down, beautiful,” she whispered. “This is for both of us.”

  Pepper made a deep, rumbling noise in her throat, snuffled Lilly’s neck and hair, and gave her a big mushy kiss with the end of her trunk. Then she started to sway.

  “Okay, I’ve seen enough,” Mr. Barlow said. “The elephant likes her, so what?” He started to walk away.

  “No, wait,” Cole said. “Just watch.”

  Lilly moved back into position and said, “Up.”

  Pepper stopped swaying, lifted her feet, and stood on her hind legs.

  “On your head,” Lilly said.

  In one fluid motion Pepper rolled forward and balanced on her head and front feet, her giant back legs in the air. Lilly glanced at Mr. Barlow to see his reaction, but his face gave nothing away. Cole and Hank, on the other hand, were grinning like fools.

  “Down,” Lilly said.

  Pepper put her back legs down, got on her knees, and rolled over on her side. Lilly took a step toward her, told her to get up, and said, “Lift.” Pepper got up on all four feet, curled her trunk under Lilly like a swing, and lifted her gracefully over her head onto her neck. Lilly smiled and put an arm in the air, imitating the other big-top performers. Cole and Hank started clapping.

  Just then, the elephant trainer stormed into the arena. “What in the hell is going on here? What are you doing with my bull?”

  “I believe this is my bull,” Mr. Barlow said. “But I’ve been asking myself the same question.” He addressed Cole. “What exactly is going on here?”

  Cole gaped at Mr. Barlow as if he were the dumbest man on earth. “Didn’t you see what just happened?” he said, throwing his arm out toward the center ring. “Lilly is a natural. Nine times out of ten, Pepper refuses to stand on her head, but she does it for Lilly every time. The elephants respond to her like no one I’ve ever seen before. If you put Lilly under the big top with Pepper, they’d be your star attraction for sure!”

  Mr. Barlow took the cigar from his mouth and scowled. “Lilly is already a star attraction. And so are the elephants. So why would I combine them and lose one? That’s not good business sense, my boy. But I suppose that’s why I’m the owner of this circus and you’re not.” He waved a dismissive hand in the air. “Now get her down off that bull, take it back to the menagerie, and forget about this nonsense. We’ve got a show in two hours.”

  Lilly slid down Pepper’s side to the ground and stood beside her, surprised by the depth of her disappointment. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew Mr. Barlow would never allow her to perform with the bulls, but Cole had been so sure about the plan, she’d begun to believe in it too. Now she had to settle back into the fact that she’d be The Albino Medium forever.

  Anger and frustration lined Cole’s forehead. “If Lilly is one of your star attractions,” he said, “maybe Merrick should start paying her.”

  With that, Mr. Barlow’s face went dark. “As long as Merrick pays me my share of her take, I don’t give a damn what he does with his.” He gave Hank a disgusted look. “I’m surprised you were part of this.”

  “He wasn’t,” Cole said. “He brought Pepper over here, that’s it. I didn’t tell him why.”

  “Enough out of you,” Mr. Barlow snarled at Cole. “This circus has been running for over twenty years now, without any help from young, smartass whippersnappers like you. Now get back to work before I fire the lot of you!” He stuffed the cigar back in his mouth and marched out of the big top.

  Lilly looked at Cole and shrugged, blinking back tears.

  CHAPTER 18

  JULIA

  The evening following the ice storm, after Julia and Claude were finished with the horses and Claude had left for home, Julia took an oil lantern into her father’s den to search for more information about her late sister. The electricity was still out, and ice-encased branches trembled outside the windows, rattling against one another like bones. But despite the fact that she could see her breath in the freezing room and she was exhausted after cleaning stalls half the day, she couldn’t ignore the burning need to find the truth.

  She set the lantern on the desk, opened the middle drawer, and searched inside for the key to the locked drawer. It had to be in there somewhere. She reached into the back corners, felt along the lining for the shape of a key, and came up empty-handed. She tried picking the lock with a bobby pin but had no idea what she was doing. She shoved a letter opener between the desk frame and the top of the locked drawer to pry it open. The letter opener broke in two and she jammed her fist against the wood.

  “Shit!” she hissed. She dropped the letter opener and examined her knuckles. Divots of ripped skin flopped open on each one, exposing raw flesh underneath. Now, along with blisters on her palms from shoveling horse manure, she had scrapes on her knuckles too. Swearing again, she covered her knuckles with her other hand until they stopped throbbing, then carefully searched through the papers in the rest of the drawers. She took them out one by one and held them close to the lantern, squinting to read the fine print. They were business letters, indecipherable doctors’ prescriptions, pay stubs, old bills, and receipts. Nothing of any significance.

  Frustrated, she stood and looked around the room as if the answer was hidden there. Lantern light flickered off the walls and bookshelves, reflecting in the trophies and picture frames like tiny flames. She made her way along the shelves and scanned the titles. Then, starting at the bottom of the first bookcase, she riffed through the pages of each book before returning it to the shelf and moving on to the next. The dusty pages made her sneeze. She worked fast, trying to keep warm, and anxious to find the key to the locked drawer, or hopefully, more clues about her sister and what her parents might have done. Along with numerous volumes on horse breeds and veterinary medicine, there were novels, poem collections, reference books, and outdated encyclopedias.

  She climbed on a footstool to examine a set of six antique books with worn leather spines sitting between elephant-shaped bookends on the top shelf of the center bookcase. The dust was thicker on these books than the rest, and the pages were thin and yellowed. When she picked up the fourth book, she was surprised to discover it weighed almost nothing, despite the fact that it was the same size as the others. She got down from the footstool, opened the book, and gasped.

  The center of the book had been cut out to form a box inside the pages, and a small pile of yellowed newspaper clippings and other papers filled the space, stacked like pressed flowers in a haphazard pile. She took the book over to the desk and sat down, trembling with anticipation. Blowing into her hands to warm them first, she took out one of the clippings and opened it with gentle fingers, careful not to rip the paper.

  The headline of the article read: CIRCUS COMES TO LANGHORNE, PENNSYLVANIA. Below the headline, grainy black and white pictures showed two men in tuxedos and two women in evening gowns holding the halters of four white horses. In the middle of the horses, a man in a top hat and long fur coat smiled at the camera. Julia scanned the article. Why had her father felt the need to hide an article about a circus? She picked up
the next item. It was a ticket stub from The Barlow Brothers’ Circus. She looked at the article again. It was the same circus.

  The next clipping featured a photo of what looked like a pretty white-haired woman in a white dress and pearl choker. Her hair was swept back with pearl barrettes and she looked off in the distance, her mouth in a thin line as if she were trying not to cry. The caption below read: THE ALBINO MEDIUM. Another article announced the circus was coming to Saratoga, New York, and pictured what looked like the same woman sitting on the curled trunk of an elephant. This time she was smiling, one bejeweled arm in the air, her ballet-slippered feet pointed downward. There were more articles and ticket stubs from different towns in New York, Pennsylvania, Vermont, and Connecticut, all to The Barlow Brothers’ Circus.

  Julia’s mind raced. Her father never her took her to the circus. So where did all the ticket stubs come from? Why was he so interested in this particular circus? And why did he feel the need to hide these articles and ticket stubs? Why did it seem like most of the articles featured the pretty albino woman? Was it a coincidence? Did they have an affair? Is that why he went to the circus so much? Was that why he drank, because they couldn’t be together? Was his transgression, coupled with the loss of their first child, the reason behind Mother’s misery?

  Julia put the clippings and ticket stubs back in the book, shivering and more confused than ever. She wanted to stay in the den to keep searching for clues and the key to the locked drawer, but it was too cold. She needed to get back to the fireplace. Not only that, but she hadn’t eaten since morning and her stomach cramped with hunger. She left the book on the desk, grabbed the lantern, and headed into the hall.