Orphan Eleven

by Gennifer Choldenko

  “Don’t you want to find your sister?” Nico asked.

  She nodded, thinking about the look on Frank’s face when Doris touched his coat. Frank wouldn’t help Lucy find Dilly. He wouldn’t help any of them.

  If they all got apprenticeships, they would go with the circus to Chicago. Then Lucy would find Dilly.

  But Dilly was the most persistent person Lucy knew. She would have written Lucy if she wanted to. Maybe Dilly didn’t want to be found.

  January 17, 1939

  Home for Friendless Children

  Riverport, Iowa

  Dear Mrs. Mackinac,

  Thank you for sending the photograph. That is not my Lucy. My sister has red curly hair & freckles. She is small for her age. When I saw her last, she was the height of a sewing machine, the weight of a sack of flour.

  She likes to sing songs she makes up in her head. She is a good reader and fast with her sums.

  I have enough $$ for her train ticket home. Please could you gather all your girls together and call out Lucy Sauvé and she will raise her hand. Then ask her the name of the bachelor downstairs. When I see his name in your letter, I will mail you $$ for her ticket. If you could, please send her with a basket of supper so she won’t get hungry on the train.

  Yours truly,

  Dilly Sauvé

  January 18, 1939

  Dear Lucy,

  I guess some other Lucy will be reading the letter I wrote to you all about our private business or else it got throwed away.

  I am not sending this letter until I know for sure where you are at. But it felt good all up inside myself to write to you last time, so I’m writing again. I will keep this letter in my top dresser drawer with the letter Mama wrote to me.

  I set up a corner of my room for you. On the walls I pinned pictures of hats from a magazine, because I don’t draw them as well as Mama did. I have a bag of peanuts because you love them so. Mama and I would laugh about how we would know you were in a room by the peanut smell.

  I have three books in your corner. I got them from a correspondence course to make myself improved. It did not take. I’m still regular old me. I would rather sew dresses than read, because when I’m done sewing I have a new dress and when I’m done reading I have stories in my head that make me wonder about the world. It’s okay to wonder, but not when you have nobody to talk to about the wondering.

  It’s late now & I have to be up early so no one else will get my sewing machine, #71. It is the best machine in all of Mrs. LaFinestre’s sewing shop & I take extra careful care of it the way Mama did with her one pair of high-heel shoes, remember?

  Love,

  Dilly

  When they got back to Jabo’s, Lucy was happy to see Jabo wasn’t there. She didn’t want to have to explain to him where they’d been.

  Eugene and Doris were sitting up talking in beds they’d made on the floor.

  “We got extra cookies,” Doris gloated. “And you lost a chance.”

  Lucy’s insides turned to sludge.

  “Why?” Nico asked.

  “Not supposed to go snooping around without asking. Someone told Diavolo,” Doris crowed.

  They’d lost a chance and it was Lucy’s fault. How had she let this happen?

  I’m sorry, Lucy wrote, handing the page to Nico.

  Eugene worked a package out of his pocket and unwrapped the wax paper. Inside was a small stack of peanut butter cookies. He offered them to Nico and Lucy.

  “Don’t give those away,” Doris hissed at Eugene. “That’s why Mama didn’t want you. She said you weren’t smart enough to figure out how the world works.”

  The spark in Eugene’s eyes went out. He gave an unconvincing shrug. “She sent you away too,” he whispered.

  “She couldn’t help that,” Doris said.

  Lucy and Nico stared at Doris.

  “Why are you so mean?” Nico asked.

  “Well, it’s true.”

  “You don’t tell the whole truth. Only the mean part,” Nico said.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Doris said.

  Nico took a bite of his cookie. “Yes, you do.”

  Lucy popped a piece in her mouth and the sweet, nutty brown sugar melted on her tongue. The taste reminded her of eating peanuts on the fire escape with Dilly.

  Nico eyed Doris. “We got to have each other’s backs.”

  “You left, not me,” Doris said.

  Doris was like the skin burn you got when someone twisted your arm in two directions. It pained you to agree with her, even when she was right.

  Nico’s head nodded one-eighth of an inch. “From now on…all of us or none of us.” His eyes found Lucy’s. She nodded and he offered his hand to Doris, who shook it.

  Then they all took turns shaking each other’s hands.

  “We should talk about tomorrow,” Nico said. “Lucy’s going to try for elephant girl. What about you two?”

  “Fortune-teller,” Doris said.

  “A working guy that puts up the tents,” Eugene said. “Roustabouts, they’re called. What about you?”

  “Gonna try to get closer to Jabo,” Nico said. “We need to know how this place works.”

  This was smart. The more they knew about Saachi’s, the better.

  Two small pillows and two stacks of blankets sat on the floor next to Eugene. Lucy read an elegantly printed note pinned to the top of one stack. Nico read the note fixed to the other.

  Jabo made sure they were taken care of. He seemed considerate of everyone. Lucy just needed to explain to him why she couldn’t talk. Then he would understand.

  Lucy made her bed on the floor between Eugene and Nico. Then, when everyone was asleep, she got out her paper and pencil and began to write.

  Dear Jabo,

  I understand how important it is to be able to say “John Robinson.” I know this is why I need to talk. But some things are a permanent part of a person, like how the Chicken Man always wears his chicken suit, and the Zebra Lady can’t take off her stripes.

  My quiet is a part of me. It is as important to me as being ringmaster is to you.

  I’ll be the best apprentice Saachi’s Circus Spectacular has ever had. I’ll teach “John Robinson” hand signals to every person. There will never be a danger that I see that everyone in the circus won’t know about.

  Please don’t make me speak.

  Sincerely,

  Lucy Simone Sauvé

  Lucy set the letter on Jabo’s pillow. Then she lay down in her spot, tucking the blankets under her chin.

  She felt good about what she had written, but bad about losing her chance and Nico’s. Mostly, though, her mind was spinning with thoughts about the elephant.

  Lucy would feed the elephant. She would water the elephant. Did you brush an elephant? Did you comb its tail?

  The elephant liked her already, Lucy was sure of it.

  Her head sank deeper into the pillow.

  The next thing Lucy knew the room was shrinking and the lady from the university, Miss Holland, was shouting, her long white fingers were strangling Lucy.

  “Every time you open your mouth, you embarrass yourself and humiliate Mrs. Mackinac.”

  “Lucy! Lucy!” Jabo shook her gently. “It’s just a bad dream. You’re safe here with us.”

  Lucy opened her eyes.

  It was dark in Jabo’s train car. Jabo in his striped robe was on one side of her, Doris in her orphanage dress on the other.

  “You had a nightmare. That’s all.” Jabo patted her back. “You’re with us now. Everything is going to be fine.”

  Lucy nodded. Cold sweat ran down her sides.

  “She has a lot of nightmares. Ever since Mackinac picked her,” Doris reported.
/>   Jabo’s eyes turned a deeper brown. “Do you want to talk about your dream?” he whispered, handing Lucy a pencil and paper.

  Lucy shook her head.

  Miss Holland made her feel like dirt. Lucy tried so hard with her, but she couldn’t get her mouth to say the words the way Miss Holland wanted. Couldn’t speak without pausing, stuttering.

  Jabo stroked her hair gently, like Mama would when she had a fever. “You’re safe now. Remember, you’re an OOFO. And OOFOs are protected by the great order of orphans everywhere. We look out for each other.”

  Lucy nodded.

  “Try to get some sleep. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.” His joints cracked as he stood up. He hopped onto the step by his bed, and climbed in, folding the covers over his shoulders.

  Eugene snored softly, still holding his cards in his hand. Nico breathed in fits and starts, one mustache stuck crookedly across his lip. The clocks tick-tocked and tick-tick-ticked, for what seemed like a long time before she heard Jabo’s gentle sleep-breathing. Doris was still sitting up, her eyes open. At the orphanage, she was the one awake when you went to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

  “Sing, please,” she whispered to Lucy.

  The first few years in the orphanage, Lucy had sung to the little girls every night. All the girls looked forward to hearing her. They would pretend to be asleep until the night matron got up from the chair, closed the door of the girls’ dorm room, and walked down the hall. Then Lucy would begin to sing.

  “Please, Lucy,” Doris begged. “You know you can.”

  Lucy picked up her blankets and moved them next to Doris. When she was settled, she reached her hand out and Doris took it. A few minutes later Doris too was asleep.

  The next thing Lucy knew, Jabo was announcing, “Rise and shine. Cook tent flag’s up.”

  It was still dark out, but the lights in the old train car were on. Nico was using his fingers to comb his hair. Eugene and Doris waited by the door with freshly washed faces. Lucy folded her blankets and went to the tiny bathroom to clean up.

  “We get to go to the cook tent,” Doris announced when Lucy came out.

  “Yes. I spoke with Diavolo and Seraphina last night,” Jabo explained. “They agreed to give you six days to secure an apprenticeship.”

  “Six days?” Nico asked.

  Jabo cracked his knuckles. “Yes, Saturday is dress rehearsal and then we boil up. First performance is Sunday here in Karaboo. We leave when we’re done with the show.”

  “Boil up?” Nico asked as Jabo rifled through the tools and broken timepieces on his workbench.

  “In a manner of speaking, my fine sir. Means we take baths. Boil clothes.” Jabo slipped a pocket watch into his vest. “Ready?” he asked.

  They followed him down the stairs and across the muddy ground by the horse corrals. The dark outside was beginning to loosen its grip. The first sliver of orange cut through the gray.

  When they got to the entrance of the cook tent, Jabo gathered them in a huddle. “Listen up, OOFOs. Two sides to the cook tent. Performers on the right, working people on the left. You’ll sit with the working people: the candy butchers, canvas men, roustabouts, menagerie. Listen to them. They know who is light-handed, who will be likely to take an apprentice on, and who to look out for.”

  “Do I have to be a clown?” Doris burst out.

  “Of course not, Mademoiselle Doris. You’ll find your own true star in our spinning galaxy,” Jabo said as he moved through the flap door into the cook tent.

  Inside, a checked curtain hung on a rope between the sides. On the right side were tall people, short people, dark skinned, light skinned, illustrated, and zebra striped…everyone was talking and laughing.

  Lucy saw a man so tall that even sitting down, he towered over the waiter. A table full of dwarfs. A woman with a mustache.

  On the left side there were a few women and lots of big, burly men.

  A pass-through window at the front of the tent had steaming dishes of potatoes, bacon, sausage, and stacks of pancakes. Beyond the window was the kitchen, full of sparkling appliances, pots and pans, and stacks of dishes. The cook tent kitchen could not have been more different from the worn walls and floors and iron pots of the orphanage kitchen.

  “Don’t stare, and remember, make yourself useful,” Jabo whispered to Doris as a slight lady with a white cook’s hat appeared behind them. The cook had a wrinkled face and lively dark eyes.

  “Best to put them at different tables,” the cook said.

  Jabo bowed to her. “You are as gracious as you are lovely, Nitty-Bitty.”

  “I’m nothing of the kind, you rascal,” Nitty-Bitty growled, shaking her finger at him. “Don’t you sugar-talk me.” But the corner of Nitty-Bitty’s mouth twitched as she fought back a smile.

  Jabo laughed. “Nitty’s right. It’s best you split up.”

  Doris clamped her hand around Eugene’s. Lucy and Nico exchanged a look. All of them wanted to sit together.

  A dwarf in a polka-dotted dress walked by. Her hair was pasted flat against her head with a wave at the bottom. An unlit cigarette hung between bright pink lips. “Don’t tell me. Jabo’s back to OOFOing,” she muttered in a raspy voice as she walked by.

  “Dame Catherine is one of our biggest stars.” Jabo nodded to her. “Lucy, the table in the back there. Nico, the one here. Doris and Eugene, you come with me.”

  Lucy’s knees wobbled as she headed for her table. Three extra-large men were hunkered over their plates. She breathed in the smell of sweat, tobacco, maple syrup, and sausages.

  She sat down on the bench and a waiter in kitchen whites placed a plate piled high with pancakes and sausages in front of her. A little squeal of pleasure escaped her mouth.

  The men laughed and Lucy’s cheeks turned hot.

  She had just tucked into her pancakes when the man closest to her, with hands big and lumpy as potatoes, said, “Hello.”

  Lucy waved her fork at him.

  “Name’s Bunk. That’s Rib with the big ears. Nevada.” He pointed to a man with wavy hair. “Watch out for him or he’ll eat the food right off your plate. You’re an OOFO, that right?”

  Lucy nodded.

  “What’s your name?” Bunk asked.

  Lucy put down her fork, found the part of her paper where she had written Lucy, and showed Bunk.

  Rib knit his brow.

  “An OOFO that don’t say nothing. That’s something,” Nevada said.

  “Be a blessing you kept your mouth shut,” Bunk said.

  They all laughed.

  Lucy gobbled down her sausage.

  “Hold on to your plates, boys. The girl’s got an appetite,” Rib said.

  “Eats like a roustabout,” Bunk said. “Make a muscle.” He flexed his arm to demonstrate.

  Lucy bent her arm and closed her fist.

  Bunk felt her biceps, then shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  Rib patted the top of her head. “Hair’s sure red, and it got springs. Surely that’s useful for something.”

  Lucy picked up her pencil and wrote Elephants.

  Bunk nodded. “Grace could use an extra set of hands, I expect, but…” His voice trailed off.

  The hot cakes went cold in Lucy’s mouth. She picked up her pencil and began to write fast and furious.

  “Sparks coming off that pencil.” Rib winked at Bunk.

  Jabo gave me three elephant hairs.

  She handed the page to Rib, who passed it to Bunk.

  “Jabo.” Bunk nodded. “Everybody loves that man, Nitty-Bitty, Lady Grace, Betts—they’re good people. The one you got to worry about is—”

  “Diavolo,” Nevada whispered.

  “Yup. And we work for him,” Rib said under his breath.

  “I’ll point him out, but don’t say anyt
hing,” Bunk warned.

  “Guess you don’t got to worry none about that.” Rib grinned.

  Bunk laughed. “Come on. We’ll act like we’re helping the waiters out.” He dumped the rest of the sausages on Nevada’s plate, then carried the serving dish up to the front.

  Diavolo was seated at the front table on the performers’ side, his feet perched on a velvet footstool. He was a slight man with shiny black hair and a thin mustache that reminded Lucy of Nico’s mustache gifts. He rang a bell and Nitty-Bitty came running.

  “He’s superstitious. Got to have his plate just so,” Bunk whispered, exchanging the empty sausage plate for a full one. “Temperamental, too. The man’s got a thirst for danger. Lives for it. And he’s got to win. Even if it’s something little like guessing the number of jelly beans in a jar.”

  Lucy nodded.

  “And that’s his wife, Seraphina,” Bunk said. “We all love her.”

  A woman with long hair, black and shiny as tar, sat next to him. She had dark eyes and muscular arms.

  “Stay away from Diavolo,” Nevada said when they got back to the roustabout table.

  “Be careful of that guy, too.” Rib poked Bunk.

  Bunk laughed. “Finish up and I’ll take you to meet Grace. I’ll put in a good word for you.”

  “A good word from Bunk means a lot,” Rib whispered to Lucy.

  Bunk pulled out a piece of newspaper and handed it to her. He pointed to the serving platter. “Wrap the sausages and put ’em in your pocket.”

  “You can starve to death between meals,” Rib agreed.

  “But stay away from the big cats. They are fond of sausages,” Nevada said.

  “Stay away from them anyway. What else can we tell her might help her out, boys?” Bunk asked as Lucy rolled the sausages in the paper and stuck them in her pocket.

  “You watch Grace with her animals and think you can do what she can, you got another think coming,” Nevada said.