“I never saw any girl.”
“Come on,” Boss Man said. “The kid in the overalls.”
Filippo laughed. “That filthy kid was a girl? Sapphira’s girl? You’ve got to be joking.”
From under the cot, Emma realized Filippo was trying to protect her.. But, she had to escape . . . now.
Crawling on her belly, she lifted the tent bottom and stuck her head out, praying no one would see her wriggle out from under it. She heard Lucky barking and froze. He raced toward her. When he reached her, he whined and licked her face. Her head was the only part of her body outside the tent. In the next moment she spied cowboy boots. Boss Man.
“Curly,” he said, and shook his head.
Emma put her finger to her lips to shush him, then wiggled on her belly from under the tent. But it was too late. Mother and Filippo had walked to the back side of the tent.
“Emma!” Mother said.
Emma, still on her knees, still in the tulle and satin dress, held onto Lucky. She was trapped.
“I can’t believe you disobeyed me like this!” Mother said, her voice shaking. “And look at you. What did you think you were doing? Stand up, young lady!”
As Emma started to get up, her left boot caught on the tulle skirt, straining a strap on the satin bodice. She felt it snap. With her right hand, she grabbed hold of the strap and stood, Lucky by her side.
Boss Man put his hand over his mouth and coughed. He was trying not to laugh!
Mother grabbed her. “Why are you wearing that dress?”
At that moment, something snapped inside Emma, like the strap on her dress. She wrangled away from Mother’s grasp. “Stop it! I’m not a baby, Mother!”
“Don’t talk to me like that!” Mother lifted her hand and slapped Emma’s face. For a moment, nothing existed for Emma except the stinging in her cheek and the fury she felt inside. Her mother did hate her. And here was the proof of it.
“You lied to me, Emma. Disobeyed me.”
Humiliation and rage surged through Emma until they found a voice. “Yes!” she yelled. “But I had to. I had to find him . . . my father! You wouldn’t tell me, so I had to find him for myself.” She touched her still stinging cheek.
The color drained from Mother’s face. “Emma, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, I do. My father is a circus flyer. I found his photograph in your bureau and saw him on a circus poster. Why didn’t you tell me?” Emma swallowed back tears.
Mother looked away from her, far away, to those secret places she wouldn’t share with Emma. “You shouldn’t have been snooping in my room. It was none of your business!”
“None of my business? My own father is none of my business?” she shouted.
“No. Let it go, Emma. Now come with me.” She grabbed Emma’s wrist.
Emma shook Mother’s hand off. “No! I’m staying till I learn the truth!” She pointed to Filippo. “You’re my father, aren’t you?”
Filippo stood silent, still as a held breath. Then he smiled. “No, tesora, I’m not your father. Though I’d be proud to be.”
Emma stared at Filippo and then Mother. “But the picture in your drawer? Isn’t that him?” Emma asked, pointing at Filippo.
“No,” her mother said.
“Tell her, Sapphira,” Boss Man said. “She deserves to know.”
“She’s a child. My child. And what she deserves to know is up to me. Come, Emma.”
“The dress,” Filippo said. “She needs to leave the dress. It belongs to the circus.”
I belong to the circus, Emma thought. And her mother was dragging her from it.
The elephants, Emma’s elephants, marched trunk to tail toward the waiting train. People scurried by them, barely stopping to look.
Emma jerked her arm free from her mother’s clasp.
“Don’t you do that!” Mother snapped.
“I have to take this off!” Emma yelled, flicking her hand at the tulle-skirted dress.
Emma stormed inside the tent, Lucky at her heels. Once inside, she collapsed on the cot. Lucky sat on his haunches and cocked his head as if asking, What now? She threw her arms around Lucky and buried her face in his fur. She had to think. But her mind was a jumble. If Filippo wasn’t her father, then who was? Boss Man’s words, “Tell her,” echoed in Emma’s brain. Boss Man knew about her father. She would ask him, but when and how? Before she could come up with a plan, Mother poked her head in the tent.
“Let’s go, Emma.”
“I’m not dressed yet!”
“Well, hurry up! I’ve work to do…and you’re coming with me.”
Emma stood, slipped off the dress, pulled on her shirt and stepped into the damp overalls. As she was about to shove her hair back into Granddad’s fedora, she spied the shiny silver scissors in the tray. She looked at herself in the mirror and began snipping away at her curls. Never would Mother put them in braids again. Never! When she was finished, she shoved Granddad’s fedora on her head and stepped outside the tent feeling lighter.
“Emma!” Mother said when she saw her. “Your hair!” She didn’t even notice that she was dressed in filthy overalls.
Emma didn’t say a word. All she could think of was how hard she had worked to earn a ticket to the Big Show to find the man in the photograph, the man Mother wouldn’t tell her about, the father that belonged to her! And for what?
Mother took Emma’s hand, but she shook it free, lagging behind Mother as she stormed off the circus grounds. All around them the circus was coming down, being tossed onto the train to be carried off to who-knows-where. She thought of Boss Man and Filippo, how they had looked at her, treated her, like they understood, like she was one of them. She thought of the souvenir she had left them, her curls lying on the ground inside Filippo’s tent.
The thunderstorm had cooled the air and left puddles in its wake. Emma’s boots hit each puddle with a lusty anger, shooting up a spray she hoped splattered her mother’s bare legs. Lucky kept pace beside her. So many questions raced through Emma’s mind. Who was the man in the photograph? Who was her father? Why wouldn’t Mother tell her? That familiar wall of silence rose up between them. Emma felt exhausted by the work, the heat, and all that had happened in the circus backyard. Still she knew she couldn’t let tomorrow come without learning the truth about her father.
As they stepped onto 21st Street, Emma turned her head back toward the circus lot to see tents coming down, wagons loaded, animals gone.
Panic gripped her. How long before every part of the circus would be disassembled and packed onto the trains? How long before Boss Man would be gone along with her chance to find out about her father?
She couldn’t let that happen.
She wouldn’t.
Chapter Fourteen
A Dangerous Plan
By the time Emma and Mother reached the back door of Dr. Rose’s house overlooking Lake Michigan, Emma’s anger had transformed into something else. She looked at Mother just ahead of her in her old wash dress now speckled with flecks of mud and promised herself that she would never end up like Mother, hands smelling of bleach, cleaning other people’s toilets and washing their underwear. Never! Someday she would be a circus star. She would learn to fly, fly like Filippo the Flying Wonder. She would wear pretty costumes that shone and glittered, dazzle folks with pirouettes and somersaults high above the sawdust, high above the ordinary folk. Everyday Emma would be doing what she loved.
Mother started to open the screen door. Without turning around, she said, “Lucky will have to stay outside, but you come in with me.”
“Mother,” Emma pleaded. “Can’t I stay outside with Lucky?”
Mother’s shoulders drooped, her hand gripping the door handle. As always, the ties on her apron hung limply. “Please?” Emma said in a nicer voice this time.
Dr. Rose appeared behi
nd the screen just inside the door. “Emma,” he said, pushing his glasses back onto his nose. “You had your mother very worried.”
“She worries too much,” Emma said.
“That’s what mothers do, my child.” As he looked her over, his kind, blue eyes nearly twinkled. “And you have a new hairdo. It suits you. Those overalls, too. I think more girls should sport them.” He glanced at Mother. “Why don’t you let her play in the backyard with Lucky, Sapphira?”
“Because she can’t be trusted.”
“Now, Sapphira. Can’t you let the girl have some space?”
Was Dr. Rose really on her side, or did he not want her inside his house as filthy as she was? She probably smelled like elephant dung, or worse.
Mother looked at her with tired, sad eyes. Emma could still feel the sting of Mother’s slap on her cheek. “Well, all right,” Mother said. “But stay in the backyard. You’ve caused enough trouble for one day.”
“Can’t Lucky and me go down to the lake?”
Mother let out a huge sigh. “Lucky and I. No. Stay in the yard where I can keep an eye on you. Dr. Rose’s guests will be coming soon. I’ve still more food to prepare. I’ll be watching from the kitchen. No more shenanigans, young lady.”
As Mother stepped inside, Dr. Rose lay his hand on Mother’s shoulder and whispered something in her ear. Grown-ups and their secrets. Emma was sick of it. She had to get back to the circus lot and find Boss Man and uncover the one secret Mother insisted on keeping from her. She would stay in the backyard all right, the circus backyard!
Emma picked up a stick and threw it toward the lake. Lucky ran across the wide lawn to catch it. She had to think of a plan that would get her back to the circus grounds and find Boss Man.
She glanced back toward the house. Mother stared out the kitchen window. How could Emma escape this time? If she ran, Mother would be after her in a flash.
Lucky came loping back to her. Just as he dropped the stick at her feet, Clarence’s and Teddy’s heads appeared over the bluff that led down to the lake.
“Emma!” Teddy shouted. Her cousins scrambled across the lawn toward her.
“What are you doing here?” Clarence asked. “I thought you were going to join the circus,” he said in his usual mocking tone. “Your ma find you and drag you here? What happened to your hair? Don’t you look swell!”
“Shut up.”
“So, what you gonna do now?” Teddy asked.
Emma glanced at Clarence dressed in knickers and a cap. In an instant, a plan of escape formed in her brain. She grabbed Clarence’s arm. “Swap clothes with me!”
“What?”
“Please. You’ve got to. Mother’s keeping an eye on me from the window. But I’ve got to get back to the circus grounds.”
“Why?” Teddy asked. “Are you going to run away . . . for real this time?”
“I’ve got to talk to Boss Man. Clarence, if we swap clothes—you put on these overalls and fedora and I put on your knickers and cap—Mother will think I’m you and you’re me. We’re nearly the same size. And now that I’ve short hair…”
“You’re crazy, Emma,” Clarence said. “When are you going to grow up? Besides, I’ve outgrown those overalls and why should I help you anyway? I’d only get in a heap of trouble with your mama.”
“Because I’ve got something you want.”
“Yeah, like what?” Clarence asked.
“A French postcard.”
“What’s a French postcard?” Teddy asked.
“A postcard with naked ladies,” Emma told him. “I’ve got one in my pocket.”
“Like heck you do,” Clarence said.
Emma pulled out the postcard for Clarence to peek at. He blushed a good one before she could shove it back in her pocket. “Clarence, you and me are going to go behind those bushes and swap clothes.” Emma pointed to a hedge of lilac bushes near the edge of the bluff about fifty feet from the house. “Then you’ll pretend to be me.” She smiled at Clarence. “For the French postcard.”
“Maybe,” Clarence said.
“OK, listen and I’ll explain again, but we’ve got to hurry!” She stared into Clarence’s eyes to make sure he was paying attention. “Go knock on the back door and when Mother comes, ask her if you and Teddy can go swimming. You know she always lets you…being boys and all…” Emma had to add. “Then we’ll go behind the bushes and swap clothes.”
“I ain’t undressing in front of you,” Clarence protested.
“We’ll have our backs to each other and pass the clothes that way,” Emma said. “After you’re wearing these overalls with the French postcard in the pocket, and I’m wearing your knickers and cap, I’ll disappear down the bluff with Lucky and you’ll stay in the yard with Teddy.”
“Won’t she wonder why Teddy didn’t go with me?”
“Maybe, but I don’t want Teddy going down to the lake by himself. Sorry, Teddy.”
“But the clothes you’re wearing stink! PU!” Clarence, the BO boy, said. “You’re going to have to do something to make this up to me, more than just a French postcard. I’m going to be in a heap of trouble with Aunt Saffy because of you.”
“I’ll do your chores for a week.”
“A month,” Clarence insisted.
“OK, a month. So, you better not run off with the circus.”
After Emma and Clarence had exchanged clothes behind the lilac hedge, she raced down the bluff with Lucky, pretending to be Clarence heading to the lake. But instead she headed south toward the circus grounds. “Come on, buddy,” she told Lucky. “You’re coming with me this time. Whatever happens, wherever I go, you’re going with me.”
When she spotted the path up the bluff that led to Eleventh Street, she and Lucky climbed the steep, sandy trail. The July sun, making its descent into the west, dipped below a bank of clouds, throwing heat onto her back. She guessed it was after five o’clock by now. What would she find when she reached the circus grounds? All the circus trains couldn’t be gone yet. They just couldn’t!
As she reached the top of the trail, she spotted a bicycle several houses down, leaning up against the Swensen’s picket fence. Emma looked toward the porch and the front door. No one in sight. “Shall we borrow this?” she asked Lucky. “It will get us there faster.”
Lucky barked twice.
She cruised down Wisconsin Avenue, reveling in the speed until she spotted Mrs. Brosky sitting on her front porch decorated in red, white, and blue bunting for the Fourth.
Mrs. Brosky waved at her. “Hi, Clarence! Happy Fourth! Tell your aunt I wish her the same.”
“I will. And happy Fourth to you, too!”
Lucky barked his own greeting.
Holy cow, but fooling people was easy. Was it this simple for everyone, or did she have a natural talent for it? She could see where it would come in handy in life…it already had. By making people think she was someone or something she wasn’t, she’d been able to get what she wanted—well, almost. Now what she wanted most of all was the truth and to be her own true self. She pedaled hard, frantic that she wouldn’t find Boss Man before he left.
When Emma rode close enough to catch a glimpse of the circus lot, the sight before her nearly made her lose her balance and tumble onto the street. The Big Top convulsed to the earth like a gigantic dying moth. Roustabouts threw themselves at the canvas, grabbing at it, trying to speed its demise.
She pedaled quickly across the field, her feet and heart pumping fast, praying that Boss Man would still be there.
Chapter Fifteen
Secrets Revealed
As Emma pedaled across the circus lot, feathery clouds drifted in front of the sun that hovered low on the horizon. Dozens of men swarmed over the fallen Big Top, unlacing and rolling the flattened canvas. Wagons rumbled toward the railroad crossing where the flatcars waited. Animals scree
ched and roared from inside cages that were being rolled and jostled toward the waiting train.
Where could Boss Man be? Emma’s sweaty undershirt and underpants stuck to her skin; her feet ached in their too-small boots. She felt exhausted, but she couldn’t quit now.
“Scram, kid,” a roustabout shouted at her. “A tear down ain’t no place for rubes…or their dogs.”
All around her, men rolled the Big Top into huge bundles and began hoisting them onto trucks. A tall black man, with huge muscles glanced over his shoulders at her.
“I’m looking for the boss,” Emma said.
“Ain’t seen ’im,” the roustabout replied.
She pedaled toward the section of the circus lot where Filippo’s tent had been. Workers scurried about loading huge wooden trunks onto wagons.
And then she saw him. Filippo, dressed in cuffed white slacks and a dark blue shirt, his hair slicked back and looking for all the world like some sort of movie star. Her heart beat fast. She called to him.
He turned and started walking toward her. “You again?” he said, grinning at her. “Don’t you know how to dress like a girl? And your hair.” He shook his head. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. I guess you’re here because you want those curls back…or maybe you want to run away with the circus.” He smiled at her like people do when they’re half-joking. His two front teeth, Emma couldn’t help noticing, overlapped slightly the way hers did. And he had dark eyes framed by thick lashes and a dimple on his chin—the same as the man in the photograph. He had to be her father. Why couldn’t he say so?
“I came to talk to the circus boss.”
He bent down to scratch Lucky behind both ears. Lucky’s tail wagged gratefully. “Fine dog you’ve got here. Used to have a setter.” He stood and lit a stub of a cigarette. “So why don’t you want to join the circus like your mama?”
“What?”
“If you’re half as good as your mama was, I could make you a star,” he said. “You look surprised, tesora.”
Mother? In the circus…? A chill skittered down Emma’s spine. The feathered headband in the box with the photo! It had been Mother’s! Mother had been in the circus—it seemed impossible, but here it was …the truth, the impossible, astounding truth. And Filippo had to be her father, but why wouldn’t he say so?
Catch Me When I Fall Page 8