I went directly to the shed, picked up a shovel, and spent the entire day and the next turning over the earth, using the energy of the hummingbirds. Ben and Polly both knew to keep their distance.
Each shovelful of loam I turned over was fresh and rich. I went out and bought pots of fuchsia, crocosmia bulbs, and dahlia tubers, as well as packets of seeds—morning glories, sunflowers, portulacas, and zinnias, purple, yellow, and orange. I soaked the morning glory seeds overnight, and the next day I scattered them next to a piece of old fence that I’d staked in the ground. I planted the dahlias near where the iris grew wild and hung up baskets of fuchsia on wrought-iron posts. I didn’t stop working until I had planted everything I’d bought and given the hummingbirds a reason to return.
I’d dug the garden outside my bedroom window so I could watch the flowers grow when the sun filled the sky or by moonlight. Every morning I’d get out of bed, lift my blind, and look to see if anything had sprouted.
Ben and Polly told the workers not to touch this small piece of land. It was mine to care for, mine alone. I lovingly watered this little patch of life and pulled out any weeds that tried to pose as flowers. When the first green sprouted and then a little color showed itself, I felt a sense of happiness return. Still, I waited for the hummingbirds.
I played the phonograph and danced by myself in the living room, remembering my nights with Irina. I took long walks by the sea and thought of my mother as I watched the gulls skim over the waves. Sometimes I would have Ben take me to the Tybee Island Lighthouse, next to the Savannah River, just to watch the egrets and herons stalking near the shore on their long legs. On Sundays people came with special glasses to see the migratory birds there. Other times I’d have him drop me off at the port, and I would sit and watch the men load the big containers onto the ships, some filled with cotton, soybeans, and tobacco from Butler Farm. Then I would find a spot where I could dangle my feet in the water, later rubbing them dry with a towel that Ben kept in the car for occasions like this.
On one such afternoon, I thought I saw a silhouette of a figure from my past. I started to chase after it. But the sun was at its peak, glaring in my face, and I became temporarily blinded; I closed my eyes, but when I opened them again the figure was gone. “It must have been my imagination,” I told myself. Then I blinked once more, this time to wash the image away.
It was a solitary time. I let the sea air wash over me, and though I thought about the circus and the queens and missed them all madly, I waited for the hummingbirds as I said I would.
The zinnias showed their faces first, bursting with orange, purple, and yellow. The purple-blue morning glories with their hint of yellow scrambled up the fence, and the elegant irises grew like weeds. Dahlias showed off their red, gold, and oranges. Billows of yellow-and-white marguerites flanked the entrance to the house, and pink-and-purple fuchsias hung in baskets from the rafters of the porch.
Every morning when I walked out the door, the cheerful faces of my portulacas greeted me. Ben, who had learned about them from a Mexican gardener, introduced me to these dainty succulents. They open every morning to greet the sun, and at night they close to rest. I tried to follow suit.
Then early one morning I opened my blinds, and three ruby-throated hummingbirds were circling the flowers. I threw on my robe and ran outside, but by the time I arrived, they were gone. The following morning, before the first rays of sun had touched the garden, I decided to plant myself in the middle of it. Polly and Ben watched from the kitchen. When the sun’s golden arms reached out and touched me, three hummingbirds—I believe, the same ones—returned to visit the flowers. My garden was in full bloom, and my self-pity had turned to gratitude. After years of pain and sadness, my heart was full.
The time had come for me to return, but before I could go, I had a promise to fulfill.
I arranged with Bella for Spade to come to Savannah. She’d stay for several days and help me with my bags and getting on and off the train.
Spade was so excited! I gave her the tour. Ben played the role of butler and driver; Polly greeted her with a double chocolate cake. She was very impressed!
Later, as we were sipping lemonade on the porch, she said something I would never forget: “Your house and land must be what heaven looks like.” I had never thought about it that way, but I realized she might be right.
We took long walks and I pointed out herbs and wildflowers she hadn’t been familiar with. We went to the Butler family cemetery, and I told her all about Irina. “Irina was very generous and such fun,” I said. “She had me laughing every night. She understood the importance of play and the importance of doing good. She taught me all she thought a mother should teach a daughter, and when she passed, she left me her house and farm as if I really was her daughter. I don’t know who I would have become without her, or your family.” There was a piece of me now that only Spade knew, and I hoped it made her feel special.
Looking at Spade I was shocked to see how much she had grown in this short period of time. I wondered if Ann Marie was as tall as her, too. Soon they would no longer be children.
Spending time with Spade, I became anxious to see the rest of my circus family. I was ready to read a stranger’s future, look into a crystal ball, interpret tea leaves at the bottom of a cup, deliver precious babies, and sit around the fire. But best of all, I’d see the queens and Emily and Bess.
Yes, the time had come for me to leave. I didn’t need to say a word; Polly began to pack my travel case.
¯¯¯
On our last afternoon in Savannah, I found Spade relaxing in the middle of my garden, her head tilted up toward the sky, and I remembered thinking that she looked like an angel.
Spade asked if she could say goodbye to Irina. “I want to thank her for giving you a home and someone you could love after you lost your own family.”
I thought it a beautiful gesture, so we went to the cemetery. Each of us told Irina what we’d come to say. When we returned, I noticed Polly had finished my packing and on top of my suitcase she had left a freshly baked loaf of bread wrapped in what I knew to be Polly’s favorite piece of fabric.
Like I had so many years before, I left a note. I thanked Polly and Ben for their kindness and hard work and told them I’d return, but I didn’t know when. I left Ben an envelope to give to Joseph, for although I had been in Savannah for months, I had only seen him once.
Spade and I said our goodbyes to the garden and the hummingbirds. Then Ben took us to the train station. We would meet up with the Circus of the Queens in Nashville. I had no idea what surprises awaited me.
Chapter 26
I handed Lucky a book of poetry by Robert Louis Stevenson, A Child’s Garden of Verses, and a copy of his classic Treasure Island. “We can read these together.” Lucky loved books and words, while Ann Marie loved things of beauty. Wrapped in scarlet tissue paper with a scarlet ribbon, she carefully untied the bow and lifted the paper off the box. Inside was a long hand-embroidered silk scarf and a matching beaded barrette for her hair, both scarlet of course.
“Thank you!” She hugged me, adding, “I’ve missed you a lot.”
I wanted to encourage Diamond to find her voice so I hired a luthier to make Diamond a ukulele out of rosewood. “It comes with a book.” Diamond immediately began strumming.
Spade’s gift was a planter box and packets of flower seeds. “You can plant a garden and take it with you everywhere we go.”
Excited to see me, the queens made a happy commotion. They wanted to hear all about Savannah, but soon they shifted to gossip.
Ann Marie spoke up first. “Did Spade tell you Papa hired a ringmaster-in-training? His name is Marvin. He’s old, but he’s still cute.”
“That’s disgusting!” Lucky butted in.
Right then Marvin walked past and tipped his hat. I could see immediately that he was tall and handsome. The creases at the corners o
f his eyes gave him a bit of ruggedness that contrasted with a suave tailored European style jacket.
The girls called him over. “You have to meet our Aunt Donatella,” they shouted before he could get away. He walked over, and Ann Marie introduced him as the very Marvin they’d just been telling me about. I was immediately taken by the boyish grin that belied the lines on his face. He was polite but didn’t try to engage in conversation. Still, the way he’d smiled at me was enough ammunition for the girls.
“I think he likes you,” said Diamond. The queens were having a good laugh at my expense, and I didn’t mind. “Papa said he might let some boy from India take care of Emily and Bess. He’s got a name that’s hard to remember—it begins with an H?” She looked at the other girls, but none could help her out.
“Mama’s missed you a lot!” Ann Marie declared. “Papa hasn’t been himself lately. He moped around the circus for months, but I think he might be doing a little better now.” The other girls agreed.
The queens insisted that we have dinner together. Spade and I made a date to visit Emily in the morning, and she asked if Roman could join us. She and this boy had gotten close. When everything was settled, I left to go unpack my things.
I was anxious to see Vladimir and Bella. Bella had taken the time to air out my sleeping car and tent and make them more inviting. She’d put fresh-cut flowers on a table in the tent to remind me of my garden and made up my bed in the sleeper car with crisp new sheets that smelled of lavender.
I was admiring her handiwork when I heard her calling my name. “You didn’t think I could wait an hour more to see you!” she exclaimed, kissing my cheeks.
Vladimir had come too, and he seemed pleased to see me as well. Nonetheless, I could tell that something was on his mind. When I leaned in to kiss his cheeks, I could see he hadn’t been well.
“Bella’s cooking a grand welcome-home meal,” he said. “Come over with us now, and we can catch up while she finishes.”
As we walked along the midway, I noticed that Vladimir was limping.
“What happened to your leg?” I asked.
“I—”
“A master tightrope walker,” Bella cut in, “and he lost his balance while skipping across a log! Can you imagine that, Donatella?” We pretended to find it funny, but we both knew it was no joke.
He looked at me as if pleading for understanding. “Every morning, Donatella, I search for a way to put one foot in front of the other and make sense of my world. But there has been so much sadness and anger these last years—it makes me dizzy.”
“Consider it an honor he’ll tell you these things. These days it’s Bess who’s his greatest confidante.” Bella’s voice was friendly, but she looked a little hurt.
After dinner, when the girls got up to go to bed, to my dismay, Vladimir rose, saying that he needed to check in on the elephants. Clearly his old habits hadn’t changed. Bella didn’t look happy, but she didn’t argue with him.
A gust of wind blew in when Vladimir left. I shivered and hugged myself.
Bella got up silently, made us both cups of tea, then sat down and sighed. “He finds it easier to share what’s troubling him with an elephant than with me. I guess he knows she’ll only share his secrets with Emily.” Bella picked up her teacup and cupped it as if to warm her hands. “I’ve done everything I can, but I’m starting to think that only Vladimir can heal himself. But enough about us! Tell me all about the plantation!”
I told her about Polly’s cooking and her aprons, about swinging on the porch, my walks, the tobacco harvest—all the little details of the plantation’s daily life.
“What a time it’s been!” Bella sighed. “You were like the Pied Piper when you left, it seemed—everyone else went after you.”
“Oh, Bella—”
“No, don’t be silly, I was just joking. You were hardly to blame for the war.”
The war… How could I have been so oblivious? The war had hardly entered my mind all the time I was in Savannah. My head had been so full of Russia’s troubles and my own, it hadn’t truly registered with me. The plantation was a world to itself.
“I knew you had to go,” Bella was saying. “How could you take care of us if you didn’t take care of yourself?”
Over a quarter of the men in the country between the ages of eighteen and thirty-one had joined the military. “Should it be surprising that the circus would lose a lot of men? After all, Uncle Sam was a circus man.
“Did you see those ‘I Want You’ posters in Savannah? That spiffy costume, with the star on the top hat—it belonged to Dan Rice, the most famous circus clown—he was the first to sign up. And who could blame him? Uncle Sam was always there, pointing at him, in every town.
“A few men came back when the war was over. Some of them were never the same, but we tried to give them jobs any way. Some never came back at all. Our elephant trainer John fell in the battle of the Somme.”
Ghosts on the midway, I thought in the silence that followed.
“But the circus doesn’t look empty now,” I said finally.
“I guess we can thank Lenin. Don’t tell Vladimir I said that! But it’s true. Earlier this year Lenin nationalized the Russian circus, and the western European performers fled, many of them to America. There’s some amazing talent out there, but the competition is fierce.” Bella’s natural enthusiasm had returned, her troubles temporarily abandoned. I’d forgotten how much she loved the circus. “I try to keep an ear to the ground.”
I laughed. “Any hot tips?”
“Well…” Bella leaned forward, her eyes sparkling. “There is a dark horse…” Just then Vladimir walked back in.
He sat down at the table, putting his head in his hands. “There’s something I need to confess. It’s important.” Then he paused.
With my return, I believe Vladimir felt the need to get everything out, so we could all start fresh.
“Please sit,” he said. When we did, he took a deep breath and Bella and I both knew that what he had to say wasn’t good. “Big Jim’s circus—you’ve met Big Jim Baldwin before… Well, unbeknownst to me, he’s had his sights set on our circus. It seems he wants to redefine himself and his circus and wear our family history as if it were his own. There is something vengeful underlying his actions, like he’s out to even a score. I don’t really understand his motivation. There is nothing personal between us.”
“How could he even dream he could steal who you are and what your family has built?” I asked indignantly. “Besides, everyone knows you.”
“This isn’t just a job,” Bella added. “It’s your life.”
“Yes, that’s all true, but what circus people know and what the public knows are two different things.
“Big Jim doesn’t want the Circus of the Queens because of its size; he wants our reputation, which makes him even more frightening.” Vladimir went on. “It appears that he’s been plotting and scheming, and waiting for manifestations of weakness. He wants to hurt us!”
I knew that rumors had been spreading through the circus grapevine that both Vladimir and I were both unraveling at the seams.
“I think it’s common knowledge that you’ve been gambling recklessly,” I said. “If he’s looking for a weakness, he’ll find one there.”
“That’s true.” Vladimir lowered his head. “As it turns out, Big Jim—over breakfast one morning—heard just that from a traveling advance man. And ever since those ham and eggs, I think his brain has been spinning. He arranged a card game in Atlanta and invited me to join the game, along with three more of the South’s biggest circus owners including our friend Henri. On the surface, it appeared to be a nice gesture. We were supposed to discuss business over a friendly game of cards. Of course, I couldn’t say no.
“Well, he must have been proud, for he cooked up an almost flawless cover-up. We met in Atlanta, just as Big Jim had pl
anned, and checked into our hotel. An hour later, a mysterious man dressed in all black wearing sunglasses and a fedora hat picked us up and took us to a darkly lit backroom parlor.”
“Weren’t you concerned when you saw where he was taking you?” I asked.
“Maybe a little, but it’s not the eighteen hundreds. We’re in a modern world. And I had no reason to think adverse thoughts. When we arrived, Big Jim was there to greet us like the perfect host and gentleman. I did find it strange, though, that his driver never spoke a word.
“The atmosphere was dark and rather formal. Another man in a fancy black suit escorted us to a private room. A fifth of whiskey and vodka were waiting for us on a table. The driver stood quietly in a corner observing. He could have been a fixture or a chair. He drew no attention to himself except silence.”
Vladimir barely took a breath between words, not wanting anyone to interrupt. “After a couple of drinks, everyone was feeling festive,” he continued. “And we toasted Big Jim for bringing us together. I think we all appreciated an excuse to take a night off. We toasted our driver, but he simply nodded.”
“What are you trying to tell us?” I asked, wanting to get to the meat of the matter. I was getting frustrated. I had looked at my own demons up close and in the face. It was up to Vladimir to look at his.
But Vladimir acted as if I hadn’t said a word. “Without them knowing, Big Jim arranged for the other owners to win and lose a game or two. It’s much easier to pull off a con when no one is expecting one. I underestimated the man, I never took him for being so smart. In hindsight, maybe someone else orchestrated the night.”
Bella froze at the word con. She bit her bottom lip to force her mouth closed.
“The more we played, the more we drank,” Vladimir went on. “The driver in the corner seemed to vanish into it. And before long our tongues were wagging like dogs’ tails. We talked about rising costs, unexpected losses, tours, advance men, trains, and trucks. For a while I was happy I had come.
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