Years from now when Ben got close to falling in love with the girl he’d marry, he would say words at least this serious and certain. For now they were brand-new and pouring from him like water that has just broken through a high dam. For now he paused while Sal rocked gently and listened maybe, though she didn’t say Yes, No, or Maybe.
In the silence Ben heard a new man’s voice. “Who’s in there with her?”
Duffy’s voice said “A boy. A harmless boy that just loves elephants and wanted to meet her. He bought three tickets and came last night with his dad and his cousin—”
The tent flap was all but torn off in haste; and there—with the daylight flowing in around him—stood the boss of the circus, Bo Grimlet. He was short and no taller than Ben, but his face had the fury of a hot blast furnace. He looked like an actual human being but one that could melt other humans with his anger just by meeting their eyes and staring hard. Once Mr. Grimlet had checked out the sight of Sal and seen she was safe, he was staring at Ben.
But Ben spoke first. “Sir, I’m Benjamin Laughing-house Barks, a local boy. I live here in town—or just outside. My father’s an insurance agent and rides around town and the county all week, selling policies to people. I’m in the fifth grade in the only school in town; and elephants, without any doubt on Earth, are the thing I love after my parents and the home we have.”
Oddly, Mr. Grimlet said “Who’s your pitiful mother then?”
Ben said “Sir, there was nothing pitiful about her. She died last year.”
As he said that, Sal said the one word No so plainly that Ben looked back to see if Mr. Grimlet heard her.
Mr. Grimlet’s anger hadn’t cooled yet, and he walked right toward Ben with both fists clenched.
Ben tasted a mouthful of fear like cold pennies laid on his tongue.
By the time he got close enough to see Ben’s size and his actual age, Mr. Grimlet had calmed down enough to stand next to Ben and not strike him down and then lug him from the tent. He looked at Ben from head to toe slowly. “You’re halfway reliable-looking anyhow.”
Ben said “Yes sir.”
Mr. Grimlet reached down and took both of Ben’s wrists. “Let me see the palms of your hands.”
Ben knew the boss was looking for poison—maybe arsenic or cyanide—so he spread both hands. They were clean of all but the honest dirt of a day at school.
Mr. Grimlet turned both Ben’s hands carefully, side to side. He looked at the hay on the ground beneath them and kicked it aside, still looking for any poisonous powders or hypodermic needles that Ben might have used to kill this final elephant, the show’s last hope.
Ben’s voice broke in. “Sir, I’m as harmless as any boy you know. Like I said, I worship elephants; and Sal is the only one I’ve seen close up. I came out here after school today, and Mr. Duffy kindly let me in when he’d checked me out to be sure I was safe.”
Mr. Grimlet was slowly warming up. He had his hand on Sal’s trunk now—she had stopped her swaying and was standing like a statue—and he said to Ben “You know she’s bad off?”
Ben said “Are you talking about Sal?”
“You bet I am. I’m the man that owns her. She’s lost her family and, for all I know, she may be poisoned too. The stuff that vicious rascal used on her sisters was mean and slow acting. So only time will tell about Sal.” At that, Mr. Grimlet put both his hands on Sal’s forehead and leaned against her. Actual tears ran down his cheeks, and he didn’t try to hide them.
Ben could see that Sal’s eyes were still on him, so he came close enough to touch her also. He said to Mr. Grimlet “I’m planning to be a veterinarian someday.”
Somehow it struck Mr. Grimlet as funny; he gave a short laugh. But then he said “That’ll be too late for Sal and me, won’t it? It’s a fine choice, though. You’ll do a lot of good.” He stepped aside and waved Ben closer to where Sal waited.
Ben moved close enough to lay his head against the broad trunk; and as soon as he touched her, he heard the word Stay. Ben looked to Mr. Grimlet—surely he’d heard her too?
But apparently Mr. Grimlet hadn’t. He’d pulled a small folding knife from his pocket and was cleaning his fingernails.
So Ben said it aloud to Sal. “I wish I could sleep right here with you till the circus leaves.”
Sal didn’t answer him.
But Mr. Grimlet smiled and looked up. “That would be against all my rules and regulations. I have to give these creatures their rest. All this traveling is hard on their nerves. If you slept in here, you’d keep Sal awake all night and you know it.”
Ben said “I could put my sleeping bag there in the corner and not say a word. She could sleep like a baby and so would I.”
Mr. Grimlet faced Sal. Was he speaking to her in his own kind of silence and was she replying? Whichever, he looked back to Ben and said “Son, I’ll give you free passes to the rest of the shows. But no, you go along to your home now and let Sal rest. She’s working tonight.” He reached into his deep vest pocket, pulled out several free passes to the show, and gave them to Ben. “You can come tonight and come back tomorrow night—Saturday night will be the last show. Those are passes for two; bring any friend you’ve got.”
Ben was still leaning against Sal’s trunk, but he took the passes reluctantly. “Thank you, sir. I can’t come back tonight, though. My dad’ll be home alone, and I’ll need to stay with him.” Ben knew his father wouldn’t need him tonight; but now that he’d had this time alone with Sal, he didn’t want to see her in a crowd right away.
Mr. Grimlet said “All right, but that leaves you Saturday—cheer up, boy! Come out here and talk to her Saturday afternoon, and then you’ll see her in the last show that night.” Mr. Grimlet let his words settle for a moment. Then he pointed toward the open tent flap, meaning Ben should leave.
So Ben told Sal he’d see her tomorrow, and he turned to walk out. At the flap he looked back and asked Mr. Grimlet if he could maybe travel with the circus this summer and take care of Sal. As wild as that sounded, Ben knew how much it might matter in his future.
Mr. Grimlet said “No, son. You’re just too young and it’s too hard a life. You come back tomorrow morning or afternoon like I told you, and she’ll be glad to see you. Be sure you let Duffy know you’re with her, though. Don’t come in here by yourself alone. You might get hurt or you might cause damage.”
As much as Ben hated to be thought of as a threat to Sal, he said “Yes sir.”
Mr. Grimlet said “I want you to promise me now—look me in the eye and swear you won’t hurt her.”
Ben raised his right hand. “Yes, I swear.” Then he lifted the tent flap. As he stepped outside he thought he heard another word from Sal. It sounded like No again but Ben left anyhow—what choice did he have?
Most of the way home in a chilly evening, he felt like a traitor to the best thing he knew. Yet the memory of Sal’s beautiful head and body was still in the midst of Ben’s mind as he biked on faster in the gathering dark. When he had just half a mile to go, he was feeling those different things at once. He was partly a shameful traitor, partly the most loyal lover on Earth, and partly a cold boy alone in the night, a little afraid and racing for safety.
At home the kitchen light was on, and there was Ben’s father looking out the window and waving when he saw his son. Ben propped his bike by the back-porch steps and walked to the door. The first quick sight of his father helped him. This man had never done an unkind thing, not to Ben at least.
But now his voice was almost harsh. “Where on Earth have you been, boy? I’ve been worried sick.”
Ben remembered what he’d forgot in his happiness—he was now his father’s only family, and he’d scared him by not coming home in time. It was past six o’clock. He was two hours late, and he hadn’t started his share of the supper. If he told his father the honest truth, it would maybe show that he thought more of Sal than anybody else. He could just say he’d been with Dunk or Robin.
But Mr. Barks sa
id “I called Dunk and Robin. I even called your teacher, Miss Elmers. Nobody knew where you might be. I was just about to call the police when I saw you rolling in.”
So Ben knew he had to tell it straight; no white lies would do. “Sir, this afternoon after school, I stopped by the fairgrounds for just a minute to look at things in daylight. And then to my complete surprise, I met the elephant’s owner and keeper; and I got to see her—up close in her private tent. She’s the finest thing I’ve ever—”
Mr. Barks stood silently; his face was still frowning. At last he turned to the stove and stirred a big pot of black beans. Finally he said “I ought to have known you’d try that trick. I wish you’d phoned me, I’m not feeling all that well here lately. I thought you knew that much anyhow.”
Ben said “Yes I did. And I’ll make it up to you. I’ll clean out the whole garage next week.” That was a long-delayed promise he’d made more than once before.
Mr. Barks was taking corn bread from the oven, and he didn’t face Ben. “Wash your hands please and help me serve this. If you don’t want it, we can take it to the homeless.” The thought of hauling a whole pot of beans to the three old men who slept by the bridge made Mr. Barks laugh unexpectedly.
Ben joined in and soon they were in their usual places, eating beans and rice. Almost nothing was said for the first five minutes. Ben knew it was best for him to stay quiet till his father decided what to talk about, if anything.
In a while Mr. Barks looked up and said “Did you ask how much they’d charge to sell her—your elephant friend?”
That nearly bowled Ben over in his chair. “Are you saying we might try to buy her?”
His father searched Ben’s eyes as if he thought the boy had gone crazy. He even laughed a little; but then he said “No, son, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tease you. We couldn’t buy her, even if we had the room and the money. I was just wondering if they meant to sell her now her family is gone.”
“I think she matters to them more now than she ever did before.”
Mr. Barks thought about that and nodded. “She must eat ten bales of hay every day.”
“Even more—plus a lot of raw cabbage and old produce they get from the stores wherever they are.” He was making that up, but he estimated it had to be true.
Mr. Barks said “Was she glad to see you?”
Ben wondered if he should mention now that Sal had found her own private way to speak to him and hear what he said. If he told anybody it would be this sad but patient man. And Ben was almost ready to say his most secret words—“She speaks to me, Dad.” But they stopped in his throat.
He coughed once and then said “I wouldn’t claim she seemed glad to see me, but she acted very politely and she touched me.”
“Son, you understand elephants can kill anything they want to in an instant? Even lions run from them.”
Ben felt like saying “I know a lot more about this than you.” But he finally nodded. “Lions won’t come near them. But see, Sal was mostly raised in America; so she’s a lot tamer than anything wild.”
Mr. Barks said “I’ve seen tame dogs rip a black bear to shreds. Anytime you get near an elephant again, don’t forget who they are.”
Ben said “That may be tomorrow morning.”
“What happens tomorrow?”
Ben pulled out the passes for Saturday night. “The circus boss gave me these, completely free, when he saw I loved Sal.”
Mr. Barks reached out, took the passes from Ben, and studied them carefully. “They look real, don’t they?”
“Oh they are—from the boss. You want to go with me?”
Mr. Barks thought it over. “Thanks but no, I’ve had my share—and I enjoyed it. You know Dunk would give his right arm to go.”
Ben shook his head. “Dunk would get in the way.”
“The way of what?”
Ben said “Me and Sal. He’d be telling jokes, doing hand tricks to show everybody he’s nut number one. Dunk’s fine when all you want to do is laugh.”
Mr. Barks seldom looked at Ben with the hard cold eyes he turned on him now. “What do you tell your friends about me when I’m not around?”
Ben was baffled. “Tell me what that means.”
Mr. Barks waited to calm his voice. “It means that if you can talk that way about Dunk Owens, you’ll talk that way about anybody else.”
“Dad, Dunk is not kin to us. He’s a boy I know at school.”
Mr. Barks said “He’s stuck by you through some mighty hard times. You don’t have another friend as good to you as Dunk, and I don’t see any substitutes lined up to take his place. I mean, Robin loves you but she’s close kin. Dunk’s the friend to cherish. Notice I don’t have one. When I was your age, I was cruel as you are; and look at me now. I’m a lonesome man whose wife has died, and all the company I’ve got in my life is a coldhearted son who’ll leave my house in another few years, and here I’ll sit till I drop dead.”
Ben was stunned by his father’s words. He’d known how sad his father was this whole past year, but he’d never heard words like this before. First, Ben was sure they were partly unfair. Yet he could see that the man was sober. Then Ben realized that his father must have thought such things many times in the past but kept them private. Suddenly without waiting to think back through the months and years, Ben understood that what his father said might be true and fair. He’d need to think it over later.
By then Mr. Barks was eating again and not facing Ben.
So Ben said “Sir, I’ll try to do better.” And for a long moment, he thought of asking Dunk to go with him.
Mr. Barks said “Try.” Then he looked up finally and gave a big smile as faked as a clown’s.
So Ben said “Try—absolutely. I will. I’ll start Monday morning.” He ate the last of his beans and bread; and finally he said “I’m weird, I know, but I don’t want to share Sal with anybody else. I’ve just got tomorrow morning and evening to see her once more. Then she’s gone for good. This’ll likely be my last chance, forever, to be with an elephant right up near me.”
Mr. Barks said “What’s this about tomorrow morning?”
“The boss told me I could visit Sal one more time in her private tent. Then she’ll be needing to rest before the show. And then they leave.”
“Late Saturday?”
Ben said “I guess so.”
His father said “You could go back tonight. These passes aren’t dated.”
“I know. But I want to stay here tonight.”
Mr. Barks had finished eating by then. He stood and took his plate to the sink. When he looked back to Ben, he seemed much younger than he had for a while. He even looked like the man he’d been when Ben was a great deal younger than now. Before Ben could think of anything to say to thank his father for so much care, Mr. Barks looked down at his watch. “I’ll drive you to the fairgrounds. You can call me when it’s over. I’ll come back and get you.” Mr. Barks had done very few things to Ben that called for an apology. He wasn’t apologizing now, just making a genuine offer.
But before his father could speak again, Ben said “I don’t like to be gone so much.”
Mr. Barks said “I hope you’re not worried about me.”
“Not worried, no sir, but—like you said—I’m getting older by the week; and in a few years I’ll be leaving home. So I’m staying here now as much as I can.” Ben smiled as though he were partly joking, but he wasn’t and he knew it.
Mr. Barks laughed again briefly. Then his face turned serious. “Son, you’ve got to start having your own separate life. You’ve already grown four inches this year. I understand that and I surely don’t want to keep you locked up where you don’t want to be.”
Ben nodded again but looked at his hands and thought in silence “Where I want to be is alone with Sal, but that won’t happen at the circus tonight. Tomorrow morning is my best chance.”
Once Ben had gone upstairs to do his Monday homework, he kept hearing his father’s hard words—
hard but maybe at least half fair. Had he ever spent two minutes thinking of ways to cheer his father or ease his loneliness? Honestly no. Ben had lived his own life, doing just what he wanted when he had any choice. By the time he was ready to undress for bed, he knew his father’s words were fair and—more than that—true. Ben suspected they’d never quite leave him, the rest of his life, and he was right.
But of course all night it was Sal who came and went in Ben’s quick dreams. Still they didn’t wake him. So far as he knew, there were no strange creatures or spirits outside to brush his windows. The dreams that passed through his mind were as real as his visit this afternoon to Sal’s own tent. Oddly, though, again and again she sniffed his body from top to toe; but she never spoke to him. Ben tried to send silent words to her—about how glad he was to know her and how these days with her had changed his outlook on all his future.
From here on, he really would start to study hard to be a veterinarian maybe fifteen years from now. He’d be the kind of vet who works for a zoo and heals big animals of all the harm that comes their way because they’re captured and can’t find the natural herbs and medicines that grow in their native parts of the world. In his dreams Ben told Sal that more than once and in great detail, but she still never spoke. She didn’t seem sad or the least bit sick, but she kept her silence.
In the dreams Ben of course was badly disappointed, but somehow he knew this was make-believe. He even told Sal in his normal voice “Girl, this is not real. This is nice but wrong. Tomorrow morning we’ll both be rested and can share each other’s thoughts again.”
In the dream Sal nodded as if to say Yes, and that freed Ben to roll to his side and sleep like a worn-out boy till morning.
The morning itself was bright and warm. Ben woke up early before his father, so he hurried to dress and feed Hilda. Again Hilda looked no worse than ever, a tired old dog who seemed mildly glad to see him and watch him fix her food. But again she seemed to have nothing to tell him. In fact she seemed to avoid his eyes, so he set her bowl down and gave the top of her head a few rubs. Something told Ben not to try to persuade her to say more than she’d already said. Her news might turn out to be hard or sad; and if that was so, he’d rather learn it as it happened in his life, not from this poor creature that his mother had raised from an orphan pup.
A Perfect Friend Page 7