She held out her arms. “Come on, ol’ man. Let your Babe help you back in.” Slowly, Euclid climbed into her arms. Holding him, babe-like, she couldn’t help but rock him a bit, to and fro, before putting him back in his cage. She took the collar off his neck. The hair was worn thin where it had rubbed, and his skin was red and festering. She gave him the rest of the peanuts, shut the cage door, and set the lock.
Euclid sat down and muttered something that made Babe smile. “Nice meeting you, too, Mr. Euclid.”
6
“If I have told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times, Mr. Renoir! Egypt is the famous dwarf elephant of Borneo, and she only works our act! She’s small and dainty and not for common labor! And neither am I!”
Babe recognized the tiny voice with the big opinions. She paused before she rounded the corner of the railroad car, then carefully peeked around it. The ramp to Carlotta’s car was down.
Carlotta was dressed all in tan—jodhpurs, linen shirt, and boots to the knee. She pointed a long pole toward the ramp and said up to Renoir, “I will bring her out so people can watch her eat and drink, but that is all until our show or perhaps one of your silly parades, if any of these jerkwater towns you book us in even have a main stem! Egypt does not lift tent poles or push wagons! You have flunkies and roustabouts for that. You even have that giant to do all that!”
“And if I have told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times, you better refer to your contract!” Renoir shouted back. “That would be the paper that also says you get your own private car and your own private meals, ma’am!”
Babe cringed at the word ma’am and peeked to see if Carlotta’s tiny fist went up to challenge Renoir.
“I didn’t want anything to do with this shabby outfit in the first place!”
“Well, you’re stuck with us now for a year, unless you can buy out your contract, and with your salary, I doubt that will happen,” Renoir said down to her, his arms folded. “And another thing, missy! I just signed a new girl four times as big as you and I can just as easily build her into the top act.”
“That giant? Ha! What can she do? She’s dumb as JoJo!”
“She may not be smart, but she’s strong! Oh, I know! The Girl Giant and the Elephant! A Battle of Brawn!” He held his hands up as if holding up a marquee.
Babe felt a heat deep inside rise to her cheeks.
“Now get that beast out of that car and put her to work! I’m tired of telling you!” He pointed to the clearing.
Babe looked at them both, wondering who was going to win this. Carlotta’s tiny boot tap-tap-tapped on the platform. Renoir stood with his hands on his hips.
“Put that elephant to work!” Renoir repeated.
Carlotta handed a long black pole up to Renoir. “Here’s my handler’s rod. You put her to work! And remember, she hates men!”
He glared down at her, his face shaking. “Fine!” he yelled. He started away, turned, and added, “But let me tell you this, young lady, I run this outfit and you do as I say!”
“Go ahead,” she said again, holding the pole up higher. “See if she will do as you say.”
He huffed off. Carlotta watched him go, then sighed heavily and leaned against the car, covering her face with her tiny hands. Babe wasn’t sure, but from the heave of her chest, she might have been crying. Then, out from the opened car door came a curious, sniffing elephant’s trunk. The girl touched the tip of the searching trunk, brought it to her check, and kissed it. “I know,” she muttered. “I know.”
Babe turned to tiptoe away, but her boot crunched up some gravel.
“Who’s there?” Carlotta demanded, coming to the end of the car.
With nowhere to turn but around, Babe stepped into the sunlight. “It’s me. The giant who pulled the privy chain.”
“How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to know I’m dumb and to hear him call you ma’am and you not giving him one of these.” She held her fist up in the air.
“That was between him and me!” she snapped. “And it’s not nice to eavesdrop!” For one so small she surely could scream.
“Sorry,” Babe said. “It’s my first day. Guess I don’t know the rules.”
“There’s just one rule you need to learn. I’m the star of this outfit.” She pointed to the writing on her private car. “See?”
“I’m just the strong act. I don’t even know what a strong act is.”
“Renoir’s been bragging for weeks about getting you signed on. But let me tell you this. I don’t give a grease spot how big you are. You’ll never be bigger than me!”
Babe’s mouth turned down as she considered that. “They say I’m still growing. No one knows how big I’ll get.”
“No, that’s not what I . . .” Carlotta shook her head. “I was being facetious.”
“Huh?”
“Sarcastic.”
“Sorry?” Babe asked.
“Sorry for what?”
“I mean what language you speaking?” Babe asked.
Carlotta cast her eyes skyward. “Obviously not yours! Just stay out of my way! I have to tend to my Egypt.”
“What’s your e-gip?”
Again, Carlotta pointed to the side of her car. “Egypt! My elephant! Can’t you even read?”
“Not a word I never seed before.”
“Well, you’re going to seed it plenty from now on!”
“How come you’re so frothy?” Babe asked.
“Frothy?”
“Miffed,” Babe explained, smiling that she had one on her now.
“Miffed?” Carlotta shouted. “I passed ‘miffed’ about six years ago!”
“Looks to me like you gots lots to be nice about.” Babe nodded to the fancy railroad car. “Don’t see why you’re so all-fired mad.”
Carlotta shaded her eyes as she looked up at Babe. She broke out in shrill, high-pitched laughter. “Why I’m so all-fired mad?” she echoed. “How come you’re not so all-fired mad?”
“I get so mad I could chew fire but that don’t make me smaller.”
“Well, I’m mad as hell about being small!”
“You reckon that makes you bigger?” Babe asked.
“No, I reckon my act makes me bigger! I’m the star of this outfit, and you best remember that! You don’t want to mess with me, you big ape!”
“Well, you don’t want to mess with me, you little fryin’-size runt! I been fighting my own battles since I was four, when my ol’ man set me to chopping my own wood so’s I could tend my own fire so’s I could cook my own vittles, so whatever you think you done bad, I done good!” Silence, as the dwarf and the giant stared each other down. The elephant let out a small trumpet as though to add her two cents to the argument.
“Kindly step aside, I have to bring Egypt out. Stand over there in the shade while I bring her out. You’ll probably spook her!”
“Would you look at that,” Babe whispered in awe as she beheld the elephant being charmed by the “fryin’-size runt.” Carlotta used only the gentle touch of her handler’s rod and her small, calming voice to maneuver the animal. The elephant’s leg cuff clanked against the wood as she walked out of the car and down the ramp, which moaned under the weight.
“Why, she ain’t so big,” Babe said, coming out of the shadows. “Thought elephants was giants.”
Carlotta pointed her rod to the railroad car once again. “It says in great big letters right there! Dwarf Elephant! You know, dwarf? Like me?”
The elephant stopped fast when Babe appeared. Slowly, her tentative trunk sniffed toward her.
“Do not move!” Carlotta warned. “No telling what she’ll do.”
Babe let the elephant sniff her outstretched hand, then her face. “Tickles,” she whispered. “She like apples?” Babe could look Egypt in the eye, the giant girl and the dwarf elephant being equal height.
“No!” Carlotta snapped. Too late, the apple was out and already being mauled by Egypt. “Do not ever feed my ele
phant again!”
“It’s only a half-et apple. Afraid it’ll spoil her appetite?” Babe smiled at the sound Egypt made as she crunched the apple. “Why, you’re cute as a needle,” Babe whispered.
“She’s not cute! She’s fearsome!” Carlotta barked. “Now move away, I have to find her water.”
“Don’t look fearsome to me. Them eyelashes is like scrub brushes,” Babe marveled as she reached out to touch Egypt’s face. “And how come she’s got such tiny eyes? Don’t she need better sight, what with lions and such?”
“Once again, if you would just read my billing! Egypt’s from Borneo. That’s an island off of India, and there are no lions. Tigers, no lions.”
“Can she see ’em lurking?”
Carlotta sighed and gave Babe an impatient glance. “Why don’t you just read a biology book? She’s got ears to hear and a nose to smell. That’s all she needs.” She tapped Egypt’s shoulder with her rod. “Hut, hut, Egypt. Follow!”
Babe stepped aside and watched in wonder. The dwarf girl leading the dwarf elephant who followed her like a puppy, her tiny tail twitching.
By eleven that morning, the carnie was set up and running. Without an act worked up yet, Renoir told Babe to walk around the grounds, holding the sign:
TONIGHT! ONE PERFORMANCE ONLY!
CARLOTTA, THE DANCING DWARF, AND EGYPT, THE FAMOUS DWARF ELEPHANT OF BORNEO
EIGHT O’CLOCK!
ADMISSION 10 CENTS
Her instructions were clear: Don’t talk, just grunt, growl, scowl, scare the kiddies. She got the usual stares and taunts but kept the sign as her breastplate and wandered among the acts, concessions, games, and displays.
Never had she seen anything like it! The ten-in-one sideshow had most of the short acts and displays. Lucretia the Lobster Woman displayed her odd hands and feet and explained she was born that way, along with her seven sisters and brothers. Her act consisted of her doing simple things one would think difficult with her hands—tying a shoelace, opening a can, buttoning a coat. Her finale was her lying on the stage and, using both hands and feet, juggling balls tossed to her by an assistant.
“Don’t miss the darling, daring, dancing girls, Ina, Mina, and Tina, the Triplets of Tripoli!” their barker called out. “Step right up, gentlemen! Hurry, hurry! Hot-cha-cha!”
JoJo got her own display. It was just her walking shyly around a small stage while the barker shouted. “JoJo the Astonishing Pinhead was found in the jungles of the Amazon, living with a family of baboons and speaking not a word! Rescued by a kindly family of God, she comes to us today as a testament to what love and caring can bring about.” JoJo, dressed now in a robe of floral print, came forward. The barker continued. “JoJo, recite for these fine people the Ten Commandments.”
The crowd hushed as JoJo pulled her thumb out of her mouth. “Thou . . . shalt . . . not”—her eyes landed on Babe—“have any other . . . giant! Hi, giant! She’s strong! She’s nice!” The crowd turned toward JoJo’s pointed finger, where Babe stood frozen. She put up the sign to cover her face and quickly left.
She continued through the sideshows, one barker’s spiel bleeding into the next.
“Sensational Señor Renaldo! Swallows swords, eats fire!”
“The Fabulous Fabians! World-renowned acrobats! Daring feats! Amazing balance!”
“Donny and His Doggone Dogs! Best dog act in the West!”
“Wire-walking Wallaces! No net!”
Babe snuck a quick look at each act as she passed, mouth open in amazement, just like the rest of the small-town audience. Oohs, aahs, taunts, and applause at every turn.
Each pass through the carnival included a trip through the dog cages to check on the mama dog and her pup, the mess tent for a sandwich and something to drink, ending at a small area, always empty, which featured just two “exotics” in their small, filthy display cages. On each pass, she gave them whatever scraps she rounded up and made sure their water pans were filled. She straightened the signs above their cages.
JUPITER! MAN-EATING BEAR!
DO NOT STAND CLOSE!
DO NOT PUT YOUR HAND INSIDE CAGE!
EUCLID!
WORLD’S SMARTEST PYGMY GORILLA!
ABLE TO CALCULATE SUMS!
DO NOT TEASE OR FEED!
The day dragged on, with three more shows, all leading up to the evening, when the sun stretched west, when the torches were lit, when people came from after work, when kids came from after school, when the main event—the elephant act—was set to go on. The pull of food aromas seemed stronger in the dusk as the concessionaires barked their goods. Popcorn balls! Sausage on a stick! Caramel apples! Corn on the cob! Cold beer! Soda drinks! Pie by the slice! Babe was in heaven!
Madame de la Rosa found Babe coming away from the mess tent, her fifth pass through. “You know, you might save a little for the rest of us,” she said, indicating the circle of candy-apple red around Babe’s lips.
Babe quickly swallowed. “Sorry, ma’am.”
“I was just joking, dear. So, what do you think of our little collection of oddities and curiosities and delights?”
“Never seed such ever in my life!”
“Yes, we’re quite an assortment.”
“Them triplet dancing girls sure gots flimsy clothes. Reckon they catch their deaths lots.”
“Ha!” Rosa laughed. “First of all, they’re not even sisters, let alone triplets! Second, well, yes, now that you mention it, they do sneeze a lot!”
From the center-stage area came a booming voice. Renoir was speaking through his megaphone, calling people to buy their ten-cent tickets to see Carlotta’s world-famous act.
“Oh, come on, Babe. You’ve got to see this,” Rosa said, pulling Babe along. Babe finished off the corn on the cob she was holding, then flung it high and over the mess tent.
The six-piece orchestra filed in wearily, plopped down into their seats, and struck up an off-key tune. Renoir stood in the middle of the performance ring, barking his ballyhoo pitch to the gathering crowds as they took their seats ringside. He wore shiny black boots, a red suit coat, black top hat, frilly white shirt, and flashed dashing smiles and winks at the ladies.
“Ladies and gentlemen, meet Carlotta, the world’s smallest girl, and Egypt, the famous dwarf elephant of Borneo!”
Carlotta entered the fenced-off area, standing on Egypt’s sturdy straight back, acknowledging the crowd with a royal wave of her leather-gloved hands. How they made gloves so small, Babe had no idea. She seemed to glimmer under the lights. She wore a riding outfit of black, a red satin shirt, and a cunning little hat cocked to the side of her head and held in place with a silky white scarf.
She started her act to great applause . . . acrobatics atop the elephant, then dancing a jig on Egypt’s flat head. After a few minutes and two stumbles, she finished her act to sparse applause.
“Is that all?” Babe whispered down to Rosa.
“Just about,” Rosa said.
“You mean I walked around all day toting this sign and that’s all there is? Just a few of them summysaults on Egypt’s back? Don’t the elephant do nothing?”
“Yeah, eats.”
“Been waiting all day to see this.” She was unable to keep the disappointment out of her deep voice. “Glad I didn’t pay no ten cent.”
“The elephant was the draw. Once upon a time, that elephant was the talk of the south, so they say. Used to do a lot of tricks. The girl was part of the deal.” Rosa looked up at Babe and added, “Well, remember I told you we’re all pretty much just old or washed-up in this outfit.”
“Bet I could teach that elephant some tricks,” Babe whispered down to Rosa. “I’m good with critters.”
“Even Donny’s dogs dance better than Carlotta,” Rosa said, frowning. “Maybe Donny could teach her some new steps. But she’s been with us since Spokane, and those are the same cheap ditties she always does. If you ask me, Renoir got played for a sucker getting saddled with this act.” She ticked her head toward Reno
ir, who was watching from the sidelines, arms folded, not smiling.
“Wait. There goes something,” Babe said, pointing. Carlotta was now jumping rope across Egypt’s flat back while the orchestra struggled to play an Irish jig.
Carlotta tossed the jump rope down and then gave Egypt a gibberish command. The elephant gracefully dropped to her front knees and stretched her trunk out until it made a long slide. Carlotta took a breath and balanced herself on top of Egypt’s head and, one foot in front of the other, slid down Egypt’s extended trunk. She did a handspring, a somersault, and then a big finish with several cartwheels, landing off-balance, then falling over, upsetting three people in the front row. Meager applause. She signaled Egypt to come closer, sit back on her haunches, raise her trunk, and issue a long, echoing RRRRRRRR! That made the crowd applaud heartily.
Rosa said out of the side of her mouth, “She has a wrangler slab axle grease on the elephant’s trunk so she can slide down.” Rosa started to chuckle. “One performance the other day someone forgot the grease. No grease, no slide! Carlotta fell off—kerplunk!—right on her teeny-weeny part that goes over the fence last! Come to think of it, that was the biggest applause she’s gotten since being with us.”
Babe snickered with Rosa. “Wisht I’d seed that!”
“Oh!” Rosa said. “Got to get to my tent! Someone might need one last fortune before heading home!”
Babe watched her dash off. “Ain’t never seed nothing like it,” she said with an exhausted sigh. She tossed the sign she’d been carrying around all day onto the ground and slowly made her way back up to the train.
7
“Babe, you cannot sleep in here! Not in this . . . this, why it’s a cattle car,” Madame de la Rosa said. “It’s for those filthy animals. This place smells like a . . . a . . . cattle car. I won’t allow it!”
Three nights sleeping on a hard, cold tile floor in the ladies’ necessary room was enough for Babe’s joints. So when they stopped to set up in Pocatello, Idaho, Babe got to thinking.
“That Carlotta gets her own car.”
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