Professor Renoir's Collection of Oddities, Curiosities, and Delights

by Randall Platt

  “I’m sorry, Babe,” Ernie said, looking down. “Renoir insisted. I’ll unhitch Honeycomb and put Ajax in a single harness. Got to be honest. I’m glad to be rid of that little savage pony.”

  “She’s a pretty thing, but she’s mean as cut snakes,” Babe said. Even she didn’t like Honeycomb, but there was no way she would just set her free to fend for herself. “But poor Ajax? You think he can haul the wagon and all that?”

  “Well, you might have to help. And Egypt can do her share. Here, look. I crooked the pony cart. Renoir’ll never be the wiser. It’s loaded with more stuff I swiped for y’all.”

  “Thank you, Ernie.”

  “Well, it’s just as well,” Ernie went on, giving Ajax a farewell pat on his big, grand nose. “Vern told me on the q.t. that Ajax and Honeycomb were heading for the slaughterhouse down in K Falls.”

  It all made sense.

  It was chaos in the dark while the horses got reharnessed, and the boxes and cages got loaded onto the rickety wagon Renoir had graced them with. Babe had made sure the tarps over Euclid’s and Jupiter’s cages were secure while they were still in her cattle car. They didn’t need to worry about this sudden arrangement. They would be the last taken out and loaded onto the wagon.

  The train engine chugged to life, puffing out steam. Three long toots warned everyone to get onboard and now.

  The torches were doused and taken away, and only two lanterns remained on the siding. Babe could barely see what was where.

  Lotty came up behind Babe and pulled on her shirttail.

  “She’s scared, Babe. Egypt is scared. She’s tapping her trunk along her face. That means she’s scared.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Down there by those willows. One of the boys helped me with her chain. She’s too frightened to even eat. Oh Babe, I hope we’re doing the right thing.”

  “You two women of the world have everything?” Renoir asked, appearing out of the shadows of the train.

  “No, we don’t,” Lotty said. “Our copy of the contract, if you please. You’ve been promising it since Eugene, and we want it!”

  He reached into his vest pocket and pulled out an envelope. “Of course. Here you are. And your last wages are inside. To the penny, as of ten o’clock tonight, July eighteenth, 1896.”

  Lotty shook the envelope.

  “Go ahead, count it, if you don’t trust me,” Renoir said. “But hurry. We’re late already.”

  “No, just as long as we got our signed contract,” Lotty said. She held the papers to the lantern and glanced at them. “Okay. Thank you.”

  “I give you both a hale and hearty farewell and a good riddance,” he said, taking off his hat and giving them a gallant, deep bow. “And good luck. You’re going to need it. Oh, and when you track me down to beg me to take you all back, make sure those flea-bitten animals have glass eyes and are on wheels.”

  Babe had never heard Lotty swear. Her blue streak of cuss words must have shocked even Renoir, by the way his eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “You just keep that up, Carlotta. You’re going to need that grit. And so, without any further ado, I bid you adieu.”

  It was the same tired line he used at the end of every show.

  He backed away into the shadows and signaled a lantern to the train engineer to take his cars from the siding to hook up with the main line.

  Lotty and Babe stood back and watched the train chug by. Friends waved from the train cars. As each car passed, Babe felt a deeper, more troubling feeling. Then Renoir pulled himself up into Babe’s old cattle car.

  “Look there, Lotty,” Babe said, pointing down the line. “Renoir’s climbing into my car. Why’s he riding there instead of his cushy car?”

  The car chugged closer, and the lantern swinging from the rafter lit the car, casting odd shadows as it approached.

  “What’s that . . . ?” Lotty said, pointing. “Babe! Look!”

  The car chugged by and there was Renoir sitting in the doorway, giving the girls a wave goodbye. And next to him was Euclid, standing in his display cage. Around the ape’s neck was the rope-noose handle Babe used to pull herself up with.

  “Euclid!” Babe screamed, running to catch the car. The train picked up speed and she ran clumsily along the track, nearly tripping in the thick, sharp gravel. “Euclid!” she hollered again. He saw her and started to jump up and down, screaming. But Renoir gave the rope a mean yank and the screaming stopped.

  “Euclid!” Babe felt her chest about to burst as she tried to keep pace with the train. It was no good. She stopped and the train picked up speed as it rounded the bend and it was . . . gone.

  “Euclid,” Babe whispered into the darkness.

  30

  “He’s a no-good, low-down crook! I get aholt of him, I’ll kill him; I tell you, Lotty, I’ll kill him!” Babe was spitting fire. That beast she worked so hard to keep inside was raging up and clawing to get out. And for the first time ever, Babe wanted to let her out.

  Lotty coaxed Babe back to their encampment by the tracks and tried to settle her down. She offered her a swig of whiskey Ernie had squirreled away for them. “It’ll only make me madder,” Babe said, sitting down and taking in deep breaths.

  Lotty sat next to Babe. “Hold the lantern. Let me read this,” she said, pulling out their contract. “We’ll just take this bill of sale to the authorities once we get settled and get Euclid back, that’s all. You know that Renoir. He’s just getting our hackles up like he always does. Don’t worry.”

  She turned over a page. Her head came up. “Worry,” she said, looking at Babe with a tight face.

  “Huh?”

  “He’s a no-good, low-down crook!”

  “Huh?”

  She flashed the papers in front of Babe. “That snake in the grass! He didn’t put Euclid in our copy of the contract!”

  “What? No, we agreed! On the bill o’ sale. We agreed!”

  “How could I trust that low-down mucker? That no-good foister cheated us!”

  Babe looked down at the papers but had no idea what Lotty was talking about.

  “Look, on page two where it lists all the inventory we bought. There’s no mention of a chimp or Euclid or even a fake pygmy gorilla!”

  “I’ll kill Renoir. He touches a hair on my Euclid’s head, I’ll kill him.”

  “Oh, Babe! What are we going to do?”

  Babe stood up. “I’m getting him back, that’s what!”

  “That train is miles away by now. How are you going to get him?”

  Babe circled their campfire, thinking. Lotty was right. She couldn’t just leave her friend and the animals to fend for themselves. Lotty couldn’t even reach Ajax’s head to harness him. They had to stick together, because they couldn’t manage alone. It was going to take two of them, working together, to even get a few feet down the road.

  “There’s nothing we can do now, Babe. Let’s check on the animals and get some sleep.”

  “Quit looking down those tracks, Babe,” Lotty said at first light the next morning. “We’ll think of something. Let’s just go find my aunt and we can figure out about Euclid later.” She reached for Babe’s hand and tried to urge her away from the tracks.

  Babe looked down at her. “Okay. But we got to do something before Renoir finds that taxi-dermy man.” She felt Lotty’s grip on her hand grow tighter.

  They pulled together something to eat and made sure the animals were fed a ration of oats, watered, and ready to move on. While Lotty doused the fire, Babe loaded the rest of their belongings onto the wagon.

  “You’re feeling cramped, huh, Jupiter?” Babe asked, passing through some apples. “You’re gonna just have to wait to stretch your legs, boy.”

  Babe pulled the tarp off Euclid’s empty cage and felt her rage begin to build again, cursing herself over and over. Why didn’t she make sure things got loaded right? Why didn’t she keep an eye on her animals?

  The girls decided to follow the trail close to the rail line and head tow
ard the train station in Medford and from there, follow Aunt Valerie’s map.

  Babe stopped the wagon where the road split into two directions.

  Lotty looked at Aunt Valerie’s map. “She says stay right and take the back roads.”

  The road was well used but dusty and made for easy going. As they walked, Babe noticed it was handsome territory, displaying more shades of green than she’d ever seen, so cool and welcoming after their summer in sun-parched towns. She took in a long breath, trying to decide if what she smelled was pine or maybe blackberries. She glanced over to Jupiter, whose nose was also high and curious.

  By early afternoon, the road divided once again. To the left, a road was closed by a rickety wood gate, and a faded, painted sign above.

  “I can’t read it so good. What’s it say, Lotty?”

  Lotty stood up and shaded her eyes from the sunlight stabbing between the tree branches. “‘Logan Logging—Proprietor, V. M. Logan. Main Entrance. No Trespassing. No Solicitors.’” She looked down at Babe, smiled, and added, “‘And No Bible Salesmen!’”

  “I like your aunt Valerie already!”

  “Well, we’re here,” Lotty said tentatively. “Now what?”

  “Think maybe you better go in alone? Meet her and, you know, maybe spring us on her one at a time?”

  “Yes, I’ve been thinking about that, too.”

  “That road ain’t too well traveled,” Babe said, noticing the overgrown bushes and low-hanging branches.

  Lotty consulted the map. “The map stops here at the gate. What should we do?”

  “You want to drive Honeycomb in?”

  “Not on your tintype! That would be suicide.”

  “Well, I think you should just walk on in then. You’re here on invite. You ain’t trespassing, and sure as shootin’ you ain’t selling no Bibles. Go on!”

  Lotty straightened her belt and fanned dust off her skirt, then stuffed a wisp of her long black hair into her straw bonnet. “How do I look?” she asked, plastering a nervous smile on her face.

  “Hell, Lotty, you’re so pretty. Everyone falls in love with you first sight.”

  She rubbed her tummy. “Feeling a little like I’m sick. I mean, I’ve never met family before. You know what they say. We only get one chance to make a good first impression.”

  “She must know you’re small.”

  “I know. I just . . . What do I say? Here we are! Elephant and all! A bear to boot! Oh, and that’s a giant! Stay away from that pony, she’s a man-killer and we’re all starving!” She took a deep breath of determination and sighed it out. She started for the gate, stopped, then turned back around. “Nope.”

  “Nope what?”

  “It’s all of us or nothing! Come on. Open this gate, I’ll drive the team in, and dang it all, Babe, we’re in this together. None of this one-at-a-time business.”

  Babe gave her friend her widest grin.

  31

  The gate groaned as Babe hauled it open. Lotty scrambled back up into the wagon. She tapped the whip over Ajax’s head. He started up, groaned, and leaned against his harness.

  Babe pushed, Ajax pulled, but Egypt was too busy, trunk held high, inhaling the new scents, to help out. Honeycomb trotted behind, objecting with snorts and pony bucks.

  “Look at Ajax,” Babe said, pointing to the horse’s flicking ears and slow, easy steps. “He looks like he’s just as jumpity as we are.”

  “I know,” Lotty agreed. “Egypt’s had her trunk high and sniffing this whole way. Wonder if she can smell what’s around that bend.”

  “I smell cookstove fire, I can tell you that.” Her stomach agreed with one of its loud, long growls.

  Finally, the road widened with trails and paths springing off in both directions. Babe felt her heartbeat pick up as they approached a clearing. On the right, a large red barn was visible between a stand of evergreens. Then on the left, a log building, and soon more and more small buildings and yet another barn. One last bend and there was the house.

  Babe stopped, holding up Ajax and their parade. “Look at the size of that house, Lotty!”

  Lotty shaded her eyes. “Lord, it’s giant-size!” Then down to Babe, “No offense.”

  “I’ve seed log cabins, but nothing this grand!”

  “Sure is quiet,” Lotty said, standing and looking around. “It’s early. Maybe no one’s up yet.”

  “This here’s a farm, Lotty. ’Course everyone’s up.”

  Just then, Egypt issued a long, deafening trumpet announcing their grand arrival and causing instant pandemonium. The screen door crashed open as a child ran through it, followed by a woman in an apron holding a broom. Terrified horses screeched and bolted in their pasture; Jupiter roared back; Honeycomb snapped her tether and ran off; Egypt snorted again and ran toward the house, her leg cuff clanking.

  “Lotty! What’s . . . ?” Babe started, but Lotty had shot down and run after Egypt. What was happening? Babe walked toward the house and there, standing, eye to crying eye, was Lotty and a woman, a dwarf woman. Between them was Egypt’s trunk, searching, sniffing them both.

  “Reckon we’re here,” Babe muttered, trying to make sense of the chaotic scene. Then, to the woman, she said, “Why, you ain’t no youngin. You’re . . .”

  “A dwarf,” the woman replied, looking at Lotty. “I’m Aunt Valerie!” Babe was struck by how very similar their faces were.

  “And you’re small! Like me!” Lotty cried. “And Egypt! It’s like she knows you!”

  Her aunt touched the tip of Egypt’s trunk, which went slowly, gently along her tiny face. The woman closed her eyes, smiling fearlessly. “Oh my God, Egypt!” she whispered, holding the elephant’s trunk to her face. “I heard you died in the Walter Main train wreck!”

  “Wait! I’m confused. You and Egypt know each other?” Lotty asked.

  Her aunt smiled and wiped her face with a large hanky. “Yes. We’re old friends. Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of Valerie the Valentine and Her Dancing Elephant.”

  “No, ma’am,” Lotty said.

  “Well, that was years ago.” Egypt’s trunk began to sniff Aunt Valerie’s pockets. “Look there. She remembers.”

  “I don’t understand,” Lotty said, pulling Egypt’s trunk back toward her.

  “Egypt’s always worked with small people. After all, in the elephant world, she’s small, too. What else do people like us do?”

  “All they told me was she was well trained and we’d hit it off. I never even knew you were small—like me. That you had an act, let alone an elephant act! I never knew anything,” Lotty said.

  “I was praying I’d find you someday. We heard some cheap carnie was coming down from Portland. Wasn’t much but had a dwarf elephant act. Then I got your letter and . . . well, let’s tend to these animals and get you girls settled. All this can wait.”

  She put her hanky on top of her hair, done up prim, proper, and fashionable. Egypt, on cue, raised her trunk and gave a mighty puff and off flew the hanky—swoosh! It floated down and landed ten feet away.

  “Look, Babe!” Lotty laughed. “So that’s why Egypt is always blowing my hats off!”

  “Uh . . .” the woman in the apron interrupted. “How about some introductions?”

  Babe thought this might be the homeliest woman she’d ever seen—maybe even uglier than herself. So walleyed she didn’t know which eyeball was looking at her. But her voice and smile were warm and welcoming, even if her eyes weren’t.

  “Oh, of course!” Aunt Valerie said. “Sarah Franklin, this is my niece, Carlotta Bradshaw.”

  “Bradshaw? The orphanage said it was Jones.”

  “It’s Bradshaw, dear.” She lightly touched her niece’s shoulder. “We’ll have a nice, long chat over lunch.”

  “I’m happy to meet you,” Sarah said. “I’m the head cook and bottle washer in this circus. See that tall stretch of water over there? He’s my better half. Cleve! Get over here! Come meet family!”

  Babe stepped away as th
e man approached to meet “family.”

  “And this is Cleve Franklin, head tree wrangler,” Aunt Valerie said. The man was shoulder-high to Babe, and he bent down with an elegant bow to shake Lotty’s hand. Egypt investigated him with caution, and he was careful to keep his distance.

  “Say, don’t mean to be nosy, but isn’t that a bear you have in that cage?” he said.

  “He’s a bear, all right,” Babe said.

  “Carlotta, aren’t you going to introduce your friend?” Valerie said.

  “Oh, sure! Sorry. Babe, these are, well, you heard their names. They’re family! This is Babe, the world’s strongest girl!”

  Babe smiled awkwardly, deciding a curtsy would be too laughable.

  “Well, come on. Now that we’re all old friends, let’s get these animals put up and taken care of,” Valerie said. They walked off toward the house, arm in arm, followed by Sarah.

  “So, how do I ‘put up’ an elephant?” Cleve asked Babe.

  32

  Within a few minutes, Cleve Franklin had moved his livestock into what he called “the bug barn” so Babe could move Egypt and Jupiter into the main barn, where they wouldn’t spook the stock. Ajax and Honeycomb got turned out into a small pasture.

  “Look at ’em,” Babe said, watching them tentatively inspect the area. “Don’t know when them critters ever had pasture. Big one’s Ajax. The pony is Honeycomb.”

  “Look there,” Cleve said, pointing to Ajax, who, with a great huff, dropped to his front knees, then leaned over and umph! rolled, kicking his legs joyously in the air.

  “Uh-oh, there goes that dang little Honeycomb, taking after poor ol’ Ajax.” The pony nipped Ajax’s neck, making him pop up and trot off. “She’s hell on wheels.”

  Inside the barn, Cleve opened up six box stalls so Egypt could have the roam of the whole area. He stood well back while Babe unhooked the elephant’s leg cuff.