But now what? Luckett had a house somewhere, but where? She followed the shore of the creek, passing through the gold-mining rig. Looking through the forest for a light, she caught the faint scent of wood burning.
She stepped over logs and snapped any branches that got in her way. She passed Luckett’s storage shed and waited for the moon to come out from a cloud to look for a path.
“Stop right there!”
Babe froze. “Mr. Luckett? It’s me! Babe, the giant girl!”
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Please, sir. I need help. My Euclid’s gun shot. I need help.”
Their eyes adjusted and the moon reflected the steely shine of his rifle.
“What? Who’s shot?”
Babe pulled away the blanket. The rifle came down. Luckett looked up at Babe. “Your ape?”
“Please, sir. I seed you tend to Miss V. She called you doctor. You got to help me. He’s got a bullet in his leg.”
“Okay. Come on. Bring him up to the house. Follow me. Watch that log, there.”
The path widened and the light from his house shone through the trees.
“Come on. Up here,” he said, leading the way to the side of his house where a sign over the door read “Infirmary.”
He opened the door, and Babe stepped inside. Cobwebs hung from the rafters, sheets covered the furnishings.
“Here, on the table,” he said, lighting two more lamps and hanging them on poles. He pulled off the dusty sheet and the examination table under it gleamed porcelain-white in the lamplight.
“Can you get him to hold still?” Luckett asked, adjusting his glasses and unwrapping the blood-soaked bandages.
She held Euclid’s head with one hand and forced his wounded leg down with the other. “Ssssh, Euclid. We got us help now.”
“Small caliber. That’s good.”
“Just a dinky parlor gun,” Babe said.
When he turned Euclid’s leg over it was easy to tell some of the fight had gone out of the ape. “Don’t you give in, monkey,” she whispered down to him. Then to Luckett, “Can you take the bullet out? Will that fix him?”
“Hold his head. I don’t want to get bit.”
“Hesh, Euclid. He won’t hurt you.”
His eyes looked pleadingly up at her. His mouth opened, but only a trickle of blood came out.
“He might have internal injuries,” Luckett said, seeing the horror on Babe’s face.
“What’s that mean?”
“His insides. Did he take a fall?”
“Yes. But he’s got good balance and . . .”
“Maybe not with a bullet in him. I have to sedate him. He’s moving too much. God, I hope chloroform doesn’t kill him.”
Babe thought her heart would break into a million pieces. She’d cut off her own leg to take away his fear and his pain. Luckett brought out a bottle and a wad of cotton.
“He’ll probably fight this,” he said, pouring some sweet-smelling chloroform onto the cotton. Babe held Euclid’s head but in just a few breaths, he was asleep.
“If you’re squeamish, you best stand aside,” Luckett said, spreading the bullet hole open with his fingers. More blood gushed out.
“I ain’t the swooning type,” she said, stroking Euclid’s head while Luckett took forceps and probed the wound.
“Got it!” He pulled the forceps out, the tiny bullet in its grip. He doused the wound with antiseptic, then stitched the hole up.
“Okay, hold his legs still in case he moves. I want to see if I can feel anything else broken inside.”
He stopped and looked over to Babe. “What?” she asked.
“I’m feeling fluid. I wonder if it’s blood pooling.”
“Like he’s maybe, what? Broke up inside?” She barely got the words out.
“Yes. It could be just that.”
“Can you open him up and fix it?”
“Not on top of everything else. That would kill him. The best I can do is keep him sedated and see, well, see what happens.” He took his stethoscope off the surgical tray and listened. “Does his heart usually run fast?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered, shaking her head, not caring that Luckett saw her crying. “I don’t know.”
Luckett’s lips moved as he counted some beats. “I wish I knew. I’ll keep a chart and see how it changes. Maybe I can figure out what’s normal for him.”
Babe looked down, huge tears dropping onto the sheets holding Euclid on the table. Luckett touched her arm and smiled kindly. “Why don’t we let him rest and I’ll make us some coffee? The stove’s still lit.”
“I can make the coffee. Just show me where.”
“That door there opens to the kitchen.”
Babe stoked up the cookstove, filled the pot, and ground some coffee beans. Luckett came in, propping the door open so they could watch Euclid.
He sat at the table, ran his hand through his thick gray hair, and looked into his coffee cup. Babe sat on a barrel in the corner, holding her own coffee in trembling hands.
“Come sit here at the table.”
Babe indicated the spindly chairs. “Here’s fine.”
“Come on. Roll the barrel over here. You’re a guest and you’ll sit at my table.”
She did but still towered over the table and Luckett. He gave her a long, curious look. “When did you start? Growing, that is?”
“Giants ain’t borned, they’re made,” she said.
“I know. You’re the third person with gigantism I’ve met in my medical practice,” he said. Babe returned his long, serious look. This Luckett was a far cry from the prospector at the creek.
“Folk told me I was right as rain till I was about three month and then . . . POOOOSH!” She spread her fingers wide like Madame de la Rosa did over her crystal ball. “Well, up I come. And don’t worry. I won’t ask you to cure me. I know there ain’t no cure for what I got. No magic potion I can drink and shrink down, like that Alice girl in her Wonderland.”
“No, there isn’t.”
“Mind if I ask you something?”
“Depends.”
“Are you a doctor for real?”
“For real, yes.”
“Don’t look like you get much business,” she said, ticking her head toward the infirmary.
“That’s because I haven’t practiced since Val’s mill stopped running. I was the company doctor. Lots of injuries, lumberjacking and mill work.” He looked down into his coffee mug in his cupped hands. “Hard work, but nothing like battlefield work.”
“You was a war doctor?”
“Yes. When the War between the States ended, I walked away, headed west. A man can amputate only so many legs and arms; pull out only so many bullets; listen to screams; watch boys die.”
He sighed. Babe didn’t know what to say.
“Anyway, not much call for a doc up here anymore, since they opened a clinic in the area. Fancy, back-east doctors. Fine with me. I like panning for gold. There’s hope in that. Hardly any hope when a kid shows up with a leg blown off.”
“And Miss V? You doctor her?”
“Also a long time ago,” he stated flatly. “We were once . . . well, very good friends. But now, we stay on our own sides of . . .” He paused, smiled sadly, and added, “Heartbreak Creek. Huh. Never thought about that name before.”
“Lotty and me figured that name out real fast. But Miss V says it’s called that on account of there ain’t no gold in that creek and that breaks a man’s heart.”
He smiled across the table at her. “No gold, but there is hope.”
Babe looked past his shoulder. Euclid started to stir. Luckett followed her glance and they went to him. “He needs to sleep,” he said, putting his hand on Euclid’s throat and counting heartbeats.
“Laudanum worked before,” Babe said.
“Good. We’ll give him some and hope that keeps him quiet.”
He dosed Euclid while Babe opened Euclid’s mouth. He grumbled some, then fel
l back into a deep sleep.
“We better move him so he doesn’t roll over and fall off the table. Over there. Can you carry him and we’ll tuck him in good? And you can sleep right . . . oh, I guess you can’t.”
“It’s okay. Floor’s good enough.”
“I’ll bring in pillows, soften it up a bit.”
He brought in an armload of linens. They got Euclid moved and secured. “My bedroom is just across the parlor. You’ll come get me if he wakes or there’s any change?”
“I will. Thank you, sir.”
Luckett lowered the lamps so just a faint light shone down on Euclid, sleeping soundly. Babe wasn’t going to be able to sleep, so she sat down next to him, took his hand and encased it in hers.
She smiled at the peacefulness in his face and thought back on all the times he’d stuck his tongue out at her, or folded his lips up or down to make a face. She wished she’d known him in his prime or that he could talk and tell her his life story. Was he caught wild and if so, where? What secrets did he hold inside his old, gray head? Did he have any babies? Who did that to his ears?
“Sure wisht you could talk,” she whispered down to him. “Wonder what you’d tell your ol’ Babe.”
She leaned back on the wall, pulled a blanket up over her, and fell asleep.
54
Just before dawn, Babe’s eyes flashed open, awakened by a sudden, horrible silence. She looked over at Euclid, picked up his hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze, wishing he could squeeze back just one last time. She cried in big, quiet gulps of grief. This is what aloneness feels like, she cried to the beast inside. This is what being the only person in the world feels like—no, more than alone—not even alive.
Her crying brought Luckett into the room. He knelt down and put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Babe. We tried. We really did try.”
“Bet you think I’m a fool, crying like a baby over just a critter. After all them men and boys you seed die, bet you think I’m pretty dang silly.”
“No, Babe. Just the opposite. It takes a wise heart to care about creatures. Took a wise heart to let that bear go free.”
She looked at him. “You know about my bear?”
“Where do you think he’s been coming for handouts?”
“You’ve seed him? I thought for sure he was gone for good or spread out rug-like in someone’s parlor.”
“No, he comes by every day. I know I shouldn’t have fed him when he first came around. He likes my huckleberry pie. Some folks would say I’m a fool for cooking pies for a bear.”
Babe grinned, imagining Jupiter pulling a pie off a windowsill, just like they’d joked. “I’m glad ol’ Jupiter’s eating again.”
“I’ve been calling him Brownie.”
“Sure would like to see him. Been worried sick.”
“He’ll be here, don’t worry. He’s been trimming the blueberry bushes every morning.”
She wiped her face with her sleeve, looked again at Euclid, and sighed deeply.
“Why don’t you go heat up some coffee and I’ll close up things here?” Luckett said, standing.
Babe pulled herself up and trundled into the kitchen. The door latched shut behind her. She turned but knew she couldn’t, shouldn’t open the door again. Quaking with grief and guilt, she wrapped her arms around herself. Tighter. Tighter. Anything to comfort herself as she cried her heart out.
“Come on,” Luckett said, handing Babe a plate overflowing with bacon, eggs, and thick slices of toasted bread. He’d given her time and space to grieve, then cooked them both a huge breakfast. “Let’s sit on the front porch. It’s nice and cool this time of morning. Can hear the creek babbling.” He gave her an odd grin and added, “Of course, the creek babbles a lot louder after what you kids and that elephant did to it.”
“Miss V should say she’s sorry saying you made the landslide,” Babe said.
Luckett put his head back and laughed. “Oh, she will! She’s a stubborn old girl, but she’ll set things straight. Hope I live long enough.”
They sat on the sturdy log steps and ate.
“Reckon I owe you,” Babe said, setting her plate down. She pulled out the five twenty-dollar gold coins from her pocket and placed them on the porch floor. “Think this will cover things?”
He looked at the money. “No. No charge. I won’t take your money.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t need it.”
“But, no doctoring, no gold strike . . .”
“Babe, no.” There was a rustle in the bushes. “Here he comes. Right on time.”
“Jupiter!” Babe cried out, rising.
Jupiter raised his head, sniffed. Then he lumbered over and up two porch steps. He grunted Babe a hello, then started to lick her plate.
“He’s always been something of a sneak thief,” she said, giving him a bear hug.
Luckett offered Jupiter the leftovers on his plate. Jupiter took it over to the bushes to finish it in private.
“He sure looks good. He was dang puny when I let him go.”
“Nature will do that,” Luckett said.
“Sort of funny,” Babe said, looking out over the creek. “I lost Euclid but found Jupiter.”
“Nature will do that, too.”
She broke her stare. “You got a graveyard in these parts?”
“Well, all three churches have their own cemeteries over in John’s Town. And there’s Pioneer Cemetery. But . . .”
“You sure you don’t want to be paid?” she asked, pointing down to the coins lined up on the porch.
“I’m sure.”
“Then I’m thanking you for all you done,” she said, scooping up the coins.
Babe pushed the door to the infirmary open. Just the sight of Euclid, now wrapped in her quilt, made her stop, but she set her jaw against the tears, let the beast inside her rest.
She had a job to do, and crying wasn’t going to make it any easier.
55
“Oh, Babe, I’m so sorry!” Lotty cried when Babe told everyone what happened across the creek at Luckett’s place.
“Can I make me a telephone call?” she asked Miss V.
“Why, of course,” Miss V said, leading the way into the hall where the phone hung, dwarf-low, on the wall.
Babe looked down at it, then at Miss V. “What do I do?”
“We’ll have to call up the exchange operator, and she’ll get the number for you and make the connection. Want me to do it for you?”
“Yes, ma’am, please.”
She turned the hand crank. “Who do you want to call?”
“Mr. Luckett told me you got a funeral man over to Medford. I want to call him.”
“Funeral? Babe, why . . .”
“I’m getting Euclid a proper burying.”
“But, Babe . . . ,” Miss V began. “He’s just—”
“He’s just about the best friend I ever had.” She felt the burn of tears, then her eyes landed on Lotty, standing in the hall. “’Cept you, ’course, Lotty. And hell, I’d give you a right fine burying, too.”
Babe bought Euclid a child’s coffin, mahogany and lined in satin, a funeral coach drawn by two black horses, with dashing black feathers on their heads. The plot she’d picked out had a fine view of the valley from the Pioneer Cemetery just outside John’s Town. A real marble headstone marked his spot.
EUCLID
THE WORLD’S SMARTEST APE
DIED AUGUST 25, 1896
AGE 40 OR THEREABOUTS
The morning of the funeral, Babe visited Euclid. The undertaker made him look like he was peacefully sleeping, still wrapped in Babe’s quilt.
Babe folded one of his hands around a sack of peanuts. “’Case you get hungry. Never knowed you to turn down peanuts. And here,” she whispered. “Here’s the hairbrush you was always pinching from your ol’ Babe. It’s yours now. I’m keeping the mirror, so’s when we meet up again, we’ll have the whole set. Goodbye, ol’ man,” she whispered, forcing back tears. “Ain
’t never going to forget you.”
She closed the coffin lid.
56
“Babe, you in there?” Lotty called in as she peeked through the door to Babe’s room.
Babe was on her bed, leafing through a scrapbook.
“Sure is quiet around here these days,” Lotty said.
Babe looked through to the barn where Jupiter’s and Euclid’s cages now sat empty, still on the rickety wagon. “I know.” She went back to the scrapbook.
“What’s that you have there?”
“One of Miss V’s scrapbooks from her carnie days. She said since I wasn’t schooling, the least I could do was read some.”
“Oh, yes, she showed me those after we first got here. Even has some family photos in it.”
“I seed them.”
“Seed?”
“Seen. Saw. Don’t matter.”
There was an awkward moment of silence, then Babe asked, still not looking up from the scrapbook, “How was school?”
“Oh, I love it! I got nominated for Harvest Queen! I just love high school!”
“Good on you, Lotty.”
“Thanks. I have something for you.”
Babe looked up. Lotty handed her a letter. “What’s this?”
“It’s an envelope, and that usually means there’s a letter inside.”
“Who’s it from?”
“Who do you think? Rosa!”
“Rosa?” Babe’s face brightened.
“Well, aren’t you going to open it?” Lotty said brightly, popping up on the bed next to Babe.
“It’s private. Maybe you could let me just read it alone?”
“Oh. Gosh. Sure, I just thought . . .”
She popped down off the bed and headed for the door. Babe’s huge fingers struggled to open the envelope without tearing it. One look at the handwriting and she called out. “Lotty?”
She stuck her head back in the door.
“I can’t read her writing. It’s all dainty.”
“Sure. Give it to me,” Lotty said, smiling and taking the letter. She sat down and began to read.
“‘Dear Babe; Thank you for your letter! I was sorry to see you so sad.’” Lotty stopped reading and looked at Babe. “You were sad?”
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