“Nothing was going good for me, Lotty. You know that. Does she say any more?”
“Yes. There’s more.” She continued reading. “‘You don’t need a two-bit mitt reader to tell you some days are happy and some are sad. I hope you are happier now. I left Renoir’s outfit as soon as we hit the end of the line. I came down to San Francisco. I plan on taking the money I have saved and starting a new business on my own.’”
That brought Lotty’s face over to Babe’s. “Her big house? I wonder.”
“Keep reading.”
“‘I enclose a railroad ticket—not in a cattle car!—so you can come see me. I will let you know about my plan when you get here if you still want to come.’”
Lotty shook out the envelope and sure enough, a ticket fell out. Babe picked it up, looked at it, then over to Lotty.
“Babe, maybe that’s not such a good idea.” Lotty shook her head.
“She write any more?”
Lotty continued. “‘I think we can make a lot of money, and it will be fun! Please write and let me know what train you will be on. Your friend, Cora/Rosa.’”
Babe walked to the window. “I need me some fun,” she said into the glass. The October rains had begun in earnest, and her body ached more than ever in the chilly damp.
“Then you’re going?”
She turned around, a smile wide on her face. “I don’t got Euclid, don’t got Jupiter, and I don’t got nothing else to do but read some scrapbooks of other folks’ lifes.”
For the first time in months, Babe was planning a change—for her, Fern Marie Killingsworth, not for Magnifica. A change—not for her critters, not for Lotty, not for Heartbreak Creek, but for her.
57
Two weeks later, Babe was packed and ready. She was still full from the going-away dinner Sarah and Miss V served everyone the night before, complete with her favorite foods, pies, and even a champagne toast to her good luck and the mysteries her future held with Cora/Rosa.
Babe took one last look around her room, making sure she had everything. She strolled past the two empty cages, running her hand along the bars and smiling at the memory of Jupiter and Euclid. She pulled out some of Jupiter’s hairs stuck in the wire door, twirled them between her fingers, and placed them inside her conjure bag, still safe inside her blouse. She opened Euclid’s cage and inhaled his memory.
Out in the barnyard, Cleve pulled up the wagon, her grip and trunk already loaded.
Babe went over to the pasture and lured Egypt with peanuts. Ajax and Honeycomb trotted over for their share. These goodbyes weren’t supposed to be so hard. She felt an odd ache deep down inside where her beast usually resided.
“And you, Honeycomb,” she said, kneeling down to see if the pony would let Babe pat her nose just this once. She flared her nostrils and nipped at Babe’s outstretched hand. “Mean enough to bite yourself. You keep this little Calamity Jane in line, Ajax.” She gave his great long nose a rub.
Egypt’s trunk searched her for more peanuts and found her skirt pocket. She petted her trunk, leaned over, and gave it a kiss. “Don’t you go places you shouldn’t go. That sheriff has a job to do, and don’t you be it!”
From there, she hiked her skirts and carefully walked the plank path through the muddy barnyard. These new skirts were not for dragging in the mud.
“Look at you!” Miss V cried.
Babe fidgeted with her waistband. “Think I’ll take off this belt when I get on the train.”
“Your pompadour is lovely!” Sarah said. “And the latest rage!”
“Got enough hairpins in here to build me a bridge,” Babe said, sticking an escaping pin back into her hair.
“Have your money safe and sound?” Lotty asked.
Babe tapped the special linen bag Sarah had made for her that hung from her waist, well-hidden by her skirt. She pulled the juju conjure bag from around her neck. “Got my good juju, too.”
Finally, it was time.
Babe leaned down and gave Miss V an awkward hug. A giant can’t hug a dwarf with grace and ease. “Got to thank you for all you done,” Babe said.
“I’ve done? You’ve done! I have my mill back and running; I have my niece; I even have my elephant! Babe, thank you!”
“And thank you, Sarah. You been good to me, too.”
“Got those pie recipes I wrote out?” she said.
Babe tapped the new valise she’d been given. “Can’t wait to learn to cook.”
Lotty walked her to the wagon where Cleve was waiting. “Babe, it’s not too late to change your mind. You’ll always be welcomed back here, you know.”
“I’m doing right for me, Lotty. I know I am.”
“Well, you can’t say you don’t have family,” Lotty said, holding her hand.
“Now, if you start crying so will I!” Babe warned.
“I’m not crying.” Lotty blew her nose. “Oh, I have something for you!” As she turned to pull something out of her apron pocket, Babe turned to pull something out of her valise.
They laughed as they saw what the other was holding. “No, you keep the set!” Babe said. “I’ll just smash ’em along the way. They’re too dainty for the likes of me.”
Lotty held the cup and the saucer Lucretia the Lobster Woman had given them what seemed like a lifetime—two lifetimes!—ago.
“Do you mind if I pick you up?” Babe asked.
“Please.” She set down the delicate cup and saucer and held her arms up to Babe, who gently picked her up. They gave each other long, sweet, arms-around-necks hugs.
“You’re my hero. My champion,” Lotty said. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.”
“Ain’t no one’s—not anyone’s—hero, Lotty.”
“Yes, you are.”
Babe felt tears coming and set her friend down.
“Now, you have the telephone number. You have the address. You promised to write. If you don’t, it’s one of these!” She held up her tiny fist.
“You mean one of these?” Babe’s huge fist went up.
“Yes!”
“Got to get going now, Babe. Climb aboard,” Cleve called out, making room on the wagon seat. “And here. More books. So you can keep up your schooling.” He tapped the small leather case next to him.
“Think I’ll ride back here,” Babe said. The wagon took a dip down as she sat on the tailgate, feet dangling over the end. She wanted to see Egypt, Ajax, Honeycomb, Lotty, Miss V, and Sarah disappear slowly. Her last glimpse might have to keep for a lifetime.
“Wait! Pa! Wait up!”
Cleve held the horse up while Denny came running. Aces ran and barked alongside.
“Here, Babe,” he said, handing her a pup.
“Number three? Pick of the litter?” she said. “Thought she’d be the first to find a home.”
“I saved her for you. Everyone wanted her, but I saved her.” Denny beamed while the pup jumped up and tried to land kisses on Babe’s face.
“For real?”
“Of course for real! She’s all yours.” He shook her hand and added, out of his father’s earshot, “And thanks, you know, for . . . well, just thanks.” His face went serious as he looked down. “Oh, and I finally owned up to the whole blasting-cap thing. Me and Hank have to work for Mr. Luckett to makes things even.”
“I’m real glad I met you.” Babe had to wrestle the pup into a sitting position.
Denny took off his hat, bowed, and said, “Me too, Babe. You’re one hell of a big . . . no, you’re just one hell of a girl.”
She smiled as the wagon rounded the bend and the forest enveloped them. Babe kissed the pup, then held her up high. “Hesh. Your Babe’s got you!”
58
January 3, 1898
Dearest Babe,
I know it’s been a while since I wrote and for that, I send you my apologies. So much has happened this last year that it seems just as soon as I sit down to take pen in hand, something else comes up and I need to start all over again.
&nb
sp; Your last letter was wonderful! I am glad to see your handwriting has much improved, as well as your spelling and grammar. That night school has served you well.
The photograph I enclose was taken by Hank. That boy and his camera! As you can see, we are at a party. A going-away party—for me! I will write more later, but wanted to let you know the latest.
I am heading for a nursing school in Chicago! Yes! Mr. Luckett, although he’s really Doctor Luckett, said he knew of this nursing school. Seems that I can enroll and because of my size, they want me even more! There is an orphanage that takes in sick babies and children with deformities. The poor kids who probably won’t ever get adopted. Like you and me. All I had to do was sign an agreement to work for them for just room and board for three years after I graduate! Can you believe it? I get to be a nurse after all!
You asked about Miss V and Dr. Luckett. Oh, what a mystery! They sometimes sit on their own sides of the creek and just look at each other. But get this—the other day I saw Miss V sitting on his side of the creek and he was showing her how to pan for gold! (I don’t ask, and she doesn’t tell!) My guess is they are still in love! Can you imagine?!?
Oh! Denny! He’s president of the senior class. Hank is always in detention, though. Please let me know how your trip to the Midwest goes. I can’t wait to hear what your big surprise is, so please do write and let me know when you get there. Remember, you promised not to go back to the carnie life. No more Magnifica or anyone else you aren’t!
One of these!
Lotty
P.S. How is your beast? Mine seems to have faded away!
March 20, 1898
Dear Lotty,
Do not get mad when you read this! I am in Omaha, Nebraska, but I’m not moving a landslide or going to night school. I am performing on a stage. They call it the Trans-Pacific Exposition, which is a fancy great big fair. Not sideshow, carnie, circus, dime museum, or nickel peepshow. Exposition. So, I’m keeping my word. I am not lifting weights, looking like a monster, scaring children, or tossing drunks out of the fighting ring.
I am writing this to you now in my own dressing room in a theater that fills with customers every night and twice on Saturdays. Guess who is right here next to me. Denny’s puppy number three! She comes with me everywhere. When did you know your Babe not to tote her a critter? Did you tell Miss V I named her Valentine?
The show is called C. Epstein’s World of Unique Considerations and I am one of them. And that’s my biggest surprise! Yes, C. Epstein is Madame de la Rosa!! As you know, I have been with her since I left you and Miss V. She’s been a good friend and had enough money and connections to build this show. This is the big house she wanted! House, as in theater! Ha! Ha!
I’m billed as the world-famous giant Miss Fern Killingsworth. I come out and look pretty in a spot of light. My spiel is simple. I tell them how big I am—oh, I have just hit seven feet! I tell them about how I grew up and my time in a cheap carnie. Sometimes I show them my tattooed biceps and sometimes I lift a man. The audience gets to ask questions and I have heard some humdingers! But the best part is they clap FOR me, not AT me. What a world!
I like being a unique consideration instead of a freak, but well, you and me, Lotty, we’re lots of things, ain’t we? Ha ha! I wrote “ain’t” to make your eyes roll! We’re lots of things, isn’t we? I’m not getting smaller and you’re not getting bigger. And my beast? She’s still there. Still trying to grumble and growl to life. She sure keeps me on my toes!
What will we do when this booking is over in a few months? Rosa says all things are possible, and I think I believe her. Did you know they discovered gold up in Alaska someplace? There’s a man here making big money teaching folk how to pan for gold. I wonder if Dr. Luckett knows him! Ha! Ha!
Well, it’s showtime! More later.
One of these!
Your Babe
P.S. Some college man came and asked me if I wanted to play a game called football and if I did I could get more schooling. For free! Ha Ha. I wonder what football is.
Author’s Note
When an author creates a cast of unusual characters, usually the first question they get is, “How in the world did you come up with this?” I know I’ll be getting this question a lot now that Babe and Carlotta and their friends have been introduced to the world.
Babe and Carlotta are old friends of mine. They first appeared in an earlier novel about a half-Chinese, half-Caucasian Albino girl who becomes a sideshow sensation in 1918. In that book, The Likes of Me, Babe and Carlotta have supporting, but important, adult roles. Ever since it was published, readers have asked about Babe the giant. They wanted to know what her life could possibly have been like as a child and as a teen. Turns out I was curious, too. So I began my research and the task of getting to know these characters and the carnie world they inhabited.
I have always had a deep love and concern for animals. I was the kid bringing home strays, working for free at the stables, reading every animal book I could get my hands on, and then finally, adding a critter to just about every book I’ve written. So it was very natural to introduce Euclid the chimpanzee, Jupiter the bear, and Egypt the elephant. One can’t love animals and not be concerned about their plight and exploitation. Researching the early days of traveling circus and carnival life was difficult at times. But here is where being an author rocks. Authors can create characters who see wrongdoing and then make changes in not only their own lives, but in the lives of the animals they care for in their stories.
Every writer loves words, and I especially love slang! I love the many colors and shades in our language—after all, we don’t speak in just black and white! Because of this passion and the fact that historical fiction uses words and expressions that are seldom encountered in modern times, I developed my own database of slang and expressions. Carnival, circus, and show business slang terms from a century ago are extra colorful and, perhaps to today’s ears, a bit insulting, derogatory, or even hurtful.
At least some of the power has shifted recently, and thankfully, girls like Babe and Carlotta and other individuals with mental and physical differences and disabilities have more rights today than ever before. At the same time, slang terms show us what real life sounded like in a particular time period and are great for sparking conversations about how people who were born different were treated in eras past. Studying how slang morphs and grows and even dies over the years is fascinating. What may have been acceptable—and even common—then is seldom heard now.
It’s my hope that this information will add to the reader’s enjoyment and understanding of this book.
Randall Platt
About the Author
Photo credit by Maritime City Photography
RANDALL PLATT likes to find the story in everything. She tries to wake up every day at four a.m. to write, and on a good day she will write fifteen to twenty-five pages. If she caps it off with a game of handball or a run, it’s a perfect day. She is an award-winning author of fiction for both adults and young adults, and her novels have enlightened readers on topics including the 1918 flu pandemic, life on the home front in World War II, life on an Oregon cattle ranch, and the world of baseball in 1898. She keeps a database of historically accurate slang terms, which allows the voices she uses in her writing to feel authentic. Visit her at www.plattbooks.com, where you can read about her favorite books and her tips for boosting creativity.
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Copyright
PROFESSOR RENOIR’S COLLECTION OF ODDITIES, CURIOSITIES, AND DELIGHTS. Copyright © 2019 by Randall Platt. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by
any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
www.harpercollinschildrens.com
Cover art © 2019 by Jim Tierney
Cover design by Joel Tippie
* * *
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Platt, Randall Beth, author.
Title: Professor Renoir’s Collection of Oddities, Curiosities, and Delights / Randall Platt.
Description: First edition. | New York, NY : Harper, An Imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers, [2018] | Summary: In 1896, fourteen-year-old “giant” Fern “Babe” Killingsworth joins a traveling carnival where she befriends a dwarf and some animals, with whom she escapes the clutches of a corrupt businessman.
Identifiers: LCCN 2017057333 | ISBN 9780062643346 (hardcover)
Subjects: | CYAC: Size—Fiction. | Dwarfs (Persons)—Fiction. | Freak shows—Fiction. | United States—History—1865–1898—Fiction.
Classification: LCC PZ7.P7129 Pr 2018 | DDC [Fic]—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017057333
* * *
Digital Edition JULY 2019 ISBN: 978-0-06-264336-0
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-264334-6
1920212223PC/LSCH10987654321
FIRST EDITION
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