by B R Snow
“What a mess,” Josie said, staring out at the acreage behind the Inn that had been transformed into a construction zone.
“You’re being kind,” I said, glancing around at the earthmoving equipment and stacks of steel pipe and cinder blocks along with various other building materials. A group of workers and several welders were building numerous cages of various sizes and making one heck of a racket. “We must be nuts.”
“I blame your mother.”
“Me too,” I said. “You want to walk down and take a closer look?”
“No, I think I’d rather wait until they get a bit further along,” she said. “And we don’t want to run the risk of you getting run over by a bulldozer.”
“Good call. I have been a bit distracted lately,” I said, heading back toward the Inn.
“Sì, hai, amico mio,” Josie said, enunciating each word slowly. Then she beamed at me. “That translates into yes, you have, my friend.”
“You’re working on your Italian already?”
“It’s never too early to start, right?” she said, gently punching me on the shoulder. “Are you going to be okay with all these changes?”
“I think I am,” I said, glancing over at her as we headed across the empty play area. “I had a nice chat with the Chief that helped my perspective.”
“He’s a wise man,” she said. “You want to do a fridge clean tonight and watch a movie?”
“Sure, if we can eat early,” I said, holding the back door open for her. “But I’m going to have to pass on the movie.”
“You got other plans?”
“I do,” I said, following her inside. “The circus is coming to town.”
“You’re going to go watch them set up?” Josie said.
“Among other things,” I said. “You want to come with me? I doubt if the clowns will be in costume tonight.”
“Funny,” she said. “No, thanks. I’ll pass. I have some research to do I might as well get started on.”
“Like what?”
“Well, I need to check out the cooking school that we’re going to.”
“You’re going to go to cooking school with her?” I said, opening the back door that led to the dog condos.
“I thought I might,” Josie said. “I’d love to learn how to do some of the things she does.”
“When in Rome, right?” I said, shrugging.
“Actually, I think we’re going to be out in the country,” Josie deadpanned.
“Maybe I won’t miss you so much after all.”
“Yeah, right,” Josie said, making a face at me. “And I want to see if there are any rescue centers or vets in the area. I’ll need a way to get my dog fix while I’m gone. You sure you don’t mind taking care of Captain?”
“Well, it’s a lot to ask, but I think I can manage,” I said, laughing.
“Going away for a month,” she said, shaking her head. “He’s never going to forgive me.”
“Oh, I’m sure he’ll forgive you,” I said. “Eventually.”
We entered the registration area and found Jill sitting at the computer with the beagle on top of the counter watching her closely. The dog stood and wagged its tail when she saw us.
“Hey, Queen B.,” I said, gently scratching the dog’s ear. “You seem happy today.”
“She is,” Jill said, rolling her chair back and patting her lap.
The beagle hopped down off the counter onto the desk, then onto Jill’s lap. The dog placed its front paws on her shoulders and licked her face. Jill beamed at us as she stroked the beagle’s back.
“I just love her so much,” Jill said.
“Yes, we’ve noticed,” Josie said.
“So, what do you think about the idea of Sammy and me adopting her?” Jill said.
“We love the idea,” I said. “But I wouldn’t feel right if we didn’t check with the circus people first to see if Queen B. is somehow connected to somebody there.”
“Okay,” Jill said, frowning.
“I hate to do it, Jill,” I said. “But how would you feel if you lost Tripod?”
Tripod was their three-legged Cocker Spaniel they’d adopted from a litter Josie and I had rescued from an illegal puppy mill that had been operating in the area. One of the dog’s front legs had gotten frostbite, and Josie had performed the surgery to remove it. But the Cocker had quickly adapted to the loss of the leg, and if the dog now somehow fit society’s definition of handicapped, Tripod sure didn’t know it.
“Yeah, I get that,” Jill said, hugging the beagle. “What about the woman’s mother?”
“What about her?” I said.
“You said that the daughter was probably planning on giving Queen B. to her,” Jill said.
“Yes, I think that was her plan,” I said. Then I flashed back to Bella Johnson’s rotating head and her rants at her dead husband. “But I don’t think that would be good for the dog. And you know our motto.”
“Whatever’s best for the dogs,” Jill said, nodding.
“Exactly,” I said. “And I don’t know how much longer Mrs. Johnson is going to be able to live by herself in that house. She seems to be slipping away, and the news about her daughter certainly didn’t help. It wouldn’t be a good place for Queen B. I’ll let you and Sammy know as soon as I can.”
“Thanks, Suzy,” Jill said, setting the beagle on top of the counter.
The dog cocked its head at us and seemed to be studying us closely.
“You really are an inquisitive little girl, aren’t you?” Josie said, reaching out to accept the paw Queen B. was holding out. “Maybe we should just let you decide where you want to live.”
“Now, there’s an idea,” I said, laughing. “What do you say, Queen B.? You want to go back to the circus, or would you rather stay here with Jill and Sammy?”
The dog hopped down off the counter and back onto Jill’s lap. Then she looked at us before nuzzling Jill’s neck and rolling over on her back.
“There you go,” Josie said. “Question asked and answered.”
Chapter 14
I parked on the street and followed the floodlights into the public park near the water where the main circus tent was already up. I hung back and surveyed the scene of a couple of dozen workers scurrying around doing a wide variety of tasks. I recognized several of them as performers we’d watched in Brockville, and it was impossible to miss how hard they were working. When I spotted Mr. Pontilly standing near one of the floodlights studying a document, I headed his way.
“Claude,” the old man called out. “I think we should move it about ten feet to the left.”
I looked at Master Claude, the animal trainer I’d used the cattle prod on, who was dressed down in jeans and a tee shirt. He followed the old man’s instruction then began pounding a large stake into the ground.
“Hello, Mr. Pontilly,” I said as I approached. “Welcome to Clay Bay.”
He turned around, recognized my face immediately, then held up a finger.
“Hang on,” he said. “Don’t tell me. I’ll get it. You’re the one with the contract who has problems with animal acts. Hang on, it’ll come to me.” He concentrated hard with a frown on his face. “Brockville. Hang on. Suzy. Right?”
“Well done,” I said, grinning. “It’s nice to see you again. Is there anything you or your folks need?”
“No, I believe we’re all set,” he said, glancing around. “Your mother stopped by earlier and helped us get settled in.”
Good, I thought. She’ll be off the wedding plans for the next few days.
“She’s a remarkable woman,” he said. “Incredibly organized.”
“Yeah, she’s a whiz with a binder,” I said, shrugging.
“What?”
“Nothing,” I said, glancing around. “This looks like a lot of work.”
“It’s what we do,” he said, looking around with pride. “Come to town, set it up, do the show, take it down, move on to the next stop.” He nodded to himself, pleased with his summa
ry description of circus life. “Actually, using the boat on this tour is making our job a lot easier.”
“So, Samantha’s idea was good?”
“Very much so,” he whispered. “That poor girl. Tragic.”
“How long did she work for you?”
“Oh, my, let me think for a moment,” he said. “Probably close to twenty-five years.”
“Twenty-five?” I said, immediately wondering how Samantha had spent the first five years after she’d run away. “That’s a long time.”
“Not when you’ve been doing it for over sixty,” he said, laughing.
“Fair point,” I said, smiling at him. “Where did you originally find her? I mean, dog acts can’t be that common.”
“Actually, the dog act came much later. At first, she was just a hired hand. You know, helping out setting up and breaking things down after the show. A jack of all trades sort of thing. And then she started helping Claude out with the animals. Over time, she came up with the idea of the dog act, and we eventually added it.”
“What’s going to happen with the dog act now that she’s gone?” I said, doing my best to push the conversation in the direction I wanted without making him suspicious.
“Her assistant is taking it over,” he said. “In fact, tomorrow night will be her first performance with the dogs. She’s been working very hard to get up to speed.”
“How many dogs are in the act?” I said.
“I believe it’s ten,” he said. “No, I take that back. It’s nine. The other dog wasn’t in the show.”
Bingo.
I seized the opportunity to chat about the beagle.
“Other dog?” I said, going for casual.
“Sam’s personal dog,” he said. “It was a toy beagle that she had gotten somewhere during one of our tours.”
“The poor dog,” I said. “I’m sure it’s missing her.”
“No, I’m afraid the dog is gone. We think it must have gone overboard with Sam when she went into the water.”
“Maybe the dog will turn up,” I said. “Their resilience and survival instincts can be surprising at times.”
“I suppose you’re right,” he said as he looked out at the River and shook his head. “I still can’t believe she’s gone.”
A man wearing shorts and a tee shirt approached. A cigarette was hanging out of his mouth, and he was looking down at the ground deep in thought. Then he looked up and grinned when he saw me.
“Hey, look who’s here,” he said.
I didn’t recognize the face, but I remembered the voice.
“Hey, Chuckles. Right?” I said, grinning at the clown.
“That’s me,” he said, nodding.
“I didn’t recognize you out of costume,” I said.
“That’s one of the reasons I love being a clown,” he said. “Nobody ever knows who I am. Thanks again for the two hundred bucks.”
“Don’t mention it. It was worth every penny.”
Mr. Pontilly didn’t have a clue what we were talking about, and he glanced back and forth at us.
“She paid Bubs and me to have some fun with her friend at a recent show,” Chuckles said.
“Let me guess,” the old man said. “Another clown-phobic.”
“Yeah,” Chuckles said. “I thought she was going to wet her pants.” Then he focused on me. “Is she coming to the show tomorrow night?”
“I think there’s a good chance,” I said, nodding.
“Well, just let me know if you need our services.”
“I’ll do that,” I said, laughing.
“Mr. Pontilly, I need to have a chat with you if you have a few minutes,” Chuckles said, then glanced at me.
I got his silent message to get lost and looked at the old man.
“Would it be okay if I took a look around, Mr. Pontilly? I’ve never seen a circus being set-up for a performance before.”
“Of course,” he said. “But please be careful and pay attention to what you’re doing. There are a lot of moving parts going on at the moment.”
“I’ll do that. Thanks,” I said. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Chuckles.”
I headed for the tent and stepped inside. One of the aerialists I remembered from the performance in Brockville was watching another man put the finishing touches on the netting they used during their act. Then I glanced up and noticed a woman swinging back and forth on a trapeze near the top of the tent.
“Okay, we’re all set,” a man holding a wrench called out. “Ready when you are, Wanda.”
“Got it,” the woman called back.
She began swinging faster on the trapeze and made several passes back and forth across the tent. My stomach began to churn as I watched her speed increase with each one. Halfway across on her final pass, she released the bar and launched herself into the air, did a triple-somersault then dropped like a rock. She landed on the net, bounced a few times then expertly grabbed the edge of the net with both hands and flipped herself over and stuck the landing. She wiped her hands on a towel and nodded.
“That’s perfect, Jim,” she said to the man holding the wrench. “I’ll meet you guys at the restaurant around nine.” Then she did several backflips across the tent and eventually disappeared from sight.
“Nimble little thing,” I said out loud to myself.
I followed the direction her backflips had taken her and soon found myself in the same area I’d been in before in Brockville. I walked past several workers who barely acknowledged my presence, and I passed the wardrobe room where a man was digging through boxes of makeup. A woman was also in the room organizing costumes on metal racks on wheels. I continued my stroll and soon found myself outside again and heard the trumpet of an elephant. On my way toward the gigantic animal, I passed Master Claude who was staring back and forth at two cages that contained tigers. He glanced up when he heard my approach and stared at me.
“Can I help you?” he said.
“No, I’m just having a look around,” I said, doing my best not to punch him. “Mr. Pontilly said it was okay.”
“All right,” he said, giving me an admiring once-over. “I’d be happy to give you a tour.”
“That sounds good,” I said, biting my bottom lip. “I’d love to see the elephant.”
“Sure, why not?” he said, wiping the sweat from his face. “Follow me.”
I did.
At a safe distance.
Soon, we were standing next to a temporary metal barrier that was about three feet high and no more than fifteen feet across. I’d find the space confining. I couldn’t imagine how the elephant that had to weigh over a couple of ton felt about the size of his home. One of the elephant’s legs was chained to a metal post, and I felt my blood begin to boil.
“This is Beulah,” Master Claude said.
“She’s gorgeous,” I said, taking a step closer.
“Careful. Don’t get too close,” he said, placing a hand on my arm.
“I’ll be fine,” I said, taking a couple of steps forward until he had to let go.
The elephant paused from its snack of a bale of hay and made eye contact with me. It held out its trunk, and I reached out and stroked it. The skin reminded me of leather that had gotten wet then dried rough and wrinkled. The elephant continued to stare at me then lifted its trunk and gently placed it on my shoulder.
“That’s amazing,” Master Claude said. “She hasn’t done that with me in years.”
“Stop jabbing hooks in her,” I whispered.
“What?”
“I said, just look at her. She’s so beautiful,” I said, then glanced underneath the elephant. “I’m assuming it’s a she.”
“She is. You’re good with animals.”
“I have my moments,” I said, continuing to stroke the elephant’s trunk. “Beulah. What a good girl.” I glanced at Master Claude. “You know, I was at your recent performance in Brockville and noticed she didn’t perform that night.”
“Yeah,” he said, staring off. �
�I was out of commission that night.”
“Really? What happened?” I said, going for coy.
“Back spasms,” he said with a shrug.
“I bet,” I whispered to the elephant, then turned to him. “I hate when that happens. Back spasms are the worst.”
“Yeah, no argument from me,” he said, then brightened. “Say, a bunch of us are going to dinner in a while. Why don’t you join us?”
“Where are you going?”
“Some restaurant called C’s,” he said. “You familiar with it?”
“Actually, I’m one of the owners,” I said, slowly reeling my line in. “That sounds great, Claude. What time should I meet you there?”
“We’re going around nine,” he said, again placing a hand on my arm. “I’m looking forward to it. At least I am now. And after that, maybe you can show me around town. We can get to know each other a bit better.”
I almost threw up in my mouth, but I opted for casually flashing my engagement ring in his direction. He glanced at it, then shrugged it off.
“Or maybe we can grab a bottle of wine and just sit and talk. You know, some secluded place near the water.”
“One never knows, Claude,” I said, forcing a smile at him. “Okay, Beulah. You be a good girl.”
I gently stroked her trunk, then the elephant trumpeted loudly and draped the trunk over my shoulder again.
I took it that she was either protesting the fact I was leaving or warning me to stay away from Master Claude.
Or maybe a bit of both.
Chapter 15
The group of circus performers around the table, as you might expect, was an interesting collection of characters. Apart from their love of living the circus life, after an hour, it appeared that their only other shared interest was a fondness for alcohol. Mr. Pontilly was holding court at the head of the table and regaling the group with stories about circus life I was sure they’d all heard dozens of times. But since the stories were new to me, I found them fascinating except for those that dealt with the acquisition, training, and treatment of the various wild animals he had used in his circus over the years. During those stories, I tuned out and did my best not to listen by creating a mental checklist of all the things I needed to get done and humming show tunes.