Author: Susan Elizabeth Phillips
Category: Literature
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“I got to help Neeco git the elephant ride set up,” Digger said. “Take the babies back to the picket line. I’ll help you tether them in a few minutes.”
“Oh, no! No, I don’t think—”
“That one there’s Puddin’. That’s Tater. The one on the end is Pebbles and that there’s Bam Bam. We just call him Bam for short. Git on now, Pebbles. You mind yer manners.” He thrust the bull hook at Daisy and walked away.
Daisy gazed with dismay from the bull hook in her hand to the elephants. Bam opened his mouth, either to yawn or eat her, she wasn’t sure which, and she jumped back. Two of the elephants dipped their trunks back in the watering trough.
Now she’d give up, she thought. She’d managed to shovel out that truck, but getting any closer to these elephants was beyond her abilities. She had reached the absolute limit of what she could do.
In the distance she saw Alex watching her, waiting like a vulture to pounce on her useless carcass and then throw her away.
She shuddered and took one hesitant step toward the baby elephants. “Uh—let’s go, fellas.” She tentatively pointed the bull hook toward the picket line.
Bam, or maybe it was Pebbles, raised his head and sneered at her.
She took an uneasy step closer. “Please don’t give me any trouble. It’s been a terrible day.”
Tater lifted his trunk from the trough and turned his head toward her. The next thing she knew, she received a spray of water right in her face.
“Oh!” With a gasp, she sprang back.
Tater lumbered away, heading not for the picket line but for the trailers.
“Come back!” she cried, wiping the water from her eyes.
“Don’t do that! Please!”
Neeco rushed over holding a long metal rod with a U-shaped prong at one end. He shoved it at Tater, choosing a point behind his ear. The elephant gave a loud, painful squeal, recoiled, and immediately turned toward the picket line. The others quickly followed.
Daisy stared at the animals, then at Neeco. “What did you do to him?”
He transferred the pole from his right hand to his left and brushed his long, dishwater blond hair back from his face. “This is a hot shot. It’s a cattle prod. I don’t use it unless I have to, but they know they’re going to get zapped if they don’t behave.”
She stared at the hot shot in revulsion. “You shock them? Isn’t that a little brutal?”
“You can’t get sentimental about the animals. I love them, but I’m not stupid about them. They have to know who’s in charge or people can get hurt.”
“I’m not going to be good at this, Neeco. I’ve told everyone that I’m afraid of animals, but no one seems to be listening.”
“You’ll get over it. You just need to spend some time with them. They don’t like sudden noises or people sneaking up on them, so come at them from the front.” He pulled the bull hook from her hand and gave her the hot shot. “If they see you carrying this, they’ll give you some respect. The babies are easy to control; a couple of quick zaps, and you’ve got their attention. When you’re using the bull hook, get them behind the ears. They’ve got big nerve centers there.”
She felt as if she had been forced to take hold of something obscene. She glanced over at the baby elephants and saw Tater gazing back at her. He seemed to be taking in the hot shot, and although it was probably her imagination, she thought he looked disappointed.
As Neeco walked away, she approached the babies, giving a series of coughs so she wouldn’t take them by surprise. They lifted their heads and shuffled uneasily as they saw what she carried. Bam opened his mouth and emitted a loud, unhappy bellow.
They must be accustomed to being brought in line with shocks, and she found herself disliking Neeco Martin. The hot shot sickened her instead of increasing her confidence. No matter how frightened she was of the animals, she would never be able to hurt them, and she discarded the hot shot behind a load of hay.
She looked longingly toward Alex’s house trailer. Only three days ago, she had thought it ugly, but now it seemed the most welcoming spot in the world. She reminded herself that she had survived mucking out that truck. Certainly she could survive this.
Once again she approached them, this time without the cattle prod. For a moment they watched her. Apparently satisfied that she was no longer a threat, they returned to their happy grubbing in the dirt.
All of them but Tater. Was it her imagination or was he smiling? And did the smile have a faintly diabolical cast to it?
“Nice elephants. N-nice babies,” she crooned. “And nice Daisy. Very, very nice Daisy.”
Pebbles and Bam Bam lifted their heads to look at each other, and she could have sworn they rolled their eyes in disgust. Tater, in the meantime, lifted a clump of hay and dropped it on his back. The other babies continued to watch her, but Tater no longer seemed to be bothered by her presence, making him the most approachable of the quartet.
He dusted his back with another clump of hay. She sidled closer by a few steps until barely ten feet separated them. He began snuffling in the dirt.
“Nice Tater. Tater’s a nice baby elephant.” She crept forward another few inches, speaking to him as if he were a human baby. “Pretty boy. Good manners.” Her voice had begun to shake. “Tater has such fine manners.” She was almost near enough to pat his trunk, and her skin was clammy with perspiration. “Tater likes Daisy. Daisy’s Tater’ s friend.” She slowly extended her hand, moving it forward inch by inch, telling herself that elephants didn’t eat humans, that everything—
Swat!
The baby elephant’s trunk caught her across the chest and sent her flying to the ground. She landed so hard that she saw stars. Pain ricocheted through her left side. Her vision cleared just in time for her to observe a small, contented elephant lift his trunk and emit a youthful, and unmistakably victorious, trumpet.
She sat there, too dispirited to get to her feet. Lavender sandals studded with small silver stars appeared in her vision. She raised her head and saw Bathsheba Quest staring down at her through a pair of dark glasses. Sheba wore a stretchy white top and low-slung white shorts cinched at the waist with a lavender belt. Perched on her hip was a dark-haired toddler, a child Daisy remembered having seen with one of the Tolea brothers and his wife. Sheba stared down at her, then slipped her sunglasses to the top of her head, pulling back her hair far enough to reveal enormous star-shaped purple rhinestone earrings.
Daisy expected to see triumph in Sheba’s eyes, but instead she merely saw satisfaction, and she realized she had sunk so low that Sheba no longer even regarded her as a threat.
“Where in the hell did Alex find you?”
Shaking her head, Sheba stepped over Daisy’s feet, walked up to Tater, and petted his trunk. “You’re a little stinker, aren’t you, fella? Isn’t he, Theo?” She tweaked the toddler’s foot.
Daisy had been bested on every front, and she couldn’t take any more. As far as she was concerned, her work was done for the day, and she’d survived, if only barely. She dragged herself to her feet and began walking to the trailer only to see Alex going inside. Unwilling to face another encounter with him, she turned away and began aimlessly wandering through the circus grounds.
Two of the showgirls noticed her coming and turned away. One of the clowns pretended not to see her. She desperately wanted a cigarette.
She jumped as a terrible shrieking split the air. Her head shot up, and she saw Frankie near one of the trucks holding Jill’s hand. He pointed at her and screeched. Jill picked him up and, without so much as a word, walked away.
Daisy felt sick inside. The message was clear. She had been declared an outcast.
She walked aimlessly until she found herself at the menagerie tent. The side flap was raised, and all the animals seemed to be inside with the exception of Sinjun, whose cage still sat in the sun. The animal pricked up its ears as she approached and regarded her with disdain. It had been too dark last night for her to see the condition
of his cage, but now she noticed that it was filthy. Digger, she’d learned, was supposed to take care of the menagerie, but it must be low on his priority list.
Once again the tiger locked eyes with her and once again she couldn’t look away. Last night the tiger’s fur had seemed to gleam in the floodlights, but now it looked dull and unhealthy. She stared into those mysterious gold irises, and as the seconds ticked by, she felt herself growing unbearably hot.
Sweat pooled under her arms and gathered in the hollow of her throat. Her face became flushed, her breasts wet. She had never been so hot. She wanted to tear her clothes off and plunge into a pool of ice-cold water. She was burning up, and somehow she knew the heat wasn’t coming from her but from the tiger.
“There you are.”
She snapped her head around to see Alex approaching. He took her in from head to toe, and beneath the impact of those cool, impersonal eyes, her body grew chill.
“You have some free time before you need to get ready for spec,” he said. “Why don’t you clean up, and then we’ll see about an early dinner?”
“Spec?”
“I told you it was part of your job?’
“But not tonight. I can’t possibly do it tonight. Look at me!”
As Alex watched her, he almost relented. Every bit of decency inside him demanded that he leave her alone. She was pale with exhaustion and so filthy she was almost unrecognizable. The only cosmetic still visible on her face was a smear of old mascara below her bottom lashes. Her soft little mouth drooped at the corners, and he didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone so clearly at the end of her tether.
At the same time, he felt a reluctant spark of admiration for the mere fact that she was still on her feet. He remembered the way she’d held him off with the shovel and knew what a display of courage that had been for her. She’d surprised him today. Unfortunately, her small rebellion had simply prolonged the inevitable.
Why wouldn’t she give up? He didn’t know what hidden source of strength she’d found to get her this far, but it wasn’t going to last and he refused to torture her. He fought against the softness inside him that urged him to relent, knowing that would be a cruelty instead of a kindness. The harder he pushed her now, the sooner she would face the truth.
He firmed his resolve by reminding himself that she was a thief, and regardless of the circumstances, that wasn’t something he could forgive.
“The first show’s at six. You’re going on with the elephants.”
“But—”
He spotted a scratch on the back of her hand and snatched it up to examine it. “How long has it been since you’ve had a tetanus shot?”
She regarded him blankly.
“A tetanus shot. For infection.”
She blinked, and she looked so drained that he had to resist the urge to pick her up and carry her back to the trailer. He didn’t want to think about holding that small, soft body in his arms. If she hadn’t stolen that money, she’d have spent the night in his bed, but as it was, he’d been so furious, he hadn’t trusted himself to touch her. He hadn’t wanted to touch her.
“How long since your last tetanus?” he said more sharply.
She gazed down at the scratch on her hand. “Last year. I cut myself when I was sailing on Biffy Brougenhaus’s yacht.”
Christ. How could he be married to a woman who knew someone named Biffy Brougenhaus? The hell with her.
“Get some antiseptic on that,” he snapped. “And be ready on time for spec or you’ll be cleaning out the horse trailer, too.”
As he stalked off, his scowl grew blacker. He’d always prided himself on his fairness, but she made him feel like a bad-tempered bully. He chalked up another black mark against her.
Daisy survived spec, mainly because exhaustion had numbed her to the embarrassment of appearing in public wearing her skimpy red costume. Although Alex had told her to go on with the elephants, she’d stayed well behind them so that she looked like she was one of the Flying Toleas.
It had taken her forever to get herself clean, and her sore arms had protested every step of the process. She’d shampooed and dried her hair, then put on fresh makeup, following Alex’s instructions to apply it heavier than normal. Between shows, she’d fallen asleep in the trailer with a peanut butter sandwich in her hand. If he hadn’t shaken her awake, she would have missed her entrance
After the last show, Neeco caught her as she was emerging through the back door, the name the performers gave to their entrance to the big top. “Help Digger get the babies back to the truck.”
Digger didn’t look as if he needed any help, but this was apparently part of her job, and she didn’t want another failure for Alex to throw in her face. “I doubt I’ll be much help,” she said.
“They just need to get used to you, that’s all.”
She slipped into Alex’s blue terry cloth robe, which she’d taken from a hook in the bathroom. Although she’d turned the sleeves up, it was still enormous on her, but it gave her some modesty.
The babies were just beginning to come out through the back door, and she approached Digger gingerly. “You don’t need any help, do you?”
“Why don’t you jist walk along with ’em, Miz. They’re still skittish around you.”
She reluctantly fell into step just behind Digger and several yards away from the elephants. She had no trouble picking out Tater since he was the smallest of the quartet, and remembering the swat he’d given her, she eyed him warily as he trotted forward holding Puddin’s tail in the curl of his trunk. When they reached the picket line, Digger began to tether them.
“Come here, Bam. Watch me, Miz, so you can see how it’s done.”
She was so intent on what he was doing with Bam that she didn’t realize Tater had sidled up behind her until she felt something moist tickle the side of her neck, just inside the collar of her robe. She yelped and sprang back from the elephant’s outstretched trunk.
The baby elephant regarded her with a stubborn glint in its eye, took a step closer, and once again extended his trunk. Too frozen with fear to move, she stared at the two wiggling nostrils coming closer by the second.
“N-nice Tater. N-nice elephant.” She let out a frightened squeak as Tater burrowed into her neck, parting the front of her robe.
“Digger . . .” she croaked.
Digger looked up and took in what was happening. “You got perfume on?”
She gulped and gave a terrified nod. The very tip of Tater’s trunk dipped delicately into the small space behind her ear.
“Tater’s crazy about ladies’ perfume.”
“What,” she gasped, “am I supposed to do now?”
Digger regarded her blankly. “Do about what?”
“T-Tater?”
“Well, I don’t rightly know, Miz. What do you want to do?”
She heard a rusty chuckle. “She probably wants to faint. Isn’t that right, Daisy?”
Alex came around from behind her, and she tried to summon up a bit of bravado. “Not—not exactly.”
“You must be wearing perfume.” He reached out and stroked Puddin’. Tater, in the meantime, emitted a happy snuffling sound and let the tip of his trunk nibble around the inside of the collar of Alex’s robe to the base of Daisy’s throat.
“N-nobody told me not to.” To her dismay, the baby elephant began to nudge lower, toward the red sequined flames that made up the bodice of her costume. She remembered the spritz of perfume she’d directed toward her breasts.
“Alex . . .” She pleaded with her eyes. “He’s going to—He’s getting ready to touch my—” Tater’s trunk reached its goal. “My breasts!” she squealed.
“I do believe you’re right.” He casually patted the elephant’s trunk and pushed it aside. “That’s enough, fella. You’re getting too close to my property.”
She was so startled by his statement she didn’t notice Tater backing off.
Digger gave a wheezy chuckle and nodded toward the elephant. “Looks
like Tater’s fallen in love.”
“ ‘Fraid so,” Alex replied.
“With me?” She regarded the men incredulously.
“Do you see him looking at anybody else?” Alex replied.
Sure enough, the elephant was regarding her soulfully. “But he hates me. This afternoon he took a swipe at me and knocked me down.”
“You weren’t wearing perfume this afternoon.”
Digger rose, his knees cracking, and headed toward the elephant. “Come on, boy. Yer girlfriend’s not interested.”
As Digger led him away, Tater gazed back at her over his shoulder, looking for all the world like a love-struck adolescent. Daisy was torn between fright and a fleeting sense of gratitude that at least someone in this awful circus liked her.
That night, she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the couch. She was dimly aware of Alex coming into the trailer some hours later, and as she drifted back into sleep, she felt him pull the covers up over her shoulders.
9
Daisy stumbled up the ramp at ten the next morning. Her leg muscles screamed in protest with every step, and her arms felt as if they’d been stretched on a torture rack. “I’m sorry, Digger. I fell asleep in the truck.”
Despite her exhaustion last night, she’d awakened sometime just before three from a dream in which she and Alex had been floating through an old-fashioned tunnel of love in a pink swan boat. Alex had kissed her, and his face had been so filled with tenderness that she’d felt herself melting into the boat, the water, into his very body. The sensation had awakened her, and she’d lain on the couch until dawn thinking about the painful contrast between her beautiful dream and the reality of her marriage.