Author: Susan Elizabeth Phillips
Category: Literature
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As she raised the tube to her lips, her knees were shaking so badly she was certain he’d notice. If Alex missed, he would hit her face and, perhaps, scar her for life.
“Stop it, Daisy.”
She closed her eyes.
“Daisy . . .”
She removed the tube, but she didn’t look at him. “Just do it, Alex. Please. The longer you wait, the harder you’re making this for me.”
“Are you sure?”
She wasn’t sure at all, but she put the tube back in her mouth and closed her eyes, praying she wouldn’t flinch.
Crack!
She screamed as the noise exploded in her ears and a fierce current of air lashed her face. Her ears rang from the sound. Tater opened his mouth and bleated.
“Did I hit you? Damn it, I know I didn’t hit you!”
“No . . . no . . . it’s fine. I just—” She bent over and picked up the tube she had dropped, noting that a small piece had been sliced off the end. “I’m just a little nervous, that’s all.”
“Daisy, you don’t have to . . .”
She put the tube back in her mouth and closed her eyes.
Crack!
She screamed again.
Alex’s tone was dry. “Daisy, your screaming is starting to make me nervous.”
“I’ll be quiet! Just don’t get nervous, whatever you do.” She picked up the tube—much shorter now than it had been earlier. “How many more times?”
“Twice more.”
“Twice?” Her voice squeaked.
“Twice.”
This time she placed only the barest tip between the very edge of her lips.
“You’re cheating.”
A trickle of perspiration slid between her breasts as she repositioned it. She took a deep breath . . .
Crack! Another vicious air current whipped a lock of her hair against her cheek. She nearly fainted but somehow managed to swallow her scream. Only one more. One more.
Crack!
Slowly, her eyes eased open.
“You’re done, Daisy. It’s over. All you have to do now is style for the crowd.”
She was alive and unmarked. Stunned, she turned to him and spoke in a hoarse whisper. “I did it.”
He smiled and tossed down his whip. “You sure did. I’m proud of you.”
With a great whoop, she ran toward him and leaped into his arms. He caught her automatically. As he drew her close against him, a slow sizzle coursed through her body. He must have felt it, too, because he jerked away and set her back on the ground.
She knew he was unhappy over her refusal to make love with him since that afternoon of sweat and sex that had so deeply disturbed her. Her period had given her an excuse for a while, but that had stopped several days ago. She’d asked him to give her a little time to sort her thoughts out, and he’d agreed, but he hadn’t been happy about it.
“There’s just one more trick,” he said, “and then you’re done for the day.”
“Maybe we should wait till tomorrow.”
“It’s an easier trick than the one we’ve just done. Let’s get it over with before you lose your nerve. Go stand back where you were.”
“Alex . . .”
“Go on. It won’t hurt. I promise.”
She moved reluctantly back over to the place where she’d been standing earlier.
He picked up the longest of his bullwhips and held the butt loosely in his hand. “You can go ahead and close your eyes.”
“I don’t think I want to.”
“Trust me on this, sweetheart. You definitely want your eyes closed.”
She did as he said, but her right eyelid began to twitch.
“Raise your arms above your head.”
“My arms?”
“Above your head. And cross your wrists.”
Her eyes sprang back open. “I think I forgot to tell Trey about Sinjun’s new feed.”
“Every Markov wife in history has done this trick.”
With a sense of inevitability, she raised her arms, crossed her wrists, and closed her eyes, telling herself all the while that nothing could be as bad as having him cut the tube from her mouth.
Crack!
The snap of the whip had barely registered in her brain before she felt the lash coil tightly around her wrists, securing them together.
This time her scream came all the way from her toes. She dropped her arms so quickly she felt a wrenching in her shoulders. In disbelief, she gaped at her bound wrists. “You hit me! You said you wouldn’t hit me, but you did.”
“Hold still, Daisy, and stop yelling. It didn’t hurt.”
“It didn’t?”
“No.”
She stared down at her wrists and realized he was right. “How—?”
“I cracked the whip before I let it touch you.” He flicked his wrist, taking the tension off the lash so that it loosened and she could slip free. “It’s an old trick, and the crowd loves it. But after I snare your wrists, you’ve got to smile at the audience so they know I didn’t hurt you. Otherwise, you’ll get me arrested.”
She rubbed one wrist and then the other. To her amazement, they were perfectly fine. “What if—what if you crack the whip after you catch my wrists?”
“I won’t.”
“You could make a mistake, Alex. You can’t always get every trick right.”
“Sure I can. I’ve been doing this for years, and I’ve never hurt an assistant yet.” He began collecting his whips, and she marveled at his perfect arrogance, even as it made her uneasy.
“Things went a little better this morning,” she said, “but I don’t see how I can go into the ring with you in two days. Jack said I’m supposed to be an untamed gypsy maiden, but I don’t think untamed gypsies scream like I do.”
“We’ll think of something.” To her surprise, he gave her a swift kiss on the end of her nose, began to walk away, stopped, and turned back. He looked at her for a long moment then returned, dropped his head, and settled his mouth over hers.
Her arms entwined his neck as he pressed against her. While her mind told her that sex should be sacred, her body craved his touch, and she couldn’t get enough of him.
When they finally drew apart, he looked down at her for a long, sweet moment and whispered, “You taste like sunshine.”
She smiled.
“I’m going to give you a few more days, sweetheart, because I know this is new to you, but that’s all.”
She didn’t have to ask what he meant. “I may need a little longer. We have to get to know each other better. Build mutual respect.”
“Sweetheart, when it comes to sex, I’ve got nothing but respect for you.”
“Please don’t pretend not to understand what I’m talking about.”
“I like sex. You like sex. We like having it together. That’s all there is to it.”
“That’s not all there is! Sex needs to be sac—”
“Don’t say it, Daisy. If you say the s-word, I swear I’ll flirt with every truck stop waitress between here and Cincinnati.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I’d just like to see you try. And sacred isn’t a dirty word. Come on, Tater, we have work to do.”
She flounced off with her elephant trotting behind, if she’d thought to look back, she would have seen something that would have surprised her. She would have seen her tough, humorless husband grinning like a teenager.
Despite Alex’s protests, she’d continued to work in the menagerie, although Trey now did many of the routine daily tasks. Sinjun eyed Tater as they approached. Elephants and tigers were natural enemies, but Sinjun seemed more annoyed by Tater’s presence than anything else. Alex said he was jealous, but she couldn’t imagine attributing such an emotion to the cranky old tiger.
She studied Sinjun with satisfaction. Between adjusting his feed and his daily showers, she thought his coat already looked healthier. She gave him a mock curtsy. “Good morning, your majesty.”
He flashed his teeth at her, a ges
ture she interpreted as his way of reminding her not to get too cute with him.
She hadn’t experienced any more of those mystical moments of communication with him, and she’d begun to think they’d been induced by fatigue. Still, just being near him filled her with awe.
She’d left a bag of treats she’d bought with her grocery money near a stack of hay, and she carried it over to Glenna’s cage. The gorilla had already caught sight of her, and she pressed her face between the bars, patiently waiting.
Glenna’s quiet acceptance of her fate combined with her yearning for human contact broke Daisy’s heart. She stroked the petal-soft palm extended through the bars. “Hello, love. I’ve got something for you.” From the produce bag, she drew out a ripe purple plum. The fruit reminded her of the touch of Glenna’s fingers. Firm, smooth skin. Softness beneath.
Glenna took the plum and settled back in the cage where she ate it in small, delicate nibbles while she regarded Daisy with sad gratitude.
Daisy handed her another one and continued to talk to her. When the gorilla was done, she once again approached the bars, but this time she reached for Daisy’s hair.
The first time she’d done this, Daisy had been frightened, but now she knew what Glenna wanted, and she pulled the rubber band from her ponytail.
For a very long time, she stood patiently in front of the cage and let the gorilla groom her as if she were her baby, picking through her hair for nonexistent gnats and fleas. When she was finally done, Daisy found that her throat had tightened with emotion. No matter what anyone said, it wasn’t right for this humanlike creature to be caged.
Two hours later, Daisy and her pet elephant were heading back toward the trailer when she spotted Heather practicing with her rings near the ball field’s home plate. Now that she was no longer so exhausted, Daisy had been able to think more clearly about what had happened the night the ticket money was stolen, and she decided the time had come to talk to Heather.
Heather dropped a ring as she approached, and while she bent to pick it up, she regarded Daisy warily from the corner of her eye.
“I want to talk to you, Heather. Let’s sit down on those bleachers.”
“I don’t have anything to say to you.”
“Fine. Then I’ll do the talking. Move it.”
Heather regarded her sulkily but responded to the authority in her voice. After gathering up her rings, she followed Daisy to the bleachers, dragging her sandals the entire way.
Daisy took a seat in the third row while Heather settled one row lower. Tater found a place near home plate and began picking up dirt and tossing it on his back, part of his instinctive cooling system.
“I suppose you’re going to yell at me about Alex.”
“Alex is married, Heather, and marriage is a sacred bond between a man and a woman. No one has the right to try to break that apart.”
“It’s not fair! You didn’t do anything to deserve him.”
“That’s not for you to judge.”
“You’re a real goody-goody, aren’t you?”
“How could I be a goody-goody?” Daisy said quietly. “I’m a thief, remember?”
Heather looked down at her fingers and picked at the cuticle on her thumb. “Everybody hates you for stealing that money.”
“I know they do. And that’s not fair, is it?”
“Yeah, it’s fair.”
“But both of us know I didn’t do it.”
Heather’s back stiffened, and she waited a fraction of a second too long before replying. “You did, too.”
“You were in the red wagon that night between the time Sheba checked the cash drawer and I closed up.”
“So what? I didn’t steal the money, and you’re not going to pin it on me!”
“A call came in for Alex. I took it, and while I was distracted you got into the cash drawer and removed the two hundred dollars.”
“I did not! You can’t prove anything!”
“Then you sneaked into the trailer and hid the money in my suitcase so everyone would think it was me.”
“You’re a liar!”
“I should have figured it out right away, but I was so tired from trying to adjust to everything that I forgot you’d been there.”
“You’re a liar,” Heather repeated, but this time with less vehemence. “And if you go and tell my dad about this, you’re gonna be sorry.”
“You can’t threaten me with anything worse than what you’ve already done. I don’t have any friends, Heather. No one wants to talk to me because they think I’m a thief. Even my own husband believes it.”
Heather’s face was a picture of guilt, and Daisy knew she’d been right. She regarded the teenager sadly. “What you did was very wrong.”
Heather ducked her head, and her fine blond hair fell forward, concealing her expression. “You can’t prove anything,” she muttered.
“Is this the way you plan to live your life? Acting dishonestly? Being cruel to another person? We all make mistakes, Heather, and part of growing up is learning how to deal with them.”
The teenager’s shoulders sagged, and Daisy saw the exact moment when she gave up. “Are you going to tell my dad?”
“I don’t know. But I have to tell Alex.”
“If you tell him, he’ll go straight to my dad.”
“That’s probably true. Alex has a strong sense of justice.”
A tear splatted on the top of Heather’s thigh, but Daisy hardened her heart against any sympathy.
“My dad said if I got into any trouble, he was sending me back to live with my aunt Terry.”
“Maybe you should have thought about that before you framed me.”
Heather said nothing, and Daisy didn’t rush her. She finally wiped her eyes on the hem of her T-shirt. “When are you going to tell him?”
“I haven’t thought about it. Tonight, probably. Maybe tomorrow.”
Heather gave a jerky nod. “I just—the money was there, and I didn’t plan it or anything.”
Daisy tried to swallow her pity by reminding herself that, because of the actions of this child, her husband thought she was a thief and her marriage had been poisoned before it had a chance. “What you did wasn’t right. You have to face the consequences.”
“Yeah, I guess I know that.” She tried to dash her tears away with her fingers. “In a way, I’m almost glad you found out. It’s been hard—I know I don’t deserve it, but could you maybe tell Sheba first instead of Alex? Let her tell my dad. The two of them, they fight and everything, but they respect each other, and maybe if she tells him, she can keep him from doing completely crazy.”
Daisy sat up straighter. “Is your father physically violent?”
“Yeah, I guess. I mean he yells and everything.”
“Does he hit you?”
“Dad? No, he doesn’t ever hit. But he gets so mad that sometimes I wish he would.”
“I see.”
“And I guess I’d of ended up with my aunt sooner or later. I know she needs me to help out with her kids and everything. I guess I’ve been pretty selfish wanting to stay here. It’s just—the kids are real brats, and sometimes when they do stuff, she sort of takes it out on me.”
Daisy saw more than she wanted to, and she felt as if guilt-nails were being pounded into her.
The teenager rose from the bench, and her eyes shimmered with tears. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a jerk and got you into so much trouble.” A tear slid over her lashes. “I guess I should know how that feels better than anybody because of Terry’s kids and everything. I should never of done it, but I got so jealous because of Alex.” Her voice was coming out in little gulps. Her chest spasmed. “It’s stupid. He’s too old . . . and he wouldn’t even want somebody like me. But he’s always so nice to me, and I guess . . . I guess I wanted that all the time, even though”—She gasped for air—“even though I know it wouldn’t ever work out. I’m sorry, Daisy.”
With a sob, she turned and fled.
Daisy m
ade her way over to Tater and the baby elephant curled his trunk around her. She rested against him, trying to decide what to do. Before she’d confronted Heather, everything had seemed clear to her, but now she was no longer so certain. If she didn’t tell Alex the truth about Heather, he would keep on believing she was a thief. But if she did tell him, Heather was going to be badly punished, and she wasn’t sure she could live with that.
Over by the road, she saw Alex climb into his truck to head into town. Earlier he’d told her he had to straighten out a problem with the company supplying the donnikers and that he might be gone for several hours. She’d planned to use the time to unearth the secret purchases she’d been making the past few weeks that would transform the ugly green trailer into something resembling a home, but her encounter with Heather had robbed her of some of her enthusiasm. Still, working was better than sitting around brooding.
As she headed back toward the trailer, she felt her spirits lift. Finally she’d be doing something she was really good at. She couldn’t wait to see the look on Alex’s face.
14
“What in the hell have you done?” Alex froze in place just inside the door.
“Isn’t it wonderful!” Daisy gazed with satisfaction at the trailer’s transformation into the charming and cozy nest she’d imagined.
Cream-colored bedsheets gaily splattered with pansies in purples, blues, and butterscotch draped the ugly plaid couch, while scatter pillows in the same colors made the old pieces of furniture inviting and comfortable. She’d attached small brass rods above the yellowed blinds that covered the windows and looped them with lengths of unbleached muslin. Using pansy blue and lavender ribbons of various widths and textures, she’d caught up the fabric in soft poofs.
A silky blue-and-violet scarf camouflaged the torn shade on the lamp that sat in the corner, while several wicker baskets held the clutter of magazines and papers. An attractive assortment of mismatched containers ranging from milk-glass vases and pottery bowls to a Wedgwood blue pitcher graced the chipped kitchen countertop, along with a colorful braided cord stretched across them and attached with tacks to the wall at each end to hold them in place when the trailer was moving.
The table was set with matching place mats in a purple and-violet paisley pattern and mismatched blue willow china featuring the same colors. White stoneware mugs and two crystal goblets, one of which had a hairline crack in its base, sat next to indigo glass salad plates. In the center of the table, a chipped salt-glazed crock held a bouquet of wildflowers she’d picked at the edge of the lot.