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Authors: Marthe Jocelyn

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BOOK: Earthly Astonishments
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“Your mood is black enough to darken the sky, Charley. Maybe you could just scowl into the daylight and scare it away.”

“It’s fine for you to make fun, Jo. You go brown like a sailor out there. I blister up like old paint.”

“It’s not as though I have a chance to sniff the air myself, Charley! We’re both stuck in this cave from the morning bell till night!”

The toe of Charley’s boot was scuffed bare from kicking. Josephine had never seen him in such a mood.

“How about—?” She tried to think. What might cheer him up? “How about, let’s not go straight back to the boarding house after closing. It’ll be evening then, no sun to worry about. You can show me the sights.”

“We’re
the sights,” grumbled Charley. “But I suppose I could, if it’ll make you happy.”

Eight o’clock found them strolling away from the museum in high spirits.

“We’ll turn left on Surf Avenue,” said Charley. “Opposite to if we were going home.”

Tonight they were tourists. The street was abuzz with the evening trade. Beachgoers paused on their way to the train, hungry to shop from carts brimming with oysters, clams, corn, chowder, pork pies, and ham sandwiches. Other folk were just arriving, anticipating a night of dancing or card-playing.

Even at Josephine’s level, there was plenty to look at. She was an expert on ladies’ shoes and carriage wheels and the array of wonders to be found in the gutter of any city block. So when Charley tapped her head, she was amazed to find herself staring up at an enormous elephant made of tin. Josephine was not even as big as one of its painted toenails.

“What’s that?”

“That’s Lucy. It’s a hotel inside. With a dance floor and a store and thirty-four rooms for sleeping in.”

“Can we look?”

Charley shook his head. “Nelly would tan my hide if I took you there. They pretend you could stay there with a family, but really it’s for gamblers and drinkers and ladies who sell their affections.” He glanced at her to see if she understood. He was certainly cheered to be in the role of a tour guide.

“Nothing you like better,” said Josephine, “than to know more than every other body.”

Charley smiled at her, resting his fingertips lightly on her curls as he usually did when they walked together these days. He turned her gently around, and they headed back along Surf Avenue.

“I’ve noticed something about you, Jo.”

“And that would be?”

“I’ve noticed that your teasing skills are improving. You are almost worthy of being a sister.”

“Hah!” scoffed Josephine. “And who chose you to be the judge of that?”

He gave her a poke and she poked him back. They wandered along for a bit, noticing how the music got louder as the sky darkened and the smell of beer grew stronger.

“Did you ever eat in a restaurant, Charley?”

“Oh sure, lots of times. Well, twice. And maybe more that I’m not recalling.”

“How could you not remember eating your supper in a restaurant?”

“Nelly took me to Feltman’s for my birthday last year.
It’s in September, just before we move back to the city.”

“What’s Feltman’s?”

“See, over there: Feltman’s German Beer Garden.” He pointed to a large establishment with a street band playing outside its doors. The musician tooting on the cornet was wearing leather pants that stopped above the knees.

“Did you drink beer?”

“We ate the specialty of the house. Sausages served inside a roll instead of on a plate.”

“Doesn’t it slip about?”

“No, the bread grabs it like a mitten. But Filipe says that Feltman’s sausages are made of dog meat, that’s why they’re called hot dogs.”

“Eeeew, Charley, don’t tell me that! Think of Barker ground up and turned into sausages!”

“Hey!” whooped Charley suddenly, “I’ve got an idea! Come on, Jo! I’ll wager you’ve never ridden on a bicycle!”

Before Josephine could utter a word, Charley had left her standing alone while he galloped away toward a shed with a painted sign overhead that shouted:

W
OOD’S
B
ICYCLES
10¢

Josephine raced after him, dodging a wagon loaded with beer barrels and arriving in time to see the bicycle boy staring at Charley with deep suspicion.

“Never seen a ghost before, boy?” Charley was saying.

“No, sir.”

“Well, take a good look.” Charley lifted his tinted spectacles and bugged out his flaming eyes. The boy stepped back in alarm.

“I’ll be needing a bicycle for two cents instead of ten,” said Charley, “or I’ll be haunting you till the day you’re a ghost yourself.”

“Charley!”

“Shush!”

The boy seemed grateful to take two pennies and disappear into the shed. One minute later, Charley was astride a rusty black bicycle, wearing a grin as wide as his face would stretch.

“Climb aboard!” he said.

“You’ve lost what little brains you ever had, Charley O’Dooley! You want me to get aboard that contraption? Where am I supposed to sit?” Josephine eyed the wheels, higher than her own head.

“Oh, she’s a fancy lady now, is she? Wants a gilded carriage wherever she goes!”

Charley laughed as he leaned over, balancing the bicycle between his legs. He put his hands firmly under Josephine’s arms and swung her up, dress aflutter, to the handlebars, where he plunked her down with not a spot of respect. She clung to the bars for her very life, which set Charley to laughing even harder.

“Can you see well enough to drive this thing, Charley? I don’t want to crash into a buggy or a-aaAAAH!”

Charley had started to pedal and the bicycle wobbled
forward, finding every bump in the road and picking up speed. Josephine clamped her lips to stop herself from screaming but forced her eyes open. They rattled past vendors and shoppers alike, at a pace that made Josephine’s head spin. And perhaps because Charley couldn’t see the numerous wagons and horses clogging the road, he kept swerving at the last moment before impact.

“This is rip-roaring!” hooted Charley. “Isn’t it?”

“Oh wait, Charley! Wait, stop! No, no, keep going! Look out! Ow!”

The bicycle lurched to a stop, inches away from a small group of people at a stall that sold lemonade.

Josephine was nearly flung off, but for her quick-gripping hands and Charley’s left arm snaking around her neck at the last moment.

“Whoa!”

The roughness of the stop, however, along with Josephine’s croak of terrified laughter and Charley’s yelp of joy made the cluster of lemonade buyers turn to stare.

And who should be standing there but Nancy and Charlotte from the MacLaren Academy. Charlotte’s eyes nearly popped right out of her head, they opened so wide. Nancy clapped her hand to her mouth and spilled her lemonade all down the front of her pinafore.

“Hello, girls!” Charley greeted them cheerfully, clearly hoping for the usual horrified reaction to his appearance.
A man who must be Nancy’s father pulled out his pocket handkerchief. He scolded Charley while dabbing awkwardly at his daughter’s bodice.

“You foolish boy! Are you blind?”

“Near enough,” smirked Charley.

“How dare you careen down a populated street as if you were on a racetrack? You’re a danger to well-mannered citizens!”

Josephine couldn’t help but agree. Her palms were rubbed raw from hanging on so tightly. But Charley’s tongue-lashing could wait. Nancy and Charlotte needed seeing to first.

They were gawping at her in true shock. Charlotte’s face, so often pink, was all the way scarlet. Nancy, recovering more quickly, pointed at Josephine with a jabbing finger.

“You!” she bellowed. “You!”

Her father looked up in surprise, and then peered at Josephine more closely.

“Aren’t you the little servant person from the school?” he inquired, looking at his daughter for confirmation.

Oh, but she wasn’t their servant anymore! She could do whatever she pleased.

“You’ll have to excuse us,” she said, producing a British accent out of thin air. “We have an engagement and mustn’t be late. Please drive on, Charles!”

And Charley obliged at once, wheeling the bicycle around them and pushing off to continue their ride, acting as though nothing in the world could stop them.

MacLaren Academy
August 3, 1884

Dear Josephine,

I know you work very long hours in your new situation, so I’m not minding that you haven’t written to me yet, perhaps you did not receive my other letters?

I know that you are Little Jo-Jo now, because Nancy and Charlotte were in such a twitter when they came back on Sunday. Nancy’s father takes her anywhere that features dancing girls, Nancy says he has a soft heart for dancing girls. (I’m sure I wouldn’t say such a thing about my father unless I wanted a scolding and no supper) He wouldn’t pay for them to go into the Museum of Earthly Astonishments to see “freaks and ruffians” (his words) (also theirs, but not mine), so they were very lucky to see you. Miss MacLaren said it was a disgrace that they went to Coney Island, but she put on her spectacles and asked a hundred questions. They didn’t tell me, I heard them telling Harriet, they said you were alone with a boy, but I don’t believe them.

God Bless, your friend, Emmy

scarlet curtain, smelling of months in a trunk, separated the stage part of the tent from the audience. Hidden from Josephine by the heavy drape, the hot, rustling patrons filled the tent to its seams.

As the weeks had gone by, Josephine had begun the habit of wrapping herself in the soft, grimy folds of velvet while she waited for her cue to appear for the special stage performance. She liked the rumbling words of Mr. Walter’s ballyhoo. She could forget his sharp edges when she listened to the warm reverberation of his voice.

“Hurry! Hurry! Hurry! Squeeze in while you can!

“My Lucky Ladies, My Clever Gentlemen! You have come to Walters Hall to be Mesmerized by Curiosities of Nature, Unparalleled Elsewhere! I have devoted many years of Distant Travel and Exploration to uncover such Rare Marvels as those you will see here today.”

Josephine peeked out at the swarm of expectant faces and saw something so familiar, and yet so out of place, that it took her a moment to realize what was before her.

BOOK: Earthly Astonishments
6.77Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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