Heart Appearances (Truly Yours Digital Editions Book 560) (14 page)

Brent cleared his throat and stepped down. “Ahem, yes. Shall we proceed?”

Darcy darted a somber glance his way, one he didn’t see. Brent would never accept her as a lady, no matter what she did to improve herself. Tommy slipped his hand into hers while the other boys scampered ahead. “Somethin’ the matter, Miss Darcy?”

His earnest brown eyes held concern, and she forced a smile. “Nothing for you to fret about. Now, as Mr. Thomas so aptly put it—let’s have fun!” She squeezed his plump hand, and he grinned.

At the entrance, a wide banner billowed with the frequent gusts of wind that beat against it and proclaimed in large block letters: R
ENWALDI’S
P
REMIER
C
ARNIVAL
.
Darcy took her first look at the fair. Twin rows of tents and buildings stretched into the distance, sitting closely side by side. The buildings bore elaborately carved and painted fronts. Jewel-colored pennants waved from the top of many. On closer inspection, Darcy saw that the makeshift buildings were narrow in size, and the fronts were false.

A wooden platform extended across the front of every building. One to three carnival workers—easy to recognize because of their outlandish dress—stood on each platform, facing the small crowds that gathered. From what Darcy could see of the aggressive barkers, they enticed anyone with “enough courage” to walk up the five steps and seek the mystery of what lay inside the buildings behind them.

Monstrous mechanical gadgets packed with people whirled round and round. From somewhere within the circular contraption that bore decorated wooden horses, lively organ music played. Laughter, screams, and the sounds of machinery clicking and clanging punctuated the air. Darcy’s eyes widened when she noticed a machine built like a huge, spoked wheel. It slowly revolved and took people high—very high—to the top and then
whooshed
them to the ground again to repeat the process. Her stomach lurched just watching the spectacle.

As they moved farther into the noisy, exciting, and somewhat frightening world, the sudden amplified voice of a man captured Darcy’s attention. She turned, and the boys followed, as curious as she. They made their way to the platform where a carnival worker stood and bent slightly toward the crowd of onlookers. In one hand he held a bamboo cane, which he waved about with a flourish while he spoke through a megaphone.

“Hurry, hurry—step right up and see Carelli’s amazing freak show. The sights inside will astound you. The phenomenon within these four walls will mystify you. See Bruce, the strongest man in the world, lift five hundred pounds. That’s right, folks, I said five hundred pounds.”

A hairy, well-muscled bald man, wearing no more than a leopard-skin wrap around his thick middle, stepped from beyond the red curtain in the arched center of the false-fronted building. Teeth bared in an awful grimace, he took a stand at the opposite end of the platform. He bent at the waist, held his thick arms bowed out like a gorilla, and growled. A woman onlooker in front shrieked and clapped her hands to her mouth, taking a step back into the growing throng of people. Her companion put his arm around her shoulder in reassurance.

“See Lila, a true freak of nature, and only one of many abnormalities that lie beyond the crimson curtain,” the hawker continued. Turning, he gestured with his cane toward the entrance. A young woman stepped from behind the drape to stand on the platform not far from where Darcy stood.

Darcy gasped, the rest of the hawker’s speech wafting over her like so much nonsense. Lila’s features were feminine, her ringed hands next to her full lilac skirts dainty, her body curved in all the right places. Yet she sported a full curly beard that matched her dark hair. For a moment, her thickly lashed brown eyes met Darcy’s sympathetic ones; the bold, indifferent look flickered—but only for a moment. The young woman lifted her whiskered chin and stared Darcy down until she looked away uneasily.

“For only the price of a penny,” the hawker continued, “you can witness these shocking freaks of nature and more. But only if you dare.” At this, he flashed a wicked smile beneath his waxed handlebar mustache, revealing all his teeth. His last words were a certain lure to ignite every male’s determination to prove his courage.

And the boys were no exception.

“Let’s go in,” Lance cried. “I ain’t skeered!”

“I want to see the freaks,” Joel said.

“Can we go in, please, Miss Darcy?” Tommy asked, tugging her sleeve.

“I, uh, don’t know,” she hedged, throwing a glance that cried “help” Brent’s way. He looked just as perplexed.

“Perhaps we should find something else to do,” he suggested quickly. “It appears that there are many activities to see and do at a carnival.”

Obviously he felt as Darcy did. Curiosity had lured them to listen to the hawker. Shock kept them rooted to the ground through the spiel. But neither wanted to see what lay beyond the crimson curtain.

“Then again, it might do the lads some good,” Michael deliberated. “And make them grateful for what they have. I say we take them inside.”

Brent and Darcy stared at one another. Michael usually got the last word.

“If you’d rather not go, you can wait here,” Brent said, his tone apologetic. “Mr. Larkin and I can oversee the boys in such a confined space.”

Darcy gave a slight nod, her gaze traveling to the bearded lady. With a haughty lift of her chin, Lila stared at the crowd ogling her, then turned on her heel and marched back through the curtain. The strong man followed.

“No,” Darcy murmured before she could think twice. Something about the bitter woman with the empty eyes caused her to state, “On second thought, I think I’ll join you.”

❧

Michael paid their admission, and they took the stairs up to the platform. The hawker held back the heavy velvet curtain as they stepped through the entrance.

Kerosene lamps lit the rectangular room, and swaths of crimson and black material were draped in front of the lanterns, giving off a subdued glow and adding to the mystery. A rough wooden stage with a black curtain that shielded what was beyond took up one entire side of the cramped room, which smelled of newly sawed wood. Wooden folding chairs sat lined up front, and many observers had already taken a seat. Brent motioned to six free chairs in the fourth of five rows.

Once seated, Darcy stared at the curtain. The hawker gave another spiel designed to get every heart pumping with fear of the unknown. Darcy almost changed her mind and left, but at that moment the curtain rose. She gasped, eyes wide. Seated on high stools for the people to gawk at were some of the most pitiful sights she’d ever seen.

Besides the bearded lady and the strong man, there was a man so thin one could see his blue veins, tendons, and bones through his translucent skin. Two young girls joined at the hip were propped against the same stool. A man with a head much too small for his body looked dully out at the audience. A woman so short she would likely come to Darcy’s knees stood on one of the stools.

The hawker ordered them to the front, one by one, in order to perform some act that emphasized their deformity. Darcy wrinkled her brow, and fear melted into pity. She watched when a scoffing older boy was given the hawker’s permission to pull on the bearded lady’s chin to see if her whiskers were real. The woman flinched in pain at the cruel tug. Nervous laughter filtered through the room.

“I love every one of them, My daughter. And I want you to show them My love, as I have shown My love for you.”

Darcy’s eyes opened wide when she heard the gentle voice deep within her spirit—the voice she had come to know this past year through time spent with Him. “How, Lord?”

“Did you say something?” Brent whispered.

Darcy shook her head, not realizing she’d spoken aloud. Again she closed her eyes and concentrated, but she heard no reply to her question.

After the humiliating exhibit ended, the curtain lowered and the crowd was ushered outside. Annoyed, Darcy stood her ground. “May I speak with the others?” she asked the hawker.

“The freaks?” he said in surprise. “Why would you want to speak to them? You a reporter? News reporters are supposed to go through the general manager, Mr. Carson.”

“No, I’m not a reporter.” Darcy lifted her chin and stared him down, then reminded herself that ladies were supposed to be polite, as Charleigh had taught her. With difficulty, she forced her features into a pleasant expression. “I won’t take up much of their time. I only want to talk with them for a few minutes. Perhaps I could just talk to Lila?”

“Sorry, Miss, but fraternizing with the freaks ain’t allowed.” He chewed on the stump of a cigar, giving her a level look. “But don’t you go botherin’ that pretty head o’ yours about them. They’s fed and well cared for, like all the other animals. So don’t you worry none.” With that, he strutted back to the entrance, twirling his cane as he did.

Darcy stuck out her tongue at his back. She couldn’t help herself. When she realized she probably had an audience of three impressionable boys, she inwardly groaned and turned to face them, wondering how to explain her behavior. Thankfully their attention was engrossed in some dreadful ride on the midway.

Sometimes it was so hard acting respectable, like a Christian was supposed to act. Like a lady was required to act. Sighing noisily, she joined the others. She hoped this particular ride wasn’t next on their agenda.

❧

As the day progressed, they visited a flea circus, a crazy house of mirrors, and a penny vaudeville featuring a pair of limber dancers. With his flat feet, Brent had never been able to dance well, but he enjoyed watching the spectacle, as he admired all things of beauty.

The boys looked on with bored expressions, obviously not sharing his sentiments. Lance began making rude noises with his hands and armpits, and Michael quickly escorted him outside. Only when a juggler took the stage did the other two boys perk up and strain on the edges of their seats in order to see better.

Throughout the afternoon Brent sent several worried stares Darcy’s way. She’d been unusually quiet ever since the freak show. The event had disturbed him as well. Not so much the physical imperfections and abnormalities, though Brent would be lying if he didn’t admit to being a bit repulsed. Still, he felt sympathy for those people, who were forced to act like trained monkeys and entertain others.

Remembering the gasps of revulsion and the jeers from the so-called “normal” people in the audience, Brent was reminded of the games in the ancient Roman colosseum. The only difference he could see between the two was that the Romans had once held games of sport to kill the flesh. This sideshow had been designed to kill the spirit of those on exhibit. He frowned at the memory, wishing to put the event far behind him. Once the juggler exited the stage, he suggested they eat.

The huge lunch Irma had prepared didn’t satisfy the boys, who insisted on roasted peanuts, candy apples, and other treats—all of which Michael readily supplied. Brent shook his head, thinking of the bicarbonate of soda that would likely be administered to three stomachaches tonight. Four, if Darcy kept at it. Her disturbance over the sideshow didn’t seem to affect her appetite. Of course, he knew she was partial to fruit, but three candy apples and a small paper bag of sugared orange slices was taking it a bit far.

They passed a tall man in a clown suit handing out balloons to children. The man wore a green-and-white polka-dot shirt with a yellow bow tie, dark baggy pants, and a tiny hat on his head. His face was hidden behind layers of white and black paint, and a huge red frown replaced the usual clown smile.

“Would you like a balloon?” Michael asked the boys.

Joel and Lance both looked the clown’s way but shook their heads. “Naw, them’s for babies,” Lance said. “Can we ride that?” He pointed to the upright circular monstrosity with seats resembling buckets.

“The Ferris wheel,” Michael said, nodding. “I don’t see why not.”

Joel cocked his head. “You been to a carnival before, Mr. Larkin? You know the names of all the rides.”

Michael smiled. “I’ve been to Coney Island’s amusement park. It’s a lot like this, only on a much grander scale.”

As they drew closer to the Ferris wheel, Tommy’s face blanched. “Do we have to ride on that if we don’t want to?” he all but whispered.

Darcy gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Of course not. We can find something else to do while the others ride.”

Michael nodded down the midway to the revolving ride with the painted wooden horses attached. “Why not take the lad on the carousel?”

Tommy nodded, smiling. “I do like horses, even if they ain’t real.”

Joel looked in that direction. “I’d like to go on that too.”

Brent stared at him skeptically. He would have figured Joel would be interested in the more thrilling ride.

“I’ll take Lance,” Michael said. “You two take the others. We’ll meet at the hippodrome afterwards.”

“And see the Wild West show and the wild animals there?” Lance said hopefully, his eyes wide as he craned his head to look up at Michael.

The old Irishman grinned and ruffled his hair. “Aye. If we’re in time for the next show. I t’ink it will be a lot like the circus I was telling you about.”