The White Elephant Mystery (7 page)

The horses danced, the clowns made faces that scared themselves, the calliope player played “Jingle Bells” for Cannonball while he sang it at the top of his lungs from the top of his patrol car, and when one of the clowns who had enormous feet and rode in a tiny police patrol wagon came along, Cannonball climbed down from his police car and rode two blocks beside the clown, with everyone screaming with laughter as the clown beat Cannonball over the head with a paper nightstick.

When the last gilded wagon had rumbled by, Tommy turned to Djuna and said in a whisper, “And the billboards say that the parade is only a small sample of everything that is in the circus! Jeepers, I don’t know whether I’m going to live through this day or not!”

“Okay, kids,” Socker said as the calliope’s blatant music died away in the distance. “Now we’re going back to the chow tent and get us some food.”

“In the circus chow tent, Socker?” Djuna asked.

“In the circus chow tent,” Socker repeated, solemnly. “We’ll try to get a seat beside Bong-Bong, the Mule-faced Boy, who eats nothing but pink lizards covered with catsup.”

“Does he—honest, Socker?” Tommy asked in a horrified voice.

“Well,” said Socker, “I’ve heard it whispered around, but let’s not count on it.
We
don’t have to eat lizards because he does.”

“Golly, I hope not,” Djuna said, and he and Tommy grinned at each other as they climbed down from the top of the patrol car and into the back seat.

After they had parked Cannonball’s white car near the restaurant or “chow” tent, they went inside and were greeted with a shout from Spitfire Peters, who indicated some seats at the long table where he was eating.

With him was Trixie Cella, Ned Barrow, and a midget clown who had an enormous red nose in the middle of his white make-up and wore a tiny policeman’s uniform, with a large tin star pinned on the blouse. He wore a policeman’s cap with the peak in the back, and when they joined him Spitfire introduced him to Tommy and Djuna as “Merry” Andrews. He was the same clown Cannonball had ridden with, in the parade.

Trixie Cella had taken off her aerialist’s costume and was dressed in a filmy lavender dress that made her look even prettier than she had looked in the big top that morning.

“Jeepers, she’s awful pretty, isn’t she?” Djuna whispered to Socker.

“She is,” said Socker. “But you better not let Spitfire see you making eyes at her, because she’s his wife!”

“She
is?
” Djuna said. “Honest?”

“Swallow my gum and hope to die!” said Socker. “And,” he added, “here comes Joy Maybeck. She’s not hard to look at, either.”

“Who’s she?” Djuna whispered.

“She rides the rosinbacks,” Socker said. “She’s the greatest of them all.”

Djuna wanted to ask what a rosinback might be, but he didn’t have time before the wisp of a girl Socker had called Joy Maybeck was being introduced to him and sat down at the table right beside him. She had beautiful platinum hair that she wore in a pageboy bob, large violet eyes and white teeth that flashed every time she smiled, which was a great deal of the time.

After Djuna, and Tommy, too, had eaten a large slice of roast, some very fresh green peas, mashed potatoes with gravy, two glasses of milk, and an enormous slice of apple pie with cheese, they both felt a great deal better, and Djuna got up the courage to talk to Joy Maybeck when she smiled at him.

“What,” he asked her, “is a rosinback?”

“It’s what I ride on,” she said with another smile.

“Sort of like an automobile?” Djuna asked, and he couldn’t keep his bewilderment out of his voice.

“No,” she said and she laughed very merrily. “It’s a horse,” she whispered so no one else would hear her and laugh at Djuna, too. “Have you ever seen a circus?” she added.

“W-e-e-ll, no,” Djuna said. He wanted to say yes, because he didn’t want her to think he was too much of a kid, but he was honest and told her he had never seen one before.

“I’m what they call an equestrienne,” she told him. “In other words, a bareback rider.”

“O-h-h!” Djuna said. “When it’s galloping around the ring?”

“That’s right,” she told him. “I turn somersaults while I’m riding, too,” she added.

“Jeepers!” Djuna said and he gazed at her with new respect. “Do—do they call the horses rosinbacks?”

“That’s right, too,” Joy said. “If you’d ever seen a circus you would have noticed that the bareback riders always ride on white or dapple-gray horses. That’s so the rosin they sprinkle on the horses’ backs, so we won’t lose our footing, won’t show. Powdered rosin is white, you see.”

“I see,” Djuna said. “Are you going to ride this afternoon?”

“Yes,” she said. “Are you going to the show?”

“Golly, I should say I am!” said Djuna with no little conviction.

“Well, I’ll do a special trick I’ve been practicing, just for you,” she told him and she gave him her nicest smile.

“Golly me,” Djuna said stoutly. “I’d like to see
anyone
keep me away!”

Socker, who had been listening to snatches of their conversation, leaned forward now and said, “Joy has more circus genius in her little finger than most of the performers have in a lifetime, Djuna.”

“Why, Socker, how you talk!” Joy said and she blushed very prettily.

“There are a lot of other nice things I’d like to tell him,” Socker said quite seriously, “but perhaps I’d better let it ride.”

“Yes, let it ride until after I get through riding,” Joy said with a twinkle in her eyes. “You know, Socker, you’d make a great press agent.”

“For
you
I would,” Socker said in such a way that even Djuna could tell that Socker meant just what he said.

But Djuna forgot all about Socker and Joy Maybeck as he happened to glance at a table, like the one at which he was sitting, about thirty feet away.

He stared and his eyes almost crossed because they opened so wide. Tommy, who happened to glance at Djuna at that moment, followed his gaze and his eyes popped open, too, as wide as saucers.

They saw what the billboards had called “the beautiful Circassian snake charmer” sitting at the head of the table—and around her neck was wound a baby python. At first they thought it wasn’t real. But when it moved its head and slid out its red needlelike tongue they knew it was real. The beautiful Circassian snake charmer said something to the snake and it put its head down again. She went on eating her dinner.

When they could take their eyes off the beautiful snake charmer and her snake, and her gold earrings, they saw that beside her sat a woman who was so fat that she took up three chairs; beside the fat woman was a man who was so thin that he didn’t even cover one chair.

Beside the thin man were eight or ten men and women that the posters had called “Ubangis.” They had black skins. Wooden disks had been inserted into their lips in childhood; and as the lips grew over them, new disks—gradually increasing in diameter until the lips were now nearly eight inches wide. This made them look like ducks with huge bills. Their lips didn’t seem to affect their appetites, as they were eating with great gusto and paying no attention to the other side-show people around them.

Next to the Ubangis was a bearded woman—the same one they had seen with the giant on the circus grounds. He was sitting beside her now, towering far above her.

There were dog-faced boys, three-legged men, four-legged women, “missing links,” Siamese twins, India-rubber men, a sword-swallower who pretended to be swallowing his fork all the time, and a giraffe-necked woman, to say nothing of a man who was tattooed from head to foot.

“Are—are they,” Djuna whispered to Spitfire who was sitting next to him, “what the billboards call the MASTERPIECES OF ALL CREATION’S WILDEST WHIMS?”

“Them’s they!” Spitfire said with a laugh. “They don’t seem to have affected your appetite.”

“Jeepers, they didn’t,” Djuna said. “Do—do they act like regular people?”

“Oh, sure,” said Spitfire. “After the performance this afternoon I’ll take you round and introduce you to some of them. But don’t let them hear you call them ‘freaks.’ They have a great deal of pride and like to be called ‘artists.’”

“Golly, I wouldn’t call ’em anything,” said Djuna. “I’d be afraid to.”

“You don’t have to be afraid of them,” Spitfire said. “They’re all harmless.”

From outside the chow tent Djuna heard a man beginning to chant, and, as he began, all of the side-show people got up from the table and disappeared as though by magic.

Djuna listened and heard a barker shouting:

“Now-w-w-w-w-w, Ladies and Gentlemen-n-n-n, there are yet fortay-y-y-five minutes before the big show begins. Fortay-y-y-five minutes. A long time to wait, Ladies-s-s-s and Gentlemen. So we have arranged for your benefit a special exhibition in the Grand Annex and a Museum of Living Curiosities to delight the eye, please the brain and sharpen the intellect. If you will just step a bit closer-r-r-r-r—r!

“I have brought out before you, Ladies-s-s-s and Gentlemen, a few of the strange and curious-s-s-s people who go to make up this museum of wonders. Starting at the right: Bong-Bong, the Mule-Faced Boy …”

The voice became indistinct because of the clatter of dishes in the chow tent, and Djuna and Tommy began to fidget because they wanted to get outside and see everything that was going on, but Socker seemed quite content to sit there and talk to Joy Maybeck as long as he could.

Finally Spitfire and Trixie Cella, his wife, and Joy got up, saying they had to get into their costumes. “We’ll see you after the show,” Spitfire said to Socker.

“I’m going to see the show again this afternoon,” Socker said. “I want to see you leap, and I want to see that special act Joy is going to put on for Djuna.”

“We can stand it if you can, big boy,” Spitfire laughed— and he flipped a hand in farewell.

“There is,” Socker said to Djuna after they had gone, “something else I want to see, too.”

Djuna looked at him with questioning eyes—but Socker only winked at him and said, “Come on. Let’s grab off a box seat right under Spitfire’s rig.”

“Say, Socker,” Djuna said, “is that midget clown’s real name Merry Andrews?”

“No,” Socker said. “His real name is Joe Casey. They call all clowns merry-andrews. I don’t know just where it came from. He’s a nice fellow. He and Spitfire and Trixie and Joy Maybeck are great pals. As a matter of fact, from what I’ve learned, they were all great favorites of old man Grant before he died. Spitfire was an assistant manager of the whole circus, and Merry Andrews had something to do with the management of the side show.”

“And did Sonny Grant take the jobs away from them when he took over the circus?” Djuna asked.

“From what I’ve heard,” Socker said. “None of them get on too well with Sonny.”

“Oh, I see,” Djuna said, but he didn’t “see” at all.

“I’m going to keep an eye open out here while you take Djuna and Tommy inside,” Cannonball said to Socker.

“Okay, we’ll see you after the show,” said Socker. “What about taking a peek at the menagerie as we go in?” he added.

“Oh sure,” Tommy said eagerly. “We only saw the elephants this morning.”

The first animal they came to inside the menagerie tent was a yak, from Tibet. It had a beard that reached from its chin to its feet, and when Socker saw it he began to laugh and said: “Look at its keeper. He has a beard, too. Spitfire told me about this yak. When they first got it it wouldn’t eat or anything. Wouldn’t pay attention to anyone until one day the bearded lady came and fed it some peanuts. It followed her from one side of its cage to the other and ate all the peanuts she would give him. Merry Andrews saw the bearded lady feeding the yak and suggested to the superintendent of the menagerie that he get a bearded man for an attendant for the yak. He did; and the yak has been happy ever since.”

“Is that true?” Tommy asked with a wide grin.

“Swallow my gum and hope to die!” said Socker.

In the next cage was an enormous chimpanzee who stood more than seven feet tall, with his hands over his head. He was so strong that they had a three-ton lunge chain constantly around his neck to check him if he ever became savage. Actually, he was even-tempered and playful. But Socker had learned some of his tricks from his trainer—and when they stopped in front of him, the big chimpanzee was gazing contentedly out at the crowds until Socker said, “All right, Angel! Big mouth!”

The big chimpanzee leaped to his hind legs and made a horrible face, showing his yellow fangs. His eyes became mere slits, and from his heavily muscled throat came a deep, menacing growl.

“Angel! Go mad!” Socker cried.

Both Djuna and Tommy jumped backward as Angel started to leap about his cage, screaming and shrilling, pounding the floor and the roof, rocking the large, steel-barred structure, biting and tearing at anything in his way. He was a perfect specimen of a mad animal.

“Okay, Angel!” Socker shouted.

The chimpanzee sat down suddenly, and this time when the skin furled back from his yellow teeth it looked as though he were laughing.

“Good boy, Angel!” Socker said and the chimpanzee put a hand through the bars of his cage and shook hands with Socker.

“Chattering chimps!” Tommy said in amazement. “I thought he was going to tear everything in Riverton apart! And it was just an act? I mean, he was just pretending?”

“Sure,” Socker said. “There’s a lion down here that will do that, too. It puts on an act the same way, hissing and growling and leaping at his trainer. Then, in the side show, it plays like a kitten with the trainer and even lets him put his head in its mouth.”

“I don’t see how they ever train them to do things like that,” Tommy said. “I should think—”

“Excuse me, sir,” a man in an usher’s cap said to Socker, “but have you a big bill that you would care to exchange for smaller ones? You see—”

Socker listnd to the man for a second or two and then pretended that his attention had been diverted as he looked down at Djuna and Tommy. He half-turned his back to the man who had spoken to him and said, softly, “Cannonball will be up near the chow tent. Get him!”

Djuna didn’t ask any questions. He studied Socker’s expression for a split fraction of a second and then he whirled and started to run toward the exit with Tommy right behind him.