购买
下载掌阅APP,畅读海量书库
立即打开
畅读海量书库
扫码下载掌阅APP

扫一扫 收听英文朗读

1

With a squeal of brakes, the train shuddered backward to the edge of the tracks, dead-ending on the side of a wide meadow. Joe whooped loudly as his body was f lung into the air, only one hand anchoring him to the pole at the back of the caboose. Then the jolt of the stop slammed him back onto the porch, his shoes sliding across the f loorboards.

Milly wouldn't approve. She'd scold him for being reckless. Her forehead would get that wrinkle in the middle that had never been there before Mama died. But Milly wasn't there to see.

“Yeehaw!” Joe shouted as he leapt from the train.

They were f inally there: Joplin, Missouri, where his dad would meet them any day now.

Across the meadow, several boys his age raced toward him, waving madly. Joe raised his hat in return. Well, not his hat; it was his dad's and a bit too large for him, truth be told, but the other boys couldn't see that from this far away.

Shhhboom . Boxcar doors slid open down the line and the circus crew hopped out in a well-rehearsed dance, one of them staying behind in each car to toss down the supplies. The faded white-and-red-striped fabrics and poles for the tents came out f irst, along with the fence to keep out those seeking a free peek.

“Hiya, Joe,” Rongo called. The strongman hefted a stack of boards that weighed signif icantly more than the fake inf latable barbells he wielded onstage.

“Hi, Rongo.” Joe waved as he ducked under a roll two men were lugging toward the f ield.

“Get to your own post,” Rufus Sorghum spat at him.

Joe gave the grouchy roustabout a cheeky salute, then scampered off to where Milly was already sliding crates down a ramp. In the boxcar behind her, Catherine the Greater, the magician's assistant and wife, was carefully sorting more. There were a lot of boxes.

The meadow might have been peaceful and empty now, but before nightfall a border fence would encircle a village of tents, with the animal enclosures set up as far from the fence as possible. Medici didn't want Joplin's citizens dodging entrance fees to view the creatures.

“Oh, good, you're here,” Milly said. “Let's get these over —”

“Have you seen Barrymore?” a frantic voice called.

“Oh, no,” Milly said, exchanging an amused grimace with Joe as Catherine came to the doorway to see what the fuss was about. Puck, another one of the performers, sounded panicky.

“He must have gotten loose again,” Joe said. He sidled toward the next car. “You know, I can get under the cars and up on top, look for him in all the tight spaces he loves....”

Milly sighed. “Fine, go f ind the monkey.”

Joe was off before she'd f inished the sentence.

“Just get back here as soon as you do!” she called after her brother. Shaking her head, she continued stacking boxes of streamers and lights in a pile.

“I'm not the fortune-teller, but I predict he’ll return precisely as the f inal box is unloaded,” Catherine said, a smile playing on her lips.

“Wouldn't have it any other way,” Milly answered, with a grin of her own.

The main tent always went up f irst, followed by the surrounding exhibitions. Last were the behind-the-scenes living areas. It was strange to be back on solid ground after a week on the rumbling train, but Milly was looking forward to some quiet time. It was ten times easier to measure chemicals precisely when the f loor wasn't shaking under her.

“Thank you, Milly.” Ivan the Wonderful, the magician, patted her head as he passed her to collect a box.

By late afternoon, the camp was taking shape, and they'd started on the living quarters tucked at the back. Joe returned after a long hunt (Barrymore had hidden inside a feed bag, demolishing half the peanuts) and helped Milly spread out their tent.

“Here, let me,” Ivan said. He strode over and lifted one of the main poles easily, setting it into the small hole Joe had dug while Milly looped the fabric over the next pole. Once the f irst was secured in the ground, they lifted the second and third. Joe tacked the ends into the ground as Milly carted in their belongings from the boxcar.

“You can always stay in our tent, you know,” Catherine said, her hand resting on Milly's arm as they crossed paths by the train.

“I know,” Milly answered. Ivan and Catherine were incredibly kind and did everything they could for her and Joe. Every day they asked if the kids needed anything, such as help sewing extra cloth onto Milly's sleeves to make them longer. Sometimes they would bring little gifts, like a bag of cherries they'd bought at a train station along the way. And every night, they slept nearby. At the f irst stop after their mother died, Milly and Joe had squeezed into Ivan and Catherine's tent, but it was cramped and claustrophobic. Milly couldn't set up experiments without Ivan tripping over them, and Joe's early rising woke Catherine, who was a light sleeper.

“We're okay,” Milly said. “And we know you're right next door if we need anything. Thank you, though.”

“All right, then. Don't hesitate.” Catherine smiled and continued on her way.

When Milly reached the tents, Ivan and Joe were carrying the cots in. Ducking inside, a thrill ran through her. There'd be three this time instead of two — f inally, their family would be reunited. Together, they brought in the mattresses and laid them out so that nobody would have to climb over anybody else to get outside.

The delicious smell of stew f illed the air. Joe's stomach gurgled loudly.

“Ha!” Ivan laughed. “All right, niños , I think that's a good stopping point.”

Summoned by the aromas of beef and carrots, the troupe f iltered into the meal circle. This was the true heart of the circus. Usually Medici would be walking among them, checking on everyone, but Milly didn't see him anywhere. Maybe he was visiting the animals instead. He'd been particularly obsessed with their newest elephant lately. Milly and Joe grabbed bowls and stood in line with Ivan behind Miss Atlantis, the resident mermaid.

“Good clear night, isn't it?” Ivan asked, gazing skyward.

“A bit muggy for me.” Miss Atlantis fanned herself.

“Did you get everything unloaded all right? Need a hand?” Ivan offered.

“Oh, I'm all set, thank you.”

Milly wasn't surprised — Miss Atlantis almost never accepted help, claiming she didn't want to be a bother.

The mermaid twisted her torso, stretching her back muscles. “I'm looking forward to sleeping on steady ground, though. I need to get my sea legs!”

After they dished up, Milly and Joe followed Ivan to where Catherine had saved them all spots, staking out two coveted stools for her and her husband. Sitting cross-legged on a mat next to her was Pramesh, the snake charmer, and his nephew, Arav. Milly was disappointed to see they'd left their snakes in their quarters tonight. She liked studying them... as long as they were far from her mice, that is. Pramesh nodded in greeting, his face wrinkling with a smile. Arav, still shy and reserved even after years with the circus, ducked his head. The kids sat on the ground beside Pramesh, slurping up the delicious stew.

“Puck is a genius. He really is,” Joe declared.

“I think you'd be happy with anyone's cooking,” Milly teased, “as long as you didn't have to lift a ladle.”

“Not true. The week that Rongo was in charge was... um...”

“Yes?” a voice growled from behind them.

Milly and Joe turned to see the strongman looming over them. His dark skin contrasted with his bright yellow shirt, and the sparkle in his eyes glinted in the moonlight.

“Go on, Joe. My week was...?”

“Unconventional?” Joe said. “But maybe it was just too heavy on the pepper for me.”

Rongo chuckled and winked at the kids. “I may or may not have done that on purpose.” Milly suddenly remembered Medici's having gotten terrible indigestion that week. “I wasn't hired on as a cook. I'm just as glad as you that Puck handles it all now. Speaking of, I'm going to grab a second helping.”

*  *  *

After dinner, they all gathered around a warm f ire. Milly f iddled with the key on her necklace as she and Joe leaned against Catherine's and Ivan's legs. Under the twinkling stars, the campf ire stories began. This was Milly's favorite part of the day. The jobs and chores were done, and everyone relaxed and laughed — even if the nights had become more subdued and the stories more wistful than celebratory. It was still nice to look up at the sky and listen to the rumble of voices, the old tales and worn-out jokes. Puck picked up his concertina and pressed it in and out slowly, the music a sweet underlay to it all. The crowd called for Miss Atlantis to sing, and f inally, after much cajoling, she chimed in with her rich, beautiful voice. Milly swayed appreciatively.

“Well, I must go check on Tanak,” Pramesh said once the song was f inished, rising in one f luid motion.

Pramesh doted on his python, catching rats for it at every stop. At least he made sure it was always either draped around his shoulders or securely contained. Milly would be crushed if it somehow got to her mice.

“He's asleep,” Pramesh whispered, gesturing toward Joe.

Ivan craned his head to see. “Well, it's been a long day, and you know how he likes to get up early.”

Milly groaned. “Yes, we do. Ivan, do you mind?”

Without a word, he slipped his arms around Joe and lifted him up. Milly went around the circle, saying her good nights before following him back to her tent.

Buenas noches , little ones,” Ivan said as he tucked Joe's blanket around him. “Sleep well.” He dropped a kiss on Milly's forehead before ducking out into the night.

*  *  *

“Holt will be here soon,” Catherine said as Ivan rejoined her at the f ire.

Leaning his shoulder against hers, Ivan nodded. “Let's hope the war hasn't broken his spirit. Those kids need him whole.” They'd both seen plenty of soldiers with haunted eyes attend their shows. Not even the clown act could break through to them.

“Yes, let us hope.”

The f ire crackled and bowls clanged as the crew set them in the washbasin. Miss Atlantis nodded good night to everyone as they left, her arms submerged in soapy water. Puck did all the cooking, so she had volunteered for washup. They'd need to use the dishes again in the morning for breakfast.

A circus life was cyclical, that was for sure. VqZGJm938j7o5KUilBzAuQVjurt4/hSH3ECltG1F8/wfPkRN/UNTNn0et+R9iWn3

点击中间区域
呼出菜单
上一章
目录
下一章
×