The Fiery Ring (21 page)

The most difficult part was the spin. This simply meant sitting in the curl of Ruth’s trunk and hanging on to the front of her headdress while Ruth turned rapidly in a circle. All she had to do was hang on with one hand and throw her arm backward, looking as graceful as possible. It was a great deal of fun, and she found she enjoyed the applause, even though she knew there was no great talent involved.

She stopped one day beside Dan, whose other job besides the elephant was being the human cannonball. It was an act that had frightened Joy when she had first seen it performed. Dan had to slide into the bore of a cannon mounted on a truck. A net was stretched out more than a hundred feet away, and with a tremendous explosion, Dan was thrown through the air, managing to turn in the air and land in the net. As the ringmaster, Colonel House made it sound terribly dangerous and emphasized the number of men who had broken their necks trying this very difficult stunt.

Now as she stood beside Dan, she asked him, “How dangerous is it really, Dan, this human cannonball stunt?”

“Safest trick in the circus.”

“That’s not what the colonel says,” Joy protested. “He says a lot of men have broken their necks trying it.”

“Oh, a few have been hurt, but it’s their own fault. There’s really nothing to it.”

“But to be shot out of a cannon and all that noise . . .”

“Aw, the noise is nothing.” Dan grinned. “It’s just added to make the act more spectacular. Down at the base of the cannon is a plunger. It’s pulled back by hydraulic pressure, and when I slide down I put my feet against it and block up. When it’s released, the charge goes off, but it has nothing to do with pushing me out of the cannon. The plunger shoots me out the end, then I turn one graceful turn and land in the net. That’s all there is to it.”

“I don’t believe it’s that easy.”

“Well, I hope the customers feel the same way. If they ever found out how easy it was, they’d stop watching, and I’d be out of one of my jobs.”

****

Joy loved being in Pensacola, where she could savor the ocean breezes and lush tropical climate. One morning after breakfast Chase came by and said, “Let’s go down to the beach. Have you ever been on the Gulf?”

“I was close to it in Galveston, but I didn’t actually see it.”

“It’s beautiful here. Nothing like it. Bring your suit if you want to go swimming.”

“I haven’t got one, but I’d like to see the beach and maybe find some shells.”

“Okay. Doak is going into town to run errands. He can drop us off.”

The two of them made arrangements with Doak, and Joy said, “After we go to the beach, I need to go to the post office. Maybe I’ll have a letter from Travis.”

“Sure. Nothing easier than that.”

Doak let them out at the Pensacola beach, and after he drove away, the two took off their shoes and started walking along the white sand. “It’s so beautiful. And the water’s so green.”

“Look at that!” Chase said excitedly. He turned her around and pointed. “Look right there.”

“Oh, I see! What are they?”

“Dolphins. A pretty sight, aren’t they?”

Joy watched as the sleek creatures rose out of the sea, then arched themselves in the air and slipped back under the waves. There were four of them, one after the other, and Joy was thrilled at the sight. “They’re so beautiful,” she said.

“Nothing much prettier than that.”

They watched until the dolphins disappeared in the distance, and then Joy and Chase continued their walk. The sun was high and the sand was already too hot on their bare feet,
so they waded in the water, searching for shells. Once Chase caught her arm and warned, “Watch out. Don’t step on that.”

“What is it?”

“Jellyfish. They sting like crazy when you get involved with them. I was swimming one time out in the Gulf, and I got in a big bunch of them. I thought I was gonna die.”

It was a clear day with the sun gleaming on the crystalline sand and farther out from shore the water glistening green and blue. Joy felt exhilarated, and when it was time to turn back, she sighed, “I hate to leave.”

“Maybe we could become beach bums. Doesn’t pay very well, though.”

“I suppose not.”

The two went back to the street and waited until Doak drove up; then they got in the truck. “Run by the post office, will you, Doak? Joy needs to check to see if there’s a letter for her.”

“Sure enough, Chase.”

Doak found the post office with little trouble, and Joy said, “You two can just wait here. I’ll go in.”

Slipping out of the truck, she ran into the post office. When she got to the window, she asked the clerk, “Is there anything in general delivery for Joy Winslow?”

“Let me see. I’ll check.” The man disappeared for a moment, and Joy’s heart leaped when he returned with an envelope in his hand. “One letter for Joy Winslow.”

“Oh, thank you!” Joy took the letter and stepped away from the window to read it. She trembled with excitement and ripped it open. Her brother’s writing was as bad as usual, and it seemed he had written on a piece of brown paper sack. Her eyes scanned the lines:

Dear Joy,

I have bad news. I’m sending this from a prison close to Veracruz on the Gulf of Mexico. The crew went ashore and there
was a fight. I wasn’t part of it, but one of the Mexicans got badly hurt. He was a prominent man, and we had no chance at all. Three of us were sentenced to a year in prison. You can’t do anything. I’ll find you when my term is up. I love you, Joy. This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. The prison’s bad. Write to me, and let me know what’s happening. I’ve been so worried about you.

Love, Travis

****

“It’s takin’ her a long time,” Chase said, a puzzled look on his face. “I’ll go check and see what’s happenin’.” Getting out of the truck, he ran up the steps to the post office and passed through the doors of the building. He glanced to his left and saw Joy standing at a tall desk. Her head was bent over, and he saw that her shoulders were shaking. He immediately went to her side. “What is it, Joy? What’s happened?”

“It’s . . . a letter from my brother.”

Chase took the letter and read it. He put his arm around her and said, “It’s a tough break.”

Without meaning to, Joy leaned against his chest. Sobs racked her body, and she clung to him. He could only hold her and pat her shoulders, knowing there was nothing he could say to make her feel better. Finally her sobs subsided, and he fished a handkerchief from his pocket. “Take this,” he said gently. He watched as she cleaned her face, and then he said, “This is bad news, but we’ll make it. We’ll make it, Joy. It’ll be okay.”

When Joy looked up to him from the circle of his arms, her eyes held a tragedy that went right to Chase’s heart. “We’ll make it,” he said softly. “You and me, we’ll wait. We’ll do what we can.”

“Will you do . . . will you do one thing for me, Chase?”

“Anything.”

“Please . . . would you not drink anymore?”

The question stunned him. Chase said nothing for a minute, seeing himself at a crossroads in his mind. He was facing two diverging roads—one, the path of drinking in order to forget, the other, Joy’s way. She did not understand what she was asking of him, he thought. The liquor had gotten ahold of him now and seemed like the easy way to avoid his pain. But looking down at her tearstained face, her lips trembling, he knew he had no choice. Finding the courage to take the more difficult road, he said to her, “Yes, I’ll do that.”

Joy laid her cheek against his chest and relaxed in the comfort of his arms. “Thank you, Chase,” she whispered.

Chase held her for a long moment, then said, “Come on, we’ve got a ways to go, Joy—but we’ll make it.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Stella

Joy came out of a deep sleep abruptly, and when she opened her eyes, a beam of sunlight slanting down from the window blinded her for a moment. Shutting her eyes quickly, she rolled over and pushed her face into the pillow, burrowing down under the blankets. She lay there for a moment savoring the warmth, for the March mornings in Asheville, North Carolina, were still cool and the trailer she occupied with Ella Devoe was not an efficient unit to heat. She had been glad when Ella invited her to share her trailer last summer. Living with Pete and Annie Delaney had been inconvenient. Not that it bothered Joy, but she just felt like she was in the way. Ella had said, “Come on and bunk with me, Joy. You can come and go as you please, and we’ll see how we get along.”

The trailer had only one bedroom, which Ella occupied, but the kitchenette, which consisted of two bench seats and a table, folded down cleverly to convert into a bed. It was not overly soft, but it was better than most had in the circus. She had learned that Ella went to bed fairly early, so Joy did not have to disturb her except on rare occasions.

The busy hum of the circus waking up captured Joy’s attention. Muted by the walls of the trailer, voices seemed thin and far away, but the muffled roar of a lion added an exotic flavor to the sounds.

She threw the cover back, sat straight up, and opened her eyes wide as the thought seized her,
I’m eighteen years old today!

She had not given much thought to her birthday, for her life was so busy she’d had little time to think about it. No one except Chase knew it was her birthday, so she was not expecting anything in particular—maybe just a good wish from him.

Leaning over, she picked up the tablet and the pen that lay on the floor beside her, flipped the tablet open, and began to write. The pale yellow sunlight illuminated the page as she wrote the date,
March 15, 1928,
hesitated, then started:

I’m eighteen years old today, but I don’t feel any different than I did yesterday. I suppose birthdays are like that for adults—but they were very special when I was young. I remember Travis always put me under the bed, and I would kick and scream and try to keep him from doing it, and then we would both wind up laughing. And then on my last birthday at home I remember that Daddy—

She broke off, for the painful memories of her sixteenth birthday ran through her like a razor. For a long time she’d had nightmares about her family going off in the truck and never coming back. Thankfully, those nightmares had finally stopped, and she could finally enjoy some of the happier memories. One of the silly little memories that came back to her now was the particular way her father used to peel an apple with his sharp pocketknife. He always peeled it in one single spiral, which had delighted Joy. She could see him now with his lips turned upward in a grin and a merry light in his eyes, winking at her as he handed her the peel and saying,
“Here, you eat this, and I’ll eat the rest.”

She was able to smile now at such memories, remembering the good times. She began a new sentence:

I remember I got this pen a year ago today from Chase at Sister Hannah’s, and I’ve used the comb and hairbrush she gave me every single day. That was a good day. I don’t suppose I’ll get any presents today, but I’m not complaining.

No matter how hard I try, I can’t feel anything but hate for Albert Tatum and his rotten kids! I know it’s wrong—but I just can’t help it! In a way Albert is responsible for Travis being in jail. If he hadn’t been such a rotten man, we’d still be living at his place. I don’t believe much in prayer, but if I did, I’d pray for him to die!

She stared at the lines, then shook her head.
Why can’t I forget all about him?
She glanced at the clock and decided to go help Annie, although she had been released from morning duties to do other things. She replaced the pen and tablet in the box that she kept in one of the trailer’s small overhead compartments. She slipped out of her pajamas and jumped into the shower as quickly as she could, savoring the hot water. Coming out shivering, she dried off with a large, fluffy pink towel and dressed with an efficiency of motion. She transformed the bed back into a dining table and bench seats, and since she would be eating breakfast later with Annie, she didn’t make any now.

By the time she reached the cook tent, Annie already had most of the work done, but she smiled at Joy. “I’m surprised you’re here today. I thought I gave you the day off. I’m almost done now.”

“I decided to come help after all. I can set the tables, and then I’ll clean up.”

As Joy moved back and forth between the kitchen and the tables, she had a smile for those who greeted her. It occurred
to her then that, in less than a year with the circus, she had immersed herself in the lives of the people there. Her eyes swept over them, picking out the Flying Martinos—Juan and Maria with their children, Mateo and Lucia. They chattered together in Spanish as Joy refilled their coffee cups.

The Fontaines sat at the next table, and their son, Bert, who was twenty, reached out and grabbed Joy by the arm as she passed by. He was a small, well-built young man with a pair of jaunty blue eyes. “How about you and me go out and do the Charleston somewhere, doll?”

“No, you’ve got too many girlfriends, Bert. They’d probably beat me up.”

“Aw, I’d dump them all in a second for you, Joy.”