The Websters threw a party after the show, with plenty of cider. We were invited to join, and even Mr. Bopp agreed, mostly due to the cider.
“I should see if Tauseret is well,” I said.
“She’s sleeping in the water trough,” said Bertha.
“Let her sleep,” said Miss Lightfoot. “She is quite unused to the exercise she’s had today.”
“Carry me,” insisted Minnie. “I’ll cry if you don’t.”
I gave in and went with them to the party. Mink’s men wouldn’t know Tauseret was connected with us, and I felt safer among a crowd.
There were paper lanterns on the porch and streamers hung from the trees. Miss Lightfoot expressed delight. “Why, I haven’t attended a garden party in years,” she exclaimed as she crossed the lawn on Mr. Ginger’s arm.
“Stay in the light and away from the bushes,” I told the children. I ordered Apollo to keep a close eye on them. The Webster offspring took it upon themselves to be possessive and solicitous, since our children were their claim to local fame, and soon a healthy game of fox and chickens ensued, with all participating amicably.
Miss Lightfoot and Mr. Ginger chatted with curious guests, while Mrs. Webster congratulated me on a fine show and plied me with homemade muffins.
Maybe Apollo considered himself too old for the games, for later I saw him at the side of Mr. Bopp, who sat enthroned on a lawn chair. This couldn’t be a combination ripe for decorum, but the farmhands who gathered around them were laughing heartily. I wouldn’t doubt Apollo was getting an education.
Two girls paid much attention to me, and their eyes continually darted to the knives I wore. I thought this might put their escorts’ noses out of joint, except they were too interested in the whereabouts of my pretty assistant. She slept, I told them, and explained that she had felt peaked. The young men were disappointed. I understood. I would much rather be in her company. I resolved to leave the party early, but every time I tried, I was trapped in another conversation.
Eventually the guests were called away by thoughts of early morning chores. Our troupe bade our farewells alongside the Websters, and Miss Lightfoot glowed with the thrill of inclusion. Mr. Ginger encircled her arm with his, and I could tell that constituted his thrill. I wished to encircle Tauseret. I had neglected her indeed.
As soon as we reached the barn, the children scattered to the loft. “Toss down those curtain poles before you go to sleep,” I called, and they obliged me.
Cider and good company had comforted my fears. Mink wasn’t going to show. He was a coward. He’d cut his losses and run.
Mr. Ginger kissed Miss Lightfoot good night on the back of her hand. Hurry to sleep, I urged silently. I dared not rush to the water trough, for I didn’t want to remind Miss Lightfoot of her self-appointed duties as a chaperone. I didn’t want a chaperone, not one bit. Slowly I pulled the curtains from the poles and carefully folded them. I took as much time as I could.
At last we were alone.
Moonlight fell from the louvered air vent over the great barn doors. I walked along a silver path to the trough. My heart beat in my throat, and a sweet ache awoke in me—only to turn into bitter disappointment.
I found her stiff and still, as if she had never become a beautiful girl, as if that had all been a dream, like the other dreams I’d had since I’d been given the ring. I laid my hand on her brow, but not even an eyelash flickered. I stroked her cheek, her arms, her legs, willing the flesh to warm; yet nothing happened. What if she never woke up again? The thought was unbearable. Panic battered my heart with dark wings. I clutched her hand and bowed my head over her and prayed she would awake.
“How lovely to find you alone,” said an icy, hushed voice.
28
MY HEAD WHIPPED UP SO HARD my neck cracked.
A slim figure with lank hair stood outlined in the moonlight.
I rose to my feet in terror. “What do you want here, Ceecee?”
“Everything.” Ceecee giggled. Silver light shimmered on his open razor. “Everything but you, that is. You, my dear, must go.” His eyes glowed black and feverish in his pale face.
The trough lay between us, but that offered no protection. After praying so hard for Tauseret to move, I now prayed she wouldn’t, so she’d be safe. I glanced around. Could I reach the ladder to the loft? How fast was Ceecee? Would it help if I yelled, or would that simply put the others in danger?
“You’re a troublemaker, Dandy,” Ceecee whispered as he drew closer, razor poised in spider fingers. “But I think they’ll fall in line once they see you dead.”
“I didn’t think you’d find us so fast,” I said, stepping carefully backward.
“Don’t let your brats drop toys on the right road when you’ve made tracks on the wrong one,” he answered, pushing his lank hair back with his free hand.
Minnie’s doll. That’s where it went.
Sweat tickled my neck. I wanted to scratch, but would Ceecee think I was reaching for one of the knives I still wore?
My heart beat faster and my mouth dried. Maybe I should reach for a knife. They were sharp enough—but was I quick enough, and did I dare use my throwing knives on a person? I shuddered at the thought of my knives sinking into flesh.
“Where’s Mink?” I asked, playing for time. My right fingers twitched slightly as I calculated the placement of the nearest knife.
Ceecee giggled again. “Toasting my success in an Osceola tavern. Waiting for my return with the prodigal prodigies.”
“I won’t let you take them.” Could I really stop this crazy man? I narrowed my eyes so he wouldn’t see the fear in them.
“Who made you protector of the freaks?” Spit flew from Ceecee’s mouth. “Do you feel handsome surrounded by nature’s rejects?”
I flamed with righteous indignation at his words. My friendship wasn’t shallow.
He took another step forward, and I wondered if I could pull and throw a knife before he reached me. All I had to do was wound him enough to shock him, and then perhaps I could knock him out and tie him up.
What if the knife stuck in its sheath? I took another step back. What if he got to me before I could throw? Would I have to fight him, knife in hand? How much damage would he do to me with that razor? Lightning fear fizzed through me.
His eyes narrowed and a thin, cruel smile stretched his lips. “I’m going to make a mess of your face,” he said, as if answering my thoughts. “You won’t reach your grave pretty.”
“Don’t touch him!” Tauseret reared up between us, sunkencheeked and cadaver-like.
Ceecee cringed from the corpse that hissed at him, and horror twisted his face as her dry skin took on flesh. Then he snarled and lunged at her.
My heart lurched and my hands flew to my bandolier. Tauseret ducked. My first knife sliced the dark. I don’t know where it went. My second, a silver streak, sank into the wall of a stall. I yanked more knives in a panic as he came at me, waving his razor and grinning—casual and sure. One knife tore his sleeve and spun to the ground. Another sliced into the hay behind him. I was going to die. I grabbed for more blades. Stop being a fool, I chided myself. You have the skill. Concentrate. I had to make the next knife count, or he would kill me.
The knife left my fingers.
Ceecee dropped his razor and clutched at his throat. Blood spurted between his fingers, and his eyes bulged as red foam escaped his lips. He went down, gurgling and twitching as his heels beat a tattoo on the ground, a blade stuck in his neck. It had sliced the artery.
My gorge rose. I’d only wanted to wound him and slow him up.
He gave one last convulsion and lay motionless, his mouth agape. Cold struck me to my core, but I couldn’t look away. I opened and closed my mouth as if I, too, were gasping my last.
Tauseret climbed from the trough, clothed in beauty once more. Her white chemise draped her like the garb of a Fury. She put her cold hands on my cheeks and forced me to look at her. Her eyes were wise with the ways of death and bet
rayal. “We must leave here,” she said calmly. “The bone man has other minions.”
I clutched her to me and choked back a sob. She was right. We should take the chance and flee before Mink realized his plan had gone awry. “You saved me,” I whispered harshly into her neck.
“You saved yourself,” she answered gently. “You took the chance I offered you. Go. Wake the others. I will deal with this.”
Tauseret pulled the knife from Ceecee’s neck. She gave it a vicious twist as she did. “To be sure,” she said, and wiped the knife on a handful of hay.
I turned and left hastily before I vomited.
“Apollo, rouse the children,” I yelled up the ladder to the loft. “Ceecee’s been here, we’ve got to leave!” I ran to shake the adults awake, thankful to leave the corpse behind me.
The children scrambled down the ladder, crying questions all at once.
“I’ve killed him. I’ve killed Ceecee,” I blurted out to Mr. Ginger as he threw his cover off. I heard Miss Lightfoot’s scream from the other stall. My words had reached her. Mr. Bopp cursed. They all followed me to the trough, where Tauseret handed me the knives she had retrieved and cleaned. I took them numbly and resheathed them.
The children gathered around the body, whispering with excitement.
“You did that?” Apollo asked, eyes wide.
I was too distraught to answer.
“He did indeed,” said Tauseret.
“Dead suits him real good,” Moses said, and kicked the corpse for good measure.
Willie raised his eyes to the roof—whether he prayed or thanked, I couldn’t tell.
I could hardly bear to look at Ceecee myself. I still shook from my abominable act.
Tauseret moved close to me. “You acted with the hand of Ma’at,” she whispered. “Justice makes you tremble with the awe of her presence.” How good of her to try to comfort me.
Minnie wiped at her nose with her fist and bent over Ceecee’s face. “No more buzzing,” she said. “All empty.”
Bertha put a crooked arm around Minnie. “Good and empty,” she said.
I was appalled at how calm and satisfied they were, but I blamed life. No amount of love and care could return their innocence. “We have to get out of here,” I said. I looked in desperation at Mr. Ginger.
“Pay mind to Abel, children,” said Mr. Ginger. He glanced at Ceecee and crossed himself. “Bring the horses in, Moses. We have to hitch them up.” He shooed Moses off. “Children, gather our belongings.”
“You did Bess proud,” said Mr. Bopp, rising up by my knee. “No one will blame you, lad. I only wish it was me what did the world the favor.”
I didn’t answer but prepared to take to the road.
“We can’t leave Ceecee here,” I said to Mr. Ginger as we finally guided the horses and wagon outside. “We can’t do such a disservice to our host, and we don’t want the sheriff after us. We have to take the body with us.”
“I’m not having a dead man sit next to me, especially that one,” said Miss Lightfoot in alarm.
“Hang him under the wagon,” said Mr. Bopp. “There’s hooks down there for carrying goods.”
“Now they can carry bads,” said Apollo, looking pleased with himself.
The flesh of my back rippled with revulsion as I dragged Ceecee’s corpse under the wagon. The touch of his skin was like the cold belly of a snake, and when his hair flopped across my hand, I thought of spiders and snatched my fingers away. Apollo crawled under after me. The body flopped impossibly as we tried to tie it up with rope so it wouldn’t drag. I didn’t like wrestling with a dead man.
Finally we had the body secured, and we crawled back out.
“What will we do with him?” asked Willie, his brow furrowed.
“We’ll bury him later,” I said. “Somewhere else.”
“Soon, I hope,” said Apollo as he brushed himself down, “else we’ll start a fly circus.”
Tauseret sat beside me on the driver’s bench. I thanked the Lord for the moon and clicked the horses into motion.
We took the road toward Des Moines. With luck we would find a route that bypassed Osceola and Dr. Mink.
“Abel! Abel!” Miss Lightfoot knocked on the window slats behind me. “Minnie said a big man is coming. Do you think it signifies?”
“Is she upset?” I asked, exchanging glances with Tauseret.
“No. She seems quite cheerful,” said Miss Lightfoot.
“Then, do not fear,” answered Tauseret.
We rumbled across a wooden bridge over a small stream. We weren’t too far down the road when another rumble sounded. I clicked the horses up a pace, and my sweaty hands clutched the reins tighter. “Can you see out the back?” I demanded over my shoulder. “I think someone’s following.”
Muffled bumps and complaints greeted my ears.
“It looks like a huge suet pudding driving a cart,” called Bertha.
“Heavens! That’s Earle,” said Mr. Ginger. “And he’s driving like the devil.”
“Let’s hope the devil isn’t with him,” I answered, for if Earle followed, was Mink not far behind?
I slapped the horses’ rumps with the reins but to no avail; the horses were challenged past endurance, and as we slowed, the torrent of cries from inside told me that Earle gained.
Tauseret leaned out preposterously far, with a hand through the boards of the seat to steady her. “He’s almost on us,” she cried.
“Sit down,” I ordered, grabbing at her futilely and almost losing the horses.
“He’s pointing and gesturing our way something fierce,” Moses said through the tiny window behind my head.
“He’s waving and yelling for us to stop,” yelled Bertha.
“Ouch!” protested Moses. “Gosh darn it, Apollo! That’s my ribs.”
“He says Mink’s ahead,” came Apollo’s frantic warning loudly in my ear.
“Stop, Abel! Stop!” cried Miss Lightfoot.
Mink ahead of us? I couldn’t take the chance. “Whoa!” I brought us to a halt on the grassy verge.
Earle pulled over behind us, and I jumped down to go to him. “What’s this about Mink?” I insisted as the others scrambled out of the wagon.
Earle panted as if he’d been running, not the horses. “Hey, there!” he said to Tauseret. “You cleaned up right good.”
“What about Mink?” I pressed.
“Hold up.” He patted his brow with a handkerchief that had started life as a tablecloth.
“Tell us first if Mink is near, then you can take your time,” I said.
“He’s up the road a pace, waiting for me,” said Earle. “Far enough still. I left him there a whiles ago to come down here.”
We had stopped in time, it seemed. I trembled anyway. Tauseret must have sensed this, for she pressed herself against my back and slid her arms around my waist. It was a comfort.
“Were you running from Ceecee?” Earle asked.
“You know about that varmint?” Mr. Bopp said, and snapped his teeth.
Earle winced. “Yeah, he was supposed to kidnap Abel and signal me with a lantern so’s I could get Mink and his hired help to round you all back up while you was scart and confused.”
“Earle!” gasped Miss Lightfoot.
“I wasn’t gonna do it!” he proclaimed. “Once Ceecee was out of there with Abel, I was gonna go in and warn you. Sorry, Abel,” he said to me. “Best I could do. Not much a fat man can manage.”
Tauseret let me go so she could stride up to Earle and reach up to grab a handful of his dungarees at the knee. “You didn’t know that Ceecee would slay him instead?” she asked ferociously.
Earle’s mouth fell open. “Where’s Ceecee?” he whispered.
“Hanging dead from the undercarriage like a side of beef,” said Moses, relishing the revelation.
Earle’s gulp sent shock waves down his ample form.
Bertha laughed shrilly. A cloud crossed the moon and left us in shadows. The other children joined in the lau
ghter, disembodied voices in the dark, like spiteful elemental spirits. I shivered.
“That’s okay,” I said to Earle. “You weren’t to know what Ceecee had in mind.” The moon showed its face again. “Who’s this hired help you mention? Does he have more men now?”
“We was up in Osceola this morning,” said Earle, eyeing the underbelly of our wagon. “And I was outside a tavern by the square ’cause they don’t build doors for folk my size. The doctor was inside rounding up thugs for the price of a few drinks. The sort of feller who drinks in the morning is a rough character, and he was recruiting an army of ’em. Telling them tales of how he was robbed. Promising them ample re-wards. He loaded them in some wagons with a barrel of ale, and we came down this way with a plan.”
“We should go back,” said Miss Lightfoot. Her voice shook.
“And know Mink is breathing down our backs?” I answered. “He’s not going to wait long when Earle doesn’t show.”
“A railroad line crosses the road ahead,” said Earle. “Mink is across the tracks. Hid in a hollow off the road. There’s a lane on this side of the tracks that follows the railroad west. We could sneak on up there and be on the lane before he noticed.”
“I don’t like our chances,” said Mr. Bopp, and Mr. Ginger nodded agreement.
“The bone man will get us,” cried Willie. He held on to Bertha.
“We should sweep them from our path like the cowardly scum they are,” proclaimed Tauseret, waving her fist.
“With what exactly?” I asked. Her opinion of my military skills was obviously not based on this century’s incarnation.
“Can’t we cut across the fields?” asked Miss Lightfoot.
Earle pouted like a giant baby. “I couldn’t be coming with you across no fields,” he said. “My cart would stick for sure.”
“He’s right,” I said, “and so would our wagon.” I groped for an idea of what to do. Any idea. I felt helpless.
A whistle sounded in the distance.
“The morning train,” guessed Moses.
“That train’s gonna come between us and Mink,” said Earle in a rush of excitement. “It’ll cross the road slow.”