Adeline picked her way through the tall grass surrounding the midway, back towards the main performance tent, barefoot in a pale peach silk robe with a regal looking swan embroidered across the back. Settled in the crook of her right elbow was a shiny, weighted gold hoop, and rolled and tucked under her left arm was one of her heavy promotional banners, tied with a bright red ribbon. She hurried as quickly as she might, not wishing to keep Elsa waiting. When Adeline had rushed off to return Maximus to his enclosure and throw on a costume, she’d heard Elsa snapping at those remaining in the tent to take the table away, and set up a grouping of chairs. Reaching the main tent, she pulled aside the tent flap and ducked inside. The girls were still practicing, so Adeline found a chair off to the side, waiting politely for Elsa to summon her. She sat with her eyes facing forward, attempting to clear her mind, intentionally avoiding the gaze of the young man with whom she had exchanged glances earlier, deliberately ignoring him in order to avoid any lapses in her pre-performance concentration. In many ways, although it was not a formal performance before an audience, auditions before new troupes were more nerve-wracking for Adeline than going on before a full house. Visitors to a show were likely to be delighted by her act simply because it was different, exciting, and new. Most individuals would go their entire lives without meeting someone with syndactyly. An outfit dedicated to exhibition and performance, like a carnival, a circus, or a freak show, was likely to be comprised of individuals who had plenty of experience between them, and plenty of reference with which to make comparisons. Such outfits were also likely to be quite protective of the dynamics already associated with their lineup, and mistrusting, even of their own kind, if the newcomer was unknown to them.
“All right, girls! That’s enough for now!” Elsa declared. She had not looked at Adeline once since the girl re-entered the tent, but she had been acutely aware of when she re-appeared. She turned to Adeline now, smiling with an air of sly mystery about her, one Adeline supposed was an integral part of her character. She gestured grandly out in front of her,
“The stage is yours.”
Adeline nodded and stood, draping her hoop crosswise on her body, hanging it off her left shoulder and letting it bump against her right hip. Building momentum in her stride, she placed her palms far apart on the stage and hopped up with charming fluidity, landing between them on balls of her feet. She rose to stand at the edge of the stage, her back to all those still in attendance…the stunning three breasted woman at the piano to Adeline’s right, the giantess, the twins, Elsa, and the tiny woman beside her, filing her fingernails. And Jimmy.
Adeline pulled her hoop over her head and dropped it to the stage floor with a metallic clatter, and reached into her left pocket to pull out the carefully rolled piece of sheet music stored there. She strode over and presented it to the woman at the piano, holding it out cautiously to see if she would accept it. The woman nodded to her, arranging it at the piano. Quietly, the woman began to practice the notes before her, as Adeline returned to center stage. She reached into her right pocket and took out her half shoes. Normally, a performer wore them covering their toes as well as half of their feet, but due to Adeline’s matching webbing on her feet, hers were modified, strips of ballet pink leather with suede padded bottoms, fitting just over the balls of her feet, so she could spin on varied surfaces without discomfort….or splinters. As the woman at the piano practiced quietly, familiarizing herself with the music, Adeline unknotted the sash tied loosely at her waist, and turned her back to the audience, dropping it past her shoulders and down past her thighs, snapping it up in her left hand before hurrying stage right to toss her robe over a crate. As she returned to center stage, the woman at the piano called to her.
“This tempo all right?”
“Yes,” Adeline said, turning to give her a pleasant smile. “Thank you.”
She reached down to the stage floor and retrieved her hoop, and when she rose, she made the mistake of meeting the eyes of the man she assumed they must call Lobster Boy. He had been watching her muscular, pale legs from mid-thigh down, exposed in her short robe, rife with anticipation of seeing what she might be wearing underneath. And he wasn’t disappointed when she revealed her costume. The top layer of her leotard was white silk, but it was difficult for anyone to have known such, bedecked as it was with intricate, glamorous beading and sequins in white, clear, silver, and the occasional, strategically placed gold. Strapless, the leotard ended in discreet shorts that carefully covered anything not meant to be seen in public, yet at the same time showed off all that was acceptably displayed in a carnival performance setting. Jimmy’s mouth hung slightly open as he sat in his chair slack jawed, his expressive brown eyes roving over Adeline with an innocent wonder that embodied both lust and admiration. He smiled, his lips drawing outward in a lazy grin, governed by the intoxication of genuine attraction. Adeline couldn’t help but give a brief, fleeting smile in return, turning around once again, posing with her left hand raised above her head at her side, elbow bent, hoop balanced towards the audience, left hand down by her waist, artfully posed.
She nodded to the woman at the piano, and as her music began, she rose onto the pad of her right foot, spinning around gracefully, lifting her left leg horizontally beside her as she spun. This particular performance she improvised, inspired by whichever tricks she was moved to exhibit, having not performed before an audience in many months, showcasing only a miniscule selection of all she was capable of demonstrating. She dipped her hoop downwards towards the floor in a diagonal direction, following with her opposite leg, landing on her opposite forearm to flip over onto her leading knee and land with her other foot flat on the ground, down on one knee. She rose up again, skipping forward a few steps, and began to spin around on her right foot, raising her hoop high into the air above her, lifting her left leg up to arch it towards her head, using the momentum of her arms as they spun the hoop to keep her body spinning. Between tricks, she peppered in elegant balletic transitions, pointing her toes every moment either her feet were off the floor, using elegant movements to transition from display to display. She proceeded with artful hops and intricate stepping through and about the hoop, and then swung her leg up, dropping the hoop onto her ankle and beginning a spin while she bent forward into a handstand, using gentle rotations of her hip to keep the spin going as she spread elegantly into a horizontal split. She held her pose momentarily, then stepped all the way through, walking over. She began then to exhibit her spinning ability, starting first on her wrist held high in the air, and using her muscles to work the hoop gradually down to her knees, spinning it on various points. She rolled the hoop from one hand across her chest to the other. She spun on one foot in a vertical split, spinning the hoop around her wrist, all the while, whenever possible, holding her hands open to display her webbing. She leapt gracefully in the air, then tossed the hoop towards the peak of the tent, rolling forward in an elegant somersault to catch the hoop on an extended ankle where she continued to spin it around, switching to a wrist as she raised herself back up on her feet, propelling herself powerfully across the stage, leaping up into a split as she passed the hoop beneath herself from one hand to another. For her finish, in a standing position, she rolled the hoop backwards behind her and snatched it up with her left foot, spinning it around her ankle as she rose her leg slowly higher and higher, ending in another vertical split as she leaned forward, pushing her arms back behind her, her fingers spread so her arms appeared like a swan’s wings, hoop spinning around her ankle above her. She tossed the hoop off her foot and forward, bending her knee to form an attractive arc as the hoop flew in front of her. She caught it with her hand and spun around gracefully once more, her leg out beside her. Then, as her music stopped, she held the hoop out beside her in one hand, and took her bow.
Adeline was prepared to be stared at by a stone-faced troupe. What she as not prepared for was the enthusiasm of the first feedback she received, in the form of the Lobster Boy leaping to his feet.
“Bravo!” he shouted, smiling and spiritedly clapping his hands. Adeline smiled, tightly, tremendously appreciative of the applause and the praise, but concerned about Elsa’s response, as it was clearly she who controlled Adeline’s fate, and, as was likely Elsa’s intention, Adeline could not read the expression on her face. The others in the tent had begun clapping politely, and the giantess and the tiny woman were actually smiling at Adeline, friendly expressions which she gladly returned.
Elsa rose from her seat abruptly, stubbing out her cigarette in an ashtray beside her on the dirt floor of the tent.
“Come!” she demanded. “We will speak privately!”
Hastily, Adeline retrieved her robe and put it back on. She stuffed her half shoes back into her pocket, and with thanks to the piano player, she fetched her music and her hoop. She jumped off the stage and grabbed her banner from the chair where she’d been seated, and rushed after Elsa, who had breezed efficiently through the tent and was on her way, not intending to wait for anyone. Ethel watched her friend saunter out of the tent, certain Elsa would offer her a job, but uncertain what exactly their conversation would entail.
The first words out of Elsa’s mouth when the two sat across from one another in the headliner’s tent, once Elsa had made herself comfortable and had lit a cigarette were
“So. What is your background?”
Adeline took a deep breath, uttering her Uncle’s full name, the one under which he was billed and promoted, for the first time in over a year. “Well…you’ve heard of Sebastian Vestergaard? He went by Kurt in circuit.”
Elsa’s dramatically penciled eyebrows raised, and she leaned forward, ashing her cigarette into a crystal ashtray. “Please. Go on.”
Nearly and hour later, the two had agreed on a contract, and Elsa Mars, who had only just that afternoon complained about the stink of having animal acts on site, had hired Adeline at an acceptable percentage, and had acquired both a Swan and a Lion for her cabinet. Elsa returned from her minibar to the settees opposite one another, holding a glass of schnapps in each hand. One she gave to Adeline, the other she kept for herself. She raised her glass to the younger girl once she was seated.
“Prosit!” Elsa declared.
Adeline raised her glass, grinning at Elsa as she replied, “Zu dir, Dachhimmel!”
Having changed out of her costume and back into the outfit she’d been wearing when she arrived, Jimmy found Adeline unhitching her trailers from her pickup truck. Her head was bowed, but she turned to raise her eyes to him when she heard his voice
“Hey!” he called.
“Hi!” Adeline said. Finished, she stood up, wiping her hands on a rag hanging out of her back pocket.
“So you’re joining the show huh?” Jimmy asked.
Adeline nodded. “Yes.”
Jimmy raised his eyebrows, and one side of his mouth in a smirk “I can see why, that was one hell of a performance in there!”
Adeline smiled at him, stepping up on the running board of her truck to put the rag back in utility box she kept in the truck bed. Then she came around to stand near him once again, meeting him where he had followed her to the back of the truck.
“Thank you.”
“I’m Jimmy. Jimmy Darling.” He put out his hand, and his chest swelled with pride….and perhaps….affection…when she extended her own and shook his, grasping it firmly and without hesitation, looking not at down at his deformity but straight into his eyes. He realized she must have been taught at a young age to take pride in herself, and he liked that.
“Adeline…Vestergaard.” Her surname sounded familiar to Jimmy, but he wasn’t certain why.
Jimmy did not let go. He held her hand, gently, but with assurance.
“Lobster Boy,” he said, chuckling, and holding the smile when he stopped laughing.
Adeline laughed, too, and her voice was soft and lyrical when she replied “Swan Girl.”
He finally let go, reluctantly. “Well, welcome.”
“Thank You,” Adeline said, with another smile. She put her hands in her jean pockets, rolling the toes of her black and white saddle oxford in the dirt.
In the silence, Jimmy saw his opportunity.
“Say, uh, a bunch of us are going into town, there’s a diner there….we were gonna have an early dinner on account of the curfew….would you wanna come along?”
Adeline smiled again.
“I’d like to, but I’ve got something I need to do in town…would it be all right if I followed you?”
Jimmy nodded. “Sure...Maybe next time.”
Adeline nodded once, a definite assent. “I’d like that.” She paused. “Would you happen to know where in town I might find a butcher shop?”
Jimmy looked puzzled, then recalled the lion dozing nearby in his enclosure. “Yeah, I can point you in that direction when we get there.”
Ethel was heading in their direction, calling to Jimmy. He sighed.
“Just a second…Ma needs me.”
He jogged over to Ethel, and after a brief conversation came back to Adeline, who had fetched a black cardigan from her caravan, one she was slipping her arms into when Jimmy came back.
“Say, uh, Elsa wants us to hang your banner while we’re headed in that direction, you got it handy?”
Adeline nodded, and popped into her caravan. She had two bundles, one with her longer, narrower roadside banner, the other more square shaped, meant to line the walkway up to the entrance along with the others. She held them out to Jimmy. “The red ribbon is the roadside, the white is the entrance. I can help you hang it if-“
Jimmy stopped her, holding up one of his hands. “Nah, we got ‘em all rigged, it’ll be up in no time. Eve can help me. You be ready to go in about ten minutes?” Jimmy asked.
“I’m ready when you are,” Adeline said.
Walking down the streets of Jupiter, dejected, humiliated, and badly beaten after his confrontation with Dell outside the diner, Jimmy spat blood angrily onto the sidewalk. The other freaks had found a roadside spot where they’d gotten food to go, and were seated together parked by a charming vacant lot overgrown with flowers, having a private picnic. Jimmy had elected to go off on his own. He hadn’t even realized which direction he was headed until he noticed he was in the area of the butcher shop. Vividly, the sight of Adeline’s banner flashed in his mind. Painted in the bottom right corner was the face of her handsome lion, and the painted ribbons decorating the top left corner and bottom right read “The Swan Girl” and “& the King of the Jungle” respectively. The rest of the banner had been taken up by a surprisingly accurate rendering, of Adeline, pictured in a white costume, with her hands fanned open, crossed over her chest, perched on her collarbones. Jimmy was reminded of the image now, and when he looked straight head, still walking, he saw her standing with a burly looking young man in all white, his blood covered apron a most telling garment.
Adeline was pointing to where she wanted the insulated, ice filled crate placed, packed with sixty pounds of meat, had thanked the young man for toting her goods, and was ready to get into her truck when she stopped short in the butcher shop parking lot, seeing Jimmy looking all the worse for wear. Twirling her keys in her hands, Jimmy realized she was wearing white wrist length gloves. Her gloves had individual fingers but were cut so that with her webbing folded one would have to manually examine her hands, or study them very, very closely to notice something was different. He was reminded of his own leather gloves. Adeline pulled them off and tossed them onto the driver’s seat through the partially opened window. Then she jogged over to Jimmy, alarmed, and he almost smiled at the way her ponytail swung back and forth behind her as she ran. She stopped short in front of him.
“What the hell happened to you in the last forty five minutes?”
Jimmy groaned. “Our new barker has bite.”
Adeline sighed. “Come on.”
She walked slowly back with him to her truck, not offering assistance so as to avoid hurting his pride. When he climbed into the passenger’s seat, she reached into the crate in the truck bed and pulled out a smaller hunk of ice, taking a clean rag in which to wrap it from the utility box beside the crate. She reached through the window, handing Jimmy the ice. “Here,” she said.
In the short time that Adeline’s banner had been up, Jimmy was not the only person on whom it had made an impression. Rolling by in her Rolls Royce on her way home from her weekly afternoon card game with her girlfriends from high school was Gloria Mott. She enjoyed the opportunity to drive nearly an hour outside town to Peggy DeWitt’s home, to see those friends of hers she had known since their days at the private academy for young ladies of means that they had all attended during the same period. It was a shame Lydia Cushing no longer attended…but she and Gloria had been on strained terms ever since the incident between their children, and when the unspoken impasse had been reached, their mutual friends unanimously chose Gloria. It wasn’t something Gloria liked to think about.
But here, as if serendipitously, unmistakably, was the girl on the banner! Gloria had assumed as much when she saw the girl’s face, but now, having slowed her car and gotten the chance to view the girl’s hands as she collected what appeared to be ice, she was certain of it. Having thought immediately of Dandy when she saw the banner, Gloria did not hesitate, pleased at her remarkable fortune. She pulled her car over. Gloria rolled down her window and turned down her radio, leaning out of the car slightly to call to the girl standing in he parking lot of the butcher shop.
“Excuse me? Miss? Do you give private performances? For children?”
Notes:
"Zu dir, Dachhimmel!” translates to "To You, Headliner!"