Chapter 22
It come as no surprise Laci learned the song quick as she did. Clayton played it twice and then she played bit by bit, all the way through, like she’d heard it a hundred times already. Wonder filled his face as he chose a small section of the record to play, stopped it, then waited as she placed her fiddle under her chin and coaxed out an identical rendition. She lowered her fiddle and waited for him to move the needle to some other spot. In random snippets here and there, Laci proved she could play the song, having only heard it fully two times. Clayton gaped at me while pointing at her.
He said, “I ain’t never seen the likes of nothing like it.”
I said, “I reckon not. Laci’s remarkable.”
“She sure is, she’s something else.”
It won’t what he said, but how he said it, and it made my heart feel like it had been exposed to a deep freeze, creating a deep ache in response. The walk back was just as quiet, the three of us side by side yet seeming very far apart. Clayton glanced at me a time or two. I refused to look his way, as I won’t in the mood for prying questions. Although we hurried, the hour was gone. Closer to our tents, he slowed down like he wanted to talk, only I kept going.
He said, “Wallis Ann.”
With a sigh, I stopped and turned around. “What?”
“You sure there ain’t something wrong? You seem different.”
I stared into his serious brown eyes for what I thought I’d seen there before, only now they hid his thoughts, like Laci hid hers.
I said, “So do you, Clayton.”
“How am I different?”
I won’t sure how to answer him. I couldn’t say, You’re being too nice to my sister. I’d thought at first his attentiveness to Laci was all because of me, only now as things went along, it didn’t seem like that at all. I recollected the kiss, and then, after meeting her, he changed, transferring his attentions.
Without thinking, I blurted out, “Why’d you ever kiss me, Clayton?”
A fiddle string plunked, an interruption distracting enough to make him look at Laci. Papa had joined Momma, and they glared in our direction. I could feel Papa’s disapproval from where I stood.
Clayton looked at them nervously too and said, “Maybe we could talk tonight. After the show?”
“I guess.”
I walked away without waiting to see if Clayton had anything else to say.
Laci didn’t follow me until I turned and said, “Laci!”
When we got close enough, Papa said, “She better have learned it.”
“She knows it, Papa.”
Momma watched Clayton leaving and turned to me. “You look upset, Wallis Ann.”
“I’m not upset!”
Momma shook her head like she couldn’t fathom what had got into me.
At the cookhouse tent, I spent most of the time shoving my food around instead of eating, glad when we left so I could give up the pretense. We went to the arena as scheduled and immediately my eyes was drawn to a new sign sitting at the entrance. SPECIAL SHOW TONIGHT! CLASSICAL MUSIC PERFORMED BY THE MOUNTAIN MUTE! The mountain mute. Whatever aggravation and confusion I’d been feeling about Laci went out of me as I gaped in shock. I pointed without a word, and Papa stopped dead cold in his tracks.
Momma yanked his shirtsleeve. “No! Oh no!”
Papa jerked his arm from Momma’s grip and marched over to the sign, grabbing it off the stand as Chili Mac stopped taking money from the long line of folks.
Chili Mac yelled “Hey! What’re you doing? You ain’t supposed to tetch that!”
“Damned if I ain’t! Where’s Johnny Cooper?”
Chili Mac pointed inside the tent while all the people who’d been waiting in line pointed at us.
We could hear the people muttering, “There she is, the mountain mute! That’s her, right there! I seen her the other night! What all you reckon’s wrong with her?”
Papa said, “Come on!” as he stomped inside the tent, yelling, “Cooper!”
Momma said, “Oh dear God,” as we followed. Papa and Mr. Cooper got into an animated discussion, arms waving about, with Papa’s face going red as a tomato while he waved the sign in front of Mr. Cooper’s face. I ain’t ever heard Papa sound the way he did right then.
His voice held a quiet warning. “This here’s my daughter you’re talking about.”
“I ain’t said nothing what ain’t true. She don’t talk and she’s from the mountains. It’s all true!”
“You’re trying to make her seem like a sideshow, like a freak, and she ain’t no freak. I won’t have you putting her on display. We don’t need your money this bad.”
I’d never seen Papa in such a state. He lifted his arms and slammed the sign against a raised knee. It busted in two and he tossed the pieces to the ground. Mr. Cooper tried to smile at the flow of people still coming in, filling the arena to standing room only. He smoothed his hand over his hair, nodding at them like nothing won’t wrong, everything’s fine here.
Arms held out, Mr. Cooper made a gesture what said Calm down, and in a tight but calm voice, he said, “Okay. Okay. Please, Mr. Stamper, ain’t no need of getting all riled up!”
Everyone was watching. They could tell something was going on.
He sounded a bit whiny when he said, “I assure you, the sign, seeing as how you broke it, will not be replaced.”
Papa leaned down to Mr. Cooper. “And I want ten percent of the cut, not seven.”
Mr. Cooper puckered his mouth, and his face twisted like his feet hurt. “Fine, fine then. That too.”
Papa said, “Deal?”
“Deal.”
They shook, while I’d gone red hot as a poker at Papa over his dickering like she was a freak.
I pulled on Momma’s sleeve. “How can he haggle over her? It don’t seem right, that ain’t no different than Mr. Cooper.”
Momma’s expression was hard, like the day the doctor said, “idiot savant,” yet she didn’t make a move to stop him.
She shook her head. “Your papa’s feeling a bit desperate, Wallis Ann. We need this money. Don’t worry. He won’t allow Laci to be humiliated.”
I thought he already had, though I reckon he was as upset as me. When he come over to us, I could have sworn I felt heat coming off him.
He said, “I can’t believe he thought he could pull that stunt.”
Momma said, “It’s all over now.”
Clayton seen us standing together near the platform, and ventured over to stand at my elbow.
I snapped at him, “Did you know anything about that sign out front?”
He looked surprised and said, “What sign?” and the innocent look he wore seemed genuine.
I looked away. “Never mind.”
Mr. Massey hurried in, and without consulting with Mr. Cooper, he began talking about the show for the night. “Ladies and gentlemen! Do we have a special treat for you!”
Mr. Massey motioned at Clayton, and Clayton put his hand under Laci’s elbow escorting her away from us and onto the platform. He held her fiddle while she sat down on a chair placed in the center of the platform, and much like her petting that two-headed sheep, it seemed curious how she went along with things where Clayton was involved.
Mr. Massey went on, “See this girl here, she’s a mount . . .”
Mr. Cooper yelled, “Hold up, wait!” and hurried over.
The crowd buzzed and whispered. Mr. Cooper held a private conversation with Mr. Massey, gesturing at Papa. Mr. Massey stared our way, his expression as flat as a fallow field. Mr. Cooper backed away giving Papa an apologetic look. Clayton bent over Laci, talking in her ear.
Mr. Massey yelled, “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s hear it for our mountain miss! Laci Stamper!”
Clayton stepped off to the side of the platform, staying where she could see him. She sat motionless, the lavender dress spread out over her knees, gripping her fiddle tight. She peeked through a strand of hair to her left, and then to her right. She’d become aware we won’t there with her, and suddenly I was scared for her and wanted her to do good. I wanted her to make us proud, to prove to everyone here she was special. I held my breath until she bent her head to the left, and placed the fiddle under her chin. Everyone hushed, and it was as if they all leaned forward at once in anticipation.
With her right hand holding the bow to the strings, she pulled out a long, sweet note. She played the songs she learned, the sound saturating the arena like a warm rain falling and drenching a drought-stricken land. I would like to say she played flawlessly, only the songs won’t familiar enough for me to know. It seemed in my mind, she played pretty as a lark singing. When she finished, it was clear the crowd loved her. She lowered the fiddle and then her head as if to avoid seeing the people before her. Everyone jumped to their feet, pounding out approval with their boots on the seats and their hands. She remained seated, her face bleached of color, like she’d just woke up from some sort of stupor.
We hurried towards the stage, and Papa give her his hand. She rose from the chair to stand beside him, and I quickly moved the chair off the platform to make room. Papa didn’t bother to wait for Mr. Massey. He began singing “Black-Eyed Susie” a cappella, and at the start of that familiar song, Laci went to playing with a fervor I’d not seen before, her arm cranking furiously to the mountain tune. We sang a few songs. When Papa and I started clogging, I put all I had into it, beating my shoes against the boards in a steady rhythm, working out my anger through clogging. I sang loud, and clogged hard, trying to expel all them new feelings about what was happening, all of it bubbling inside of me like a hot spring. I glanced out across the crowd once to see if Clayton was watching. He won’t nowhere I could see, and my mood plummeted the same way I’d seen him fall from that tall platform.
Finally, it was over, and the crowd left, going on about the show they’d seen. The inside of the tent felt hot and stuffy, and all I wanted was to get out into the night air. I wanted to go to the tent, lie down, close my eyes, go to sleep and forget. About everything. I didn’t care about what Clayton wanted to tell me. As the crowd was leaving, Mr. Cooper come, handed Papa some money, and left without a word.
Papa pocketed the money, and Momma said, “Ain’t you going to count it?”
“I don’t want to know.”
“What do you mean you don’t want to know? The place was full. He told us it would hold a hundred people. He gets twenty-five cent a person, so we ought to get two dollars and fifty cent.”
“I can cipher on my own, Ann. I know what we ought to get, but I’m tired of arguing for the night.”
“But if you don’t tell him now, you can’t prove it.”
“I ain’t messing with it tonight, I said.”
Momma heaved a frustrated sigh. We left the arena tent, skirting around the crowd by Clayton’s platform. I hoped he’d look for me where we usually stood. I hoped he’d notice I won’t there, and worry about it. As we made our way through the yard, Momma and Papa spoke politely to some of the other workers here and there.
They shouted, “Heard that oldest gal was something else!” and “What kind a music was that?”
Papa said, “Just music.”
I breathed in deep, noticing the smells hung thick and strong, even in the cold. One had to get outside the boundaries of the traveling show to get to fresh air. I raised my arm to sniff my sleeve, and even my clothes smelled like this place. Once inside our tent, I took off the blue and green plaid dress and hung it over the line in the corner Papa had strung up for this purpose. Laci took off her lavender dress. I lay on my cot, closed my eyes, tried to empty my head as Laci laid her fingers on my bare arm, tracing the tips back and forth until we both fell asleep.
* * *
The next morning when I woke up, my thoughts about Laci’s performance and the attention she got went to festering like a sore. Even though all of us performed, we might as well have got off the stage and left her to it alone. It won’t no matter to Momma and Papa because they was proud of us both, but it got stuck in my craw, this idea my singing and dancing won’t appreciated. I got to remembering how I went with a few of my classmates to a clogging contest held down to Cullowhee a couple years ago. Momma, Papa, Laci and Seph, who was only a baby at the time, had come to see me dance, and I was proud I could show them what I’d been working on in secret. We did all kinds of dancing and included steps like Kentucky Drag, Shave and a Haircut, and the Cowboy. We won the trophy too, and that was probably the only time I felt I won’t being likened to Laci, the one time I done something where nobody else noticed her over me. It had felt real good, and I had wanted that day to last forever.
I went out of the tent, ignoring Laci as she reached for my hand, wondering how it would be if the only person I had to worry about was me. I went about my business like she won’t there, trying to whitewash my thoughts towards this fresh idea of an existence as an individual person. She come towards me time and again and I turned away, refused to look at her when her eyes sought mine. It felt odd. Mean-spirited. Unnatural, in fact. I found I couldn’t keep up denying her. We’d always been so close, I couldn’t see things no other way. By dinnertime, I relented and Laci hurried over to press against me hard like she was trying to make up for the lack of contact.
Laci being on her own in some capacity was unlikely, and I doubted there’d ever come a time we’d go our separate ways. I thought of five years from now, ten years from now, my whole life laid out before me with Laci attached in some way, a constant companion, no matter what I chose to do. I would never be just me, Wallis Ann, uniquely set apart from her, or her wants. That was when, maybe for the first time ever, I understood, my own wishes for what I wanted to do with my life might not matter. I’d never thought of it before, and I pushed that fact away, knowing if I spent too much time dwelling on it, this tinge of resentment I was starting to carry round was only going to grow.
The next two nights the arena tent was packed. Word had traveled to other areas and we heard folks was traveling in from Walhalla, Seneca, and Long Creek, and other places to hear Laci play. I didn’t see much of Clayton, and considering how Papa had been about her learning songs and the way I’d acted, I won’t surprised. I didn’t stick around to watch his high dive either. I’d hoped he’d search me out, and when he didn’t, I went back to our tents, expecting he’d come the next day. I pictured him taking my hand, telling me he’d missed me.
The third night, and still Clayton didn’t show up to watch us although he had his own show. Again, I made myself go back to our tents with Momma and Papa, only to collapse on the cot, filled with despair. Laci lay down without getting undressed, and I started to poke her, tell her to get out of her good clothes, and thought, If she wants to sleep in her clothes, who cares? It was the last thought I had before I fell into a deep sleep.
The crunch of footsteps outside the tent woke me and I immediately sensed something off. Gritting my teeth, I turned over. Laci won’t in her cot. Angry and frustrated all at once, I yanked on a dress not caring which one it was. I put my shoes on and slapped the tent flap she’d left untied out of my way, and walked into the cold night air, my breath creating small vaporous clouds before me. I looked to Momma and Papa’s tent, knowing they slept. Footsteps a short distance away caught my ear and under the bright moonlight, I seen two figures walking together. I recognized them as sure as I’d recognized my own self in the mirror.
My heart went wild, beating like it was trying to escape my body. I hurried to follow, tucked away in the shadows. They walked slow, like they had all the time in the world. Clayton looked over his shoulder now and then, like he was nervous about getting caught. I was unsure of what to do. The idea Laci went willingly give me an uneasy feeling. They went by other tents carefully, then by the cookhouse. I ducked behind what I could here and there, while trying not to lose sight of them. They passed Diablo’s, and Trixie’s family’s tents. They went by the diving platform, and his small tent.
Where was he taking her?
Finally, they come to a section roped off, a grassy area where the horses and mules was kept. I scooted behind a large tree, my throat dry as the sawdust I’d just walked over. Clayton whistled low and a horse come to the fence. He reached into his pocket and pulled out an apple.
He give it to Laci, and I could hear him say, “This here’s my horse, Nugget. See? He likes you, I can tell by the way he’s wanting you to give him that apple.”
He placed a hand under Laci’s arm and urged her to hold the fruit resting on the flat part of her palm, the same way Papa had showed us a long time ago. The horse lipped the fruit, carefully taking it from her. I could hear munching noises as it ate. Then Clayton did something so unexpected, so startling, I almost cried out. He leaned in, and dipped his head toward Laci. He hesitated, then he kissed her exactly like he’d done with me. She pulled away from him, pushed against his chest like she was scared. I wanted to go to her, but I was frozen, my feet unable to receive what my brain told them.
What happened next was as shocking as seeing Seph drink the tainted water.
She stepped close to him, this girl who’d only ever wanted certain people to touch her, pressing against him so her breasts touched his chest. He put his arms around her the way he’d done me, and it was like I was standing at the edge of the waterfall and he was pushing me over the ledge. I leaned against the tree, the bark digging into my wrists and hands. I began to back away, only I couldn’t stop watching as he kissed her, again and again. It seemed Laci was kissing him too when she put her arms around his shoulders, and he drew her closer still, his hands gripping her waist. I felt sick to my stomach the way I had after eating too fast when we first come.
I began inching along backwards, keeping close to the tree line, hiding myself in the shadows. How stupid I’d been to think Clayton would like me. My legs felt like boards, unbendable, my thoughts as sharp and hard as the wires of a barbed-wire fence. I thought I might would cry, only I couldn’t. My eyes stayed dry as a used-up well. I don’t remember much about leaving, only that I stumbled a few times, like a drunk man I’d seen once. Somehow I found myself at the tents and somehow I went through the motions of undressing again.
I laid down, hearing my own heart inside me, an erratic pounding I couldn’t escape. Before long, there come the stealthy movements of someone trying to be sneaky. Then a male voice whispering. What kept me still was the shock of what I might see again. A few minutes went by, and then Laci come into the tent, slowly feeling her way over to her cot. Even in the dimness, her features stood out, the dark circles of her eyes, the line of her mouth, yet it was the curve of it, clearly seen in the predawn light what sent an icy chill over me. Bewildered, and amazed, it showed something I’d never seen, in all my born days. Something Laci never ever done, not to our knowledge.
She smiled.