Glory motioned for Lilly to follow her toward the boxcar door. Lilly did as she was told. But when they reached the door, she shrank back, blinking, and put her hands over her ears. The sounds were too loud and the light hurt her eyes.
A city of tents and people and animals filled a field of brown grass outside the boxcar. The big top lay flat on the ground while men worked all around it, putting the walls together and lacing up seams. An elephant carried long posts curled in its trunk across the lot, while another pushed posts upright with its forehead and the help of workers pulling ropes. Groups of men stood in circles and took turns swinging big hammers over their heads, bringing them back down on tent stakes, pounding them into the ground and filling the air with loud bangs. High poles stuck out from the big top’s center and sides, like a giant bug with a hundred feelers. Men shouted and yelled to be heard above the noise. A group of dark-skinned workers struggled to hang oversized banners in front of a tent across from a row of red-and-white-striped candy apple, popcorn, and hot-dog stands. Draft horses hauled wagons, equipment, and cages filled with monkeys, bears, lions, and tigers around the yard. Red and gold letters on wagons with sunburst wheels read: THE BARLOW BROTHERS’ CIRCUS, THE MOST AMAZING SHOW ON EARTH. Two men on horseback galloped past the boxcar, kicking up clouds of dust.
Glory eased over the edge of the door down to the gravel, then smiled up at Lilly. “It’s all right,” she said. “Come on.”
Lilly didn’t want to, but she took her hands from her ears and climbed down. When she felt something warm on her arms and face, she looked up and squinted. It was the sun. Shielding her eyes with her hand, she looked from horizon to horizon. The sky was bigger than she had ever dreamed. And there were birds, flying like black arrows back and forth over the tents and people. She glanced up and down the railroad tracks. The train was so long she couldn’t see the end. The parts she could see were made up of boxcars, flat cars, and passenger cars with windows. Men and women came out of the passenger cars and boxcars and made their way toward a tent with an orange flag. Next to the tent, a big tank belched steam.
“After you get her cleaned up and fed,” Merrick said from the boxcar doorway, “bring her back to the train and we’ll show her to Mr. Barlow.”
Glory nodded and started walking. Lilly followed her away from the railroad tracks toward the lot, staring at the dust clouds kicked up by Glory’s feet, the clumps of grass, the dandelions, and the stones. A bee landed on a dry clover blossom, and a tiny white butterfly flitted past her nose. She nearly tripped three times, unable to take her eyes off everything she was seeing. As they entered the lot, a man went by on horseback and the ground vibrated beneath her feet. The yelling and pounding of stakes grew louder, but she resisted the urge to put her hands over her ears. Every once in a while, one of the workers glanced up at her, and it made her stomach turn over. What if someone wanted to slit her throat? She hunched her shoulders and walked as close to Glory as she could without touching her, trying to make herself smaller. There was so much to see—tents and people and animals and flags and banners and posters—and she didn’t want to miss anything. At the same time, she didn’t want to look. It was too much and too close and too big and too loud.
“You okay?” Glory said.
Lilly bit her lip and nodded.
When they reached a line of tents at the far end of the lot behind the big top, Glory stopped, held open a tent flap, and waited for Lilly to enter. Inside, rows of buckets sat in front of suitcases, trunks, and racks of colorful costumes. Dressing tables and vanities and mirrors lined the back wall. Lilly’s heart leapt in her chest. Was she about to see herself for the very first time? She dropped her eyes, unsure if she should she go over to the mirrors or run out of the tent.
Glory led her over to a bucket, picked up a cloth and a bar of soap from a table, and knelt down. She dunked the cloth and soap into the bucket and slowly made a move to wash Lilly’s face. Lilly drew away, her chin to her chest.
“It’s all right,” Glory said. “I’m just going to clean you up a little.”
Lilly stared at Glory. Why wasn’t she afraid? Was it because she looked different too?
Glory sighed, then smiled and held out the cloth. Lilly slowly reached out and took it, then rubbed it over her face. It felt good.
“Are you doing okay?” Glory said. “I know this is a big change and it all must seem so scary.”
Lilly clenched her jaw to keep her chin from trembling and shrugged.
“Did Merrick really save you from an orphanage?”
Lilly wasn’t sure what an orphanage was, but she shook her head anyway.
“A hospital?”
Lilly shook her head again.
“Did he take you from your daddy?”
Lilly’s eyes flooded. She shook her head a third time.
Glory frowned. “Where did he get you, then?” She took the rag, rinsed it, and handed it back to Lilly. “Can you tell me?”
“He . . .” she managed. “He gave Momma money and Momma left me with him.”
Glory gasped. “He bought you?”
Lilly nodded.
“He bought you from your mother?” Glory’s face grew as red as the ink heart on her neck. “But why would she—” She put trembling fingers over her lips.
Lilly shrugged one shoulder and started to cry.
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” She reached for Lilly again, but Lilly took a step back.
Glory dropped her arms and gave her a weak but sad smile. “It’s all right,” she said. “I understand. You don’t have to let me hug you. As a matter of fact, you don’t have to let anyone hug you, or even touch you. If someone tries, you run away as fast as you can. Then tell me, okay?”
Lilly nodded and blinked back her tears, wondering if she should tell Glory about Merrick hitting her with a whip. Momma always warned her not to tell Daddy when she punished her, or the next time would be worse. If Merrick found out she told Glory he hit her, it might be the same. Lilly took the cloth again and washed the dirt off her arms and legs.
“We need to get you out of that filthy dress,” Glory said. She straightened, went over to a trunk, and lifted the lid. “You can borrow one of Tina’s dresses until the Monday man can get you some of your own. She won’t mind.” She pulled out a simple blue dress with puffy sleeves and a white belt. “This one should work. Do you need help putting it on?”
Lilly shook her head and took the dress. She unbuttoned the collar of the one she was wearing, then stopped and glanced at the tent door. What if someone came in and saw her naked?
“Don’t worry,” Glory said. “Everyone’s headed to the cookhouse for breakfast.”
Lilly gazed up at her and waited.