“We thought we could handle it,” the third brother said.
“Well, working without an animal handler was your first mistake. Your second and biggest mistake was trying to do anything with two stallions. Someone could have been killed.”
“We didn’t know they were stallions,” the third brother said.
“Obviously,” Cole said. “Next time, get permission from the equestrian director and he’ll have a trainer help you. I don’t want you or the zebras getting hurt.” Lilly could tell he was angry, but in pure Cole fashion, he still tried to be nice.
The wavy-haired brother jerked his chin at Lilly. “Maybe we should get her to help.”
Lilly’s eyes went wide. “Me? Why?”
“Because in my twenty-plus years in the circus,” he said, “I’ve never seen an animal react to anyone like that zebra reacted to you.”
Cole looked at her. “He’s right,” he said. “And a stallion no less. Most people have no idea how dangerous they can be. My father made sure I respected stallions by telling me about a woman who had her throat ripped out by one. She died on the spot. And you walked up to that one like you were walking up to a puppy.”
Lilly shrugged. “Guess it was a good thing I didn’t know any better then.”
“Who knows what might have happened if you hadn’t distracted him,” the wavy-haired acrobat said. “And Mr. Barlow would’ve murdered us if he got away.” He held his hand out to Lilly. “Thanks for your help.”
Lilly smiled and shook it. “You’re welcome,” she said.
*
Later that night, after everyone was asleep, Lilly pulled her hair into a messy bun on top of her head and put on a shirtwaist dress with short sleeves. She grabbed a pair of sandals, snuck out of the sleeper car, and looked up and down the train, stretched out a half mile on each side of her car, to make sure no one was watching. Some of the car windows were open, and on the lot, tent sidewalls were rolled up. Roustabouts and workers slept on the ground outside, trying to stay cool. Somewhere a waltz played, tinny and haunting. A warm breeze caressed her bare arms, and a fine sheen of sweat broke out on her forehead as she hurried over to the menagerie. She wasn’t sure if it was from heat or excitement.
When she entered the animal tent, the elephant stalls were empty and Cole was nowhere to be found. She slipped beneath the back wall and looked around. Beyond a line of trees in the distance, a gabled barn sat high on a hill, moonlight glinting off its metal roof, giving the illusion that it was covered with snow. Cole said he was taking the bulls to a farm pond, so she walked toward the barn. When she got closer to the line of trees, a small light flickered amid a gathering of bulky shadows moving slowly near the edge of the field.
The elephants.
“Cole?” she called as loud as she dared.
“Over here,” he said.
She hurried toward his voice, walking as fast as she could in the moonlit dark. When she tripped over a clump of grass, a memory flashed in her mind—her very first time outside, following her mother across the field toward the circus, with no idea where she was going or that her life was about to change forever. This time, though, she knew exactly where she was going. She found her footing and shook her head to clear it. She didn’t want to think about unhappy things right now. And besides, thinking about her past wouldn’t change her future. There was nowhere she’d rather be than with Cole and the elephants.
Using their trunks, Pepper and Petunia and Flossie pulled bark and branches and leaves from the trees and shoved them in their mouths, making low, contented noises in their throats and munching loudly. JoJo, despite the fact that he was bigger than his mother, ran clumsy circles around them, delighted by his first taste of freedom. Cole waited inside the trees.
“I thought we were meeting at the tent?” she said.
“I wasn’t sure if you were coming. Besides, I knew you’d find us.”
“I told you I was coming.”
“You did? I didn’t know if that was you, or my cousin Ferdinand.”
She punched him playfully on the shoulder. “Haha. Very funny. Okay, enough teasing. Where’s the pond?”
He laughed and led her along the tree line toward a wide gate leading into another field. The elephants followed. He picked the padlock, unwrapped the chain, and opened the gate. “After we’re all through, close it behind us,” he said to her. “And there were cows in this field earlier, so be careful where you step.”
He went through the gate and the elephants trailed behind him. Flossie first, followed by Pepper, JoJo, and Petunia. As their massive, dark bodies lumbered past Lilly, just feet away from where she stood—their tree-trunk-sized legs moving slowly but surely, their long, tufted tails swaying back and forth, their big floppy ears fanning—tears filled her eyes and her heart cramped in her chest. Even after six years of spending time with them nearly every day, she was still amazed by their size and beauty. And tonight there were no chains around their legs, no ropes or walls keeping them in. It seemed as though she were witnessing a parade of gods, reluctant to share their worldly secrets with her because she didn’t deserve to know.
When all the elephants were clear of the gate, she pushed it closed, then sprinted to catch up with Cole. In the distance, moonlight reflected off the farm pond’s smooth surface, making it look like glass. The elephants snorted and grunted and rumbled as they walked, their giant legs swishing through the long grass, their platter-sized feet thumping the earth.
“What do you suppose they’re saying to each other?” she said.
“I think they’re enjoying this,” he said. “They seem curious and happy, but maybe a little on edge too.”
“But they trust you.”
“They trust you too.”
“You think so?”
“Yes, you have a way with them. I’ve always thought so. But I’m beginning to think you have a way with all animals, especially after what you did with that zebra.”
She smiled. The idea made her happy.
When they were far enough away that no one could see them from the train, Cole turned up the flame in the lantern and led the elephants and Lilly over a slight berm, down to the edge of the farm pond surrounded by grass, cattails, and areas of flat rock. Beyond the pond, the land rose enough to hide them from anyone who might be looking out the farmhouse windows.
“Are you sure it’s safe?” she asked.