“Oh.” I looked at the others, feeling foolish. Mr. Ginger and Miss Lightfoot glanced at each other and smiled. I hoped they weren’t laughing at me. The children slumped against one another like tired puppies.
“That’s a good idea, Apollo,” I said.
He rolled his eyes.
Minnie tugged at my sleeve. “The bone man’s coming,” she whispered.
I stroked her curls. “Don’t worry, Minnie. We’ll keep ahead of him.” I hoped I was right.
Apollo hustled Minnie and Willie up to the hayloft to settle down for the night. Bertha and Moses went along to help, they said, but I could see they were exhausted. No one returned.
Tauseret lay down and closed her eyes.
“Are you well?” I asked.
“Tired,” she answered faintly.
For a while I talked with Miss Lightfoot and Mr. Ginger on how we would present a show, but I glanced repeatedly at Tauseret.
“Do you think she’ll be all right?” I whispered. “That’s the first food she’s eaten in centuries.”
Miss Lightfoot patted my hand. “If she’s lasted this long, I doubt a few scraps of chicken will hurt her.”
“She’s a miracle,” said Mr. Ginger. “I’m not sure miracles get sick.”
Soon Mr. Ginger’s eyes grew as droopy as those of his twin, and he excused himself to one of the stalls. That left Miss Lightfoot, applying cream to her cracked arms.
I fetched my jacket from the baggage piled near the wagon, and pulled out the documents in my inner pocket. I handed them to the alligator woman.
“What are these, sugar pie?” she asked.
“The legal papers for the children,” I replied. “See who is named guardian.” I opened the first document and pointed to her name.
Her eyes widened. “Land sakes!”
“Did you not know?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Honey love, my parents were too embarrassed to send me to school. I can’t read nor write. I can barely sign my name, and it was Mr. Ginger who taught me that.”
“What did Mink tell you when you signed the papers?” I asked.
“He said I was the witness. ‘Shut up and sign where I point,’ he told me. Usually a lawyer came, but I rarely saw any parents. I expect many of the documents are forged.”
“Why make you guardian?”
“I don’t know that I can speak for that devious little man,” Miss Lightfoot replied. “But he doesn’t always go by the name Lazarus Mink. Perhaps he used mine because he believed he could always produce me as his dupe.” She looked away from me. I wondered if she was hiding tears.
“I suppose it may have reassured parents that a lady would be responsible for their child,” I said.
“I’m not sure people who sell their children need reassurance,” she answered.
I remembered her situation and fell silent.
“I’ll excuse myself now,” she said, and took one of the two lanterns and left for the stall that she’d named her boudoir.
How relieved I was that Miss Lightfoot was innocent of all collusion. I had no doubt now that we were all united in our quest for safety. Everything had to turn out right. All I had to do was get everyone back to my home.
I leaned against the trough in the pool of lantern light, too exhausted to move. Out in the darkness were the snores of the sleepers and the rustle of mice in the hay; beyond those sounds were miles and miles of unknown. Home still seemed a long ways away.