Freaks: Alive, on the Inside!

“I beg to differ,” countered Miss Lightfoot, and swept to where I had laid the legal papers. “I think you will find that I, Ruby Lightfoot, late of Poeville, South Carolina, am the legal guardian of these dear children and am sworn to protect them from evil men such as Dr. Mink.” She handed the papers to the sheriff with a flourish.

“Well, well,” said the sheriff. “I will suggest, then, that Dr. Mink pull foot before I arrest him for wasting the law’s time.”

“I’m very, very sorry,” I professed to Mr. Webster when the sheriff was gone. “We didn’t mean to put you to this inconvenience.”

“Now you know why we are leaving this business,” added Miss Lightfoot. “We want no more truck with vermin like Dr. Mink.”

Mrs. Webster shivered. “He must be a bad egg, that one,” she said. “Bearing false witness. Kidnapping children. As savage as a meat ax, indeed. Come on, chickadees, let these good people go back to their rest. My, my, you poor dears.” She hustled her children off, and I didn’t know whom she considered the “poor dears,” them or us.

“Did Mink say how he found us?” I asked Mr. Webster.

“Heard one of the neighbors who was at the tavern up in town boast about the show,” said Mr. Webster. “Went straight to the sheriff. Banged on his door until he got out of bed.” Mr. Webster shook his head and left.

“They’re all gone,” Willie called down from where he perched like a squirrel on the ledge of an air vent.

“Did you see Billy Sweet or Bonfiglio out there?” I asked. Mink may have stayed at the sheriff’s office, but it would be like him to set a tail on the lawman.

“No, just the sheriff and the Websters.”

“Maybe they split up to search for us,” said Mr. Ginger.

“Maybe they are guarding what is left of Mink’s show,” said Miss Lightfoot.

Wherever they were, I had a horrible feeling that they would be here soon. Mink had tried bluffing with the law and it hadn’t worked, but he wouldn’t give up easily. We hadn’t seen the last of him.

I’d had enough for that night, however. I now wanted nothing but sleep.

Miss Lightfoot must have seen the exhaustion on my face. “You take the far stall, Abel,” she said. “I’ll keep this lady company.”

I might have been put out if I’d had an ounce of energy, but Tauseret acted unperturbed. “Take your rest,” she said. “You will need it.”

I wasn’t quite sure what she meant, but I was quite content to drift off to sleep in the scratchy hay, imagining.

In the morning Tauseret greeted me warmly as I woke. “Welcome to the day, my love. It waits for you.”

She leaned over me, her dark hair tumbling around her lovely face, her full breasts threatening to escape the neckline of her cotton chemise. I blinked and wiped the grit from the corners of

my eyes.

“We must touch often,” she whispered, and tumbled down beside me, enfolding me in her arms. “I am afraid if we don’t, I will shrivel again.”

“You needn’t worry,” I said, trying not to breathe in her face. “I will endeavor to touch you as much as possible, I promise— after I have washed.” What would the others think if we were found in this embrace in broad daylight? I extricated myself from her arms and sat up. “How go the messages to our rescuers?” I added to distract her.

“I haven’t been able to enter Lillie’s dreams,” said Tauseret. She leaned back on her elbows and watched me brush the hay from my clothes, a slight frown on her beautiful features. “I don’t think she sleeps.”

“Perhaps you put her off sleep,” I said.

“Or she is traveling,” Tauseret answered, looking triumphant.

I chuckled. How wonderful it must be to be so sure of oneself. “Well, I hope Mr. Northstar came back before she left and she told him where I went.”

Tauseret raised her eyebrows in question.

“That is Willie’s father,” I told her. “Remember, Mink stole Willie, too. We sure could use Mr. Northstar’s help.”

Tauseret spat out a puff of air. “Then, I will try harder. The clown still hears me and raves to the world about it,” she added, and grinned.

It wasn’t a mean-spirited clown or a lady of the night I counted on, however. It was the colonel. Could he find us before we came to Toms Junction, wherever that was, or would Mink and his bullyboys corner us first? I bit my lip. Did I set my hopes on pure fantasy?