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“Why on earth would you do that? You didn’t know where I was going.”
“Why should you get all the fun?” he answered. He knit his furry brow. “Abel, how could you leave me behind with him?”
“Where’s this note from Phoebe?” I asked gruffly. It wasn’t my fault that his father beat him.
He rummaged inside his shirt and shoved a fist at me. I retrieved a crumpled, sticky envelope from his grasp. It was too dark to read, so I put the letter in my hip pocket for the morning.
“You know, Phoebe won’t be happy you’re making eyes at that trapeze girl,” Apollo said.
“But you’re happy to be here meddling in my business,” I complained.
“Yes, I’m glad I came,” said Apollo, sticking out his chest. “I wouldn’t have met Rosie if I hadn’t. Isn’t she grand?” He waved a hairy arm toward the nearest stall, where an interested eye surrounded by gray wrinkles peered out from between the slats. My eyebrows shot up. “You’re the one who takes the elephants for walks?”
“Aren’t they lovely?” Apollo said, and sighed.
“How could you not get caught?” I asked.
“Oh, it’s surprising what you can do when everyone is busy,” he said.
I thought of asylums and beatings, and that made me so scared I yelled, “Do you know what they’ll do if they catch you?” The elephant snorted.
“I don’t want to be sent home,” wailed Apollo. He didn’t understand. “It’s wonderful here! I love the animals—they’re so friendly! I had no idea.”
I tried to calm down. “How have you fed yourself?”
Apollo’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Oh, that’s easy. There’s hampers of fruit and vegetables all over the place—for the animals—and I raid the cookhouse when no one’s looking.”
“You’re the escaped monkey!” I didn’t know whether to scold him or laugh.
Apollo frowned. “I am not a monkey!”
I didn’t argue the point. “Have you been making my bed and leaving me fruit?”
He nodded and grinned. “I wanted to look after you.” I groaned. “What am I to do with you?”
“You can’t let them send me home,” Apollo insisted. “You need me. What if I hadn’t been here to grab you?”
We settled down in the pungent hay beside the food bin at the far end of the car. “There’s supposed to be men here,” Apollo said, “but they socialize a lot. They must be jolly sorts. They always talk about smiling with their friends.”
I hadn’t the heart to tell him that smile was another word for drink.
Apollo produced a torn and stained rag of a blanket from behind the bin and offered it to me, but I eyed the unknown hairs on it and shook my head. “Too warm,” I said.
What am I to do? I wondered as I fidgeted in the prickly straw. I couldn’t take him home; how would I explain my absence to the Marvels? I’d lose my job, and why should I have to give up my quest for Lady Adventure?
Apollo had to leave this place—who could tell what might happen if he was discovered?—but if I wired the colonel, he would probably make me come home too. Could I put Apollo on a train and hope he stayed on it until he got home? Could I even afford the fare? I would be furious if I had to take him back myself. If I took Apollo back, could I deposit him at the door and leave again without being caught? Damn the dog boy’s father. If he weren’t such a scoundrel, Apollo would have stayed at home and I wouldn’t have this problem.
“How am I supposed to keep you hidden?” I grumbled. “They don’t take kindly to deadheads around here.” How could I tell him they would consider him less than human? Despite his father’s temper, he had been brought up to believe himself one of God’s children, with a rightful place in the world. I prayed that I could get him away from here before he learned anything different.
Apollo laughed. “I’ve done a good job of it this far, haven’t I? There’s lots of places to hide, like the storage boxes under some of the cars. They call them possum bellies. Isn’t that a caution? And there’s a crawl space over the ceiling of this very car, with a trapdoor I use to get on the roof. It’s fun to ride up there.”
I sat up. “The train roof! Are you plumb crazy?” I remembered the hint of a face I’d seen at my window that first night. I had thought it was a dream.
Apollo inflated with outrage. “I practiced with the acrobats back home; I’ve got great balance. Maybe that will be my act.”
“Your act?” What was he blithering about?
Enthusiasm replaced his indignation. “Yes. I’ve been staying out of sight until I figure out what my act is. As soon as I show them all how clever I am, they’re bound to let me stay.”
