After July 4th my days fall into a pattern. In the mornings I fix Miss Hagerty’s breakfast, eat my own breakfast with Mom and Dad and Mr. Penny, and check Angel Valentine’s outfit and hairdo as she runs out the door. When I’ve taken care of all my chores, I head for the carnival, and Leila and I spend the entire rest of the day together, even lunchtime. Lunch is always hot dogs and lemonade, which Leila gets for free. Sometimes we run a booth or take tickets or call people to the sideshow. Sometimes we just try to find a cool, quiet place so we can sit and talk.
One day I say to Leila, “Doesn’t it bother you that people pay money to stare at your mother? Doesn’t it bother your mother?”
Leila frowns. “I don’t know, I mean, if that’s how they want to spend their money.…” She trails off. “It’s better than staring and not paying.”
“I guess,” I reply.
“Besides, it’s just an act. Most of the performers in the sideshow are putting on an act, the ones who have learned how to do tricks or to wear special makeup and costumes. It’s people like Chimp Boy and Baby Tess I worry about. People stare at them because of the way they were born. They say they don’t mind, since how else are they going to earn a living? But, I don’t know …”
“People stare at my uncle Adam,” I tell her. “They call him a freak.”
“You really like your uncle, though. I can tell.”
“Yeah. I do. You know what I like best about him? I like how happy he can get. Most people don’t get happy the way Adam does. When Adam is happy he jumps up and down like a little kid. Or he shouts, ‘Happiness!’ ”
Leila grins. “Happiness,” she repeats. She swallows the last of her hot dog bun. “Has he been here yet? I bet he would have fun.”
He hasn’t been to Fred Carmel’s yet because of Nana’s dim view of what she calls circus people, even though technically, Leila and her family are carnival people.
“I bet he would have fun too,” I say.
“Then bring him,” says Leila.
When the time seems right.
The time seems right a few days later. It is Friday morning. I’m finishing up my chores, bringing in the broom from the front porch, when I see Adam come whistling up our walk.
“Happy July eighth, Hattie Owen!” he calls, waving vigorously.
“Hi, Adam!”
“Would Miss Angel Valentine be in residence?” he asks.
He is in an awfully good mood. But why can he never remember that Angel works? Maybe, I think, it’s because Angel’s job reminds him of the great differences between him and Angel. If Adam were a regular person, he’d probably be at work now too.
I decide not to point this out. Instead, I say, “Hey, Adam, would you like to go to the carnival with me?” Somehow walking with Adam all the way across town doesn’t seem scary anymore, especially since Leila will be at the end of our journey, so I won’t be on my own with Adam for long.
“To Fred Carmel’s Funtime Carnival with the midway, prizes, sideshow, and food from many nations?”
“Yes.”
“Right now?”
“Yes. Well, as soon as I’ve talked to Nana. But I think she’ll say we can go.”
Despite her feelings about circus people, Nana seems relieved by the thought of having Adam out of the house for an afternoon. And apparently she trusts us together. She knows I go to the carnival all the time. I get the feeling that Nana doesn’t expect much from Adam except that he stay out of her hair and not embarrass her.
“Have fun!” Nana calls to us as we start down her front walk. Then, “Oh, Adam, wait. Wait right there.” Nana disappears inside. When she returns she presses a ten-dollar bill into Adam’s hand. “Treat yourself and Hattie to lunch and some games,” she says.
I wait until we are out of Nana’s hearing. “You won’t be needing much of that money,” I tell him. “We’re going to get a free lunch. And we can go on rides for free too. We should pay for the games, though. I wouldn’t feel right getting one of those giant prizes for free.”
Adam is looking distracted. “Rides,” he says.
“Yeah, for free. Lunch too.”
“Really?”
“Yup. You haven’t met my friend Leila yet.”
Now I have Adam’s attention.
“Leila? Who’s Leila?”
I tell Adam about Leila and Lamar and the Cahns and their fascinating lives. By the time we reach the carnival, Adam is keyed up. The whirling rides, the smells of cotton candy and French fries, the music from the merry-go-round, and the crowds of people make him even more excited.
“Hattie, Hattie, my old friend, what a splendid place this is!” Adam has hurtled through the entrance to the carnival and is galloping from one attraction to the next. “A bundle of energy in Millerton’s own backyard!” he cries. “Popcorn, peanuts, get yer red hots, red hots, right here. Lucy and Bob Hope and — oh, my, look skyward, Hattie, look skyward!”
I look up but I don’t think I see whatever Adams sees up there. Just a speck of an airplane far away. I hope we can find Leila quickly. I hope I haven’t made a mistake bringing Adam here.
The first place we look for Leila is at the ticket booth for the Ferris wheel, and thank goodness she’s there. When she sees me, she raises her hand and waves. Then she spots Adam and jumps to her feet, pushing Lamar into her seat and saying, “Your turn!”
Leila unties her apron and runs out of the booth. “Hi, Hattie!” she says. “Is this Adam?”
Before I can answer, Adam, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, says, “Upon my word, Leila Cahn, niece of Fred Carmel himself, owner of the wonderful carnival. This is a holiday, a celebration, a reunion of the heavens! Glory, glory!”
“Hi,” says Leila. She is smiling and I know she knows this is Adam. “How about a tour of the carnival? I gave Hattie one.”
Leila doesn’t wait for Adam to answer. She takes him by the hand, and suddenly we are in the world of the carnival. We start with the midway, where Adam uses some of Nana’s money to play games. When he has lost four games in a row I see his body stiffen and his eyes fill with tears. “Not nice, not nice,” he mutters.
“Let’s make spin-art paintings,” says Leila.
So we do. When Adam has evened out, I say to him, “Now how about a ride?”
“Any ride you want for free,” adds Leila.
Adam drops his eyes. “Oh, no. No, thanks. Thank you very much, you are most kind, I am sure, but no rides, thank you.”
“Really? How about the merry-go-round?” asks Leila. “Some of the horses don’t even move up and down. Or you can just sit on a plain bench.”
Adam is still looking at the ground. “Fred it’s impossible to get seasick on a boat that is standing still tell that to my stomach.”
For the first time, Leila looks confused. She glances at me.
“It’s from I Love Lucy,” I say. “I think he memorized all the shows.”
Leila frowns. Then she says, “Do you get seasick, Adam? I mean, do you get motion sick on rides?”
“No.”
Now we are stumped.
“But you don’t want to go on any rides?” I ask.
“I like to watch the Ferris wheel,” says Adam.
“Just watch it?”
“Yes.”
So we stand outside the booth, where Lamar is taking tickets, and we watch the Ferris wheel turn slowly round and round above the carnival.
Finally Adam says, “I’m a little hungry, you know. My stomach is talking to me.”
“Then let’s get lunch,” says Leila.
We sit at a table in the shade with our hot dogs and lemonade. Adam is still very quiet. He eats while Leila and I talk about books. Leila likes to read as much as I do, but she has never had a library card since her family never stays in one place for very long.
“How do you get books, then?” I ask her.
“We buy them at flea markets and rummage sales. And my aunt Dot always sends me books on my birthday.”
“Hattie’s birthday is coming up,” says Adam.
“Oh, really? When?”
Adam comes to life. “On July sixteenth, Leila Cahn! July sixteenth. One week from tomorrow.”
“Cool,” says Leila. “I’ll still be here. We can celebrate your birthday, Hattie.”
Adam jumps up. “Leila, Leila! I have an idea. Come here.”
Adam is not subtle.
I grin as I watch him pull Leila a little distance away from our table. He talks excitedly to her. His hands flap, and he begins to bounce up and down. And when they return a few minutes later, Adam is saying, “It’s a mind trick, Leila, Leila, a mind trick, I tell you. A trick of the mind. Monday is the day you were born all right. Ask your parents. How about another date? Give me another date, a date of your choosing.”
Leila obliges, smiling.
Later that afternoon I drop Adam off at Nana and Papa’s.
“We ate hot dogs,” Adam tells his mother, “and we watched the Ferris wheel but we didn’t go on it, and we played games but we didn’t win anything, and Leila is kind, kind, very kind. She goes to correspondence school. Oh, and a man didn’t guess my weight, so I got this.” Adam pulls a tiny jackknife out of his pocket.
Nana’s smile fades. “Please give me that, Adam,” she says. Adam hands it to her. “This is going to be one of those things you may keep but not touch. We’ll put it in the case in the living room.”
Adam stomps away from his mother.
Nana shakes her head. “I guess I don’t expect you to know any better,” she says to me. “And the circus people don’t know Adam, of course, but still …”
Behind her, Adam sticks his tongue out at Nana as he starts up the stairs. And I turn my back on her and leave.