Laughter didn’t come easy following the death of my parents and Julian. And when I did laugh, it was fleeting. In that moment I felt light, and at ease, but the second I stopped, I felt remorse for being happy.
I knew I had to continue with life. I could imagine Momma telling me I was doing myself no favors by living in my pain. But the way I saw it, existing with my pain kept their memory alive. No one understood my way of thinking better than Rainey. She would talk about her daddy when she needed to, and I would speak of my parents and Julian. We spoke of good memories. Nothing sad. Good memories inevitably led to humor and laughter. I didn’t know where sadness would lead to, and I was afraid to find out.
“I bet if Étienne does sleep it’s with his eyes open, and his fingers wrapped around a pen. So he can continue writin’ contracts,” Rainey said between bouts of laughter.
“But of course. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has another desk in his bedroom rather than a bed. He doesn’t miss a minute of work.”
Our laughter carried on for several seconds before I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. If we didn’t hurry, we would miss our window of opportunity.
I straightened and tried my best to gather my composure. “All right. All right. We must focus. It won’t be dark forever.”
“You’re right. Give me your hand,” my best friend demanded.
Hesitantly, I looked at Rainey. She held her hand out expectantly and waited. I took her hand and together, we slipped out of my room and scurried down the hall.
It was well after dinner. The servants were either in their rooms or quietly cleaning in the kitchen. Nevertheless, we made sure to keep our steps feather-light as we walked down the marble steps. Once we reached the first floor, we looked at one another, eyes wide in victory and rushed to the front door.
Outside, it was pitch black. Rainey and I gripped the porch railing and carefully stepped down before we felt the gravel beneath our feet.
We stood on the circular drive, debating which direction we should go with only the cicadas to keep us company, when at last, my eyes adjusted to the dark. I tugged on Rainey’s hand and moved to the left. “This way.”
Every evening, the family driver Warren stayed until eight, cleaning the Ford Model-C, making sure the car was spotless for the next morning. If by chance he wasn’t here, we couldn’t go to Charleston tonight. Of course, we could take our bikes. But that would take far longer. By the time we arrived, we’d be too exhausted and would have to be on our way back to Belgrave before anyone ever knew we were gone.
We approached the newly-built carport. The doors were pushed open and an oil lamp was lit inside. The smell of dirt and oil greeted us as we walked inside.
“Warren!” I said in a hushed whisper.
He didn’t hear me and continued to hum the tune under his breath as he wiped down the Ford.
Rainey rolled her eyes. “Nat, louder. Like this,” she took a deep breath, and shouted, “Warren!”
I would not be surprised if residents, the next town over, heard Rainey’s yell. Immediately, Warren dropped the rag and stood up straight. When he turned to face us, he was clutching his chest.
The two of us came to a halt and didn’t come in any farther. “Sorry to frighten you, sir,” Rainey said with an apologetic smile.
Warren looked between the two of us with confusion. “My goodness, girls. What brings the two of you out here at this time?”
There was a slight pause. I felt Rainey’s gaze on me. I knew she was waiting for me to explain. This was part of the arrangement. I was to do all the talking. Rainey wasn’t precisely known for her restraint with words. Rather, she was the brains behind the entire plan.
“So, you see,” I continued, “Because Rainey and I have never been to the carnival, my brother thought it would be nice if we went before it closed down and left town.”
“Will Mr. Lacroix be goin’ with the two of you?”
I looked to Rainey and found her staring at me meaningfully. “N-no. He has work to attend to. He sent us on our way and told us to be back at a reasonable time.”
Warren narrowed his gaze. I knew it was only a matter of time before he suspected something was amiss.
Sighing, he gave the freshly cleaned Ford a forlorn expression before he said, “Where to Miss Lacroix?”
“Charleston, Warren,” Rainey supplied, unable to stop herself. “We have ourselves a carnival to go to.”
“We’ll walk the rest of the way from here,” Rainey told a dubious Warren.
I stood on the relatively quiet King Street. Most people were asleep, and if they weren’t, they were already at the carnival. If I paid no mind to the loud idle of the car or the chorus of the cicadas, I could hear the distant sound of laughter and voices coming from the carnival.
Anxiously, I moved from foot to foot as I waited for Warren’s reply. He wanted to object to our request because even he could see the error of Rainey and I walking through town at night without a chaperone.
“We will only be gone for thirty minutes,” I blurted.
With a broad smile, Rainey anxiously nodded.
Warren sighed and turned the car off. “All right then. I’ll be right here.”
Rainey nearly danced with glee as the two of us took off toward the carnival. Our arms were linked together as we walked to Hampton Park. The land was downtown and linked together by Calhoun, Meeting and King Street. Adjacent from the park was The Citadel, a military college.
As we approached Hampton Park, there was a banner with the words, WELCOME, over the entrance. Inside the park, I tightened my grip on Rainey. “Remember we stay together,” I stressed.
“I know, I know,” Rainey readily replied.
We passed a ticket booth that was directly inside, near the entrance. A long line snaked back toward the entrance while a frazzled young man gave people their tickets.
Rainey and I moved deeper into the carnival and the hum of excitement began to fill me. Perhaps this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
The smell of popcorn and candy apples greeted my nose. Off in the distance I saw a Ferris wheel slowly circulating high above the ground. “That looks magnificent!” Rainey declared.
I swallowed, and merely nodded. The Ferris wheel was beautiful from afar, but I didn’t think I had enough courage to step onto it. I preferred the carousel up ahead to the right. The circular platform slowly rotated. People, although they were mostly children, sat on the carved animals such as lions, giraffes, horses, goats, and camels. Chariots are interspersed throughout. Each animal and scenery panel were beautifully painted in rich vibrant colors. A band organ, as ornate as the carousel, played music loud enough to be heard over the crowds.
Children ran past us, laughing with glee. Conversations were far louder than necessary, but it was of no concern. The lack of moderation applied to social barriers and restrictions everyone daily carried with them, making each person lighter. I still took the time to search the crowd to see if there was anyone that might recognize Rainey and I, but I didn’t see anyone.
To my left, there was a bioscope show. The traveling cinema had a sign above the tent. COWBOYS AND INDIANS: LIFE IN THE WILD WEST. I would love to go in there, but I knew Rainey would become disinterested within minutes.
There was a booth for a ring toss. There was another game where milk bottles were stacked and you had to throw baseballs to knock it down. A simpler game was in the booth beside that one. The string pull guaranteed that you won a prize every time. The two of us passed tent after tent, and game after game, but Rainey only had one thing in mind. We continued to walk until the crowd thinned out and the tents became sparser. The waft of popcorn didn’t reach this far back. I looked over my shoulder at where the festivities continued.