Previously in this book: Harley Sadler has fulfilled his dream of owning his own traveling tent show. His fans adore him. His daughter Gloria is beautiful and talented. But his wife Billie is drinking more because Harley’s dream is not really her dream.
Around midnight the show ended. Every actor had exhibited his special talents during the vaudeville sections; the audience had its chance to win a dream-of-a-lifetime prize, or at least get to eat Cracker Jake; the melodrama played out to everyone’s satisfaction. Curses, the villain failed again. The hero rescued the heroine, they vowed to marry and live happily ever after. Toby and Susie Belle walked off, hand in hand, into the sunset with Toby still too shy even to peck Susie on the cheek.
A photographer from the Comanche Daily News sneaked into the back stage area and approached Billie as she headed to her dressing room.
“Mrs. Sadler,” he politely began, “I’m with the Comanche newspaper. Would you mind if I took your picture for our next edition?”
Looking a bit taken aback, Billie finally regained her composure and smiled graciously. “Why, of course, but after I get out of costume, if you please.”
“Oh, that’s all right,” he cajoled her. “Our readers would love to see you in costume. They talked for weeks last year when I got a picture of Mr. Sadler dressed as Toby—“
She firmly but politely cut him off. “I prefer to be out of costume for photographs.”
“Oh. Yes, ma’am.” He dropped the camera to his side and stepped backwards. “Of course. I’ll wait outside.”
In the men’s dressing room, Sam and the other actors finished tying their shoes and buttoning their shirts before leaving for the hotel. Charlie Meyers, an older undistinguished gentleman who took pride in keeping the traveling tent show company from sinking into a red morass of bills, entered with a nervous local farmer in tow. Harley, still engrossed in removing his makeup, did not realize that they had entered and were approaching over to his table.
“Harley,” Charlie announced in a flat voice, “there’s someone here that insisted on seeing you.”
He looked up, smiled and recognized the farmer. Harley jumped up to shake his hand. Harley looked rather odd, since only half his face makeup had been removed. The farmer didn’t seem to notice.
“Why, of course, I’ll see ol’ Bill Stone. How’s it goin’, Bill?”
“Not so good, Harley.” He barely spoke above a whisper. “My barn burnt down last week.”
“I hate to hear that.” His brow wrinkled in concern. “Nobody got hurt, did they? Edith and the boys are all right, aren’t they?”
“They’re fine. And we got all the livestock out so no loss there, but—“
“Hit you pretty hard, huh?” Harley did not have to hear anymore. He nodded at Charlie who rolled his eyes. Harley smiled and put his arm around Bill’s shoulder, guiding him through the tent flap into another area where Charlie’s bookkeeping desk was set up. Charlie trudged behind and then plopped into his chair.
“Cash flow’s tight this month,” he announced.
“How much do you think it would take to replace your barn, Bill?” Harley chose to ignore Charlie and focused instead on the desperate farmer.
”Gosh, I don’t know, Harley.” He ran his fingers through his thinning hair.
“One night’s take would handle it, wouldn’t you think, Charlie?”
“One night’s take!” Charlie’s mouth fell open.
“Yeah, I think that’s what we’ll do. Our last night here will be a benefit for your barn. That’ll give us time to get the word out to all your friends and neighbors.”
Bill pumped Harley’s hand. “Thank you, Harley. Thank you! And—and I’ll pay back every cent of it! I swear!”
“Why, Bill, there’s nothing for you to pay back.” Harley looked away and blushed. “This is a benefit. All your friends and neighbors are going to be giving you the money.”
Bill stepped closer to stare earnestly. “I mean you, Harley. What can I do for you?”
Harley shifted uncomfortably on one foot to the other, and then walked Bill to the tent opening. “Just be my friend, Bill, be my friend. And laugh extra hard at me the next time we come through town. Deal?”
Before Bill could reply Harley turned back to the dressing room. “Give my best to the boys and Edith.”
“Sure will.” Bill smiled and left the tent.
Harley took his seat and resumed removing his makeup. Charlie marched in for a confrontation.
“And what are we going to do when we lose a whole night’s receipts?”
“Let’s say,” Harley began slowly, collecting his thoughts, “half the cast came down awful sick and we had to cancel that performance. We’d still lose the gate, wouldn’t we?”
“There’s only one person sick in this room,” Charlie retorted, “And that’s you—sick in the head.”
Harley laughed because he knew Charlie really did not mean it. “Well, I’ve always believed if you do good things for people, good things will happen to you.”
The next morning Harley and Billie took Gloria and Grandma Lou to the train station. Sam, Faye and Louise joined them to say good-bye.
“It’s time for us to get on the train, Gloria,” Lou announced. She tenderly put Gloria’s hat on her head. Patting her granddaughter’s little face, she signed, “Oh, if only your grandfather had lived long enough to see how pretty you are.”
“Give mama a big kiss,” Billie said.
Gloria rushed to her mother and covered her face with lots of tiny kisses. Billie began to cry.
“Don’t cry, Mama. I’m just going to school. Mama Lou will take good care of me. She always does.”
“Of course she does,” Harley agreed.
“It’s just I’m going to miss you so much.” Billie’s voice sounded tiny and afraid.
“I’m going to miss you too, Mama.” Gloria sobered a moment but then brightened. “I’ve got an idea. I’ll give you this hanky. Mama Lou sewed my name on it.” She pulled it from her purse. “See? Gloria. In real pretty letters. You can look at it and pretend I just whizzed through the dressing room and dropped it.”
Gloria handed her mother the hanky which Billie held to her cheek.
“Thank you darling.”
“And you can give me your scarf. I’ll sleep with it tonight and when I smell your perfume on it I’ll pretend you’re in bed next to me.”
Billie gave the scarf to Gloria who sniffed it and smiled. “Oh good. You’re wearing my favorite.”
Louise stepped forward. “Good-bye, Gloria. It was fun playing with you this summer.”
“I had a good time too. Your grandmother is coming to pick you up tomorrow, right?”
“Yes.” She nodded.
“Don’t be sad. Think of next summer and all the fun we’ll have.”
“How about a hug for your daddy?” Harley tried hard to ignore a lump rising in his throat.
Gloria turned to him, the brightest smile in the universe beaming toward him. Extending her arms, she raced to him as though they had not seen each other in years. She leapt into his arms, and Harley swung her around, her feet almost horizontal to the depot loading dock.
“Do you love me and adore me?” Gloria’s eyes twinkled, anticipating the response she had heard all her life.
“I worship and adore you.” Harley’s voice contained no traces of Toby’s comic naiveté nor any excitement of a professional circus barker.
Gloria leaned in to whisper in her father’s ear. “I love you too, Daddy. Please take care of Mama.”
“I will.”
The conductor announced for the last time, “All aboard for Sweetwater!”
Gloria and Lou climbed the steps to the passenger car, turned and waved as the train pulled out of the station. Billie continued to stare at the handkerchief with the name Gloria embroidered in a corner.
Looking around distractedly, she mumbled, “I-I think I want to go for a ride into the country, to clear my head.”
“All right, dear.” Harley tenderly put his hands on her shoulders. “Let me get the car and—“
“No,” she interrupted, “I need some time to myself, if you don’t mind.”
“I understand.” He knew what she meant, but he could not say honestly that he understood.
She smiled and pointed down the street. “And there’s a taxi. I—I promise I won’t run up a too big fare. Good-bye.” Billie hurried off down the street to the awaiting taxi. After getting in the back seat Billie leaned forward for a brief conversation with the driver. He nodded and bent over to pick up a brown paper bag which appeared to hold a bottle. She handed some bills to him, and he started the taxi’s engine. Billie looked out the car window, and Harley was certain they made eye contact.
The group at the train station watch the taxi drive away. Harley had a sad resigned look on his face.
“You know why she took that taxi,” Faye asked in her best Baptist judgmental tone.
“Faye, it’s none of our business,” Sam said.
“That’s all right, Sam. I don’t think Billie believes she’s fooling anybody.”
“She’s getting worse,” Faye warned.
Harley shook his head and smiled sadly. “Well, I said once I could live with it. I guess I have to.”