Free Bringing Ezra Back by Cynthia DeFelice

thinking.
    Little Miss Mary piped up, “Ornery?”
    â€œNo, I was about to say feisty, ” answered Edson. “Or perhaps outspoken. Never would I call such a lovely lady as you ornery. ”
    â€œWhy, thank you, Calvin. May I say it’s a pleasure to pass the time of day with a true gentleman such as yourself.” She giggled again and moved her eyelashes up and down at Edson. “Seeing as we’re so suited to each other, how about we get married? The Trasks could charge admission to the ceremony. What a ‘curiosity’ that would be! And our children! Why, Lovey and Hiram could make a bundle. What do you say, Calvin, shall you and I get married?”
    Little Miss Mary enjoyed her joke so much she fell into a laughing fit, and Calvin Edson had to pat her back to keep her from choking. When she’d recovered herself, she looked me over and said, “So, young man. Did you come searching for a job? World’s Dirtiest Boy, perhaps? I’m afraid the position of wild savage is already taken.”
    She stared at me and waited for my answer. I’d never heard a voice quite like hers. It was pitched high, the same as her laugh, and sounded little, somehow, like the rest of her. I didn’t quite know how to take her. Truth to tell, I found her frightening, though I couldn’t have said just why. She was laughing fit to die, but she seemed angry about something, instead of happy, which made me wonder if she was in her right mind.
    I didn’t have time to think about it just then. “I—I’m looking for somebody,” I said. “A friend. I think he might be the savage you’re talking about. The one you call the White Injun. Is he here?”
    Calvin Edson and Little Miss Mary stared at me like maybe I was on display in a show.
    â€œYou say you’re his friend?” Calvin Edson asked after a minute had gone by with them both looking at me, their eyes and mouths wide open.
    â€œYes,” I said.
    Miss Mary and Edson glanced at each other, and I could have sworn something passed between them, though I was puzzled as to what it might be.
    I tried again. “Is he here?” I asked.
    â€œYou say you’re looking for the White Injun?” Edson said slowly.
    â€œIt’s what you folks call him, anyhow,” I said. “His real name’s Ezra Ketcham, and he ain’t an Indian or a savage, either.”
    â€œYou’ll have to talk to the Trasks,” Miss Mary said. Her lips were set in a straight line. She appeared to have sobered up right quick.
    â€œThey’re the folks who own the show?” I asked.
    â€œThat’s their wagon,” she said, pointing. “And listen here. Don’t tell them you talked to us, understand?”
    I shrugged. “Sure,” I agreed. “If you say so.” I started to walk away. Then I turned back and said, “Ezra—he is here, right?”
    â€œAsk the Trasks,” said Miss Mary. She was hopping down off the back of the wagon as she spoke, which was a pretty far ways for someone as little as she was. Edson put his feet down and stood up, and they both hurried off and disappeared behind one of the other wagons. It struck me as mighty peculiar behavior.
    There didn’t seem to be anything to do but find the Trasks. I headed toward the wagon Miss Mary had pointed out, and heard voices coming from inside. I wasn’t exactly trying to listen in on somebody else’s talk, but I couldn’t help it.
    â€œSoon as we get back to South Carolina for the winter, I say we buy us a new act, something folks out here can’t even imagine. If we could find one as good as the Injun, we could get rid of some of the others.”
    There was some mumbling I couldn’t understand, then the same voice, which sounded like a woman’s, answered back.
    â€œBy next season, or the next, people will be tired of fat ladies, skinny men, and midgets. We need something