In Search of a Memory (Truly Yours Digital Editions) by Pamela Griffin Page B
Authors: Pamela Griffin
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an almost-constant desire to be with her?
Curbing a groan, he held the tent flap aside and allowed her to enter Chester’s tent ahead of him.
Chester offered them both an abrupt nod in greeting, his jaw tense. Angel had never seen the affable man look so sullen. She considered asking if everything was all right between him and Cassie but decided not to interfere. She didn’t know him well enough to invite confidences.
“Hope we aren’t intruding,” Roland said.
Chester shrugged, the smile he offered grim. “What can I do for you two?”
Angel told him about her need for a stool, and he readily complied.
“Sure, I can let one go.” He moved to a wooden counter where three stools sat in front of what looked like a miniature circus, smaller than a dollhouse. Tiny striped tents and banners stood erected on a platform. A model of a Ferris wheel, half the size of her hand, stood to the side.
Fascinated, Angel drew near. “Did you make this?”
“Sure did.” A bit of tension drained from his voice.
“It’s very good. There’s so much detail.” She sensed Roland draw closer, though he maintained his distance.
“As long as you’re both here, why don’t I give you that free show? I haven’t much else to do, so come see my little beauties.” His manner undergoing a complete roundabout, Chester looked beyond Angel’s shoulder with a grin. “Come on, Roland, my man. Step right up. Don’t be shy.” He moved to retrieve a cigar box and carefully slid back the lid.
Angel heard Roland’s footsteps rustle nearer in the grass.
Chester put something from his hand onto the small carnival layout. He looked up again.
“You’ll have to come closer. These human fleas are small. You’ll need to look at them through the special Fresnel lens I have.”
Angel inhaled softly as she felt Roland’s warmth at her back, though no part of him touched her. She struggled to concentrate on what Chester said as he showed each of his fleas’ amazing tricks. One appeared to lift a set of barbells, another to pull a wagon. A third to dance. Another flea moved the Ferris wheel by walking atop it.
“That is amazing,” she said, genuinely impressed. “You called them names, but how do you tell them apart?”
“Waltzing Matilda is faster than the others. Slow Moe at the wheel, well, his name tells it all. Each of them has a different personality or characteristic.”
She bent over the lens again. “They’re so tiny! What do they eat?”
“They don’t call them human fleas for nothing.”
She straightened. “Wha—oh.”
“Yeah, Cassie had that same horrified look in her eyes when she found out. Ever been bit by a mosquito? Dozens at once? Not much different, except I know my beauties haven’t any diseases, since I take care of them. Sadly, their life span is short though. Doctors used to use leeches, and my little gems don’t take anywhere near as much blood as one of those.”
Unable to prevent a little shudder, Angel looked into the lens again. The sudden stirring of her hair by Roland’s warm breath as he also leaned in to look had her jump as high as one of the fleas.
She straightened, knocking into him, and twisted around, startled to find him so close. His dark eyes stared into hers, only inches away. It took a moment for her mind to start functioning again.
“I imagine you want to see, too.” She hastily stepped aside. “Please, take my place. I must be getting back. Thanks for the free show—and the stool.” With a tense smile, she picked one up and escaped from the tent.
“She’s got it bad,” Chester said with an annoying chuckle.
“I don’t think so.”
“Then you’re blind, deaf,
and
dumb.” His words came calmly as he began putting away his flea family. “And I don’t mean mute.”
“Don’t I get a look?”
“You’re not going after her?”
“It’s
Curbing a groan, he held the tent flap aside and allowed her to enter Chester’s tent ahead of him.
Chester offered them both an abrupt nod in greeting, his jaw tense. Angel had never seen the affable man look so sullen. She considered asking if everything was all right between him and Cassie but decided not to interfere. She didn’t know him well enough to invite confidences.
“Hope we aren’t intruding,” Roland said.
Chester shrugged, the smile he offered grim. “What can I do for you two?”
Angel told him about her need for a stool, and he readily complied.
“Sure, I can let one go.” He moved to a wooden counter where three stools sat in front of what looked like a miniature circus, smaller than a dollhouse. Tiny striped tents and banners stood erected on a platform. A model of a Ferris wheel, half the size of her hand, stood to the side.
Fascinated, Angel drew near. “Did you make this?”
“Sure did.” A bit of tension drained from his voice.
“It’s very good. There’s so much detail.” She sensed Roland draw closer, though he maintained his distance.
“As long as you’re both here, why don’t I give you that free show? I haven’t much else to do, so come see my little beauties.” His manner undergoing a complete roundabout, Chester looked beyond Angel’s shoulder with a grin. “Come on, Roland, my man. Step right up. Don’t be shy.” He moved to retrieve a cigar box and carefully slid back the lid.
Angel heard Roland’s footsteps rustle nearer in the grass.
Chester put something from his hand onto the small carnival layout. He looked up again.
“You’ll have to come closer. These human fleas are small. You’ll need to look at them through the special Fresnel lens I have.”
Angel inhaled softly as she felt Roland’s warmth at her back, though no part of him touched her. She struggled to concentrate on what Chester said as he showed each of his fleas’ amazing tricks. One appeared to lift a set of barbells, another to pull a wagon. A third to dance. Another flea moved the Ferris wheel by walking atop it.
“That is amazing,” she said, genuinely impressed. “You called them names, but how do you tell them apart?”
“Waltzing Matilda is faster than the others. Slow Moe at the wheel, well, his name tells it all. Each of them has a different personality or characteristic.”
She bent over the lens again. “They’re so tiny! What do they eat?”
“They don’t call them human fleas for nothing.”
She straightened. “Wha—oh.”
“Yeah, Cassie had that same horrified look in her eyes when she found out. Ever been bit by a mosquito? Dozens at once? Not much different, except I know my beauties haven’t any diseases, since I take care of them. Sadly, their life span is short though. Doctors used to use leeches, and my little gems don’t take anywhere near as much blood as one of those.”
Unable to prevent a little shudder, Angel looked into the lens again. The sudden stirring of her hair by Roland’s warm breath as he also leaned in to look had her jump as high as one of the fleas.
She straightened, knocking into him, and twisted around, startled to find him so close. His dark eyes stared into hers, only inches away. It took a moment for her mind to start functioning again.
“I imagine you want to see, too.” She hastily stepped aside. “Please, take my place. I must be getting back. Thanks for the free show—and the stool.” With a tense smile, she picked one up and escaped from the tent.
“She’s got it bad,” Chester said with an annoying chuckle.
“I don’t think so.”
“Then you’re blind, deaf,
and
dumb.” His words came calmly as he began putting away his flea family. “And I don’t mean mute.”
“Don’t I get a look?”
“You’re not going after her?”
“It’s
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