“If it is a red door, yes, ma’am,” I answered. I wondered if I should change that to

“madam.” Why was a businesswoman out on her own errands?

She coolly inspected Apollo. “I thought as much. I am Mrs. Delaney. I had a dream I should find luck on my doorstep this day.”

I wasn’t the only one having odd dreams. I introduced my companions and myself. “How may I help you?” I asked.

“It seems I am in need of a boy after all,” she said. “Mine has left, and it’s hard to get help from town when you’re in my line of business.” She glanced at Apollo again. “I’m sure I could find enough work for two—if you mean to stay.”

This amounted to a generous offer, and yet I was apprehensive.

“What kind of work would you be offering these fine young men, Mrs. Delaney?” Mr. Northstar asked. He kept his eyes lowered and his tone even. He didn’t have to worry about two boys not his own, but I was glad he did.

I don’t know whom she believed him to be—not our father, obviously. She sized him up and must have decided that a civil answer might be expedient. “Nothing a lad would be ashamed of,” she replied. “Kitchen chores, gathering up glasses, fetching and carrying for my gentlemen.”

“Is this a boardinghouse you run?” he asked.

“We ply the oldest trade at my establishment,” she said.

Her honesty surprised me. I peeked at Apollo but saw no glimmer of understanding there.

“But my girls are clean,” Mrs. Delaney continued, “and I teach them manners if they have none. This includes leaving the staff to their business.”

“Well, you speak fair and plain,” Mr. Northstar admitted. “For the sake of their mothers I would beg you to honor their youth, however.”

A spark of irritation lit her eyes.

“How much does it pay?” I asked. I appreciated Mr. Northstar’s concern, but I hoped my youth would not be respected too much.

“Eight dollars a week for both of you,” she replied as if this were a fortune.

I almost protested. I had made ten dollars a week with the circus all by myself, but where else in this unknown place would I find employ? “Does the job include room and board?”

“Certainly,” she answered, and bestowed a glowing smile upon me. “As well as clean bed linens, and a bath on Sunday. We lodge the boys down by the kitchen, away from the business, before you ask,” she told Mr. Northstar. Her lips tweaked with amusement.

Mr. Northstar accompanied us back to the house, leading his horse and cart. He declined to come inside, however.

“I’ll check on you boys before I leave town today,” he said, “in case you find the work doesn’t suit you after all. Mind you keep Apollo out of the parlor and away from upstairs,” he said to me.

“I’m housebroke,” complained Apollo.

Mr. Northstar shook his head and smiled.

“My dear child,” said Mrs. Delaney, stroking Apollo’s furry cheek with her fingertips. “No one doubts it, but we wouldn’t want to cause a stir among the guests, would we? You know how ungenerous some people can be.”

Indeed, Apollo did now, if he didn’t before. He beamed at Mrs. Delaney. “I’ll keep out of sight,” he promised.

“I’ll bid you good day, then,” said Mr. Northstar. He mounted his cart and cracked the reins. I hoped he would find good news in town.

“Here are the boys, Elsie,” called Mrs. Delaney as we walked through the door. The girl we’d seen earlier ran downstairs, now clad in an Oriental wrapper.

“Try to be sensible and not swoon this time,” said Mrs. Delaney. “This is simply a very unusual boy. Now, off with you to bed.”

That seemed an odd thing to say in the morning, but of course, the lady in question must have been up all night.

Mrs. Delaney rang a bell, and the frazzled maid who appeared showed us to our quarters—mine a small room off the kitchen, Apollo’s a box room under the back stairs, just big enough for a cot. The maid pulled a worn but serviceable canvas shirt and a pair of pants from a nearby airing cupboard and handed them to Apollo gingerly. They appeared to be almost the right size for him. She offered me a pair of dungarees. I hesitated but took them. I didn’t know when I might clean and mend the garments I wore. She then directed us to the outside pump, in case we wished to rinse off, and scurried away, with one last wide-eyed look behind her. I stowed my suitcase under the bed and insisted Apollo join me outside.

“I washed in the stream,” he protested.


Tags: Annette Curtis Klause Young Adult