It Happened at the Fair (17 page)

“Yes,” she whispered.

He lowered the lantern. His shoulders relaxed. He slowly turned around.

Still, she didn’t move.

“Adelaide?” His voice had dropped, a hint of warning in it.

She pulled her gaze from his chest to his eyes. But she couldn’t see them, not with the lantern hanging down by his legs.

“I’ll see you tomorrow evening for your lesson,” she said.

He gave a nod.

She scratched the stair rail with her finger. “How are your eyes?”

“Much better.”

“They looked as though the swelling had gone down quite a bit. It was hardly even noticeable, in fact.”

“Yes. This was nothing.”

“Do they sting?”

“They’ll be completely back to normal by morning.”

“I’m glad.” Turning, she went up one step, then paused. “No one calls me Adelaide anymore.”

He said nothing.

“Della. They call me Della.”

Not a sound.

She looked over her shoulder. “Good night, Cullen.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Good night, Della.”

USS ILLINOIS EXHIBIT

“Moored to its landing, as if it had just arrived from a long battle, was the USS Illinois, apparently afloat. But nothing at the World’s Fair was what it appeared to be.”

CHAPTER

16

The hour before the park opened was Cullen’s favorite, but he had only about twenty more minutes before Machinery Hall started its machines. And he’d have to be there when it did—even if every visitor nodded politely, then stopped at Bulenberg’s display and listened as he launched into an extensive discourse on the merits of manual sprinkler systems and the evils of automatic ones. Each presentation culminated with a dramatic pull of a lever, at which point his sprinklers would open up—though, of course, no water came out. Cullen had nothing so showy in his presentation, for the only thing that could open his spigots was an actual fire.

A brisk breeze off Lake Michigan’s shoreline ruffled his newspaper. Tucking his watch back into his pocket, he readjusted himself on the bench and scanned the generous sweep of smooth promenade sloping down to the water’s edge. An egret flew inches above the lake, its reflection distorted by the rippling surface.

Beyond it, a curved pier extended into the water. Moored to its landing, as if it had just arrived from a long battle, was the USS
Illinois
, apparently afloat. But nothing at the World’s Fair was what it appeared to be. In reality, the
Illinois
was no more than a brick battleship resting on a substantial foundation of piling and heavy timbers.

USS ILLINOIS EXHIBIT

Still, he’d have given anything to have toured its berth deck and afterdeck, its main deck, search lights, and battery of guns. Instead, he’d had to suffer through a tailors’ exhibit, with murals depicting every form of dress attire from Adam and Eve on up to today’s modern styles, a Belgian exhibit with dainty shawls, lace curtains, and dress goods, and a French exhibit where an entire wedding party of wax figures showed off the latest in bridal fashions.

It would have been the perfect time to bring up Wanda. But he wasn’t at the fair to reveal his personal business to his lip-reading instructor. He was at the fair to sell sprinkler systems and keep the farm afloat. In order to do that, he needed to be able to communicate with the buyers. To soothe their fears about trying something new. To convince them his way was better than Bulenberg’s. And to keep any other roadblocks—like going deaf—from entering the equation.

Just yesterday, Vaughn had stopped by to check on his progress—not only on the sprinklers but on his lip-reading. The insurance man had a vested interest in Cullen’s success. The more clients he won, the more policyholders Vaughn had the potential of winning as well. So Cullen had put as positive a spin on it as he could. But the fact was, he needed to accelerate the pace of his lessons, even if it meant going to a shoe exhibit. A
shoe
exhibit.

For hours Della had exclaimed over shoes of alligator skin, buffalo, and horsehide. Wooden shoes, spiked shoes, and shoes with upturned toes. Velvet-lined shoes, scented shoes, and dainty shoes with a ridiculous number of buttons.

When they’d finally seen all the shoes and he thought they could leave, she began to examine a wall with hundreds of watercolors depicting every style of footwear worn by every blasted race for the last three to four thousand years.

He sighed. The only thing worse than studying all those exhibits was studying her lips. Yet she’d been a ruthless taskmaster, insisting he do just that. It was, after all, why he’d been accompanying her.

His progress had been painfully slow. Though she’d taught him shapes for all the vowel families and one of the consonant families, he was a long way from mastering them. Mouth movements, it turned out, were very minute actions—some more minute than others.

So much depended on whether speakers were facing him, facing away, or looking to the side. Whether their lips were thick or thin. Whether they had mustaches, beards, or both. Whether they were from the North or the South. Or even from America.

With women, he had to be particularly careful. It made them uncomfortable if he stared at their mouths for any length of time—except for Della, of course.

Still, after the fiasco in the entry hall, he’d done his level best to think of her as nothing more than his teacher, a nonperson almost. When he was with her, he kept plenty of space between them, touched her only if absolutely necessary, and limited his conversation, as much as he could, to nods, yeses, and ahems.

That worked fine when they were together. But he found himself thinking about her much too often when they were apart. Last week, John had caught him grinning for no apparent reason. Cullen had had to come up with a quick explanation or face telling John what he was really smiling about—Della and the way she’d taught her dog to talk.

He felt a smile tug at his mouth even now. Who’d ever heard of such a thing? And she’d been so expressive, her face changing as if she were an actress on the stage. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. Facial expressions were a crucial part of communicating with the deaf. But he still found himself charmed by it.

A heron waded into the shallow surf just a few yards away. It jabbed its beak into the water, then pulled up a fish. He envied the bird and wished his meals were as easy to come by. It had been quite an adjustment to forgo his noon meal. Even Alice’s bean kettle soup was starting to sound good. But if things were as bad as the papers claimed, he’d need to continue to save every coin he had.

He glanced at the headlines again. The Erie Railroad had gone belly-up, the Milwaukee Bank had suspended trading, and the New York Stock Exchange was threatening to close. Three more sizable railroad companies were barely hanging on. And forty-eight banks had failed in the last two weeks—forty of them in the South.

He rubbed his mouth. John still pestered him about setting some kind of shed on fire, then letting his sprinklers put it out. But a demonstration like that would cost money. Money he couldn’t afford to spend. Yet he had to do something. If he didn’t, he risked the merchant back home calling in his father’s debt. And with the bank holding their mortgage, there wouldn’t be a thing they could do about it.

There were already two million Americans out of work, with nowhere to go. He didn’t want his family adding to their numbers. He wasn’t even sure how many systems he needed to sell, though. It all depended on the size of the building and if it was a new or existing one.

He gazed out over the limitless water. In the far distance, one of the fair’s whale-back steamers began to plough in his direction, its deck black with people. People coming to see this City of Delight, when all the while, the rest of the country was facing the worst depression it had ever seen.

MACHINERY HALL, CENTER AISLE

“A glove-making machine converted tanned hide into pairs of buttoned kid gloves, all stitched, perfumed, and packed.”

CHAPTER

17

Della couldn’t believe the noise level in Machinery Hall. How did Cullen stand it? She began her trek toward the back left-hand corner, hoping she’d be able to find him within this monstrosity.