“Knife-throwing is not too original,” Apollo continued, “but maybe they haven’t seen much of that in these parts.”
“Oh, thank you,” I replied.
“You’ll need a lovely assistant,” said Miss Lightfoot.
“Me,” said Tauseret.
“You may not want to,” I said. I didn’t want to frighten her.
“Show me what to do,” she demanded.
I posed her in front of a wall, arms wide, while the children called encouragement and advice. She was a tiny thing, I realized, less than five feet tall. Her attitude made me think of her as being much taller. “You stand there,” I explained, “and I shall throw knives to outline you.” Since she had been bossy, I couldn’t resist a little teasing. “Don’t worry, I don’t often miss.” I pulled out one of my knives with as much flourish as I could muster, then pretended to almost drop it.
I expected her to squeal and protest like any girl, but she remained motionless except for a slight proud tilt of her chin. “Certainly,” she said. “I knew you had the warrior in you still.” I felt quite pleased at her words, although I didn’t know why I should.
I threw three knives, and the children cheered each one. She didn’t flinch. Perhaps she was scared, but I suspected she would never show fear, not if the devil took her. My heart filled with pride, and a fond and silly smile spread over my face. “Can you make her a costume?” I asked Miss Lightfoot. “A knife thrower’s assistant should show her shapely legs.”
In the late afternoon Mr. Webster appeared with a wagon full of benches he’d borrowed from the schoolhouse. Mr. Ginger and I unloaded them, and the children arranged them in front of the curtains. I asked Mr. Webster if he had some soft lumber that I could knock into a simple target. While he went off to check, I decided to see if Mr. Bopp felt up to participating.
“Well, I don’t feels too good,” said the human caterpillar, “but I s’pose I could do some of me embroidery to get the show over and us on our way.”
Embroidery? This I had to see.
The evening came faster than expected. No sooner had we lit assorted lamps around the walls and along the front of our improvised performance area than our audience arrived. The attendees included the farm help as well as the landowners. I thought that generous of the Websters. I wondered if the Webster hospitality had gone so far as to invite their rivals of Tompson’s Dairy. Soon every bench was full with adults and children in their simple summer finery.
“My, I wish I owned Sears and Roebuck,” said Miss Lightfoot when she peeked through the curtains.
I don’t think I was ever so happy to see an audience. Surely we were safe from Mink with all those eyes upon us. We only had to get through the night now and leave before dawn with our newly disguised conveyance.
I wore my best suit, but the weather was too warm for a jacket, and I abandoned that. I would have to put my knives on soon anyway, and I couldn’t do that over a coat. I looked around for my assistant. I hadn’t seen Tauseret for a while. Perhaps she wanted to surprise me with her costume.
“The nasty man’s outside,” said Minnie out of nowhere. I started, lost my balance, and walked through the curtains before I meant to. The audience applauded and there was no turning back, despite the racing of my heart.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” I began, and my voice squeaked. I took a deep breath. “Welcome to the most amazing show you will ever witness in all your born days.”
27
I TRIED TO CONCENTRATE ON THE show and not on Minnie’s words—after all, she was a little girl who might not be able to tell the difference between visions and fears. So I promised the audience miracles, I offered them marvels, I whetted their appetite with hints of what was to come, and after that
I introduced the greatest wonder they would ever see and didn’t even tell them that’s what it was.
“My assistant, please.”
Tauseret stepped through the curtains, carrying my knives in their leather bandolier. A soft gasp of appreciation came from the men, and I may have gasped too. Her face was enough— made up with kohl and ruby lips, it reminded me of a defiant flower—but she also wore a costume that sealed the fate of any man who glanced at her. The blue-and-gold bodice showed off her tiny waist to perfection, and she sported bloomers that didn’t hide an inch more of her white tights than they had to. Miss Lightfoot had magically provided shoes with buckles and high heels that enhanced her magnificent legs even more, if that was possible.
Tauseret approached with a dancer’s grace and draped the bandolier over my shoulder, her hand lingering on mine. From afar she had looked stunning, but up close I was distressed to see fine lines around her eyes and the skin of her hands leathery again.
“Are you all right?” I whispered as I tightened the buckle of the bandolier.
She nodded. “But you must not neglect me,” she whispered back.
I let my fingers skim along her arm like a promise as she stepped away.
I showed one of my knives to the audience. “A simple knife. A tool.”
With a flourish Tauseret pulled off the cloth that draped my target.
“And a place to hone my craft.”