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Ten Thumb Sam

Page 2

by Rachel Muller


  Sam performed again that evening for the remaining members of the circus. He was nervous, but somehow he made it right through to the last trick without messing anything up.

  “Congratulations!” Mr. Pigatto, the ringmaster, said while Sam was wiping his forehead in relief. “What do you say, Sam? Think you’re ready for the big top?”

  Sam swallowed. “I think so.”

  Max clapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “We’ll have to spend a little more time fine-tuning Sam’s act. Then I know he’ll be ready.”

  “Thanks again, Dad,” Sam told his father before going to bed that night.

  “My pleasure,” said Max. “I’m proud of you for working so hard.”

  For the first time in many months, Sam went to sleep with a smile on his face.

  Chapter Four

  The Triple Top Circus was set up on the edge of a small prairie town when Sam’s big night finally arrived. Bright lights lit up the sky, and lively music boomed from every loudspeaker. Eager crowds streamed into the big top, jostling good-naturedly for the best seats.

  Irene stood waiting with Elizabeth and Louise in the small performers’ tent that opened into the big top. Their trapeze act would open the night’s show. Sam sat in a folding chair beside them, fidgeting nervously.

  “Are you all right, sweetie?” Irene asked.

  “I’m fine,” Sam lied.

  Louise looked up from the fingernail she was filing. “He looks kind of green.”

  Elizabeth nodded knowingly. “At least this time we won’t be beneath him when he tosses his cookies.”

  “Girls,” said Irene, “leave your brother alone.” She turned back to Sam. “Are you feeling sick?”

  Sam shook his head.

  “You sure?”

  He nodded.

  “All right then,” said his mother. “There’s Mr. Pigatto announcing our act—we’ve got to go.” She planted a big kiss on Sam’s forehead before moving to the entrance of the main tent. “You’re going to be great, sweetie.”

  Sam let himself slump forward when he was alone. He was not fine, but he wasn’t going to admit it with the twins standing nearby. His hands were damp and trembling. The loud music and bright lights of the neighboring tent were giving him a headache. He’d already lost his dinner in the privacy of a toilet stall, but he still felt queasy. And if he felt like this here in the shadows, he had no idea how he was going to survive ten minutes in the spotlight.

  “Ready, Sam?” Max asked as he slipped in to stand beside Sam’s folding chair.

  “Sure,” Sam said with a forced smile.

  “What about you, Annabel?”

  Annabel’s blond ringlets bobbed up and down. “I’m always ready, Daddy.”

  Sam watched from the doorway of the performers’ tent as his mother appeared in the center ring of the big top with Elizabeth and Louise by her side. One by one, the three Stringbini women climbed up the ladder to the trapeze platform and began their flying act. Spotlights followed each swing, each twist and turn, each spectacular leap. Their performance was flawless, as usual. The crowd “oohed” and “aahed” and gave them a standing ovation when they were done.

  Mr. Poponopolis’s dogs followed the trapeze act. Then it was time for the Fritzi sisters and their stallions and a comic performance by the Triple Top clowns. There was a brief noisy intermission before Mr. Pigatto, the ringmaster, called everyone back. Sam’s brother Andrew appeared next, high above the center ring on the high wire. When the audience finished cheering at the end of Andrew’s act, it was Martin’s turn to do figure eights on his unicycle while juggling a set of cups and saucers.

  Sam had watched his family perform a thousand times, but tonight was different. Tonight he was finally going to prove that he belonged and that he could perform in front of an audience as well as any of his family members. “Oh please, please let me get through this without messing up,” Sam whispered.

  All too soon, the stout ringmaster was giving the magicians their cue. “And NOW, LADIES and GENTLEMEN,” Mr. Pigatto cried. “Please turn your attention to the FAR RING to see the NEXT ASTOUNDING ACT. MAGIC MAX and his DARLING ASSISTANT ANNABEL will THRILL and AMAZE you. And TONIGHT, for the first time EVER, Magic Max will appear in public with his APPRENTICE, a young master of the magic arts, SLEIGHT-OF-HAND SAM!”

  The crowd cheered as Max pushed Sam into the spotlight. It was a disaster from the start. The spectators waited for Sam to begin his first trick, but he was frozen to the spot.

  “Sam!” said Annabel. She elbowed her brother in the ribs.

  “It’s okay, son,” Max said quietly. “Take a deep breath. You’ll be fine.”

  Sam rubbed his side and blinked.

  “It’s okay,” Max repeated. “Just concentrate on your first trick.” He tapped his sleeve as a reminder.

  Sam swallowed and nodded. The first trick was a simple one that he’d already demonstrated several times for his family. It involved a string of brightly colored silk scarves that Sam would pull out of a secret lining in his sleeve. He’d practiced it a hundred times, and it had always worked.

  With trembling hands, Sam took off his jacket, turned it inside out and held it up for the audience’s inspection. He put the jacket back on again.

  “It’s inside out,” Annabel hissed through the smile pasted on her dimpled face.

  “What?” Sam said blankly.

  “Your jacket—it’s still inside out!”

  The audience laughed as Sam took off his jacket, turned it right side out and put it back on again.

  “One potato, two potato,” he said softly.

  “Speak up!” Max whispered.

  “Three potato, blue potato,” Sam finished, only a fraction louder.

  As the audience leaned forward in their seats to get a better view, Sam reached up his sleeve to pull out the string of scarves. The tip of a bright orange scarf emerged, but that was all. His face red, Sam tugged harder. A green scarf appeared. Sam strained to pull out the remaining scarves, but succeeded only in tearing off the green scarf. The crowd began to laugh and jeer.

  “Ahem,” said Mr. Pigatto, quickly stepping in to distract the audience. “If I may have your ATTENTION, MAGIC MAX is preparing his NEXT ILLUSION. Watch closely and before your VERY EYES, Magic Max’s lovely young assistant, ANNABEL, will enter the MYSTERIOUS WOODEN BOX and DISAPPEAR!”

  Annabel quickly got into position inside the crate. Sam stumbled as he was trying to get out of the way, and at that moment the evening’s events seemed to switch into slow motion. In an attempt to catch himself, Sam knocked over the cart that held his father’s magic equipment. Everything went flying. Sam was soaked in colored water, a bouquet of flowers landed on his head, and an assortment of magic wands fell around his feet. As it fell, the cart caught the side of Annabel’s box, and it too tipped over, breaking apart as it hit the ground.

  Startled by the noise, Snowball, Max’s white rabbit, hopped out from under an overturned top hat and bounded across the ground. Before anyone could stop him, the rabbit had escaped under one of the bleachers.

  A cage of doves had also been knocked over. The distressed birds circled the audience several times before settling themselves on the high wire.

  Max helped his youngest daughter out of the broken crate. Annabel’s smile had disappeared. There was fury in her blue eyes.

  For a moment the shocked crowd remained silent. Even Mr. Pigatto seemed at a loss for words. Then a few small children in the front row started giggling, and the silence was broken. Soon everyone in the big top was howling with laughter. Everyone, that is, but Sam.

  Chapter Five

  “Come on, Sam,” his mother said, two weeks after his disastrous first performance. “It’s your birthday. Everyone’s waiting for you in the big top.”

  “Tell them I’m sick,” Sam said from behind the curtain of his bunk bed.

  Irene pushed the curtain aside. “You can’t hide in here forever. Come on. Mrs. Pigatto made ham and pickle sandwic
hes.”

  “I’m not hungry,” Sam insisted as his mother took his arm and began pulling him out.

  “Not even for pistachio ice cream?” said Irene. “Oh well. More for your brothers, then.”

  “All right, I’m coming,” Sam grumbled.

  The circus performers cheered as Sam entered the tent behind his mother. When Sam was just a few yards away, Max waved a silk scarf in the air and a cake with eleven flickering candles appeared. Everyone clapped, even though they’d seen the trick a hundred times before. Sam waited until the performers had finished singing “Happy Birthday” before he blew out the candles.

  “So what did you wish for?” Annabel demanded when the last candle was out.

  “Don’t you know if he tells you what he wished for, his wish won’t come true?” Martin said.

  “Yeah, silly,” said Elizabeth.

  “No,” said Sam. He stood up straight. “It’s all right. This time I want everyone to know what my wish is.”

  “That’s the spirit,” said Mr. Pigatto. “What did you wish for this year, Sam? A new bike?”

  Sam screwed his eyes shut and blurted it out. “I’m tired of high wires and trapezes and magic acts. I’m tired of standing on the sidelines and living on a bus and traveling to a new town every week. I just want—”

  Sam’s speech was interrupted by a commotion outside the tent. “I just want to leave the circus,” Sam finished quietly. But it was too late. He’d already lost his audience. Everyone had turned to watch the group of people that was spilling noisily through the entrance of the big top.

  Sam immediately recognized the large, red-bearded man at the front of the group. It was his Uncle Albert, followed by the rest of Albert’s family.

  “You made it!” said Sam’s mother. “Welcome!”

  “Oh dear,” said Sam’s Aunt Mabel. “I do hope we aren’t interrupting anything.”

  “Of course not, Mabel,” Irene said graciously. “We were just celebrating Sam’s birthday. There’s enough cake here for everyone.” Irene turned to face the rest of the Triple Top performers. “You remember I was telling you about my brother and his family?”

  “Pleased to meet you,” said Mr. Pigatto.

  “Albert Horatio Goldfinger at your service.” Albert gave a little bow. “And this is my wife, Mabel,” he said, “and my sons, Herbert and Robert.” Two tall, skinny, freckled boys with buzz cuts stepped forward. Sam barely recognized his redheaded cousins. They’d been about ten years old the last time he’d seen them. Now they were thirteen or fourteen.

  “Call me Herbie,” said the first, holding up his hand.

  “Robbie,” said the second.

  “This is my oldest daughter, Mary Ann,” Albert continued as a bored-looking teenager with curly red hair nodded vaguely in the group’s direction. She hadn’t changed as much as her brothers.

  “And my youngest daughter, Harriet,” Albert finished. Harriet nodded and smiled. She was Sam’s age. She had freckles, like her brothers, but her hair was straight and brown rather than red. A magpie perched on her left shoulder.

  “What’s going on?” Sam whispered to his brother Andrew. “What are they doing here?”

  “Shhh,” said Andrew. “Mom’s about to explain.”

  Irene cleared her throat. “As many of you know, my brother’s family would ordinarily be touring the Maritimes right now with the Leaping Lizard Circus.”

  “It’s a long and tragic story,” Albert interrupted, “but our circus has fallen on hard times. We were all given our walking papers two weeks ago. The Lizard,” he looked down at his shoes and shook his head sadly, “is no more.”

  There was a collective gasp, and then everyone started to talk at once. Mr. Poponopolis said something in Greek, while the Fritzi sisters and the Zuccatos slipped back into their native Italian.

  “NOT the Leaping Lizard,” Mr. Pigatto said, speaking for all of them. “The Leaping Lizard is a Canadian institution!”

  Albert nodded. “Alas, it was. It would have celebrated its seventy-fifth anniversary this September.”

  “Oh, you poor dears,” said Mrs. Pigatto as she patted Mabel’s trembling hands. “Whatever are you going to do?”

  “Until they get back on their feet, they’re going to travel with us,” said Irene. “After all, what’s one more bus in our convoy?”

  Albert cleared his throat. “Actually, I’m afraid we’ve had a bit of bad luck in that department as well. I had a few debts of my own. I couldn’t cover them when the circus went bankrupt, so our bus was seized.”

  “Goodness,” said Mrs. Pigatto, clutching her generous chest. “However did you get here?”

  “We had just enough money to purchase bus tickets,” said Albert.

  “Then you’ll have to move in with us for a little while,” said Irene. “Don’t you worry, Mabel,” she said to her sister-in-law. “Everything will be fine.”

  In the excitement of welcoming the new family to the Triple Top, everyone had forgotten Sam and his birthday. Sam watched as his brothers and sisters followed the Goldfingers outside to help them gather up their belongings.

  “They’re all staying with us?” he asked his father. “In our bus?”

  Max shrugged his shoulders. “Looks like it.”

  “But how are they all going to fit?”

  “I’m not exactly sure,” said Max. “The bus is small enough with eight of us crammed in.”

  “We’ll make it work, Max,” Sam’s mother said as she came up beside them. “Albert and Mabel can have our sleeping compartment, and you and I can sleep on the kitchen benches. Elizabeth and Louise can squeeze in together to free up a bunk for Mary Ann, and Harriet can bunk with Annabel. That leaves Herbie and Robbie. They can sleep in Sam’s bunk.”

  “What about me?” said Sam.

  “You’ll have to sleep on the floor for now.”

  “But why can’t some of them sleep on the other buses?” Sam asked. “Why do they all have to crowd in with us?”

  Irene sighed. “They’ve been through enough already without being separated as well. Besides, these are your cousins we’re talking about. They’re family. It’s our responsibility to make room for them.”

  “Is that a cat Mary Ann’s got in that crate?” Sam’s father said as the Goldfingers re-entered the big top.

  “They have two cats, if I remember correctly,” said Irene. “Siamese. And a chameleon and a magpie.”

  “Do we have to share our bus with the animals too?” asked Sam.

  Max looked over at his wife, one eyebrow raised.

  “No, we’re not going to share the bus with the animals,” Irene said. “And please try to remember— both of you—this is only temporary.”

  Chapter Six

  “There’s only one way to do this,” Sam’s mother announced as ten cranky kids stumbled out of the back sleeping area looking for breakfast the next morning. “Some of you will have to eat outside. How about boys outside today, girls outside tomorrow?”

  The boys grumbled as they received their bowls of porridge and made their way outside to the picnic table next to the bus. The girls didn’t sound much happier inside. Through an open window, Sam heard his sisters complain about the cramped sleeping arrangements, while Mary Ann expressed her displeasure at being forced to eat porridge for breakfast.

  “Hey, watch it!” Sam said angrily as Martin bumped against him. “You made me spill half my oatmeal!”

  Martin shrugged. “It’s not my fault your shoulder was in the way of my elbow. Watch where you sit next time.”

  Sam was still in a bad mood later that morning when he passed his cousin, Harriet, seated in the shade of one of the trailers. He was going to keep walking, but she lowered the book she was reading and called out to him.

  “Hey,” she said. “Why aren’t you getting ready for this afternoon’s show like everyone else?”

  Sam scowled. “I suppose they told you everything.”

  “What do you mean?”

 
“Oh c’mon! The rabbit, the doves, the way the stupid audience laughed!”

  Harriet looked blank. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. No one’s said anything to me about anything.”

  Sam stared at his cousin suspiciously for a moment. “Seriously?”

  “I swear.”

  “Okay, I believe you,” Sam said as he sat down. “So what’s with the bird?” he asked, pointing to the magpie on Harriet’s shoulder. “Is he part of your act?”

  “Loki? No, he’s just a pet. I found him when he was a baby. His nest fell out of a tree near where our circus was set up, and I rescued him. I don’t have an act.”

  “Really?” said Sam. “I thought I was the only circus kid without any talent.”

  “I have talent,” said Harriet. “I’m good at lots of things. I’ve been reading since I was three, and I play chess online whenever I can get an Internet connection. No one in my family will play with me anymore. They’re tired of getting slaughtered.”

  Sam shook his head. “Not that kind of talent— I mean like juggling, or walking the tightrope. That’s what counts in a circus. C’mon, you must feel left out sometimes.”

  Harriet shrugged. “I don’t know. Not really. My mother always says that there’s more to life than the circus. She never wanted to be a performer herself. She’s too shy. But she was born into a circus family, and then she married my dad and became his assistant in his magic act. So she’s kind of stuck.”

  “I’m the only one who feels stuck in my family,” said Sam. “I’d give anything to be with ordinary people for a change.”

  The Stringbini bus was in an uproar when Sam walked back at lunchtime.

  “I don’t eat animals,” Mary Ann said as she refused a bologna sandwich that Sam’s mother was trying to give her.

  “If she doesn’t have to, then I don’t either,” said Louise, crossing her arms.

  “I hate egg salad,” Annabel pouted.

  Herbie and Robbie spoke in unison: “We’re allergic to peanut butter.”

  “And by the way,” said Robbie, “has anyone seen Oliver?”

 

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