Wonder Show

by Hannah Barnaby

  Arthur Plumhoff, who is mentioned in one of Jackal’s stories, was a real performer known as The Human Pincushion and The Pain-Proof Man. There were also several real armless women like Marie, although none of them (as far as I know) had her talent for knife-throwing. Fat ladies, bearded ladies, dwarfs—all of these were standard fare in sideshows for decades. Other popular attractions were often people who suffered from birth defects or medical conditions. The Lobster Boy, for example, was a performer named Grady Stiles who was born in 1937 with a condition called ectrodactyly, which resulted in his fingers and toes being fused together to form clawlike extremities. Stiles and two of his four children toured together as The Lobster Family.

  By 1939, when this story takes place, sideshows had largely fallen out of favor with the public. There was a new sense of discomfort, a feeling that paying money to look at human oddities was socially, and perhaps morally, inappropriate. However, one could argue that the sideshow provided a context for people who would otherwise have been marginalized or rejected by society to make a living, to survive and to form relationships with others who understood their point of view. Whether “freaks” were exploited or not is a question that has been and will continue to be debated for many years. Nonetheless, the era of the traveling circus and sideshow was a unique period in the history of American entertainment and provided countless stories that will be shared for generations to come.

  The noblest art is that of making others happy.

  —P. T. Barnum

  Acknowledgments

  First and foremost, I must thank the Associates of the Boston Public Library for selecting me as their first Children’s Writer-in-Residence and giving me the great gift of time, space, and financial support that allowed this novel to begin its existence.

  Thanks also to Susan Bloom and Cathryn Mercier at the Center for the Study of Children’s Literature at Simmons College, for opening the door to the field of children’s literature, and to Anita Silvey, for showing me how many different paths awaited me.

  To my advisors at Vermont College—for drawing stories out of me and teaching me to shape them.

  To my editor, Kate O’Sullivan, for sharing her wisdom and guidance and for years of friendship that made working together more fun than a writer deserves.

  To my family, especially my incomparable mother-in-law, Margaret Thomas Barnaby, for watching over my children with unparalleled love and patience while I hid at the library and worked on revisions.

  And to Eddie, for making me get up early, for pouring the wine, for cheering me on, and for complicating my life in the most beautiful ways.