American Rebirth

by Norma Jean Lutz

  “These guys are really good,” Frank said in a low voice, nodding as if to make sure they believed him.

  “Well …” Ted looked at her with a question in his brown eyes. “It would be fun to see someone try to get out of handcuffs without a key.”

  Emily nodded. “Mother and Father shouldn’t mind if it’s not truly magic.” She ignored the sliver of guilt that prickled at her conscience. Ted was right. It did sound like fun.

  Ted had to pay ten cents for himself and Emily to go inside. Frank simply handed the ticket seller a doughnut. “Hiya, Jack. Can I go in and sell my doughnuts?”

  “Sure, Frank,” the skinny, bald man said. “Just see ya don’t keep payin’ stooges from watchin’ the show, hear?”

  Frank gave him a sharp nod and touched the brim of his flat-topped hat. “Sure, I hear ya. Thanks.”

  Inside it seemed dark after the bright, sunlit street. Emily stumbled behind the boys until they found some empty wooden chairs.

  Frank said, “I’ll be back. I’m goin’ ta try and sell some doughnuts before the show starts.” He walked up and down the aisles. “Doughnuts! Only a penny apiece!”

  A couple minutes later a man came on the small stage and announced two young men: Harry and Dash Houdini.

  Frank hurried back up the aisle. “That’s them,” he said in a loud whisper before sitting down beside Ted.

  Two short men with wavy black hair walked onstage. They wore suits that Emily thought looked like the suits the waiters at the hotel restaurant wore.

  “They don’t look any older than Richard,” she whispered to Ted, who nodded in agreement.

  The older one flashed a big smile. “Ladies and gents, we’re here to show youse a few experiments in de art of sleight o’ hand.”

  The two performers made scarves appear and disappear. They did card tricks. They weren’t very good. The older-looking brother dropped the cards. He shrugged his shoulders and gave the audience a big boyish grin. Most of the people laughed.

  “That’s Harry Houdini,” Frank whispered. “He’s not very good at this kind of thing, but wait until they do their escape tricks.”

  Emily wondered if they had wasted Ted’s money.

  Then the younger brother, Dash, pointed to someone standing between the stage and the audience at the edge of the room. “Youse there, come on up here an help us wid this experiment.”

  One of the fair policemen walked up onstage.

  Emily gasped. “Aren’t you afraid he’ll catch you selling doughnuts, Frank?”

  Frank waved a hand impatiently. “Naw. That’s Al. He’s a friend of mine. The Houdini brothers pay him to be part of their act when he’s not on duty as a policeman.”

  Harry Houdini rolled up the sleeves of his short black jacket and his white shirt. He held out his arms toward the audience. “Youse can see I ain’t got nothin’ up my sleeves.”

  He held his hands toward Al, his wrists together. “Put on yer bracelets.”

  Al snapped the cuffs on. Then he held the key high for the audience to see and stuffed it into his own pocket. Another volunteer was called up from the audience to make sure the handcuffs were tightly fastened.

  Harry Houdini wiggled his hands about, trying to slip his wrists from the cuffs. His boyish face screwed into wrinkles as he struggled. Emily leaned forward in her seat, holding her breath.

  Suddenly Houdini whipped the cuffs from his wrists and, grinning, held them above his head.

  Emily and Ted pounded their hands together until they stung. The rest of the audience did the same. Frank stuck two fingers between his lips and whistled.

  The curtain at the back of the stage opened, and a stagehand wheeled a large box forward. The box was taller than the Houdinis.

  Dash Houdini swung an arm toward the box. “Ladies and gents, the Metamorphosis!”

  It took Emily a minute to remember that the long word meant change.

  The Houdini brothers opened the box, letting the audience see it was empty. Then they turned the box all the way around.

  “As youse can see,” Dash told them, “there’s only one way outa this box.” He held up a strip of braid, dangling it before the audience.

  Harry Houdini held his hands behind his back, wrists together once more. Dash tied the braid around them. At Dash’s request, Al the policeman checked the ropes to be sure they were tied tightly.

  Then Harry Houdini walked inside the box. Dash closed the door and locked it.

  Emily gasped. So did Ted and the rest of the audience.

  Dash wrapped a long rope around the box, hesitated, then wrapped it around again and tied it. Once more, Al checked the rope and declared it was securely tied.

  Emily inched forward on her seat. Her fingers clutched the top of the wooden chair in front of her. Her gaze was glued to the stage.

  The stage curtains closed, hiding the box and Dash Houdini.

  Dash’s head appeared through the curtain. “One, two …” His head disappeared.

  “Three!” Harry’s face poked through the curtains where Dash’s face had been a moment before.

  Emily clapped a hand to her mouth. “Oh!”

  Ted whooped.

  The curtains parted. There stood the box, the door open. The rope lay on the floor. Inside stood Dash, his hands tied behind his back with the braid, just as Harry Houdini’s had been.

  The room thundered with applause and cheers. With huge smiles on their faces, the Houdinis bowed.

  “That was great!” Ted said.

  “Didn’t I tell ya?” Frank gave him a smug smile.

  “You said it’s all a trick,” Emily reminded him. “How did they do it? And so quickly?”

  Frank looked at her in a way that made her feel sure he thought she was stupid. “They aren’t likely ta be tellin’ folks that. If they did, no one would pay to see them do their tricks.”

  “What else should we see?” Ted asked, as they blinked their way into the outdoors.

  A smile slipped across Frank’s round face. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to a friend of mine.”

  “Watch out! Watch out!”

  Emily stepped out of the way as a camel passed with its passenger. If I’d been watching where I was going, I could be riding one of them, she thought, disgusted with herself.

  Frank stopped in front of an exhibit. “This is it.”

  Cheerful piano music came from the exhibit, the notes pushing aside the sounds of the street. Curious, Emily and Ted followed Frank inside.

  A young black man was playing the piano. His hands flew across the white and black keys.

  Emily leaned close to Ted so he could hear her. “He looks like he’s having a good time.” She bounced up and down to the music.

  Applause filled the room when the man finished. He stood up and bowed. “More!” cried someone in the audience. The rest of the audience clapped harder and repeated the cry.

  The young man shook his head, smiling. “Time to give these fingers a break. I’ll be back before long, though. Thanks for coming.” He walked behind a curtain.

  “He was good,” Emily told Frank. “I am glad you brought us here.”

  The crowd began filing out. Frank didn’t follow. Instead, he headed toward the stage.

  Emily and Ted looked at each other uncertainly.

  Frank turned around and motioned for them to follow him. When he disappeared behind the curtain, Emily looked at Ted again. He shrugged and followed Frank, so Emily slipped behind the curtain, too.

  Frank greeted a couple of the men who were working behind the stage. The black man who’d been playing the piano was standing at the back of the room drinking a glass of water.

  Emily stared as Frank walked right up to him. “Hi, Mr. Joplin.”

  “Frank! Good to see you again. I could use one of your mother’s doughnuts if you have any left. I’m famished.”

  Frank pulled one out of his bag and received a penny from Mr.

  Joplin.

  “I brought some new frie
nds by to hear your music,” Frank told him.

  Emily’s heart swelled at the word friends. I hope that means he’s forgiven me for ruining so many doughnuts, she thought.

  “This is Ted and Emily,” Frank told the man. His shoulders seemed to straighten a bit in pride. “And this is Mr. Scott Joplin. He’s about the best piano player that’s ever lived.”

  Mr. Joplin laughed. “Wish everyone felt like you do, Frank.”

  “I liked your music,” Emily said. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything like it, though.”

  Mr. Joplin smiled at her. “I call it Ragtime.”

  “Why don’t you play popular music,” Ted asked, “like the bands and orchestras back home?”

  “The world always needs new kinds of music, don’t you think? Ragtime is the kind of music I hear in my head. When I sit down at a piano, it just seems to come out the tips of my fingers and make these ivories dance.”

  Emily grinned. “I wish I could do that. It must be fun to have cheerful music in your head and fingers.”

  Mr. Joplin winked at her. “Little lady, I like the way you think.”

  Emily thought Mr. Joplin’s break went by all too fast. She’d enjoyed talking with him. “Can we listen to more of his music before we leave?” she asked Frank.

  “Sure.” He took a doughnut from his bag and munched it while they waited for Mr. Joplin to be introduced.

  Suddenly she heard Frank gasp. She swung her head toward him. A large hand was clamped onto one of Frank’s shoulders. An angry face on top of a big man in a fair policeman’s uniform glared down. “Caught up with you again, you little thief!”

  CHAPTER 12

  Frank’s Escape

  I’m no thief!” Frank twisted his shoulders, but he couldn’t break the policeman’s hold.

  The big man snorted. “By selling your wares without a license, you’re stealing money from honest food vendors. If that’s not being a thief, I don’t know what is.”

  People in the audience stared, wondering about the ruckus. Frank’s cheeks glowed bright red.

  Emily glared at the man. Her hands balled into fists at her side. “You don’t have to be so rough.”

  “Don’t meddle in police business, little lady.” The man squinted his beady eyes at her. “Say, are you with this robber?”

  Emily opened her mouth to say yes, but Ted answered first. “She and I came with my uncle. We have our tickets if you need to see them.”

  “I guess that won’t be necessary,” the man said. “You two look too well dressed to be friends with this hooligan. Besides, you’re not toting any doughnuts.”

  He dragged Frank toward the door. Frank was still squirming and tugging, but the man acted like Frank was no more trouble than a kitten would be to a tiger. “Ow! Why you … you …!”

  The policeman grabbed his shin with one hand. Frank wrenched free and sped out the door, his bag of doughnuts banging against his side.

  “Frank must have kicked him,” Ted said.

  “Good for him,” Emily said in a low voice. “I suppose Frank shouldn’t be breaking the law, but that policeman didn’t have to treat him so rough.”

  “Do you want to stay and hear Mr. Joplin play some more?” Emily shook her head. “I don’t feel so cheerful anymore.” “Me, either.”

  When they were walking down the Midway once more, Emily looked at her ruined hat. “Maybe I should throw this away. I could tell Mother I lost it.”

  “You could,” Ted agreed, “but that would be lying.” Emily sighed and nodded.

  Ted stopped suddenly. Emily turned around. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “I was having so much fun seeing the Midway with Frank that I forgot all about the time. Do you think Richard and Anna are still waiting for us?”

  She groaned. “Oh, no! We’d better hurry.”

  They sped up the street. Emily tried to watch where she was going. She didn’t want to run anyone else down!

  Richard and Anna were nowhere to be seen near the entrance to Old Vienna, where they’d agreed to meet.

  Emily’s heart dropped to her shoes. This day was going from bad to worse.

  “Come on.” Ted’s voice sounded grim. “We’d better see if we can find your parents. Maybe they’re still at the restaurant.”

  Neither spoke as they rushed along. Emily wondered whether Ted was as nervous as she was about seeing her parents.

  “They are waiting for us here,” Emily said, relieved when the restaurant came into sight.

  Her mother and Anna were seated on a bench outside the restaurant. Richard was standing beside the bench with his arms crossed and an impatient look on his face. Her father was pacing, hands in his pockets.

  Emily and Ted glanced at each other, took deep breaths, and hurried across the street. “Hello!”

  “There you are!” Emily’s father glared at them. “We’ve been worried sick about you and had no idea where to look in the miles of fairgrounds.”

  Emily and Ted stood quietly while the older people scolded them for being late and not staying with Richard and Anna. They knew better than to try to make excuses for themselves.

  “We’re sorry,” Emily said when there was a break in the scolding. “We know we were wrong to be so late.”

  “Everything was so exciting to see,” Ted added. “We were having so much fun that we forgot we were to meet Richard and Anna.”

  “We forgot all about the time.” Emily swung her arms wide.

  Her mother stared at Emily’s hand. “Whatever did you do to your new sailor hat?”

  Emily gulped. She’d been hiding the hat behind her skirt when they came up to her parents. In explaining about the time, she’d forgotten she was holding it. “It, uh, it kind of got crushed.”

  “That is obvious,” her mother said dryly. “How?”

  Emily glanced at Ted. She didn’t much like the pity she thought she saw in his almost-black eyes. “It, um, fell on the ground, and someone crushed it.”

  “How could it fall on the ground? Weren’t you wearing hat pins to secure it to your hair?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “Tell me the whole story, Emily Marie.”

  How does she always know when I’m not telling the complete truth? Emily wondered as she started the story of knocking over the wheeled chair.

  “Was the woman hurt?” her father asked.

  “No,” Emily answered.

  Mother shook her head. “When are you going to learn to act like a young lady?”

  Emily bit her lip. Why can’t I just act like me? she wanted to ask. She’d been told often enough that one of a mother’s duties was to raise her children to act properly.

  Father crossed his arms over his jacket and vest. “Unless you two prove to us that you can act more responsibly, you will not be allowed to visit any exhibits by yourself.”

  “Yes, sir,” Emily muttered.

  “Yes, sir,” Ted said quietly.

  Instead of going back to the hotel, they ate in a German restaurant on the fairgrounds. Bouncy tunes from a German band gave them something to listen to while they ate.

  The cheerful music didn’t lighten Emily’s heart. She couldn’t forget Frank. It must be awful to be hunted by the fair police just because you’re trying to make a living for your family, she thought.

  After dinner the family visited the Minnesota Building while waiting for darkness.

  “When darkness falls,” Father told them, “the main fair buildings are decorated with light, and there is a fireworks display.”

  Leaving the Minnesota Building, Emily overheard a well-dressed, middle-aged woman say to the woman beside her, “This fair seems a horrid waste of money. There are so many people out of work in the country. The money spent on the fair buildings would be better spent helping them.”

  The woman beside her agreed.

  Guilt settled down on Emily’s shoulders like a heavy cape. Maybe I shouldn’t be enjoying this tri
p to the fair when boys like Frank and Erik have to work, she thought.

  Later that evening, sitting in the dusk in the middle of the White City, Emily admitted the sight was beautiful. White lights chased each other along, outlining the buildings, framing them against the night sky. She’d never seen anything like it.

  The water in the fountains sprayed up in many colors. “How do they do that?” she asked.

  Richard knew, of course. “There are lights beneath the fountains. They shine up from beneath the water and make the water look like it’s pink or green or blue.”

  Soon the fireworks were set off. They were beautiful against the night sky. But as beautiful as everything was, Emily couldn’t seem to get excited about it.

  Her father sat down beside her and slipped an arm around her shoulders. “Tired?”

  She shrugged and leaned her head against her father’s shoulder.

  “Maybe a little.”

  “Is something the matter?” he asked in a low voice. “You aren’t your usual cheerful self.”

  She bit her bottom lip, wondering how she could tell him what was bothering her. She didn’t want to get in trouble for going to exhibits with Frank.

  “When I tipped over that wheeled chair this afternoon, I knocked over someone else, too. A boy. He was selling doughnuts.”

  “Was he hurt?” That always seemed to be her doctor father’s first question.

  “No,” she answered. “But he was the same age as Ted and me. His father lost his job, so he had to quit school and go to work like Erik.”

  “That’s happened to a lot of boys during these hard times,” her father said quietly.

  “I feel bad, playing and visiting the fair when Frank and Erik have to work.”

  He squeezed her shoulder. “I’m glad you have such a good heart.”

  His words made her feel loved, but she still felt guilty.

  “Chicago’s mayor is trying to help the unemployed men,” Father explained. “He’s started something he calls an unemployment bureau to help men like Frank’s father find jobs.”

  “Tonight I heard a lady say that instead of spending money on the fair, the country should have given the money to the poor men who are out of work.”