Will Sparrow's Road

by Karen Cushman

  Will's thoughts raced as he searched for the words that would save him. "Nay, nay, sir, I was but jostled by the passing geese and did reach out to grab something to steady myself, and the purse came loose into my hand.”

  "Nonsense,” said the fat man, and the other drinkers murmured and nodded. "It could not have happened that way. I will have the bailiff and—” At that instant, the last in the line of geese blundered into the man. Reaching out to steady himself, he grabbed the pennant adorning the ale stall. The pennant came loose, the stall tipped and tottered, and the man fell, pinning Will to the ground beneath him. Mugs and tankards flew about like raindrops in a wind storm.

  "You see, sir,” said Will to the man atop him, "it could have happened just as I said.”

  The onlookers laughed and saluted the two with their mugs. "'Tis true, sir, 'tis true! Let him go.”

  As the ale seller set the stall to rights, the fat man struggled to his feet. Will stood, wiped his sweaty hands on his breeches, and stumbled into the crowd, slipping now and then in the droppings the geese had left behind.

  Beside an ancient yew tree near the center of the fair, a crowd circled a tall, long-nosed man in a gown of shiny green fabric, white ruff, and black velvet cap with a feather. He had dark hair to his shoulders and a short pointed beard of brown shot with red. Will watched as he threw into the air a yellow scarf that disappeared when he snapped his fingers. A wizard? A conjurer?

  "Come, gentlefolk, closer. Prepare to be astounded,” the man said. "For the next illusion, I require an assistant.” He surveyed the crowd clustered around him and then motioned to Will to come forward.

  Will shook his head. Not I, he thought, remembering the tooth puller. Assisting him had gotten Will nothing but wasted time and a stitch in his side from running. But this man was waving an egg about in his long fingers. Ah, something to eat, if it be real and not a magic egg. Will's empty belly urged him forward.

  "Examine this egg,” said the conjurer. "Take it in your hand. Feel it, smell it. Be it a real egg? Genuine and ordinary?” Will inspected the egg. It was speckled and warm to the touch, brittle and odorless, shaped like an egg. Aye, Will would indeed say it was a real egg. He nodded to the conjurer and turned to go, clutching the egg.

  "Nay, nay,” said the man, grabbing Will by his sleeve. "Give it here to me.”

  Will looked longingly at the egg. 'Twould have made a fine supper. He sighed, and his belly rumbled as he handed the man the egg.

  "Now, young master,” said the conjurer, "join your fellows and watch in amazement.” He waved his arm about and chanted, "Hey fortuna, numquam credo, passe, passe, et flotatus, fugit, fugit, levitatus!" The egg flew about in the air.

  Will was overcome with wonder. The egg floated up and down, side to side, an ordinary egg behaving most extraordinarily. He remembered Doctor Munster, the supper cheat, saying, "Things are not always what they seem, boy,” so Will watched closely. He walked up to and behind the conjurer but could not see the trick. Was it truly magic, then? And was the magic in the words? he wondered. In the egg? Or in the man?

  Calling "passe, passe" once again, the conjurer made the egg disappear and then, motioning Will to him, pulled it out of the boy's ear. "Take it. An ordinary egg, is that not true?” Will took the egg, examined it, and nodded.

  The magician passed his hat around, and, as Will watched, people dropped coins into it. Go to! thought Will. I can do that.

  He paused to consider. If the conjurer caught him, would Will be punished by some magic spell? Would grass grow in his ears or his nose fall off? But if he could collect a capful of coins, he could buy a fine supper without the risky business of nipping purses or provisions.

  His stomach growled again, and he took the chance. He moved to the other side of the crowd and, whipping the cap from his head, passed it around. Few coins fell into the cap.

  Will watched the conjurer on the far side, smiling and laughing as he went among the folk. Mayhap I should do that also, he thought. Though he had had little experience of merriment, he smoothed back his hair and licked his lips. He grinned stiffly at each person and touched his forehead in salute, and before long he could hear the clinking of coins.

  Ere he could sneak away with his ill-gotten riches, his sleeve was grabbed and his cap seized. "I believe those coins are mine, bold fellow,” said the conjurer. "And the egg also.”

  Confronted by the magician's dark, hooded eyes, Will gulped but held tightly to the egg. "I have had naught to eat since early morn, and that were only plums,” he said. "I be most hungry. Might you not use your magic to pull another egg from the air and let me eat this one?”

  "Not magic, boy. Ne'er magic!” whispered the man. "Say not the word. Magic be a burning offense.” His voice grew louder. "I am Tobias of Froggenhall, master of the sleight of hand, adept of legerdemain, prince of prestidigitation. Trickery and illusions, that is my trade. I merely do tricks.” He pulled a handkerchief out of Will's ear and blew his nose in it. Then he threw it into the air, whereupon it disappeared. Will stared, openmouthed with wonder.

  The conjurer poured the coins from Will's cap into the purse at his own belt. "It appears you are more able than I at cajoling coins from folk,” he said. He peered closely at Will. "It must be your simple, open face. You appear innocent, though I doubt not it is an illusion.” He pulled Will's cap back onto the boy's head. "Come back tomorrow. Gather in as many coins again and there shall be one in it for you.”

  Will thought the man might be a master of legerdemain, but certes he was no mind reader. Why, Will knew himself to be a thief and a liar who would take off with the coins, given the chance, and not look back.

  Tobias of Froggenhall narrowed his eyes. "I shall keep close watch on you, boy.”

  Faugh! He was a mind reader after all. "I shall be here, good sir,” Will said. Then, recalling his decision to get coins first: "Might you give me that penny now, in case circumstances require that you leave the fair in a hurry?”

  The man rubbed his hands together, reached out, and pulled a penny from the air. "Go and find something more fit to eat than a raw egg,” he said, handing the coin to the boy and taking the egg. "And come back tomorrow when the sun is overhead.”

  Will bit the penny. He did not know exactly why, but it was something he had seen the innkeeper do. It tasted real to him. "I will return,” he said, "but first I do look to know how you made that egg fly.”

  "As you be my partner, young master...” The man stopped and looked quizzically at Will.

  "Will Sparrow,” said Will.

  "As you be my partner, Will Sparrow, I will tell you.” The man produced the egg from his sleeve and held it aloft. "Here be the egg you examined, and here”—another egg appeared in his other hand—"be the egg that flew, blown empty and pulled about by a hair attached with candle wax.”

  "In truth?”

  "You must see beyond what you see, not look where I bid you look,” the conjurer said. He clapped his hands and both eggs disappeared. "Look behind the obvious and see what I do not want you to see.” Will recalled how Nell had diverted him with her kindness while she stole his belongings. He nodded in understanding.

  The boy left Master Tobias and hurried off to find some supper as the day dwindled into evening. What might be offered that would suit both his belly and his purse?

  There were stalls aplenty laden with meat pies and wedges of cheese, soups and stews and sausages, currant buns, and apples dipped in honey, but they were well watched. He would have to spend his penny.

  "Here to me, here to me,” a baker called to Will. "I be High Steward to the Stomach and Purveyor of the Pastry. Come see what delicacies I have to satisfy and delight you.” Will traded his coin for a half mug of perry and a raisin tart, and he ducked behind a nearby stall to eat.

  His belly at last full of tart and perry, he sat on a wicker hamper and fell asleep, the sounds of the fair playing in his dreams like music. Nell Liftpurse was in the dream, pulling eggs from the air, a
nd Master Tobias made Will's father disappear.

  By and by a thud nearby startled his eyes open, and he saw in the growing darkness a shape looming. The thing drew closer, and Will peered at it. His heart stopped and then began to thump. 'Twas some sort of monster, hairy and misshapen, wrapped in a blue cloak! The monster lumbered toward him, but Will was backed up against a wagon with nowhere to run.

  God save me from creatures that stalk the night, he prayed as he threw his mug at the fiend and, putting his head down, shoved his way past. He heard it howling behind him but did not stop. He ran through the crowds, dodging visitors and merchants and acrobats, dogs and donkeys and gaggles of robustious youngsters.

  He stopped to catch his breath. To his surprise, people were still whooping and laughing, enjoying the wonders of the fair and seemingly unafraid of any blue-cloaked monster. He lost himself in the crowd, feeling safe among numbers. A group of musicians played before the gingerbread stall, and Will curled up behind. He watched a long while but no one, human or creature, came near him, and soon he slept again, fitfully, beset by dreams of monsters and angry shopkeepers and his body tied like a cooking pot to a donkey.

  SIX

  ENCOUNTERING ODDITIES

  AND PRODIGIES AND VARIOUS

  OBJECTS OF WONDER

  "TWAS A monster, in sooth,” Will told the conjurer the next day, "a hideous, hairy monster with eyes that glowed red and teeth that dripped blood.” Will shuddered to remember. "Ten foot tall it was, wrapped in a blue cloak that could not disguise its monstrosity. And it came at me with evil intent.”

  The magician pulled a pigeon from the air and put it in a basket. "Belike you were dreaming, boy.”

  "Nay, sir, no dream but a true monster. Here at the fair.”

  "I will keep watch for your monster,” the man said as he made the basket and the pigeon disappear. "You go and convince the good folk hereabout to come and witness my amazing feats of legerdemain. There shall be an extra penny in it for you.”

  Will cleared his throat and called to passersby, "See a conjurer. Watch an egg fly.”

  "Nay, not so!” said the conjurer with a pinch on Will's arm. "Tell them of my great feats of illusion and spectacles of conjuring. Lure them!” He shoved Will forward into the crowd.

  Hungry again, Will walked the fair, peering over his shoulder and behind trees for monsters as he went, calling, as he had heard the fair vendors call, "Here to me, here to me. Come see the Lord of Legerdemain, the Prince of Prestidigitation. Witness spectacles of conjuring that will astound you and fill you with wonder. At the old yew tree near the cheesemonger.”

  When enough of a crowd had gathered around Tobias of Froggenhall, he began. He juggled scarves and produced cards from his empty hands. He hid balls beneath mugs, made them vanish, and then pulled them from people's ears and noses. He swallowed a handkerchief and found it in an egg, turned eggs into birds and birds into eggs, and threatened to make a screaming child disappear.

  Will gaped at the extraordinary doings and had to be reminded by a pinch on his arm to pass his cap. He found that fawning and flattery yielded even more coins than a grin and a salute. He called merchants your lordship and young men master and gave everyone his best fresh-faced, innocent smile. "I thank you, young mistress,” he said to an overdressed, overpainted, over-old woman, and she added another coin.

  The conjurer nodded at the coins in Will's cap and handed him two pennies. "I have business in town but will be here tomorrow noonday. Come back and there shall be more coins for you.”

  Will nodded. Two pennies! He hurried to the gingerbread seller and bought a large piece of gingerbread, then to a foodmonger for cheese and a pear—and a handful of cherry comfits when the stall keeper wasn't looking.

  He ate as he walked through the fair, inspecting the crowd—women in brightly colored kirtles or starched ruffs, men in smocks and wooden clogs or padded doublets and fine leather boots. Small, ragged children pushed through the crowds, pulling at people's clothes, begging "Someut to eat?” and "A penny, sir, a penny.” Pitiful, mewling weaklings, Will thought. He himself would never end up so, sniveling and begging. He was bold and quick-witted and could care for himself. Why God had created the poor Will did not know, but he was grateful that he was not among them.

  Wiping his now-empty hands on his breeches, he stopped to watch a rope dancer somersault on a rope and balance a sword on his nose. Wrestlers struggled in the nearby grass. A tumbler flipped and flew through hoops and over men's heads while ballad singers sang the newest news and the oldest stories.

  Shouts and cheers came from behind the leather stalls, and a mysterious thwack thwack thwack. Will pushed his way through a small crowd to see what was worth cheering.

  In a field, a man in red with feathered cap called, "You, goodmen, come test your skill! Prizes to the fastest archer and the most true. Can you hit the mark?” Archers were drawing great wooden bows and loosing arrows at wooden casks set up as targets. Arrows were stabbed upright into the ground at each man's feet so he could pull and nock them quickly, then, pressing the whole weight of his body into the horns of his bow, let the arrow loose, thwack.

  "Let me try,” Will said to a big man with a long bow and a short neck.

  "Aye, lad,” the man said with a laugh, "in forty years or more, when you be as tall as this bow.”

  "Or even the arrow,” said another.

  Biting his lip, Will stood as tall as he could. "Shooting an arrow could not be so difficult if a lackwit like yourself can do it,” he said to the man with the long bow. The man smiled, shrugged, and handed Will the bow.

  The bow was taller than the boy, so he rested it on the ground. He took an arrow, nocked it into the bowstring, and pulled back the string. Nay, he tried to pull back the string. He struggled and strained, and then, pressing the weight of his body into the bow as he had seen the men do, he loosed the arrow. It fell useless at his feet, and the men watching burst into great hoots of laughter.

  "Go home to your mam, brat,” said the big man as he took the bow, "and come back when you're man sized.” Turning to leave, the laughter ringing in his ears, Will knocked over the man's tankard of ale with a small kick.

  "My ale! Watch yourself, boy.”

  Will stumbled and careened through the crowd of archers, kicking over ale mugs as he went. Now 'tis my turn to laugh, he thought, and as the men cursed at him and sorted out the mess, he walked away.

  O woe and lackaday, he lamented—when would he be too tall for taunts and teasing? How could he make himself grow? He walked on, kicking at the dusty path and anything that got in his way.

  "Oddities and prodigies of all sorts here are seen! Strange things from nature!”

  The caller, standing before a painted canvas booth, was a small boy. Smaller even than Will. But an oddly shaped boy, with short arms and legs and a massive head. Will went closer for a better look. The boy proved no boy at all but a man, wrinkled and bearded, with a nose like a turnip and great bushy eyebrows as yellow as his hair. Never had Will seen such a strange man. Or was he no man at all but instead a troll or an evil dwarf such as were used in tales to frighten children?

  The man had a back wide and strong stuffed into a tattered brown doublet and thick and powerful legs in trunk hose of scarlet that bagged at the knees. "Behold true wonders and marvels for only a penny,” he called in a voice both thin and rough. "One single penny.”

  Will stood and watched. Those coming and going into the canvas booth did not seem afeared of the little man. They stared at him, taunted him, mocked and generally bedeviled him, and while his face turned dark with anger, he said nothing and did nothing to lead Will to believe he was dangerous. Will went closer.

  Finally the man addressed Will. "You, boy, there, come see the prodigies. Only a penny.”

  Will stared. "In sooth you must be the smallest, ugliest person in the world.”

  "And you, young sirrah, would be the rudest,” the little man said. "Wish you to see the wonder room? E
nter, if you have the coin and the courage.” And then he shouted to others standing about, "Come and see the wonder room! Only one penny.” Two gentlemen in fine doublets so padded and stuffed that they moved only with difficulty paid their pennies and then, escorting a woman between them, entered the booth.

  Will was curious to discover just what oddities and prodigies and objects of wonder were. "I would enter, but I have but a ha'penny left,” he said.

  The little man frowned. "Ha'penny perhaps for a one-eyed man to enter. A penny for such as yourself with two.”

  Will turned away. There be other ways in besides a front gate, he knew. He dawdled near the entrance until he saw the three previous visitors hurry out, the woman with faltering steps and a handkerchief held to her nose. He skittered behind her skirts and in, as easy as eating beef pie.

  Will was alone in a space a bit larger than a sleeping chamber at the inn, comfortable for perhaps ten people, if the women's skirts were not too wide. The booth was open to the midday sky, but clouds kept it dim and Will had to squint to see through the gloom. All was silence within, and there was a foul smell of things wretched and dead. From one wall hung an assortment of stuffed animals, preserved fish, antlers, and turtle shells. On the other side stood a long, rough sort of table, on which various bottles, bones, and specimens were arranged.

  He lifted crocks of mysterious liquids, examined bones and teeth, and wondered at the origin of a massive skull. Some of the objects were accompanied by labels. Having had a year of dame school before a rude word and a lost hornbook drove him out, Will could read when necessary, so, slowly and without comprehending all the words, he was able to identify those.