A Spotlight for Harry (2 page)

Time had never seemed so long. Minutes had never passed so slowly. Harry could not pull his eyes away from the top of the circus tent, where Monsieur Weitzman slowly turned round and round, first one way, then another, like a fish caught on a line.

At last, it was over. The rope lowered. The band began to play. Monsieur Weitzman stood beside the ringmaster, taking his bows. Harry didn’t clap or cheer. He sat frozen in his seat, as if in a trance.

He felt someone shaking him. It was Dash. “Harry, are you all right?” his brother asked.

Harry nodded. It took several moments before he could speak. “That was the most amazing thing I ever saw!” he exclaimed. “How did he do it?”

“Who knows? You won’t see me trying that,” Dash replied. “Isn’t the circus great?
Doesn’t it make you wish we had our own circus here in Appleton? We wouldn’t have to wait all year for the circus to come. We could go and see the show anytime we liked.”

“Dash! What a great idea!” Harry exclaimed.

“What did I say?” Dash asked. He wasn’t sure what Harry was talking about.

“A circus here in Appleton. A circus of our own!” Harry replied. “Only we won’t have to buy tickets. We’ll be the show.”

I
t took a long time for Harry to fall asleep that night. When he finally closed his eyes, he had circus dreams.

Harry dreamed he was back in the big tent. He saw the clowns, the bareback riders, and the acrobats. All the performers had his face. It was a circus of Harrys! Then Monsieur Jean Weitzman stepped onto the high wire. But it wasn’t Monsieur Weitzman at all. It was Harry Weiss, dancing, twirling,
performing somersaults high in the air.

The audience watched and applauded.
They’re clapping for me!
Harry thought. He looked down from the high wire and made a deep bow. To his surprise, he was bowing to himself. A Harry Weiss filled every seat under the big top. The Harrys stamped their feet, cheering, “Hooray for Harry! The greatest of all!”

Harry stood up. He threw his arms wide to accept their praise. “Thank you all! Thank you, my friends!”

“Harry! Cut that out! I’m trying to sleep.” Harry heard Dash’s voice, but he couldn’t see him. What was Dash doing in Harry’s circus? The tightrope began to wobble. Harry fought to keep his balance. He felt himself falling. Down, down, down …

Harry sat up in bed. The room was dark, except for a sliver of moonlight shining
through the window. The Harry circus had vanished. It was all a dream, except for Dash, who was very real and very annoyed.

“Ow, Harry! Why’d you hit me in the face? That hurt! I hope you didn’t give me a black eye,” Dash said.

“I’m sorry, Dash,” said Harry. “I didn’t mean to hit you. I didn’t even know I was hitting you. I was having a dream.”

Dash pressed his fingers against his right eye. “It feels better now. I don’t mind sharing the bed with you, but why do you have to beat me up every time you have a dream? Why don’t you dream a nice dream for once?”

“This was a terrific dream, Dash!” Harry said. “I wish you could have been there with me. I was back at the circus. And guess what! I was the star of the show. I was dancing way, way up on the high wire, just like Monsieur
Weitzman did, and all the people were cheering.…”

Dash listened closely, his eyes wide open, as Harry told him about the dream. He described it with such detail that Dash could see it as clearly as if he’d dreamed it himself. By the time Harry finished, Dash was too excited to sleep.

“Gosh, Harry,” he said, “can a dream like that come true? Could we be circus stars someday?”

“Why not?” said Harry. He leaned back on the pillows with his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. “Remember that story Papa told us in the synagogue last Saturday? The one about Jacob and how he dreamed about a ladder that went all the way up to heaven? Like Papa said, if you believe in dreams, there’s no telling how far or how high they can take you.”

“Take
us
, you mean. You’re not going alone. I’m coming, too,” said Dash as both boys drifted off to sleep.

Dreaming is easy. Making dreams come true is more difficult. The circus was in town until the end of the week. Harry and Dash made the most of it.

It was July, so there was no school. Papa was busy in his study or at the synagogue. Mama had her day filled with cooking, cleaning, and taking care of Gladys and Leopold. After Harry and Dash finished their chores, they could do what they liked. What they liked doing was hanging around the circus.

Harry and Dash raced to the field outside town where the circus pitched its tents. They talked with the clowns, the jugglers, the acrobats. They hauled water for the animals. They cleaned stalls. They carried bales
of hay and straw. Most important for Harry, they had the chance to speak with Monsieur Weitzman, the tightrope walker.

Dressed in ordinary clothes, he seemed much smaller to Harry and Dash. “It’s always
that way,” Monsieur Weitzman explained. He brewed a pot of tea on the cookstove outside the mess tent. “That’s why circus people love to perform. We become larger than life when the spotlight hits us.”

Larger than life! Harry liked the sound of that. He wanted to be larger than life, too. “What’s your secret?” he asked Monsieur Weitzman.

“Secret, Harry?” Monsieur Weitzman said. “Do you believe I have magic glue on my feet that lets me stick to the rope?”

“Well, maybe not glue, but there must be a secret,” Harry said. “How else could you walk across the whole big top on a rope and not fall down?”

“Yeah,” said Dash. “Tell us, Monsieur Weitzman. We won’t let anyone else know. We promise.”

Monsieur Weitzman smiled as he poured tea from the round yellow pot into three cups on a table. “If you really want to know, I’ll tell you. Lean closer, boys. I’ll whisper it in your ears.”

Harry and Dash leaned over the table to
hear what Monsieur Weitzman had to say.

“Are you ready?” he began. “It’s hard work and practice. Most important, you have to set your mind. If you believe you can do something and you practice every chance you get, one day you will do it. That’s the secret.”

“That’s all there is to it? Just practice? You mean … if we practice hard, we can learn to walk the tightrope just like you?” Harry asked.

“That’s what I said,” Monsieur Weitzman replied. He tapped his forehead. “It’s all up here. Oh, there are a few other things to keep in mind. Never look down. That’s important. Also, start practicing on a rope that isn’t too high off the ground. You’re going to fall many times. Falling two feet is better than falling fifty feet.” He winked at the boys as he said that.

Harry and Dash didn’t wink back. What Monsieur Weitzman had just told them was too important to be a joke. It was as important as the words their father spoke in the synagogue every Saturday.

“Believe in yourself. If you think you can do it, you can.” Harry repeated the words over and over in his mind as he sipped the tea. He would write them down when he got home so he wouldn’t forget them. Believe in yourself, and you can make any dream come true. Believe in yourself, and you can do anything.

H
arry and Dash walked home from the circus. Now that Monsieur Weitzman had given them the key, they were ready to unlock the door. They were determined to become tightrope walkers.

“First, we need a place to practice,” Harry decided.

“How about in the backyard?” Dash suggested. “The ground is soft from all the rain we had last month. We wouldn’t get hurt if
we fell. We could run a rope between the two trees where Mama strings her clothesline. What do you think, Harry?”

Harry shook his head. “It won’t work.”

“Huh?” Dash said. “Why? What’s wrong with it?”

“Plenty,” Harry said. “To start with, it’s too close to the house. Mama would have a fit if she saw what we were doing. Papa would make us take down the rope and promise never, ever to do it again. And we’d have to keep that promise because Papa’s a rabbi. Lying to him would be like lying to God. See what I mean?”

“Yeah,” Dash agreed. “Then how are we going to find a place to practice? Do you have any ideas?”

“No,” said Harry, “but there must be a place in town where we can practice without Mama and Papa finding out. Once we
get really good at walking the tightrope, we’ll show them what we can do. They’ll realize they don’t have to worry about us breaking our necks. After that, we can put on our circus!”

Dash shoved his hands in his pockets. He and Harry walked along, heads lowered. Where could they find a place to practice without anyone seeing them? They were thinking so hard that they didn’t notice their teacher, Miss Purdy, coming toward them.

“Good afternoon, Harry. Good afternoon, Dash.” Miss Purdy smiled as she greeted them.

The boys mumbled, “Hello,” and kept walking.

“Stop right there, both of you!”

Harry and Dash stopped in their tracks. They turned around. Miss Purdy was no longer smiling. “Boys, that was extremely
rude,” she said. “I’m disappointed with you. Especially with you, Harry. You should know better. You should be setting an example for your younger brother.”

“Gosh, Miss Purdy!” Harry exclaimed. “What did I do?”

“It’s what you didn’t do,” Miss Purdy went on. “Remember last month in school when we talked about having good manners? Good manners aren’t just for when we’re in school. We have to practice them wherever we are. Now, when two young gentlemen like yourselves meet a lady, you don’t mumble and go on your way, as you both did. You stop, look her in the eye, and give a pleasant greeting. You might say, ‘Good day,’ or, ‘How nice to see you.’ Either one will do.”

“We know that, Miss Purdy,” said Harry.

“Knowing about good manners isn’t
enough, Harry,” Miss Purdy said. “You have to practice them. What matters isn’t what you know. It’s what you do. I hope you’ll both do better the next time we meet.”

“We will, Miss Purdy,” Harry promised. Miss Purdy smiled at the boys. She continued on her way.

“Good day. Good morning. How nice to meet you.” Dash mimicked his teacher as soon as she was far enough away not to hear him. “What a fuss over nothing!”

“Maybe,” said Harry. “But I just had an idea. Miss Purdy lives with her aunt, Mrs. Herrick, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah,” said Dash. “So what?”

“Mrs. Herrick has that old barn in the field behind her house. That might be just what we need. Come on, and do what I do.” Harry took off running down the street. Dash followed at his heels.

The boys ran around the block. They turned the corner just as Miss Purdy came down the street. This time Harry was a perfect gentleman, despite being out of breath. He stopped, took off his hat, and performed a sweeping bow. It was the same one he had seen the circus performers do for the audience. Dash, copying Harry, did the same.

“Good day, Miss Purdy. How nice to see you,” Harry said.

“G-good afternoon, Miss Purdy. Likewise,” Dash stammered. He kept one eye on Harry and the other on Miss Purdy.

Miss Purdy smiled. She nodded to Harry first, then to Dash. “I’m proud of you boys,” she said. “You see, showing good manners isn’t hard. You can both be perfect gentlemen. It only takes a little effort.”