How the Stars did Fall (22 page)

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Authors: Paul F Silva

BOOK: How the Stars did Fall
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“That’s not proper talk at the table and with a guest no less. It’s time we stop coddling him for fear of him disappearing again,” Luke said.

“He disappeared?” Olivia asked.

“More than once. Just vanished. Comes back a few months later looking like some dirty wild thing. Never gives us any explanation. In fact, he refuses to speak of it at all. Doesn’t even say sorry. But he’s a good worker when he’s not mouthing off or disappearing.”

After dinner Olivia took a piece of paper and wrote out those things she required for her act and handed it to Jason, who read it and dutifully went off to procure the items. Olivia spent the rest of the evening holed up in Mecklenburg’s old tent with Molly. The two of them ruffled through a storehouse of things that had been left behind. In one chest, she found various curious utensils. A silver paten, a bronze triquetra, a knife with a black handle, a wooden chalice leafed in gold on the inside, and a white-handled sickle, its sharp edge still carrying a strong smell of herbs and soil.

“I’ve seen things like this before,” Molly said.

In another chest they found many pieces of rectangular glass, each one bearing a hand-painted illustration. All kinds of things were depicted on these slides. Grotesque monsters, horned demons, skulls and crossed bones. A few of them had whole scenes painted on of men in wigs and old-fashioned dress in front of some palace or other. Very French. Deep in the chest Olivia found a few that bore images of women naked and in baths and a few that showed these women together embracing as lovers. Then in a drawer she found a few black-and-white photographs and daguerreotypes the same size as the slides. Real photographs of people and places far from the West. Of cities Olivia could not identify and beaches and the inside of a restaurant, the diners frozen eternal, their forks still hanging in midair. These slides Olivia carried over to the back of the tent, where the magic lantern had been set up. She examined the machine. A white piece of cloth had been hung from the tent to serve as the screen onto which the lantern would project its image. Olivia positioned the machine such that its aperture lined up with the screen, and taking one of the scariest slides she could find she inserted it inside. And while she stood over it, she realized that no light source had been provided and the lantern could not be turned on.

By nightfall Ah Toy and Molly had come into the tent and helped to clean the place up and it was now almost ready for opening the next day. When Jason arrived laden with those things Olivia required, she exhaled in relief.

“I want people to feel like they’re stepped into a different world, almost. Or at least a place of mystery and antiquity.”

She wanted the tent partitioned in three. Visitors would move through each partition in order, starting with the one where Molly would welcome the visitors and act as their guide. After that they would move into the middle section of the tent, where the magic lantern would be put to work. And for the final act, they would enter into the sanctum sanctorum, where Olivia would levitate the glass and leave the guests terrified and ecstatic and happy to part with fifty whole cents for the experience. Everyone thought the plan brilliant, but they did not know how to get the magic lantern to function.

So Jason went out and returned with a Drummond light that he attached to the machine. Then he asked that all of the candles be blown out and when he turned the thing on it was pitch black in the tent and the incandescent brightness of the Drummond light brought to life the shimmering image in the slide. An apparition of waves and mist, an eyeless face, ancient in its bearing as if it had not been born from the imagination of man but carried up from the vents inside the earth, a terrible and malicious vapor.

This vision made Ah Toy and Molly and even Olivia shield their eyes for a moment in fear despite knowing the apparition’s origin and unreality. The novelty of the machine was such that it made Olivia believe for a moment that the thing was not a trick of light but something real ventured over to this realm from another. It stood over them for only a few moments before Jason turned the Drummond light off and the whole tent fell into complete darkness.

That test finished, everyone went about their business. Olivia had a quick supper and then retired to the sleeping quarters. On the way she passed by other tents, other laborers making their own preparations. In one of these three women walked sultry upon a stage and grabbed on to a pole that had been erected there. They wore little clothing, only a few straps of satin covering their most intimate parts. Olivia paused to admire their graceful movement but soon noticed that another person looked on at the same sight through a flap on the opposite side of the tent. Olivia squinted and could just make out Jason’s face. Then he saw her too, catching her eyes in his and withdrawing in embarrassment.

All through the night, rain fell in torrents upon the tarps, waking Olivia, and for a long while she lay with her eyes closed, listening. It sounded like many pebbles being thrown down from the sky. Soon the repetitive sound became familiar to Olivia, and her mind ceased to regard it with interest and she fell back into sleep. But her sleep was not peaceful, for she shook in bed and then she dreamt. Nightmares out of the deep. A leviathan she saw, hideous and vast, breaching the skin of a sea and rising, borne up by a pair of wings that threatened to block out the sun. She screamed at the sight, a high banshee’s call that woke the whole tent. After that, Olivia could not return to her slumber. She feared what other visions awaited her once she closed her eyes.

“Have an anodyne to help you sleep,” Ah Toy said. “You will feel your mind numb and you will forget what it is to dream.”

The medicine resided in a little opaque bottle and Olivia took it and uncorked it and let the liquid fall into her throat. It tasted bitter yet fresh like biting into a piece of raw endive. At first she felt nothing. Then a sort of lightness propagated up from her spine into the base of her head and her extremities tingled a bit and she began to blink rapidly, until she could no longer hold her eyelids up and sleep conquered her completely.

When she awoke, she felt as if she had been out for only a moment, such was the stillness of her slumber. But her eyes contradicted her, for the tent that had previously been dark but for the light of a few candles now could not contain the sunlight outside. The flaps that guarded the entrance into the tent had been fixed open and it shone brightly. Olivia had to shield her eyes for a moment, giving her pupils time to recalibrate themselves. Once the light no longer smarted her eyes, she let her arm fall to her side and sat up on the bed. The tent was empty save for the person that sat next to Olivia, a girl in a dress, holding up a newspaper that covered half her body.

Olivia audibly cleared her throat. The girl folded her newspaper. It was Molly.

“By God, you’re awake,” Molly said.

“What time is it?”

“Half past eleven last I checked. We thought you were out for good. Well, some of us did. What did Ah Toy give you, anyway? I think you best not take any more of her tonics. The woman’s old and raving.”

“Whatever it was seems it did its job. At the same time I don’t feel as though I slept as much as I did. In fact, I feel as if I hadn’t slept much at all. I should get up and have some coffee, see if I can get the lethargy out of my limbs.”

“I believe you. It’s unnatural, to sleep with the help of these tonics.”

The two of them walked over to the breakfast table. All of the cutlery and the platters had been stowed already but Molly said she had asked the cook to save something for Olivia.

“Wait here,” Molly said and left to go fetch it. She came back with a plate of cornbread and sausage and a mug of coffee. Olivia scarfed the food down, barely stopping to breathe, much less talk. But Molly had a worried look on her face and Olivia paused for a moment to take a swig of coffee and ask her what was wrong.

“Ah, I don’t know. Just a feeling. I don’t like it here. Don’t like these people. How long do you believe we ought to remain here?”

“So long as we need to raise enough money to buy horses and a wagon and supplies. Then we’ll set off.”

“Then we ought get to work.”

“Do you doubt me, Molly?”

“No, not after the things I’ve seen. It’s just that when I was a girl I dreamt of having magic powers. I even read a few books and the like. Then I left that behind me as I grew. But now that I’ve seen real power up close I feel as though I wish I hadn’t. Because it fills me with dread. What else could lie hidden in the world? What other powers still undiscovered?”

“That is what we will find out together.”

The whole carnival heaved in labor as men groaned and yelled and carried things to and fro, their brown shirts stained by sweat, and after having breakfast Olivia joined them. She worked with the other girls to finish setting up the space inside her tent and she asked Jason to paint over H.L. Mecklenberg’s name. So he came by Olivia’s tent sometime after midday bearing a bucket of paint on which a pair of different-sized brushes lay crossed. He stood at the entrance to the tent admiring the signage when Olivia came out to greet him.

“So what do you need done?” he asked.

“I need that man’s name painted over.”

“What do you want written instead?”

“I don’t know. What do you think I should have written?”

“Well, you could just put your name up there. What’s your full name?”

“Olivia McKinnis.”

“That name’s a bit boring. We could put up a title for your show instead.”

“How about ‘The Astonishing Olivia,’ or ‘The Incredible Olivia’?”

“I knew a bearded woman once called herself astonishing. Ended up killing herself. I reckon you ought to take the opportunity to tell people out here what it is they can expect in there.”

“I just figured it out. I’ll call it ‘The Myriad Wonders of Atlantis.’”

“I rather like it. Enticing. I could paint on some symbols, if you’d like. A seashell or a starfish.”

“Excellent.”

While Jason began to work on the tent’s exterior, Olivia crossed into it and told the other girls about the attraction’s name. They had their doubts but went along once Olivia had laid out her full vision. She imagined the tent fully decorated with the debris of wrecked naval vessels, seaweed and fish corpses and green mermaid’s tails.

Olivia went outside to see how far along Jason’s work was.

“Just about done,” he said. “How about you?”

“I think I’m nearly done as well.”

“When you going to change?”

“Change?”

“You’re not going to perform wearing that, are you? I never heard of anyone from Atlantis but I’m sure they didn’t wear anything like you’re wearing.”

“You’re right, but where could I procure costumes now?”

“You see that tent yonder?” He pointed. “Go and find Roberta. She has all kinds of clothes. Reckon you may find something suitable there.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Roberta’s tent was the most elaborately decorated tent of them all. The entire exterior of the tarp had been intricately designed and embroidered with flowers and wavy lines in red and yellow and purple until it resembled a giant gaudy dress propped up by some invisible hanger. Inside the tent Olivia found a thin and petite woman bent over a sewing machine.

“Roberta?”

“Yes?” Roberta looked at her visitor, short and with raggedy hair framing her wrinkled face. “Ah, you’re the new girl. I hear you’ve got a quite a talent for illusions.”

“I have a talent, yes. My father taught me how to do it, I mean.”

“Well, hopefully you’ll do better than old Mecklenberg. Man couldn’t draw a crowd to save his life. But I did enjoy his company at times. He was an interesting man.”

“Ma’am, I was told you could let me borrow a few costumes for my show?”

“Were you? What kind of costumes are you looking for? We don’t have anything too elaborate.”

“The theme of the show is Atlantis.”

“Never heard of it.”

“I don’t expect you’ll have anything to match that theme very closely, nor would I know if it did when I saw it. Something old-fashioned would be sufficient. Something that looks ancient Roman or Greek.”

“I’ve got a couple of togas. And a wreath. A wreath of mistletoe, I believe.”

“That sounds acceptable.”

“Then come in, girl. Let the flap fall shut. The bright sun gives me headaches.”

With a measuring tape in hand, Roberta nudged Olivia to stand in front of a mirror. Olivia was not tall but next to this woman she looked nearly a giant. Roberta pressed one end of the tape against the crown of Olivia’s head and let the rest of it uncoil until the other end touched the floor.

“Hold this,” Roberta said and Olivia held the tape. Then Roberta kneeled and tensed the tape, making a note of Olivia’s height.

“Stretch out your arms.”

Olivia did, and with the tape Roberta measured Olivia from the tips of one hand to the other.

“Is this really necessary?” Olivia asked.

“Probably not, but habits are habits.” Roberta opened the doors to a big dresser and rummaged in it looking for the items she desired. She pulled out one white toga and folded it in her arms. Then she pulled another and did the same and then another.

“How many do you need?” she asked.

“Three will do.”

Roberta nodded and with her one empty arm she delved into the dresser.

“Alright. Take off your clothes. Let’s see if it fits.”

“My clothes?”

“Indeed.”

Olivia undressed, her cheeks reddening once she had removed the last piece of clothing. Roberta unfurled one of the togas and looked it over.

“This one should do,” she said and placed it over Olivia’s head, letting the fabric flow over Olivia’s body. Then she looked over her work and found that it was lacking in a few places. Her adjustments were quick, her fingers pulling and pinching the fabric in strategic locations and inserting a pin near Olivia’s left breast to hold the whole thing together.

“There, now. Is that how the people of Atlantis looked?”

“I don’t know.”

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