Magruder's Curiosity Cabinet (29 page)

Little Girl

“Stupid boys!” Timur blocks the tavern doorway. “What do you think you are doing?”

Digby stands at the door with Whitey flung over his shoulder. Zeph climbs up the side of the door so he can face Timur directly. “It's pretty simple, Doc. These folks are sick, and Spencer promised 'em medicine. We have medicine.”

“Spencer is dead! Any minute, Committee is coming, burn our home to the ground.”

“If we ain't careful, nobody'll be able to reach our home 'cause of all the dead bodies in the street. We can't just let them—”

“We have no time for play hospital.”

“He's right,” Archie calls, lurking in the back.

“
Silenzio
!” Enzo approaches the door, and Rosalind follows. “The people need help; we help the people.”

“Darling,” Rosalind says. “The people have the Cough. We don't.”

Zeph nods. “Ros has a point. We should all take doses of Nazan's cure, every one of us, just to be safe.”

Kitty has heard the commotion from upstairs and comes down to see what's going on. “Is everything all right?”

“Kitty,” Rosalind says as gently as he can. “How is your mother?”

“Much the same, I'm afraid. Why?”

“Don't you see, Zeph? That cure, as you call it, has yet to work on even
one
person. We have no way of knowing if—”

Zeph replies, “Only one way to find out. Besides, if Magruder's is a plague hospital, maybe they won't be so quick to set it on fire.”

“Don't bet on it,” Rosalind counters. “We don't have time for—”

“Actually,” Digby interrupts, “he's the one who doesn't have time.”

Whitey writhes in pain, murmuring, “Zeph… Where's Zeph?”

Zeph reaches over with one hand and squeezes Whitey's leg. “It's all right, brother. You just hang on.”

“Zeph, darling,” Rosalind says, “I know he's your friend. But what's the point of bringing him inside so he can die in a fire?”

“Fire?” Whitey whispers. “What fire? I'm the fire chief. Where's the fire?”

Zeph says, “Shh, don't worry yourself, Whitey.”

“Oh, we got fires,” he says, dazed. “Beautiful fires. We burn at 10:30, 12:00, 1:30, 3:00, 4:30, and 6:00. Special show Saturdays at 8:00, with extra victims…”

“Shh, now, Whitey. This ain't that kinda fire. This is a real fire.”

“Wait,” Kitty says slowly. “What if it wasn't? What if it wasn't a
real
fire at all?”

Everyone at the door frowns in confusion. Zeph shakes his head. “What are you even—?”

But Archie nods. “I
knew
she had potential.”

• • •

Gibson tries to direct the Committeemen loading the big, white vehicle. But wherever they need to be is invariably the exact place he happens to be standing. He gets pushed and shoved so many times, he starts to wonder if they are doing it on purpose. He walks farther away and leans against a tall, wooden fence that marks the outer limits of the park.

Never mind them
, he tells himself.
Just this one errand, and I'm off to Newport to deliver the good news.
Perhaps there will be a ball going on, incense drifting down from chandeliers as big as automobiles, all the heiresses decked out in ermine and silk. And the senator will greet him with open arms, embracing him, whispering in his ear,
I wish I had a son like you.

Laughter. He glares at the Committeemen, but they all seem occupied with the vehicle—if they are laughing at Gibson, it's on the inside. But this is explosive, unrestrained laughter, right behind him.

Behind me?
Gibson turns to the fence. A pack of hyenas shoves their snouts between the slats, slobbering, chortling, staring up at Gib with dead, black eyes. He jumps away, cringing.

Spotting the hyenas, the men reach for their pistols, firing
pow pow pow
at the slobbering beasts. The men climb the fence to give chase, while the hyenas hit by gunfire curl up on the ground, bleeding and whimpering.

“No!” Gibson shouts, suddenly brave. He turns to the one Committee officer who stayed behind. “We're going to Magruder's!”

“Sure,” the officer replies, “but they gotta take care of that first. Hyenas are nasty. We can't let 'em run around free.”

“But…they're just dogs!”

“Dogs built by Satan, maybe. There ain't many animals I'd
less
wanna run into than a pack of starving hyenas.” The officer chuckles, tossing another pile of mattress covers into the vehicle. “Of course, they really seem to like you.”

Gibson grunts and wipes some sweat from his eyes. “I'm going to wait inside. Let me know when the hunt is over.”

• • •

Kitty quickly assembles a crew of the least-ill Unusuals, and together they race around Magruder's, gathering blankets and pillows and yanking tarps off windows. They set up beds on tables, on the floor, on a few chairs set side by side. No sooner is a bed created than some desperate soul collapses into it.

“Rosalind,” she says, “could you show some of these people up to your room? I bet we could fit several in your bed if we try.”

Rosalind shudders. “Oh, now, I don't think—”

“We can't leave them on the street, surely!”

“I'm certainly not putting them in—”

Enzo coughs at Rosalind meaningfully.

Rosalind sighs. “All right, all right. Honestly. Those are my best sheets too.”

• • •

Zeph, Kitty, and Archie quiz Whitey on the workings of Lilliputia's fire show, and between coughing fits, Whitey tries his best to explain. But his description makes less and less sense as he gets closer and closer to passing out.

“Never mind.” Archie groans. “Somebody find the midget a bed, will you? We'll figure it out ourselves. Half of Dreamland is here at the Cabinet. There has to be somebody who—”

A young woman with long, dark hair steps forward. “Excuse me, perhaps I can help? I'm in the tenement fire show. I fall out that window about thirty times a week. I can tell you how it works.”

Kitty grabs her hands. “Brilliant! There's gas, is that it? In the windows?”

“Right, there are holes drilled in the sills for the pipes and fuses. Light the gas, and it looks like fire shooting out of the windows.”

Kitty looks at Zeph. “Have we any gas?”

“Sure,” he replies. “Timur's lab has gas piped in, and we got a big tank of the stuff out back.”

“This will be easy enough.” Kitty grins.

“Not really,” Archie says. “Unless we have enough pipe to run from a centrally located tank to every window in this building
and
the time to solder it all together.”

Zeph shrugs. “I'm thinking no and no.”

“Hmm.” Kitty frowns. “What about smaller tanks? One per room, maybe? Far less pipe that way, less soldering.”

Zeph nods. “This we can do. If you check in back of the tavern, there's a storeroom with a pile of empty ten-gallon canisters. I was supposed to fill 'em with helium for Timur's lights, but I never got around to it.”

“Pardon?” Archie says. “Helium for lights?”

“Long story. Just grab the tanks and fill 'em up out at… Oh. Damn.”

“
Oh damn
what?”

“Gas tank's buried in the backyard.” He shrugs apologetically. “Where the leopards are.”

Archie sighs. “I love this plan more and more.”

“Oh, Vivi?” Kitty calls. “Mademoiselle Vivi, we need you.”

Satisfied that Kitty has the situation in hand, Zeph gives her a nod and heads up the stairs to join Nazan in the lab. He stops suddenly, leaning over the railing. “Hey, English! Make sure you grab the empty tanks and not the one full of naphtha. Powers my cart something beautiful, but naphtha ain't an especially polite little gas—I don't think we want it shooting out the windows.”

“Got it,” Kitty calls back. “All right, everyone. Who'd like to assist me in the storeroom?”

• • •

Compared to the chaos in the rest of the building, Timur's attic lab is an oasis of quiet. Nazan studies P-Ray as he sleeps. Is his color better? Maybe? Or is she kidding herself?

Zeph arrives and hunts through Timur's equipment for the largest flask he can find.

Nazan joins him at one of the worktables. “I don't know about this plan, Zeph. A day ago, I'd never been in a lab before—now, I'm in mass production? I'm not even educated, not really. I just read a lot is all. When you come right down to it, I'm just a—”

“Nuh-uh.” Zeph stops organizing instruments and looks at her intently. “You gotta let those thoughts go. Timur believes in you. I believe in you.”

“I appreciate that, but—”

“No, listen. You want to do something to honor Spencer? This here—with the colloid—this is how we do it. 'Cause if Reynolds were here? He'd tell you to get it done. You know he would. We can't afford to have your head on anything else. Otherwise, all those folks outside are dead, like him. You hear?”

• • •

Timur stands guard atop the stoop, keeping an eye out for the Committee. He shouts at the crowd gathered on the street. “You be patient. Boys make the medicine. You must wait. And you there! Get your elephant away from building! No, no, not there.
Away
from building. There will be fire, you hear me? This is no-clown zone.” He glances back at the frenzy in his home. “Too many clowns already.”

As the Unusuals back reluctantly away, two men terrify their way to the front. Crumbly Pete limps through the crowd, half carrying and half dragging Goo-Goo Knox, a sickly mess of a man with no nose. “Out of our way,” Pete mutters through gritted teeth.

They head straight up Magruder's front steps, paying no mind to Timur until the old man puts his hand out to stop Pete from opening the door.

“No,” Timur says. “You wait outside.”

But the young thugs barge past. Goo-Goo jams an elbow into Timur's chest, sending him stumbling down the stairs.

Timur shouts. “Stop,
kutok bosh
!”

Kitty passes on her way upstairs to visit her mother. She gasps at Goo-Goo's advanced affliction. “Poor man! Come in, come in. We'll make room for you.”

“Stop, no!” Timur says. “These boys no good!”

But the decision is made. Kitty takes Pete by the arm and pulls the two men farther into Magruder's. “He can have a lie down in the back room; we've extra space there. Come with me. This way…”

Timur leans on the heavy oak door, catching his breath. “Little girl…little girl, no…”

When It's Over

A festering bubo erupts.

Black liquid sprays across the sheets and dribbles down Goo-Goo's neck.

Crumbly Pete retches. He stands up. “I'm out.”

Goo-Goo moans. “Don't you move, boy. I ain't too sick to snap your little neck.”

Sighing, Pete sits back down. One way or the other, it will be over soon.

• • •

An arc of flame shoots from a second-floor window. Its orange tendrils stretch out into the street. A clown screams.

Kitty's head pops up in the window. “What do you think?” she calls down to Timur. “Too much?”

The mad scientist applauds. “When this is over, I hire you.”

• • •

Faceless men sit on piles of mattress covers.

McGrath leans on the vehicle door. “Now, listen up. I'm going to drive by this place real slow, see what I can see. If I decide we should burn the place, I'll pull over and let you boys out. And if we do have a burn, I want a nice, controlled one. We want to take down one building, not the whole neighborhood.” He glances over at Gibson. “And that's
if
we have to.”

Gibson locks eyes with McGrath. “You have to.”

McGrath shakes his head and sighs. “All right, let's get this over with.”

• • •

Porcelain nails on a young man's fingers.

Enzo squints out the window, watching Vivi try in vain to coax the disobedient leopard from his perch in a nearby tree. “
Caro mio
,” he says to Rosalind. “I must help Leopard Lady. This may go badly.”

Spooning him from behind, Rosalind rests his head on Enzo's shoulder. He'd changed from his female dress into trousers so that he could be more nimble helping Kitty organize Magruder's. But he couldn't bear to remove his favorite porcelain nails, and he runs them through Enzo's hair. “Let the others handle it,” Rosalind whispers. “I almost lost you once already.”

“
Caro
…”

“I won't hear it.” He turns Enzo to face him. “You know, darling, I've been thinking… When this is over, we should go somewhere. Someplace no one knows us. We can take P-Ray, live as a family. I don't know, maybe out west somewhere. Maybe Nebraska.”

Enzo laughs. “Nebraska!”

“I can pass, Enzo! You think I can't? Let me tell you, I can pass anytime I—”

He puts a finger to Rosalind's lips. “Of course you pass. It is I who no pass.” He takes Rosalind's hand and puts it on the scarred half of his head. “This face, this is a Dozen's face? Is this to you a Nebraska face?”

“I love your face. I'm glad there
aren't
dozens of you.”

Enzo kisses Rosalind on the forehead. “I go help Leopard Lady.” He heads down the stairs, chuckling to himself. “Nebraska…”

• • •

Hydrogen bubbles rise from silver ingot at the bottom of a flask.

“Nearly done over here,” Nazan says.

“Good,” Zeph replies. “How about you distribute that to some of our guests downstairs? Meanwhile, I'll get some more water from the storeroom, and I'll meet you back up here to start making more.”

“Sounds fine. How much colloid do we need, do you think?”

Zeph pulls another flask from the shelf. “How much sand is on the beach, know what I mean? This won't be over any time soon.”

• • •

A British rose withers away.

As Kitty races up and down the stairs of Magruder's, organizing the gas canisters, overseeing the soldering, instructing the troops, a voice in the back of her head continuously nags that she's been away from her mother too long. When she finally pauses on the third floor to peek into her sickroom, Kitty knows the voice was right.

Too long, and far too late.

“Mum, are you all right?”

Her mother's mouth is open and slack. One arm hangs off the side of the bed.

Kitty goes to her; the hand is cold. “Oh, Mummy, no.” Kitty puts her hand to her mouth to stifle a sob.

She hears voices out in the hall, confused and worried, looking for direction. “Has anyone seen Miss Hayward?” one asks. “Miss Hayward, how does this valve work?” asks another. “Kitty, where are you?”

Kitty wipes her tears and gently tucks her mother's hand back into the sheets. “I'm sorry, Mum. I can't stay with you now—I have to go make myself useful. I know you understand.” She squeezes her mother's hand, then pulls the blanket over her mother's face and leaves the room.

When Zeph passes Kitty on the stairs, he sees something is wrong. “Hey, English, everything okay?”

She bites her lip and says simply, “It's over.”

• • •

A wavy metal dagger with an ivory handle.

Archie reaches into the cabinet, removes the Indonesian
kris
blade, and slides it into his coat. For the past hour, he's been floating mock-innocently around Magruder's, squirreling away whatever treasures he can into the pockets of his coat. But in the back room, Archie discovers the very opposite of treasure: Crumbly Pete and a half-dead Goo-Goo Knox. “What are you cretins doing here?”

Pete leaps up, ready for a fight. “That girl said we could be here! Goo-Goo needs the treatment, and—”

“All right, don't get yourself in a twist.” On a shelf, he spies a blue-and-white teacup. Ming Dynasty. He slides it into his coat pocket. “Reynolds should have let you all die, but nobody ever listens to me.”

“The Reynolds kid is—” Pete catches himself. “I heard Reynolds is dead. That's what I heard someplace.”

Archie chuckles. “True. But as it turns out, Reynolds's lady friend fancies herself quite the chemist. And it's
her
medicine that may save your pointless lives. Funny old world, eh?” Archie glides out of the room to find someplace he can loot uninterrupted.

Pete bends down to Goo-Goo. “That's it, we gotta go.”

Goo-Goo moans. “Don't be a baby. They don't know you killed him.”

“What do you mean
I
killed him?
You
killed him.”

“I fixed a problem you made.”

“Well, we got a new problem now. And we wouldn't even be in this situation if you'd let the doctor treat you. Jesus, we go to all that trouble to snatch him, and then you lose your temper and wring his fucking—”

Goo-Goo grabs Pete by the shirt and pulls him close, and Pete grimaces at the stench. “The doctor annoyed me. Kinda how you're starting to. You want this over so badly, go find that skirt and get my medicine.”

• • •

A cup of silver colloid raised to a little man's lips.

“You're good at this, you know,” Whitey says weakly. “This nursing business.”

Nazan smiles. “Let's hope for your sake that I'm as good a scientist as I am a nurse.”

She stands to leave, but Whitey takes her hand. “Sorry about Reynolds. Personally, I always hated the guy, but…I heard about you and him and…about what happened. Terrible.”

“Thank you.”

“When this is over, you want to get a drink sometime?”

“Oh, Mr. Lovett.” She smiles, shaking her head. “I've heard about you too.”

• • •

A gentle knock on an old pine door.

“Come on in,” Rosalind says. Kitty peers around the door to find Rosalind sorting through a bag of fabric. “Kitty, how's your mother doing?”

“Oh, she's…um.” She swallows hard.
Neither the time, nor the place.
“She's the same. I was hoping I might borrow a pair of trousers? I've lost count of how many times I've run up and down these stairs, and I thought trousers might—”

Rosalind smiles. “Say no more. Let me see what I have that might fit.” He puts the bag of fabric down and sets to hunting through his wardrobe.

While she waits, Kitty idly picks up the fabric. “What's all this?”

“Nothing really. It's just, everyone else has jobs. Enzo's out in the back with Vivi. People are drilling and soldering. I'm not sure what to do with myself. But I remembered that I have all this fabric left over from my dressmaking and—wait, what about these? Will they fit? No, I think I have better somewhere… Anyway, I thought I could wet this fabric down, and we could dampen the window sills with it. Might help keep the wood from catching fire… Aha! Here we go. If we roll these up a bit, they'll do nicely.” Rosalind brings the trousers over and helps Kitty out of her skirts.

“I wouldn't bother,” Kitty says. “The fire is powered by gas. A little moisture won't make a difference.”

“I suppose, but I just thought any little thing could—”

“Really. There's
no point
. You'll just get in people's way.”

“Surely a damp sill is preferable to a—”

“Rosalind! Am I in charge or not? Why am I even bothering if no one will
bloody well
listen to me? Do you think there's
nothing
else I'd rather be doing right now?”

Rosalind rears back a little in surprise. “There's no need for you to—” He stops himself. “This isn't like you. What's happened?”

“Nothing happened! I simply don't understand why you all can't—”

Rosalind puts his hand tenderly on Kitty's arm. “Kitty. Stop. What happened?”

Kitty's eyes well up. She bites her bottom lip, then the top, then the bottom again. She clamps her hands over her face—perhaps there is some magic switch near her eyes that will stop the tears. Finally, she says, “She's gone. Mum's gone.”

“Poor little bird.” Rosalind wraps his arms around her, and they sit together on the bed while Kitty cries. “You poor thing, I'm so sorry.”

“It was too late.
Everything
was too late. I was so stupid to leave Mum alone at that hotel in the first place. I
never
should have agreed to it. And even more stupid to go to that island. All that trouble you went through, and the airplane, and it was all for nothing, and I should have been
here
the whole time! I've done absolutely everything wrong.”

“Angel.” Rosalind takes a piece of his scrap fabric and uses it to wipe Kitty's face. “Listen to me. You acted on the information you had. And P-Ray was being taken to Hoffman no matter what—that wasn't your fault. Enzo, Zeph, and me, we'd knock the Earth off Atlas's shoulders to get that boy back. So not one word about troubling us. And hey, usually Timur's inventions have no purpose whatsoever, so really, you did him a favor. C'mere.” He wraps Kitty into another hug.

“I let her down,” she says into Rosalind's neck. “I let them take her.”

“No. No, no, no. Stop that. What happened to you and your mother was a crime. What happened to P-Ray and Enzo was a crime. All over the city, it's not right. And think about this. Most of the people being treated this way, they have no voice. They're dead by now, or they're poor, or they look like Enzo, and no Dozen would ever believe them. But you. You have your fine education, you have your accent, you have this pretty face—or it would be,” he says kindly, “if you'd stop snuffling. You can be their champion, Kitty. You can stand up and say,
This is what's happening, and I know because it happened to me
.”

Kitty peers at him. “You think?”

“Someone's going to have to. Who better?”

Kitty laughs sadly. “Lots of people would be better, I'm sure. But I think Mum would like that, if I…took the lead a bit.”

“There you go.” Rosalind nods. “But, darling, could you help us save the Cabinet first?”

“Yes.” Kitty wipes her eyes and pulls on the trousers. “We'll fight the next battle when this one is over.”

• • •

A machine in the corner goes
ding!

Ding!

Ding!

Ding!

“What in hell is that noise?” Goo-Goo mutters.

Pete sighs. “I don't know, just something in the corner.”

Ding! Ding!

“Make it stop. It's giving me a headache.”

“Goo-Goo, it's just—”

“I said make it stop!”

Zeph enters. “Sorry to interrupt, boys. I just need a jug of water from back here.”

Pete stands. “Hey, since you're here. One of them machines started making this—”

Ding! Ding! Ding!

“See, there it goes again. It's bothering Goo-Goo.”

“My stars, I'd hate for our guests to be uncomfortable.”

“Watch your mouth, Stumpy,” Goo-Goo growls.

Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!

As Zeph approaches, the dinging intensifies. There's a new picture in the slot. “Chio, what is your—” Zeph takes the picture and examines it. He looks up at Pete and Goo-Goo, then back at the picture. “Oh my God.” His eyes widen for a split second, then he crumples the picture and shoves it in his shirt. “Machine was malfunctioning. It's over now.”

“Fucking better be,” Goo-Goo says.

• • •

Heavy wheels crunch along sandy, unswept streets.

Gibson sits in the passenger seat, his dread increasing. He checks his pocket watch. Will this be over in time for him to make the last train to Newport?

Up in the sky, large black birds ride the wind.

• • •

A big cat sprawls across the limb of a tree.

His fellow leopards stalk the backyard in circles, chuffing as they test and retest the strength of their leashes.

The alpha cat sees their mistress enter the yard. “
Venez ici, mes bébés. Venez ici.
” She's calling them to join her on one side of the yard. But no matter what she says, the alpha will not come.

The time for obedience is over.

• • •

A clown runs across a roof.

“They're coming,” he shrieks. “I see them! They're coming!”