Ten Thumb Sam (3 page)

On a bright Monday morning in early June, Sam's mother took the wheel of the Stringbini bus. Ten minutes later, the entire convoy of packed circus vehicles was on the highway.

“Ready, Sam?” Max asked from his place at the head of the kitchen table.

Sam was seated a few chairs down. He nodded. “Ready.”

“Ahem,” said Max. “I have an announcement to make. As you know, Sam and I have been working together on a magic act for the last little while. Sam has worked hard, and we both believe he's ready for his first performance.”

“Way to go, Sam,” Andrew said, tapping his fist against his brother's shoulder.

“Your hands are shaking,” said Annabel.

Sam put his hands under the table and glared at his little sister.

“Annabel,” Irene called from the driver's seat. “Be nice!”

When his sisters and brothers were seated around the table, Sam wiped his damp palms on his pants and stood up. He took a deep breath and then demonstrated each of the simple scarf tricks that his father had taught him. When the last scarf had disappeared, the assembled Stringbinis clapped politely.

“Good one, Sammy,” Martin said.

“That wasn't half bad,” said Louise.

“I know where the scarves went,” said Annabel.

“Shhh, Annabel!” said Elizabeth.

“I told you you could do it, Sam,” Max said. “Well done!”

Sam performed again that evening for the remaining members of the circus. He was nervous, but somehow he made it right through to the last trick without messing anything up.

“Congratulations!” Mr. Pigatto, the ringmaster, said while Sam was wiping his forehead in relief. “What do you say, Sam? Think you're ready for the big top?”

Sam swallowed. “I think so.”

Max clapped a hand on Sam's shoulder. “We'll have to spend a little more time fine-tuning Sam's act. Then I know he'll be ready.”

“Thanks again, Dad,” Sam told his father before going to bed that night.

“My pleasure,” said Max. “I'm proud of you for working so hard.”

For the first time in many months, Sam went to sleep with a smile on his face.

The Triple Top Circus was set up on the edge of a small prairie town when Sam's big night finally arrived. Bright lights lit up the sky, and lively music boomed from every loudspeaker. Eager crowds streamed into the big top, jostling good-naturedly for the best seats.

Irene stood waiting with Elizabeth and Louise in the small performers' tent that opened into the big top. Their trapeze act would open the night's show. Sam sat in a folding chair beside them, fidgeting nervously.

“Are you all right, sweetie?” Irene asked.

“I'm fine,” Sam lied.

Louise looked up from the fingernail she was filing. “He looks kind of green.”

Elizabeth nodded knowingly. “At least
this
time we won't be beneath him when he tosses his cookies.”

“Girls,” said Irene, “leave your brother alone.” She turned back to Sam. “
Are
you feeling sick?”

Sam shook his head.

“You sure?”

He nodded.

“All right then,” said his mother. “There's Mr. Pigatto announcing our act—we've got to go.” She planted a big kiss on Sam's forehead before moving to the entrance of the main tent. “You're going to be great, sweetie.”

Sam let himself slump forward when he was alone. He was
not
fine, but he wasn't going to admit it with the twins standing nearby. His hands were damp and trembling. The loud music and bright lights of the neighboring tent were giving him a headache. He'd already lost his dinner in the privacy of a toilet stall, but he still felt queasy. And if he felt like this here in the shadows, he had no idea how he was going to survive ten minutes in the spotlight.

“Ready, Sam?” Max asked as he slipped in to stand beside Sam's folding chair.

“Sure,” Sam said with a forced smile.

“What about you, Annabel?”

Annabel's blond ringlets bobbed up and down. “I'm always ready, Daddy.”

Sam watched from the doorway of the performers' tent as his mother appeared in the center ring of the big top with Elizabeth and Louise by her side. One by one, the three Stringbini women climbed up the ladder to the trapeze platform and began their flying act. Spotlights followed each swing, each twist and turn, each spectacular leap. Their performance was flawless, as usual. The crowd “oohed” and “aahed” and gave them a standing ovation when they were done.

Mr. Poponopolis's dogs followed the trapeze act. Then it was time for the Fritzi sisters and their stallions and a comic performance by the Triple Top clowns. There was a brief noisy intermission before Mr. Pigatto, the ringmaster, called everyone back. Sam's brother Andrew appeared next, high above the center ring on the high wire. When the audience finished cheering at the end of Andrew's act, it was Martin's turn to do figure eights on his unicycle while juggling a set of cups and saucers.

Sam had watched his family perform a thousand times, but tonight was different. Tonight he was finally going to prove that he belonged and that he could perform in front of an audience as well as any of his family members. “Oh please,
please
let me get through this without messing up,” Sam whispered.

All too soon, the stout ringmaster was giving the magicians their cue. “And NOW, LADIES and GENTLEMEN,” Mr. Pigatto cried. “Please turn your attention to the FAR RING to see the NEXT ASTOUNDING ACT. MAGIC MAX and his DARLING ASSISTANT ANNABEL will THRILL and AMAZE you. And TONIGHT, for the first time EVER, Magic Max will appear in public with his APPRENTICE, a young master of the magic arts, SLEIGHT-OF-HAND SAM!”

The crowd cheered as Max pushed Sam into the spotlight. It was a disaster from the start. The spectators waited for Sam to begin his first trick, but he was frozen to the spot.

“Sam!” said Annabel. She elbowed her brother in the ribs.

“It's okay, son,” Max said quietly. “Take a deep breath. You'll be fine.”

Sam rubbed his side and blinked.

“It's okay,” Max repeated. “Just concentrate on your first trick.” He tapped his sleeve as a reminder.

Sam swallowed and nodded. The first trick was a simple one that he'd already demonstrated several times for his family. It involved a string of brightly colored silk scarves that Sam would pull out of a secret
lining in his sleeve. He'd practiced it a hundred times, and it had always worked.

With trembling hands, Sam took off his jacket, turned it inside out and held it up for the audience's inspection. He put the jacket back on again.

“It's inside out,” Annabel hissed through the smile pasted on her dimpled face.

“What?” Sam said blankly.

“Your jacket—it's still inside out!”

The audience laughed as Sam took off his jacket, turned it right side out and put it back on again.

“One potato, two potato,” he said softly.

“Speak up!” Max whispered.

“Three potato,
blue
potato,” Sam finished, only a fraction louder.

As the audience leaned forward in their seats to get a better view, Sam reached up his sleeve to pull out the string of scarves. The tip of a bright orange scarf emerged, but that was all. His face red, Sam tugged harder. A green scarf appeared. Sam strained to pull out the remaining scarves, but succeeded only in tearing off the green scarf. The crowd began to laugh and jeer.

“Ahem,” said Mr. Pigatto, quickly stepping in to distract the audience. “If I may have your ATTENTION, MAGIC MAX is preparing his NEXT ILLUSION.
Watch closely and before your VERY EYES, Magic Max's lovely young assistant, ANNABEL, will enter the MYSTERIOUS WOODEN BOX and DISAPPEAR!”

Annabel quickly got into position inside the crate. Sam stumbled as he was trying to get out of the way, and at that moment the evening's events seemed to switch into slow motion. In an attempt to catch himself, Sam knocked over the cart that held his father's magic equipment. Everything went flying. Sam was soaked in colored water, a bouquet of flowers landed on his head, and an assortment of magic wands fell around his feet. As it fell, the cart caught the side of Annabel's box, and it too tipped over, breaking apart as it hit the ground.

Startled by the noise, Snowball, Max's white rabbit, hopped out from under an overturned top hat and bounded across the ground. Before anyone could stop him, the rabbit had escaped under one of the bleachers.

A cage of doves had also been knocked over. The distressed birds circled the audience several times before settling themselves on the high wire.

Max helped his youngest daughter out of the broken crate. Annabel's smile had disappeared. There was fury in her blue eyes.

For a moment the shocked crowd remained silent. Even Mr. Pigatto seemed at a loss for words. Then a few small children in the front row started giggling, and the silence was broken. Soon everyone in the big top was howling with laughter. Everyone, that is, but Sam.

“Come on, Sam,” his mother said, two weeks after his disastrous first performance. “It's your birthday. Everyone's waiting for you in the big top.”

“Tell them I'm sick,” Sam said from behind the curtain of his bunk bed.

Irene pushed the curtain aside. “You can't hide in here forever. Come on. Mrs. Pigatto made ham and pickle sandwiches.”

“I'm not hungry,” Sam insisted as his mother took his arm and began pulling him out.

“Not even for pistachio ice cream?” said Irene. “Oh well. More for your brothers, then.”

“All right, I'm coming,” Sam grumbled.

The circus performers cheered as Sam entered the tent behind his mother. When Sam was just a few yards away, Max waved a silk scarf in the air and a
cake with eleven flickering candles appeared. Everyone clapped, even though they'd seen the trick a hundred times before. Sam waited until the performers had finished singing “Happy Birthday” before he blew out the candles.

“So what did you wish for?” Annabel demanded when the last candle was out.

“Don't you know if he tells you what he wished for, his wish won't come true?” Martin said.

“Yeah, silly,” said Elizabeth.

“No,” said Sam. He stood up straight. “It's all right. This time I want everyone to know what my wish is.”

“That's the spirit,” said Mr. Pigatto. “What did you wish for this year, Sam? A new bike?”

Sam screwed his eyes shut and blurted it out. “I'm tired of high wires and trapezes and magic acts. I'm tired of standing on the sidelines and living on a bus and traveling to a new town every week. I just want—”

Sam's speech was interrupted by a commotion outside the tent. “I just want to leave the circus,” Sam finished quietly. But it was too late. He'd already lost his audience. Everyone had turned to watch the group of people that was spilling noisily through the entrance of the big top.

Sam immediately recognized the large, red-bearded man at the front of the group. It was his Uncle Albert, followed by the rest of Albert's family.