by Cela Day
“Here, I’ll help,” Bianca said, reaching to slide the halter higher up Lady’s trunk.
And then, for the first time, Lady slid her trunk underneath Bianca and lifted her. Bianca’s stomach swooped as she rose. The halter slid up Lady’s trunk, and Bianca found herself on her hands and knees on Lady’s head. She scrambled into a sitting position, clutching the halter.
Lady lifted one of her great legs and placed a thick foot carefully on the ground. Bianca felt the movement like a wave beneath a small boat. But it was slow and careful, like everything Lady did. Bianca straightened her back; her mouth stretched into a grin.
She was riding Lady.
Although perhaps it did make more sense to say that Lady was carrying her.
“That’s the way.” Steward’s voice sounded from below. Bianca looked down to see his face beaming up at them. Bianca grinned back and waved.
It felt strange and more than a little frightening to be so high, but as Bianca felt Lady’s gentle strength beneath her she was reassured. How wonderful it was to know that Lady cared for her. How wonderful it was to care for Lady.
How wonderful it was to be alive, and play her part in this Show of Wonders.
LATER, BETWEEN SHOWS, Bianca stopped by the chow tent to grab a bite. As she swung around the tent’s corner she nearly barreled into Papa. He was talking with Horace and Hattie, a married couple who were clowns. Both were in full costume, their white-painted faces and bright red noses looking strange in broad daylight.
“Here’s something for the road.” Papa dug into his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills. He peeled off the top few and handed them to Horace.
“You don’t have to do that!”
“I know.” Papa smiled. “But I want to.”
“Well, I won’t say it won’t come in handy.” Horace stuffed the bills in the chest pocket of his tattered clown suit.
Then Papa shook hands with them, and Hattie hugged him. Holding hands, the clown couple turned away and walked toward the big top.
Papa blew a big puff of air, horse-like, through his lips.
“Papa?” Bianca touched his arm. “Is everything okay?”
“Hello my dear,” he said absently, slipping his arm around her waist. “Yes, everything’s fine. Horace and Hattie just received word they’ve unexpectedly inherited a farm, so they’re leaving tonight after the show.”
“Which means we’re short of clowns.”
“Even shorter, you mean.” Just before the season’s start, another of their clowns had announced his retirement because of arthritis.
“Well.” Papa smiled down at Bianca and tugged gently on her long black braid. “We’ll just need to make do with what the good Lord sends us. How are you? And Lady, and Steward?”
“Very well!” Bianca smiled back, and decided now was not the right moment to mention she’d ridden Lady for the first time that day. It might worry him, and Papa looked very tired. He worked so hard, and as the season wore on he started to wear out.
“Good.” He tugged her braid again. “Well, we’ve both got work to do. The show must go on.”
“I COMMAND YOU: TELL me what you see.”
Eyes shut, the hag grimaced. After a moment she began: “I see—oh!”
Her words stopped, but her thin-lipped mouth remained open.
Anasophia leaned across the table, eyes fixed on her prisoner.
“What?” she urged. “What do you see?”
The hag’s eyes opened, her expression inscrutable.
“I see someone approaching on the edge of time to come. One who may prove a rival to you.”
“A rival? To me? Impossible!”
The hag smirked. “If you fear no one, why do you persist in asking me for reassurance?”
“Silence!” Anasophia cried. “I’m in no mood for your impudence!”
The hag sniffed, closing her eyes. “As you wish.”
Anasophia’s fists clenched on the tabletop. Then she took a deep breath.
“Tell me who this rival is.”
The hag shrugged, eyes still closed. “I cannot see them yet. I only sense their presence, at the very curve of time. Yet they cast a shadow, for great light shines behind them, and that shadow falls over you.”
Anasophia sneered. “Falls over me! Do you think I fear any shadow?”
“Not shadow itself, but the light that—”
“Hollow words! I don’t believe it. There is no light in this world that can threaten me. You’ve invented this out of jealousy, to rile me. But I’ll suffer no lies from you!”
Anasophia threw the blanket over the mirror and stormed from the tent.
THE NEXT MORNING, AFTER stopping by the chow tent for a piece of breakfast toast and a few apples for Lady, Bianca headed for Lady’s car as usual.
Lady lifted her trunk to snuffle Bianca as she entered.
“Good morning, girl.” Bianca offered her an apple, which Lady took gently from her palm, as delicately as any woman of good breeding might pluck a single grape from a proffered bowl.
Steward wasn’t in the car. Oddly, his blankets weren’t folded neatly on his usual bed of straw, either.
Maybe he’s washing them.
But even after Bianca mucked out Lady’s car, then walked Lady to the watering trough the roustabouts had set up by a pump, she saw no sign of him.
Maybe he’s helping Mickey.
Now that Bianca attended Lady, Steward often helped Mickey and his crew muck out the stockcars and tote fodder for the other animals. But as the day wore on and the time drew near for the menagerie to open, Bianca didn’t see him anywhere.
Bianca and Lady had never appeared in the menagerie without Steward, but Bianca no longer worried about how Lady would behave. She knew Lady now, and Lady knew her. So they stood together as always, smiling and greeting everyone who came to look at Lady with wonder in their eyes.
It wasn’t until after the matinee ended and Lady was having her afternoon snack that Tommy, the lion tamer’s son, approached Bianca and said:
“Mickey says you’re asking about Steward.”
“Yes!” Bianca cried. “Have you seen him?”
“Sure did,” the boy replied. “First thing this morning. Sun wasn’t hardly up yet. He had his knapsack on his shoulder and headed up the tracks, same way we’re going tonight.”
He shook his head. “Crazy thing. Why didn’t he just stay and ride, if that’s where he wanted to go?”
“Maybe he’ll meet us there.”
But Bianca didn’t really believe it. For some reason she had a feeling that Steward was gone. Although saddened by the thought, whenever she stroked one of Lady’s smooth ears or laid her palm on Lady’s wrinkled foreleg she felt comforted, thankful Steward had helped them find one another.
THE VERY NEXT MORNING as Bianca walked Lady out of her car, she spotted a boy heading toward their camp. This wasn’t unusual; curious onlookers always flocked to the circus as soon as the train pulled in. The boy carried an enormous sack over his shoulder, but this wasn’t unusual either, for locals often tried to sell circus people their wares.
But as he drew closer, Bianca realized he wasn’t a boy at all. He was a grown man, whose hair and long beard were silvery white. He was simply shorter than an average man—even shorter than Bianca.
He was, in fact, a dwarf.
Despite the heat he wore a gold-colored jacket that glinted like metal in the sun. As he approached, Lady stopped walking and turned her massive head to look at him, as if she found him particularly interesting. Before he reached Bianca and Lady, however, Mickey, who was leading Lana the llama into the menagerie tent, crossed paths with him. Bianca heard the dwarf say, in a low, gruff voice:
“I hear you need clowns.”
Mickey scratched his ear. “That’s a fact. We do. And you’re a clown?”
The silver-haired dwarf smiled. “I’ve been called worse.”
Mickey pursed his lips, then seemed to make up his mind. “You’d better t
alk with the boss. Tommy! Go tell the boss there’s a clown act wants auditioning!”
Tommy dropped his pitchfork and sprinted toward the train’s caboose.
“So what kind of act do you do?” Mickey asked.
“I’m a miner,” the dwarf replied.
“A miner?” Mickey frowned. “How’s that funny?”
The dwarf smiled again. “Perhaps you should watch and judge for yourself.”
“Fair enough. But I’ve got animals to feed, so I’ll need to catch it later—if the boss takes a liking to you. He should be here before you know it.”
Mickey and Lana disappeared into the menagerie tent. Curious to see what the dwarf would do, Bianca didn’t follow. Instead, she fed Lady another apple and watched the dwarf sit down on his massive sack to wait. A minute later, Papa approached and hailed him.
The silver-haired dwarf rose and stepped forward to shake Papa’s hand.
“Good morning, kind sir,” the dwarf said. “I am Eld.”
“How do you do,” Papa said. “Tommy tells me you’re a clown.”
“I’ll do my best,” Eld said. “I’d be happy to show you, right here.”
“If you don’t mind the crude conditions, that would be wonderful! The sooner I make a decision, the sooner we can have breakfast.”
“I like the way you think, sir.” Eld smiled.
Papa flipped over an empty feed bucket and made himself comfortable.
“Bianca!” he called. “Don’t miss this. You know I value your opinion.”
She nodded and waved.
Eld walked back to his sack and untied its mouth. Then he reached inside with both hands and tugged on something. Apparently it was heavy, for when the first tugs didn’t bring anything out of the sack Eld leaned back on both heels, appearing to pull with all his might. Just as his effort became almost painful to watch—
Out popped another dwarf, who looked remarkably like Eld, except his hair was salt and pepper instead of silvery-white. He also wore a shining gold jacket.
Bianca giggled. Lady waved her trunk.
“Ha!” Papa said, clapping. “Well done!”
“This is my brother, Digger,” Eld said solemnly.
Digger made a flourishing sort of bow, and then, with Eld, stepped back to the mouth of the sack. Both brothers reached into the sack, and then together leaned back, straining as they pulled on something just inside its mouth.
Two more gold-jacketed dwarves popped out of the sack.
“My brothers, Dragger and Dint,” Eld said, as Dragger and Dint picked themselves up from the ground, dusted off their knees, bowed, and, with Digger, returned to the sack.
The three dwarves reached inside. Bianca, Lady, and Papa waited expectantly as the dwarves heaved to.
Pop-pop-pop!
Three more dwarves, gold jackets glinting, tumbled out onto the ground.
“And these are my youngest brothers,” Eld said. “Gripper, Grinder, and Glint.”
Gripper, Grinder, and Glint bowed and followed Eld back to the sack where Digger, Dragger, and Dint waited.
The seven dwarves reached into the sack. All seven brothers leaned back on their heels and pulled with all their might. Slowly—slowly—slowly—
A mountain emerged from the sack.
Bianca gasped. Lady flapped her ears. Papa rose from the bucket, scratching his head.
Although small, it was definitely a mountain in miniature: taller than any of the dwarves, and perfect down to the last detail. Forests of tiny pine trees covered most of its sides and then fell away near the top, replaced by rock. Above the rock, the mountain’s peak had a snowy white cap. Bianca could even see a waterfall, a shining blue ribbon pouring down one side.
“This,” Eld announced, “is our mountain home, where we mine. Because you can’t come to our home, we’ve brought it to you.”
Papa nodded, both hands on his hips.
“And this,” Eld continued, “is how we mine.”
Digger, Dragger, and Dint reached into the sack and pulled out a pickaxe in each hand. Gripper, Grinder, and Glint stepped up and pulled out pickaxes as well.
Eld reached into the sack and pulled out six more axes.
The six younger brothers lined up in a row, while Eld remained standing to one side. At a nod from Eld, Digger tossed his two pickaxes up, up, up into the air. The blades gleamed silver as they soared heavenward.
Eld cried, “Now, Digger!” and tossed him a third axe. Digger seemed to do no more than tap its handle with his finger and the blade spun upward just as his other two axes came down. In the blink of an eye Digger was juggling three pickaxes, flipping each one high in the air so that it always returned to him, handle down.
“Dragger!” Eld cried, and the younger dwarf threw his axes skyward, receiving a third axe from Eld in return. One by one the brothers began juggling, each catching the axe Eld tossed to him.
When all six brothers had three axes in the air they began stepping backward, as if in time to some music only they could hear. Eld returned to the sack and began pulling out more axes. Digger tossed one of his axes to Dragger, who tapped it into his juggling arc without missing a beat. Even as Digger released his axe, Eld threw him another one.
The axe-sharing moved down the line until all six brothers juggled four axes each. Eld returned to the sack yet again and pulled out six more.
Soon each brother had five axes in the air.
Six axes.
Seven axes, and none of the brothers had even broken a sweat.
After tossing all the axes to his brothers, Eld walked over to the mountain and stood next to it. The six younger brothers, axes still spinning in the air, formed a line next to him, Digger first.
Digger changed the arc of his axe-throws, tossing them higher. And then, with a flick of his wrist, he spun the lowest axe sideways instead of upwards. Without even looking behind him, Eld caught the axe over his shoulder and aimed its gleaming tip at the mountain’s rocky side.
Thwack! The sound of metal striking rock rang across the meadow. Something small and gleaming flew from the mountainside through the air. Eld caught it in one hand as he dropped the axe to the ground with the other, then reached back over his shoulder with his free hand to catch the next axe Digger tossed.
With each new axe he caught, Eld struck the mountain, loosing a new bright shape. He caught each one and slipped it into his coat pocket.
When he had only two axes left in the air, Digger tossed one to Eld and caught the other in his own fist. Then he stepped up alongside Eld, and both dwarves struck the mountain.
Thwack!
Thwack!
Two more bright shapes flew out. Each dwarf caught one and pocketed it.
Then Dragger stepped up. He tossed an axe to Eld, who flipped it to Digger, who struck the mountain.
One by one the younger brothers moved up to stand by Eld and the mountain, flipping axes and joining their brothers in striking the rock. Soon the brothers surrounded the mountain, each spinning an axe in the air with one hand while striking the rock with the axe in the other, then tossing that axe to the next brother. Axes and bright-colored shapes flew through the air, and the sound of metal striking rock was a merry tune on the morning breeze.
Thwacka-thwack!
Thwacka-thwacka-thwack, thawacka-thwacka-thwack!
“Now, brothers!” Eld cried, and on the next beat the dwarves caught and held an axe in each hand, raising them high overhead. Then they all struck the rock, two-handed, one last time. As the bright-colored shapes flew into the air, the brothers dropped their axes and reached up to catch them.
They stood perfectly still for one moment, and then Eld turned and bowed to Papa, who stood open-mouthed, hands still on his hips.
“And now,” Eld said in his gruff voice, “for the gifting.”
He stretched out his hand to Papa. “Your gift, sir.”
Papa blinked. He looked down at Eld’s outstretched hand, said “Oh!” and then held out one of his own. El
d carefully placed something Bianca couldn’t see on Papa’s palm.
Meanwhile the other dwarves had formed two lines between the mountain and the sack and were tossing pickaxes to each other: Digger to Dragger, and Dragger to Dint; Gripper to Grinder, and Grinder to Glint. Dint and Glint shoved axes back into the sack.
Eld walked over to Bianca and bowed.
“Your gift, lass,” he said. His dark eyes looked into Bianca’s, and he smiled. She held out her hand and Eld pressed something into her palm: a small chunk of dull gold rock, threaded with bright glints.
It looked exactly like she’d always imagined a gold nugget would look. Even if it was only a prop, it was beautiful.
“Thank you, Eld,” she said, slipping it into her jacket pocket.
“I also have a gift for my Lady,” Eld said. He turned to Lady and bowed.
Lady waved her trunk. Eld held out his hand, palm up.
On it was not the piece of food Bianca expected, but another gold nugget.
Before Bianca could protest, Lady’s trunk was probing Eld’s palm. But instead of tossing the nugget into her mouth, Lady reached toward Bianca and pushed on the back of Bianca’s hand. Bianca turned her hand over, and Lady deposited the nugget on Bianca’s palm.
“She wants you to keep it safe for her,” Eld said. “And you should, as it might come in handy later.”
“Thank you, for both of us.” Bianca slipped Lady’s nugget into her pocket with her own.
“Now, Eld!” Digger called. “We could use your help with the mountain.”
“Certainly,” Eld said. In a heartbeat the seven brothers leaned together against the mountain on the edge of the sack’s mouth. After a moment’s straining, Eld cried:
“On the count of seven, brothers! One!”
“Two!” cried Digger.
“Three!” cried Dragger.
“Four!” cried Dint.
“Five!” cried Gripper.
“Six!” cried Grinder.
“Seven!” cried Glint.
And with that final push the sack swallowed the mountain.
Eld tied off the sack and shouldered it while his brothers lined up next to him. Then, as if on cue, all seven brothers bowed low to Papa.
