Circus Mirandus: Chapters 25–36

The sign beside the three wooden steps that led up to the door said ROSEBUD’S POTIONS AND POULTICES.

“I can’t fix everything,” she said, “and I can’t stop the dying from doing their thing, but this will help a mite.”

Jenny whispered into Micah’s ear that “mite” meant a little bit, but he couldn’t help feeling encouraged while he watched Rosebud grind all of her ingredients with a mortar and pestle that were much too small for her hands.

Then she dipped a brush into a jar of white paint and wrote, “For Ephraim Tuttle,” on it in pretty calligraphy.

“My special tea,” she said as she passed it to Micah. “You steep it in some hot water for a few minutes and give it to him. It’ll make him feel better.”

You should get back in bed. You could relapse! I don’t understand what’s going on here, but we need to call the doctor.

His father had survived the war, and the Tuttles had spent a few blissful years getting on with their lives.

Gertrudis had been born a happy, squalling baby, and the family had moved into a larger house in a better part of town.

When he was nineteen, Ephraim’s mother died of a sudden illness, and after his father fell into grief, Ephraim found himself responsible for his seven-year-old sister. He handled the situation with a great deal of fortitude for his age.

Ephraim had an inkling, just the faintest idea, of what he could be with proper training.

Knots were such a versatile thing really, especially once you started thinking beyond string. They were everywhere you looked and in many places that you didn’t, and then there were knots that were completely invisible, like the ones that held families together.

“He must have seen a lot of potential in you.” Her voice was contemplative. “He must have thought you had something special to contribute.”

“You can always join Circus Mirandus later.” Victoria laughed merrily. “Why, it’s been around for thousands of years! I doubt we have to worry about it disbanding.”

Victoria held her arm out, and Ephraim shook off his stupor.

Once or twice, Ephraim caught his wife looking out the window at the birds with a calculating expression on her face, but he dismissed it as something he had imagined.

Gertie had her tongue between her teeth, and she was staring intently at something in her hands.

It wasn’t that Gertrudis was stupid. She just had an inordinate amount of faith in her brother to tell the truth and in Victoria to keep her safe.

Micah wasn’t quite sure what happened next, but he thought he must have called for help because Aunt Gertrudis appeared at the foot of the stairs. “Stop caterwauling.”

He had come to Peal to appease the Man Who Bends Light and to see if there was any outstanding reason to change his mind.

He had liked the boy right away, just as he had Ephraim, and in his own way, he was sympathetic to their plight.

He hit taut fabric, and pain shot through him like a lightning bolt.

“I am trying to do as you ask, Micah,” he said, “but I’m afraid that Jean’s infallible sense of direction may have failed her.”

Big Jean trundled past a day-care center, and even though a lot of little kids were playing in the sandboxes outside, none of them noticed the elephant.

Though he has a way with animals, Mr. Head isn’t what you would consider a magician. He isn’t even what you would consider human. His gift is powerful but passive.

Living things under his care thrive.

He didn’t look worried, so Micah was sure Chintzy hadn’t mentioned Aunt Gertrudis thoroughly enough.

The Lightbender took the lace gingerly from him and examined it.

A group of policemen were scratching their heads nearby, muttering about permits and city ordinances and animal control.

As far as Mirandus Head was concerned, there had never been a more exasperating magical artifact than the Tuttle family bootlace.

He was, unfortunately, fluent in elephant.

By the end of the day, Mr. Head couldn’t step out of his tent without hearing about Micah. As a matter of fact, he couldn’t even step into his tent without hearing about Micah. He was, unfortunately, fluent in elephant. He soon felt like he was under siege in his own circus.

“Wasn’t this a tad juvenile?” Mr. Head groaned when the magician joined him on his walk. “Couldn’t we have spoken about the matter in private?”

“Does it matter?”
The manager sighed. “You know it’s not completely irrelevant. After her years here she may not have aged as quickly as a normal person. As far as we know she’s still out there, scheming.”

But Grandpa Ephraim’s Gertie was long gone, and Aunt Gertrudis looked at Micah like he had asked her if she wanted to contract a rare disease.

I don't want to cling to infantile fantasies.

It was so deep that it looked like it went to the center of the planet, and craggy rocks jutted from the walls.

It was so deep that it looked like it went to the center of the planet, and craggy rocks jutted from the walls.

The music was still calling Micah from the other side of the chasm. He couldn’t possibly reach it. He walked right up to the edge and stared down.

The Lightbender was still laughing when a familiar red-feathered blur plummeted out of the clear blue sky. Chintzy landed on top of Jean’s head and dropped an envelope into Micah’s lap.

Micah reread Jenny’s letter while Chintzy bickered with the Lightbender.