Part 21 (1/2)
A girl in a gingham dress whispered: ”Why didn't you use your magic?”
Dr. Silk shook his head. ”That wouldn't have been fair,” he said. ”Would it?”
”I guess not,” the girl sighed.
Dr. Silk straightened up, careful not to groan. A boy with round eyes and pale cheeks said: ”What'd you do then?”
”Well, between crocodiles and cannibals, a smart man will always pick cannibals. That's what I did, too. 'Come on,' I told them. 'I'll fight you by twos or by threes!' But they didn't listen. Just kept coming. Then when I closed my eyes and could almost feel that blade zipping through my neck, they surprised me. Picked me up bodily and threw me in a canoe and we paddled down the Amazon to this here place, the Sandwich Island. That's where they all lived, you see. Well, I got there and in two shakes those head-hunters had me in this pot--great big old pot, like a kettle, rusty, made of iron. My hands was tied, so I couldn't do nothing but watch while they poured in the water and threw in some apples, bunches of carrots, and about ten heads of lettuce - ”What were they aiming to do, Dr. Silk?”
”That's a silly question, boy.” Dr. Silk's voice sank to a dreadful murmur. ”They were aiming to cook me alive.”
A girl put her hands to her lips. Some of the older boys giggled nervously and fell silent again.
Now they were all walking. The grown-ups on the porches didn't bother them because they knew Dr. Silk and they knew what he meant to the children. Secretly, a lot of them wished they could join the crowd and listen to the wonderful stories; but, of course, that would not be fitting.
Pa.s.sing the Two Forks Feed and Grain Store, mincing along, barely moving at all, Dr. Silk and his parade made those with book learning think of the Pied Piper of Hamelin...
”What happened then, sir?”
”Well, you might know that along about now I was beginning to feel pretty low. The flames was crackling and the water was boiling and those seven-foot black demons sat hunched down on their hams, waiting. Just--waiting.””Did you holler?”
”Wouldn't do no good. Who'd hear me?”
”G.o.ddy.”
”I began to sweat some then, and I could see myself all decked out on the table with an apple stuck in my mouth, when there came this eerie kind of scream. Like this”--Dr. Silk cupped his hands around his mouth and emitted a low cry, something like an owl, something like a coyote--”Owoooo!
'What's that?' I said, but they just looked sad and wouldn't answer. Then I saw over across the island, by the water, was a great big castle made out of colored rocks.”
”That's where the noise was coming from?”
”Right. And it wouldn't stop, either. _Owooo! Owooo!_ Sent the cold s.h.i.+vers down my spine.
But I seen there was no sense in my worrying about that--not with the water bubbling and boiling all around me like a stew. Finally there was nothing else left to do, except . . .”
”You magicked them!”
”Only a little. I said the magic words that made the ropes around my hands and feet vanish and in a second I was out of the pot. Say, I want you to know that I did some running then! Dripping carrots and lettuce and what-all, I kept about two feet ahead. Anyone here ever try to dodge a spear while they were running?”
No one ever had.
”It wasn't easy. I could feel them shafts whistling by my ears no more than an inch. Looked like I was done for, when one of the spears got into my s.h.i.+rt: it must of been tossed mighty hard, because it lifted me up off the ground and carried me right across the island like a bird. Probably would of dumped me smackdab in the ocean if I hadn't got off, too. But I did get off, and landed right at the door of the castle. Heard the screaming, then, louder than before, so I rushed in, slammed the door in the nick of time, and went to investigate.”
”Was it a haunted castle?”
Dr. Silk frowned. ”Boy, I could tell you it was haunted, but that would be a lie.”
”Just an ordinary castle?”
”Ordinary as it could be, except for all the shrunk-up heads on the walls. Well, I went through a lot of corridors, and then sure enough, there, laying in state, was the king of Sandwich Island. It didn't take no more than a glance to see he was ailing with a rare tropical disease, the kind that makes your toes drop off. And holler? You'd of thought he was trying to call home a G.o.d. And there I was. It was my opportunity to run out the back way and escape to my freedom--but I couldn't do it.”
”Why not?” the freckled boy asked.
”Because of the king. You never let a man die without trying to help, do you?”
”But them head-hunters are gonna get you any second!”
”It was a risk I had to take. Moving fast, I reached into my satchel and brought out a bottle of special medicine. I could hear the door splintering, so I cracked the neck of the gla.s.s on the wall and opened the king's mouth and poured her all in. And do you know what?”
”What?”
”By the time those cannibals busted in, their ruler was setting up, well as the day he was born. Of course, that changed their att.i.tude in a hurry. They wanted to shake my hand, but I refused, after what they had done to Captain Ruyker and my friends on the boat. Still, they said, I had to be paid back. So the king thought a spell and finally decided to give me his son for a slave.”
”Obadiah?”
”None other. He's been with me ever since, and a truer friend you couldn't ask.”
There was the sound of held-breath suddenly released.
”Does he ever try to--” The girl in the gingham dress still looked terrified.
Dr. Silk smiled. ”It's only happened twice since that day in 1840. You may be sure I made him take back the heads and apologize. I don't think there's anything to worry about now.”
Down the street, coming out of a saloon, with his arms full of posters, Obadiah stopped and grinned, widely: a crescent of glittering white shone from the dusky face. He waved.The children shuddered.
”Well,” Dr. Silk said, ”you kids run along now. I'll be seeing you tonight.”
”You got any new magic for us?”
”Oh, _lots_ of new magic, son. You wait.”
”We'll be there. We will.”
The dust snowed up around all the skinny wool-wrapped legs as the children broke and scattered and ran home to count the minutes.
Dr. Silk chuckled, straightened his shoulders, and walked imperially to the Wild Silver Saloon. Its pleated batwings swung noiselessly inward, and back. He made his way to the stained oak bar and said, ”Applejack, please,” and began to dig for coins.
The bartender set down the gla.s.s. ”On the house,” he said.
”Thank you very much.”
”You're the magician.”
”I am.”
”I seen you last year when you was in Two Forks, and the year before that.” The bartender was a huge man: clumped black hair covered his arms and head, the tops of his fingers, the top of his nose, like the pelt of a muddied coyote. It was strange to see such a man smile. Yet he smiled now, and Dr.
Silk wondered for a moment how it would have been if Micah Jackson had just walked in instead of the Magic Man.
”Putting on a show tonight, are you?”