Part 22 (1/2)
(_Better now; a little better; pa.s.sing_.) ”Yeah.”
”All right. The card you're holding . . . might it be the ace of spades?”
”G.o.d bless us, that's what it is, sure enough!”
”Thank you, sir, thank you. And now--”
The people of Two Forks listened to a speech made by a villainous looking dummy, they watched silver dollars appear from their vests, from their ears, from their hair . . .
(_The pain gathered in his heart, punched, and subsided_.) ”If you found it on me, dammit, then I figure it's mine!”
And all the while, the children screeching, ”_Please_ tell us! How'd you do that one, Dr. Silk?
Did it really come out of nowhere? Show us how! Please!”
Finally, it was time for the last magic. Perspiring, Dr. Silk told them about the years he had spent in Ethiopia, and how the maharaja had refused absolutely and how he'd had to creep into the palace in the dead of night, at great risk to his life, in order to steal the enchanted basket.
”Is it empty, sir?”
”Empty as it can be!”
”Nothing whatever inside? Hold it up for everybody to see, please. Nothing there?”
”Nope.”
”I'd like a strong man, please. A man with muscles, who knows how to throw.”
”Go on, Doody! Go on.”
”Ah, thank you. Now then, I want you to take this empty basket and throw it straight up into the air, as high as you can. Is that clear?”
”Just toss it up in the air, you mean?”
”That's right. Ready? One . . . two . . . three . . . Throw it, sir!”The man threw the basket: it sailed upward. All eyes held it. Then there was an explosion, and eyes jerked back to Dr. Silk, who stood on the stage with the smoking pistol in his hand. The basket fell back to the stage, rolled, was still.
”Mr. Doody, would you care to remove the lid?”
The man poked tentatively at the basket's woven teapot lid. It fell aside.
”The Lord!”
And out of the basket shot a hundred snakes! Red ones, green ones, yellow ones--jerking, twitching serpentines, like a rainbow come suddenly apart.
Dr. Silk looked over at Obadiah, who grinned and winked and immediately hauled out the boxes of Wonderol.
The people stood smiling out as far as you could see. Bowing, Dr. Silk listened to their applause; he listened and felt the love as it cascaded over the oil lamps. And he knew it was the sweetest, most marvelous feeling that could be: he wished he could do more--something to repay them for this love which, if they knew it, kept him alive, nourished him, let the heart of Micah Jackson beat on. If he could make them see the magic around them, that would be a repayment--but how many ever saw this magic?
No, he couldn't do that for the people. Yet--.
”How'd you do it?” The high-voiced softly shrill question had become a chant. The children were ecstatic: ”Tell us, tell us, please!”
Begging, imploring. Would he do this for them, would he, please?
Dr. Silk felt the applejack--”_Mr. Jackson, if you don't cut it out, you'll be dead in a year, I promise you_”--and his head seemed to dance with the children's question.
Then, all at once, he knew. He knew what he could give the people. He knew how he could say thank you and say good-by, gracefully, forever.
”All right,” he called. ”Gather round, now!”
”What are you gonna do? You gonna. . . show us how the magic's done? Are you?”
Dr. Silk looked at them. You know better than this, he thought, and he thought: It is because you're going to have the big tricks explained to you in a little while and you know how you'll feel and you want them to feel the same? No. It isn't. And it isn't a test, either. Or anything. Just a way to repay them.
”Yes,” Dr. Silk said, ”I am.”
Obadiah's jaw fell. He walked over quickly. ”You ain't really?” he said.
”I am. The children want it, Obadiah. I'll never be able to do anything else for them--you know that. And just look at their eyes.”
”I wouldn't Doctor, swear to the Lord.”
”He's gonna show us!”
The clapping began again. Everyone pressed close, expectant, waiting.
”Don't do it,” Obadiah said. ”Let's just sell us some medicine like we always do and scat.”
But Dr. Silk was already reaching into the black box.
He removed the enchanted hoops. ”Now I want you to pay close attention,” he declared.
”We will.” ”Shhh!”
Carefully, then, with exaggerated simplicity, he showed how there were actually three hoops, how two of them fit together and where the third one came from.
”See?”
The children squealed incredulously and clapped their hands. Someone said, ”I'll be d.a.m.ned, I will be d.a.m.ned.”
”Show us more!”
Dr. Silk felt the pain again. ”You want to see more?” he asked. ”You really and truly do?”
”Yes!”