Free Elephant Bangs Train by William Kotzwinkle Page A

placing her foot on the top step. 'I am an ancient woman.'
    He released her hand, and turning to the audience, bowed once again, then withdrew across the stage into the wings.
    Music began. She descended the stairs. Girls with painted faces came out behind her on the stage, covered in balloons. She stepped carefully on to the floor of the cabaret, which appeared to be tilted on its side. Someone was at her elbow, with his arm around her waist. 'Well, my dear,' asked her elderly escort, 'how did you like being sawed in half?'
    A stagehand carried the box into the wings. The magician carried it the rest of the way, into the dressing room, where his wife sat, reading a paper. Beside her in a chair, a child was sleeping.
    'How tired you look,' she said. 'Are you all right?'
    'Yes, of course,' he said, removing his tie.
    She helped him off with his cape and jacket and packed his tuxedo and their other belongings in the magic box. They left by the stage door and walked through the alleyway, the magician carrying the box, his wife holding their sleeping child on her shoulder.
    A carriage came up the avenue and the magician hailed it. 'To the railway station,' he said, handing the box up to the driver.
    They climbed into the carriage, sank into the leather seats. The magician stared out the window, towards the river lights. His wife, settling the child in her lap, saw the old gentleman and the girl coming out of the cabaret. 'The fog seems to be lifting,' she said, drawing her shawl around the child.
    The driver cracked his whip. The carriage pulled away, into the night.
     

 
    Turning Point
    'S UPPER SOON ,' said Mother. 'Stay on the porch.'
    He would stay on the porch. It was a pirate ship sailing on River Street. During the flood, Mister Noto came down the alley in a rowboat, holding a floorlamp. Now the waters were gone, though there was still mud in the cellar and good chairs had been ruined, Father said.
    He climbed the stone porch-railing, to the crow's nest. Across River Street, girls in black dresses came down the steps of the school. He would take their jewels and sail away. At the top of the steps was the nun, who had given him a piano lesson. He had no piano and she told him to practise with his fingers on the arm of a chair. He would make her walk the plank.
    The boys came down the steps in their black suits, with long pants that whipped in the wind. His pants were short, his knees stuck out, but his shirt had a red anchor on it, and when the flood came again maybe the house would float away. The boys went into the alley, pushing and shoving, and the girls followed them. He made his fingers into a spyglass and watched them going away, wherever they wanted to, into town or up the hill or to the river where the bums lived under the bridge, and he had to stay behind in his short pants for supper and bed.
    The alleyway filled up. No one went anywhere. The boys stood around in a circle and the girls were on tiptoe behind them, screaming.
    He jumped down from the porch, into the bushes. The branches held him and then bent over. Through the jungle he crawled, keeping low, to the row of iron spears stabbed into the ground, black and cold. He grasped the fence, a prisoner. Through the bars, he watched the crowd in the alley grow larger.
    Gripping the spear heads, he raised his foot carefully, rose up and went over, down on to the sidewalk. Who could stop him, not Mother, it was a getaway. He ran across the street quickly, and ducked into the alley.
    The alley was filled with holes, went by the old garages, winding down and away. He pushed into the crowd, but they pushed him back. He got down on his knees and crept like a dog between their legs and came out in front.
    Two tall boys were moving slowly around in the centre of the crowd, with their hands in front of them. Their arms were long and their hands were curled into tight balls. Their coats and ties were off and he saw the wide suspenders that held up their long pants. His