Free Masters of Illusions by Mary-Ann Tirone Smith Page A

once the temperature goes over
     ninety degrees, makeup melts. Right from the start it was a damn, hot, sorry day. But anyway, Emmett is supposed to do his
     all-alone act to divert the crowd while the cage comes down and while the Wallendas climb their ladder. First, the cats rouse
     them, then Emmett mopes around making them feel real sorry for him, and then—boom—goosebumps; there’s the Wallendas in the
     big spot at the tippity-top of the tent. Magic. And ya know what? When thousands of people say ‘oooooh’ all at the same time,
     I get a shiver.
    “But that day, Emmett was late because he couldn’t keep his nose on, so the crowd was watching the roustabouts dismantle the
     cage. ’Course the audience is just supposed to see the magic. A lion is there in front of you, and then before you know it,
     he’s gone, and there go five people, high in the sky, all piled up on top of one another riding a single bike on a steel cable
     that the crowd thinks is a rope. Magic. That’s what the circus is.”
    The Master said, “When did you finally spot Emmett?”
    “I saw him outside running to the tent while I was just getting ready for the last of ’em, Vickie and her babies. I saw Emmett,
     and right then, I saw a little bit of fire on the side of the tent. Then the little fire ripped up the tent, and then I heard
     Merle switch to the ‘Stars and Stripes.’ So then I had to concern myself getting Vickie out-she’d stopped at the ‘Stars and
     Stripes.’ I said, ‘Vickie, you come on, honey’ When she came through she was frantic, but the babies were right behind her.
     The canvas had started breaking up so they’d caught a few pieces. Had to cool them down.” Dixie paused. Her eyes darted around.
     She pointed, “There he is now!” With that, Dixie leaped out of her chair and pointed at the window.
    “Who?”
    “Emmett! Praise Jesus. All the while I had this feeling that he’d run into the tent. That he’d never come out. And look at
     that! He’s got a bucket! He’s gonna try to put out the fire. Oh, Emmett! But I’ve got to get to that Gargantua. Vickie’s okay,
     she’s in her cage lickin her babies. They’re just fine. But Gargantua, what about him? He can’t take any commotion. He’s old
     now. Emmett’s standing in the middle of the lot holding his bucket, but now he’s turning away—looking toward me. His nose
     is gone. Everyone is turning away, same as Emmett. All of them, pouring out of the exits. But I got Gargantua now, and me
     and him are together watching it all.
    “That’s okay, big fella, that’s okay. The children will be just finc—soon’s those boys get them out. See, honey, they’re getting
     all the children out right now.”
    Dixie had tears coursing down her cheeks through the tan makeup, leaving jagged white tracks. The Master asked her, “And what
     else is happening?”
    “The whole tent is on fire. The whole tent. Those soldiers who passed the children are running. Hermes Wallenda is running
     to his trailer. His spangles are smoking. They’re smoking! No, no, Gargantua, honey. See the children lying on the blankets?
     Look at Emmett making them laugh.”
    Then she stopped talking to the gorilla. She went back to the spot over the Master’s head. “There are sirens all around us,
     but the fire trucks are here first and the ambulances can’t get in. So people are taking the burned children down the street.
     Running with them. You can’t leave burned people lying in the sun—not this hot sun we got here today.”
    The Master said, “Do you see a little baby girl that the soldiers got out of the fire?”
    “Yes, sir! She’s wearin black shoes, and I’m wonderin’—now why the hell isn’t she wearing those itty-bitty white baby shoes?
     ’Course, the shoes are covered with soot, stupid me. Gargantua sees her, too. He’s makin’ those little cheeping sounds he
     makes when he’s feeling bad. His worry for the child is calming him, though. I