mouth shut at this, although a part of him longed to tell them both the truth. He wanted the praise he was due for his resourcefulness and knack. There was more Zanesville in his parents than he liked.
But the important fact was that they could no longer afford their stateroom on the Spirit of Independence. A new life with Micah seemed farther away than when they were in Ohio. They were stranded and disheartened, and just before they tried to go to sleep Hephaestus started blubbering. It was not an easily stomached sight, and filled Rapture with fear. Lloyd felt his disdain turning to shame. Suddenly, the family was outright foundering—and a long way from home.
“Listen, Hephaestus,” he said in a dark, calm voice, the first time he had ever called his father by his first name. “You have to pull yourself together. Tomorrow I will go out and bring some more money in. I don’t know how yet, but I will. But you can’t be a machine that breaks down now. You’re supposed to be the father in this family.”
There was an almost chilling sobriety to the boy’s words that shook both parents—perhaps because they each suspected that the money that had been lost had not been found. In any case, the next morning while the sun was still low, at the tender age of six, Lloyd Meadhorn Sitturd went to seek employment with the one person he knew in the river city.
“A job?” Mulrooney sighed. “My boy, you overestimate the financial fertility of my little enterprise. I regret to disinform you of this misconception, but last night, despite significant audience attention, the like of which any entertainer in any city of substance would be pleased to inspire, I ate fish-head soup. This morning I dined on oatmeal and brine. Please accept my apology for having to deny your request.”
“Why don’t you exhibit the Ambassadors?” Lloyd asked.
“They are not yet ready,” came the answer.
“Then why don’t you let them go?”
“Where?” the showman countered, and Lloyd saw that beneath the apparent flabbiness of his character Mulrooney was a victim of his own soft heart.
“But I can do things!” Lloyd insisted. “Things that will stir the crowd.”
“Such as?” the showman queried.
“What about long division—in my head?” Lloyd demanded.
“Long division? All right.” The showman smiled sadly.
“What’s 648,065 divided by 17?”
The boy thought for a moment and then replied, “38,121.47.”
“That answer sounds as plausible as any,” Mulrooney admitted.
“It’s the right answer!” Lloyd cried. “You can check it!”
“Bravo. But this is a magic show. Bewonderment and mystification.”
“What about calculating the number of beans in a big jar?”
“My boy, the best place to hide a buffalo is in a buffalo herd, and the best way to figure the number of beans in a jar is to be the one who put them there. That’s what my business is all about. That’s why it’s vital to think there is only one woman and not twins. But these little tricks of the intellect lack the necessary appeal for public performance.”
“But I have to earn some money!” the boy cried.
The shrillness of this outburst unsettled Mulrooney. There were people trawling the riversides who would be very interested in a child his age. Despite his apparent self-sufficiency, if the boy became desperate enough he could fall prey to some very undesirable folk.
“All right,” Mulrooney consented, racking his brain. “Let me think. Does your family know about your intentions?”
“N-no,” Lloyd admitted. “Not yet.”
“And I assume they would not approve if they did. So we know where we stand. All right, then. What about this? I believe we could fabricate … a mentalist attraction. In a word, mind reading. Hmm? We will ask questions of the audience and have you secured in such a way as not to hear. Then I shall ask you questions and you will tell everyone what it was the person said.”
“How will I know that?” Lloyd inquired.
“Because of the order of the questions that I ask you and certain key words I will use. We will have a code. With your quick head, we will fool and enlighten many. The rest will be amused. Then you can do some calculating feats and we can sell some special mind-strengthening tonic, for sharper wits and clearer thoughts.”
“Do you have some of that?” the boy asked.
“My little friend, I have but three tonics to sell, and they all have the main ingredient in common. The secret to tonic is not how it’s made but how it’s sold and therefore