tube that was now in Johann’s possession pointed at some distant object. Tonio’s eye was as big as a whale’s.
I can see you, Johann . . . Always, every day . . . You can’t escape me . . . Only seventeen years . . .
“Gather around!” shouted Greta to the people on the market square. She used the booming, praising tone Johann had taught her. “Be amazed at Doctor Faustus’s fantastic journeys that took him to faraway lands!” cried the girl in a rhythm that seemed to entrance people. “Prepare to experience miracles you’ve never seen before!”
Greta called the booth her little theater, and she loved it. Karl had painted the crate with colorful exotic depictions. There was a little red curtain, along with several different backdrops and even an oil lamp that acted as the sun in the desert. With admiration Johann studied Karl’s paintings of the scorching desert in the East and the distant lands they called America, named after a Florentine seafarer and explorer who believed he’d discovered a new continent. Karl had painted a green jungle and small people with spears who rode on dragons.
Johann couldn’t help but grin. Karl was utterly useless as a juggler, but his talents clearly lay elsewhere. Johann was occasionally irritated by Karl’s glances—looks that were more than those of an admiring assistant. One time Johann had heard Karl mutter his name in his sleep: Faust, oh, my Faust. But Johann hadn’t said anything, because he didn’t want to embarrass the young man.
They had set up wooden benches using bricks and planks of spruce in front of the small stage, and about three dozen spectators had gathered. Full of anticipation, they watched Greta as she juggled five balls at once, attracting even more people to their show. Johann nodded appreciatively. Despite her young age, it was clear that Greta was a highly talented performer—she could even play the bagpipe. What they had to offer wasn’t the spectacular show Johann used to present with his laterna magica. It was smaller and less dramatic, but it made people happy.
And he was happy, too.
Karl was already crouching behind the booth, and now Greta caught her balls one by one, made them magically disappear in her dress, and joined him. Several young men in the audience made rude remarks and gestures, because Greta had developed a womanly figure. Sometimes she reminded him a little of Salome, the insatiable dancer who had bewitched him on their journey to Venice so long ago. Perhaps he would fall in love again someday, but for now his love for his daughter was enough for him.
“Watch how I, the widely traveled Doctor Faustus, once fought a lion in Africa and defeated it with the aid of white magic alone,” announced Johann, who had walked up to the theater. As always, he acted as the narrator while Karl and Greta worked the puppets.
In front of a desert backdrop, a lion with a golden mane appeared, roaring so loudly that the audience gasped with fright. A second puppet materialized—clearly the doctor with his star cloak and floppy hat.
“You terrible beast,” sounded Karl’s voice from behind the stage. “Here—drink my theriac!” The Faust puppet threw a miniature bottle at the lion, and the animal staggered from side to side as if drunk, eventually collapsing with a grunt. The audience laughed and applauded.
“I once met the beautiful Helen herself,” continued Johann. “I abducted her from Hades, where she had been sorrowfully waiting for her Paris since Troy.”
The backdrop was quickly changed to a canvas showing menacing flames. The puppet of a princess with blonde hair appeared on stage and cried heartrendingly.
“Oh, poor me,” wailed Greta’s voice. “The devil himself has dragged me down to hell—I may never see my beloved Paris again!”
Some spectators sighed while others giggled; the Faust puppet appeared from the right, this time with a book in its hands.
“I am going to free you, beautiful Helen,” announced Karl. “Not even the devil stands a chance against my book of magic spells.”
“Harr, harr! We shall see about that,” said Karl with a different, darker voice. At the same moment, a tinny thunderclap rang out and the devil emerged from the depths of the booth. He had goat’s horns and a long tail, and there was smoke, along with the stink of sulfur. The audience screamed with horror.
“Now both of you must remain in hell!” snarled the devil and tugged at Helen. “You are mine!” The puppets fought one another, and the