The Transformation of Bartholomew Fortuno: A Novel by Ellen Bryson Read Free Book Online

crotch all the way to my knee, the material cutting into my skin. I shot Thaddeus a look of desperation. His shrug said a million things: Be a soldier; act like a man; march on. So on I trooped, going through my paces as if nothing were amiss, dipping rather than standing tall, twisting where I normally stayed my ground. Of course I couldn’t afford to suck in my stomach at the end for fear of more exposure, but I made do, altering my act as best I could. In the end, even though the audience clapped wildly, I failed to reach any of them at a deeper level.
    Backstage, I flung myself down on an old salt box to examine the extent of the damage.
    “What in God’s name?” I cried, when Thaddeus came offstage. “You’re supposed to help me, not let me dance about like a maiden protecting her virginity.”
    “It’s not my fault you’re a virgin, Fortuno. And, frankly, I did you a favor. They liked your racier act way better than your usual drivel.”
    “My
usual drivel
,” I said, “is a revelation of the soul of man.”
    “Yeah, sure it is.” Thaddeus pushed past me. I stomped along behind him, as he slipped off his stage jacket and brushed the back of it with his hand. “Anyway,” he said as he put his coat back on and straightened the lapels, “it don’t matter. You ain’t got that much to show.”
    “It certainly
does
matter,” I answered. “This is not about pride, it’s about professionalism. You’ve no right to make me into a fool. And if you do such a thing again, I will have you dismissed!” I poked him once in his meaty ribs for emphasis.
    Thaddeus grabbed my finger and pulled it, hard. An awful pain shot all the way up my arm.
    “Maybe it’s time for you to go back where you came from, Fortuno,” he taunted me. A momentary shiver stopped me cold.
Back where I came from
meant the circus. Never! Just the idea made my head dizzy.
    “I loved the circus,” I lied to the back of Thaddeus as hereentered the stage. “I was a star in the circus, and they treated me like a king.”
    The truth is, I was never a star in the circus; I was only a sideshow act, and I didn’t belong on the fringes, I belonged as a main event. But even as a sideshow act, I knew, at the tender age of fourteen, as I sat shivering and bruised in the fancy Richmond office of Isaac Van Amburgh, my uncle Frederick beside me wringing his hands, that the circus was going to be an improvement on what came before. At last, I would be seen.
I’m getting out, I’m getting out
, I thought to myself as Van Amburgh eyed me from across his broad wooden desk.
My gift will soon be seen by all.
    “His parents are dead, you say?”
    “The father, yes. The mother, mad as a hatter. Ward of the state.”
    “And you have full control of the boy?”
    My uncle scrabbled about in his pocket, pulled out a wrinkled but official-looking document, slapped it down on the desk, and sat back nervously. “Like he was my very own.”
    Van Amburgh studied me. “He
is
magnificent, got to say that much. Let me see him up close.” He waved a hand, and my uncle grabbed me by the scuff of the neck and hauled me to the front of the desk, pulling my coat open to show my bony chest. Van Amburgh stared at me with small black eyes.
    “Can you speak?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Do you eat anything at all?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    My uncle piped up. “He might be an idiot. I hope that doesn’t lower the price.”
    “Not as long as he can travel. You can travel, can’t you?”
    “I think so, sir.”
    “And you will live, eh?”
    “Of course the little bastard will live,” my uncle said. “He’s strong as a horse.”
    It took Van Amburgh forever, but finally he slid the papers across the desk with a fingertip. “I want to tour him with my traveling show. People are getting tired of seeing only animals, and these human oddities make the menageries a little more exciting for our countryfolk. Might even put him with a tented show if he does well.” He smiled and