The Hobett made it to the door, but missed Burt and started looking around for him.

Mr. Calhoun advanced on the tennis ball, about to pick it up.

The Hobett whistled, and Burt scurried to her, struck her big-booted toe, and bounced high over her head. As he came down, she doffed her hat just in time for him to land on her head and replaced the hat just in time to keep him there.

One final bow to a wildly applauding crowd, and she was out the door.

Eloise could still hear the cheers and applause from McCaffee’s as she hurried down the sidewalk, emotions in a blender. I blew it, I did great, they love me, he hates me, it was unprofessional, it was inspired… . Oh, dear God, can’t I do anything right?

“Hello? Oh, miss! Could you hold on a minute?”

Should she stop? Was it a cop?

Her shoulders were sagging as she turned to face the music.

It was Abby Calhoun, hurrying toward her, smiling, eyes sparkling. “I never caught your name.”

Well, Abby was smiling. Maybe it was safe to tell her. “Eloise Kramer.”

“Roger—Mr. Calhoun—told me to run after you.”

“Is he mad?”

She looked ready to laugh. “I think he is a little mad, yes.”

She deflated, the air sighing out of her.

“But he’d like to talk to you … about your proposal?”

Eloise breathed in again and squared her shoulders.

chapter

14

SATURDAY NIGHT, 7–7:30 P.M.,

enjoy …

ELOISE “The Hobett” KRAMER

Magician Extraordinaire

Astounding.

Astoundingly Funny.

Bring the Family.

It wasn’t her name up in lights, just colored marker pen on white copy paper with some of Roger Calhoun’s tacky artwork, taped to the front window of McCaffee’s. But that little poster struck Eloise as a page that could turn to a new chapter in her life, and she could feel it to the bones.

Seven to seven-thirty. Half an hour. She could remember thinking, Only half an hour?Now, cooped up in the women’s restroom in the back of McCaffee’s, reddening her nose and dotting her face with black whiskers, mumbling to herself one final time the order of illusions she’d planned, all she could think was, Half an hour! How was she going to fill half an hour?

“This isn’t my idea,” Mr. Calhoun had said. “It’s Abby’s idea and I’m going along with it, so okay, I’ll give you half an hour and it better be good.”

She worked and worried and sweated away the hours in her room at Sally and Micah’s until she was ready to eat her pillow, trying to remember and rehearse illusions in the correct order and the right style to hold a coffeehouse crowd, and all she had to work with were two tennis balls—she drew smiley faces on them—a deck of cards, and a batch of quarters.

The doorknob rattled.

“Just a minute!” she called.

It was noisy out in the restaurant, so there was a crowd. Whether they were willing to become hercrowd was one big question mark. Had any returned from yesterday? Had any word gotten around so there’d be new faces? Was there anybody out there who would, you know, like her in the first place?

She was already sweating. She sniffed herself. Her deodorant was working.

She leaned against the sink and bowed her head. “I’m going to do this. I might make a total fool of myself, but I won’t turn away. Here I am with whiskers on my face and tricks in my pockets and … and somebody needs to use the restroom. Well, You know what I would have said.”

She assumed the Hobett’s personality, face, and body, double-checked her goofy smile in the mirror, and stepped out. With a tip of her hat to the lady waiting outside, she slipped past and flopped into one lone chair in the corner to await her cue. She caught the eyes of a couple sitting at the rearmost table and gave them a disarming, clownish smile. They smiled back. It helped.

Her hand was trembling. She wouldn’t be able to hold her cards …

“Okay, uh, here we go, then… .” Mr. Calhoun had stepped to the center of the floor. He and his crew had crowded the tables a touch toward the walls to allow Eloise a few additional square feet. Now Mr. Calhoun stood in that space looking terribly self-conscious. “For the next half hour we’re gonna have, uh, Elaine … what’d I say? Elaine? Eloise! Eloise Kramer. She goes by the name Hobett ’cause she’s a girl hobo, and, uh … okay. Here she is.”

He wanted to get out of there in no small way, she could tell. He was clearing the floor, face set resolutely toward the safe zone behind the counter.

He’d forgotten. Burt the Tennis Ball was right in his hand and he was walking off.

Great start. Wonder if he’s going to count this one against me?

She waved at him and he finally saw her. Unhappily, he turned around, went back to the center of the floor, dropped Burt, and cleared out. Now it was just Burt out there, bouncing all by himself with everybody watching.

She leaned forward, eyes on Burt, touching him without touching him from back in the corner. Come on, Burt. Come on …

His bounce had been decaying, but now, somehow, it gained energy and he kept bouncing, right there in that one spot, up and down, up and down, just as high every time. The people were catching on, starting to giggle to each other. Some of the guys at a front-row table were starting to bend down and search from side to side for wires, strings, the gimmick.

Okay. We have ’em, for now. Got to time this right. Okay … now!

She high-stepped out, moving past tables, bodies, faces, and started clapping her hands in time to Burt’s bounce. With some whimsical, clownlike persuasion she got the folks clapping along. It would have been so much better with music but there wasn’t time to set that up and Mr. Calhoun was at the limits of his niceness anyway.

Get going, get going.

She’d rehearsed this dance with Burt so many times. As she swooped in and let him roll up one arm and down the other, from left to right hand and around again, then let him bounce and weave through her legs in sync with her dancing, she went on pure faith that each move would pop up in her memory when she needed it, and at every crisis moment there it was: Kick Burt off your heel, catch him in your hat, swing your hat over your head and dump Burt out, let him bounce on top of your head, bounce from head to kicked heel and back again, elbow to elbow, keep those legs shuffling, weave, baby, weave, let him bounce straight up and down from the floor, do your circle dance around him while you get his buddy, Baxter, from your pocket.

Now the hard part. She got this to work a few times back at the halfway house, enough to take the chance here. She kept her eyes on Burt, her head nodding to follow his bounce, then held Baxter at just the right height for Burt to contact him at the top of his bounce. Bump! Baxter bounced upward, Burt bounced downward, Burt bounced off the floor at the same moment Baxter fell back from his bounce, they met halfway: bump! Now they were bouncing in a perfect column, Burt off the floor, Baxter off Burt, bump, bump, bump!

She had the crowd. They were in that zone where they didn’t laugh or applaud, they gasped, marveled, bent, and craned, trying to figure out how in the world … !

For this one moment when Burt and Baxter were doing most of the work, she could look at the faces. The college guys were back and had brought girls. Mia was there, along with Rhea, Darci, and the Durhams. They were marveling, too, but so happy, so proud.

Enough of bouncing Burt and Baxter.She plucked Baxter from the air, then Burt, then struck a pose, a ball in each hand. Now the applause came, wild and excited.