“Sorry about the mess,” Leonid said, then pointed to the couch. “Y’all can have a seat. Take a rest.”
I took a seat in the middle, and the worn-out cushions felt like I was sitting on a blanket thrown across a two-by-four. Gideon and Luke sat on either side of me, and Leonid disappeared into the front room before returning with a plastic kitchen chair.
“Do you need anything? Want a drink? I think I have some sardines I could spread on crackers if you’re hungry,” Leonid offered.
“No,” Luka said too quickly.
“That’s quite all right,” Gideon replied more gently. “Thank you for offering, though.”
“Yeah, just let me know if you change your mind.” Leonid set the chair across from us, and he made like he was about to sit, but something occurred to him. “Oh, yeah, I should show you this. This is why I told you to come here.”
“Show me what?” Gideon asked.
“I’ll get it, I’ll get it.” Leonid went over to a pile of papers in the corner and began riffling through them. “I know it’s here. I was just looking at it, because I heard there was a carnival in town, and I thought it might be you. I hoped it was, anyway.”
“Yeah?” Gideon asked. “I thought you might stop by, if you were around.”
“I would’ve. I want to. I’ve just been so busy.” He shrugged his bony shoulders. “You know how life gets.”
I tried to imagine what Leonid could be busy with. I wanted to ask him if he had a job, but that sounded too forward.
“Ah-ha!” Leonid held up two pieces of paper, both of them yellowed with age. “Here it is.” He hurried back over and handed them to Gideon.
The first one was a black-and-white flier with a picture of Leonid on it. The headline read, Come See One of the Marvels of the World! Below, in smaller print, it read Leonid the Human Skeleton.
Below the picture was the day and time where people could see Leonid in the Caudry town square. It was dated only a few months ago, during a celebration the town was having for New Year’s. That made it all the more curious that the paper had gotten so yellow in such a short amount of time.
“That’s where I made all the money.” Leonid tapped the flier. “I know it doesn’t look like I’m living high on the hog, but you know how things go. I take the work where it comes, and I actually haven’t worked since then, and I’m still getting by just fine. It had quite the turnout, and people paid to take their picture with me.”
“Good on you,” Gideon said. “You always were a talented performer.”
Leonid smiled broadly at the minor compliment, his mouth spreading so wide it looked like his face might split apart, and he sat back in the chair.
“That other thing, that’s why I invited you here,” Leonid said, gesturing to the paper below the flier. “I got that letter a couple weeks after I did my show.”
I leaned closer to Gideon, reading over his arm.
Dear Leonid Murphy:
Thank you for the wonderful performance last week. It was so amazing to see you, and I know that everyone got a real thrill out of meeting you. You’re a very special man, Leonid, and I hope that you can appreciate all the talent that you have.
While you were performing, I heard you mention that you’d traveled with a carnival where there were all kinds of people like you, each with unique talents of their own. I was wondering if you could put me in contact with them, or perhaps extend an invitation yourself? I know that if we could get something like that here, we could get the entire parish to turn out!
I would love to have the carnival here to signal the coming spring, perhaps around the week of March the thirteenth?
If your friends in the carnival can make it then, I can promise them a hefty payday, along with a bonus for yourself. As a gesture of good faith, I’ve enclosed a check for $500 as a finder’s fee.
Thank you again for your wonderful show, and I’m so happy that you’ve decided to make Caudry your home.
Sincerely,
Della Jane
I didn’t even have to read the name. I already recognized the loopy scrawl from the woman who’d given me her number yesterday.
“I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t tell you about the finder’s fee.” Leonid shifted in his seat. “Since she promised you a payday, I didn’t think it would matter either way.”
“No, it’s fine,” Gideon assured him.
From what I understood, Gideon had spoken to someone at the mayor’s office after he’d received Leonid’s postcard. They’d agreed upon the dates and promised Gideon a flat rate of several thousand dollars if we performed nine days, plus everything we earned from the concessions.
So far, it promised to be a larger wage than we’d earned in years.
“We really appreciate you sending the work our way, Leonid,” Gideon said. “You know how work can dry up, especially in the winter, so it was very kind of you to think of us.”