*
The changeover always happened slowly. A spark flickered deep within, perhaps only in her mind or, as she now thought, at her soul’s center of gravity. The inside flame would go on and then off and on again until it caught hold, and suddenly she would be conscious, not quite aware of where and who she was, but able to think. In those moments of limbo, Kay remembered vestiges of all she had left behind: the circus, the balancing act, a man following her through darkened streets, Father, Mother, husband. He would be worried about her, why she had not yet come home. So late, she should send a text to explain how they got carried away, one drink becomes many, and how she tried to shake that persistent old lecher. She should be home with her man, his books and papers messing up the kitchen table. The Muybridge Obsession. Her husband whispering French to himself as he worked. His old-fashioned fountain pen marching across the blank page. In his own world, he could still be working and not have noticed how late it had gotten and the fact that she had not yet come home. Or when she did, he would be at her side in bed, his hand resting on her hip, but he was not here. And no hips, no breasts, her figure gone back to a child’s, the dawning awareness of the state she was in, a wire frame, cloth body, arms, and legs, stuffed, a head full of dust. Her puppetness came gradually upon her. The flatness of the shelf was now hard against her back, and she was very nearly overcome by how stiff she felt.
The overhead lights beat down like so many suns. She sat up, surprised once more that she could sit. Only the Dog had awakened before her. He sat by the door staring at the knob, forever hopeful that he might be let out. Hanging from the coatrack, the Queen opened one eye and yawned. After a long slow stretch, she began worrying the knots holding her in place. Nix, who slept curled into a ball, unfurled to full length and sprang to his feet, toddling over to wake Mr. Firkin. In the bustle of the midnight morning, she did not notice anything out of the ordinary until all the puppets had risen. The two Judges and the Hag were missing. The mismatched chessmen sat atop the worn and folded board, and in the old woman’s rocking chair sat No?, her knees drawn up and her straw head resting on her crossed arms. Leaping down from the shelf, Kay scurried across the floor and pointed to the empty spaces. “They’re not here. They’ve gone!”
The Three Sisters untangled their wires and strolled over to the place where the vanished puppets should have been. Olya laid a hand on Kay’s shoulders, and Masha and Irina inspected the spot like two children wondering where their lost toys had gone. The others came over as well. Even the Worm inched his way to bear witness. Some bowed their heads, and others looked wistfully at the curtain to the toy shop.
“Where are the Judges?” Kay asked. “What happened to the Old Hag?”
“They’ve been selected,” said Mr. Firkin. Beneath his walrus mustache, he was smiling. Murmurs of delight filled the air. The Devil waltzed the Good Fairy across the floor. Nix turned three cartwheels and ended with a heels-over-head backflip. Even No? overcame her immediate regret and clapped and whistled.
Seeing the confusion on Kay’s face, the Queen took her aside from the boisterous celebration. “You should be happy for them. They’ve gone to a better place. The Quatre Mains is putting on a new show, and he must have selected those three to be in it. They have the chance to do what they have been created to do, you see. Who knows, they may be out in the great world, perhaps a children’s show in the city square, if they are lucky. And if you are good, and the puppeteers find a part for you in this show or the next, then you will have your chance, too. There is nothing like a performance to lift the spirits.”
“So they are just in a puppet show for now? They will be coming back?”
The Queen stared at her shoes. “You can never tell. The ways of the artist are mysterious. Sometimes the puppets return, sometimes they never come back. Sometimes they last forever. Do you remember the wooden man in the bell jar?”
“What do you mean never come back?”
“Don’t worry yourself, child. Just be happy for them. They have a chance to be under the spotlight.” She patted Kay atop her head and then went off with the Dog, playing fetch with a ball with a nose attached to it.