Wilhelm

Seattle, WA—Beacon Theatre

Monday, June 28, 1909

JESSAMY EYED ME appraisingly before using her fingers to gently blend the makeup she’d applied across my temple. She had gotten ready earlier and was wearing the new costume Teddy had bought for her. The iridescent chiffon shimmered in the light, and the bejeweled wings made her look more like an angel than a butterfly. I couldn’t imagine anyone emerging from the cocoon other than her.

“You have got to be more careful, Wilhelm,” she said.

Teddy had told her that I’d hurt myself while attempting to rehearse a dangerous illusion on my own. He had given a masterful performance—carrying on about how scared he’d been and how he didn’t know what he would do if anything happened to me. It was so good that I nearly believed it myself.

Jessamy leaned back to inspect her work. “I don’t think anyone will notice it from the audience.”

I grimaced. “Thank you.”

“Is something else wrong?” she asked. “Is it your stomach again? Should I fetch your medicine?”

“No, thank you. I’m tired is all.” Thinking about the evening I’d spent with Jack had kept sleep from finding me. Most of the time, I lay in bed replaying our conversation, grinning like a fool in the dark. But sometimes, it was worry that kept me awake. Worry that Teddy would find out about Jack and that he would do something terrible to him. Those nights, I wished I’d been able to convince Jack to forget me.

Jessamy eyed me as if assessing my statement for its veracity. Seemingly satisfied, she stood and twirled, letting her wings float about her as she spun. “Isn’t this grand? We’re going to be on a real stage! When I’m too old to remember much else, I’ll always remember my name and that I performed at the Beacon Theatre at the Alaska-Yukon-Pacific Exposition!”

Her enthusiasm and optimism drew a smile from me. Teddy had worked us hard over the past week. Most of the illusions didn’t include either of us, and the majority of my participation required my talent rather than my presence, but we’d still rehearsed until we could run through the entire show flawlessly.

“This will be something to tell your children about,” I said. “Or even your grandchildren.”

A rosy blush bloomed in Jessamy’s cheeks that not even her makeup could conceal. “I doubt there are children in my future.”

“But you love them,” I said. “I’ve seen the way you stand at the incubators and watch the little babies.” One of the few joys I’d had over the past few days was exploring the wonders of the exposition with Jessamy. She had asked Teddy to let me accompany her, and he hadn’t been able to come up with a credible reason to deny her request. Besides, Teddy was confident I wouldn’t attempt to escape. I knew what he would do to Jessamy if I fled while in her care. As much as I wanted my freedom, I wouldn’t risk another’s life for it. Not again.

Together, Jessamy and I had made a valiant attempt to visit as much of the Alaska-Yukon-Pacific Exposition as we could, though we had barely managed to see even a small fraction of its offerings. We had spent hours talking. I was fascinated with her life. She had grown up in Seattle, born between the fire that had destroyed much of the city and the financial panic of 1893. Her father had set out to seek his family’s fortune in Alaska but had died before completing the journey there. Her mother had taken to her bed the day she’d learned of her husband’s death, forcing Jessamy to leave school and find work anywhere she could. Mrs. Valentine believed the solution to their problems was for her daughter to find a husband, and while Jessamy didn’t seem opposed to marriage, she didn’t seem thrilled by the prospect of it either. Still, her eyes lit up every time we passed the babies in their miraculous incubators.

“Some people just aren’t meant for that kind of happiness,” Jessamy said.

“But surely you are. You’ve got so much to offer that I can’t imagine why you haven’t stolen someone’s heart already.”

A wistful smile passed her lips. “Oh, there have been hearts stolen. I fear love may be for others but not for me.”

I could hardly believe what I was hearing. “Didn’t I see you talking to a beautiful young woman the other day? I might not be as worldly as some, but the way she was looking at you—”

Jessamy hushed me sharply. “Quietly,” she said, and looked around as if expecting a spy to peel away from the shadows. “Ruth Jackson is only a friend, but Mr. Barnes wouldn’t like even that. I can’t afford to lose this job.”

I despised that Jessamy was right. Teddy would not approve of her spending time with a Black girl, and it might well cost Jessamy her position if he found out. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Jessamy relaxed, and she even managed a smile. “And I know how good you are at keeping secrets.”

“I have no idea what you mean.” Teddy might have believed that Jessamy remained fooled by his explanation of mesmerism, but I saw through her. I knew that she knew there was more to our tricks than we let on, Jessamy knew that I was aware that she wasn’t deceived, and we both continued to feign ignorance of what the other might or might not know. It was a tangled web of Shakespearian proportions, but one that ensured Jessamy’s safety, and I was quick to change the subject. “Well, if someone as charming and brilliant as you can’t find love, then what hope have the rest of us got?”

My melodramatic speech earned from her a touch of laughter, for which I was grateful. “Being alone isn’t always bad, Wilhelm. My mother’s dearest sister has never married. She’s happiest in her own company and has experienced more joy in one life than most could know in ten.”

“That might be so,” I said, “but is that the life you want?”

“The universe rarely gives us what we want. Sometimes we must content ourselves with what we’re given.”

I’d had no idea Jessamy felt so spurned by Cupid, and it broke my heart that she believed she would never fall in love. I could think of no one who deserved happiness more than her.

“What about you, Wilhelm?” she asked, interrupting my thoughts. “What role does love play in your future?” I saw her attempt to change the subject for what it was, and since she had graciously allowed me to do so earlier, I offered her the same courtesy.

“I hope it finds me one day,” I said. “Though I’m not certain it will, since Teddy and I move so often.” I intended it as a joke, but it ended up sounding rather pathetic.

Jessamy touched my cheek. “I know that there’s someone out there for you, Wilhelm, and I believe with all my heart that if you don’t find them, they’ll surely find you.”

I thought of Jack Nevin barging through my door and felt my ears catch fire.

“What’s this?” Jessamy asked. “Is there someone already who’s caught the affections of my handsome magician’s assistant?”

I shook my head, but even as I did, I knew my denial would only convince her otherwise.

“Who is it?” Jessamy dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

“No one. There isn’t anyone.”

“You can tell me, Wilhelm.”

I made sure to catch her eye, to impress upon her the seriousness of my statement. “If there were someone, Teddy would do anything to prevent me from seeing them. Therefore, there is not anyone and there never can be.” Even as I spoke, I couldn’t help thinking of Jack, thinking of the letter I would leave for him when fortune allowed us to see each other again. It was dangerous to let Jack in knowing that nothing could ever come of it, but I rationalized that it was more dangerous to push him away where he might do something foolish like speak to the police.

The door to the dressing room flung inward and Teddy leaned in. “Enough dillydallying; we’ve a show to put on and an audience to beguile!” He was gone again before Jessamy or I could reply.

“We should go.” I stood and offered Jessamy my hand.

Before she took it, she said, “This won’t always be your life, Wilhelm.”

I knew she was right—eventually the exposition would end and Teddy would turn his sights to some new scheme—but I wished this could be my life. Because, despite my captivity, this was the freest I had ever felt.