Wilhelm

Pittsburgh, PA—Hotel Continental

Friday, November 6, 1908

SLEEPING IN A bed was a luxury. Yet, if I remained asleep too long, Teddy would eventually wake me in a way I wouldn’t enjoy. My bones ached from being on the road and my stomach cramped from the hunger that arose as a result of using my talent too often. Not that Teddy had given me a choice. The first night we’d arrived in Pittsburgh, we’d cleared six houses of most of their valuables. The ill-gotten wealth was the reason Teddy could afford such a luxurious suite of rooms at the Continental and that I had my own bed. Teddy rarely stole for the money alone. Instead, he craved the recognition and notoriety. He broke into impenetrable vaults, he liberated valuables from under the watchful eyes of their owners, he walked into the most secure buildings and then walked back out, whistling tunelessly as he did so. Each crime was more audacious than the last, and he left behind a folded paper animal in an attempt to create a name for himself that had, thus far, failed. For the most part, Teddy considered stealing items simply for their monetary value banal, but he would do it when necessary.

As I lay in bed, drifting in and out of dreams, I heard my mother humming softly to herself as she baked bread in the morning. I felt my father’s hand on my shoulder and saw the pride on his face when he looked at me. I could see them so clearly in my dreams, I could hear their voices and feel their love, but I couldn’t remember where I had come from. I couldn’t remember my home.

Not that remembering would have changed my situation. I could only Travel about a hundred feet—approximately the distance between home plate and first base on a baseball field; less if I was carrying another person or some burden—and I couldn’t Travel through iron. I had to be able to visualize my destination. However, even were I capable of remembering my home, and even were I able to Travel there, I could not have left. The iron cuff around my ankle served to remind me that I belonged to Teddy just as surely as the sapphire necklace we had stolen from the Beesontown bank vault.

Eventually, my fear of punishment drove me from bed. I washed up before joining Teddy in the sitting room, where breakfast was arrayed on the table before him. I was chained to the heating pipe that ran along the wall to the radiator, and could move between the rooms without being unshackled, but I couldn’t quite reach the exit. Teddy would have to free my ankle long enough for me to dress properly later, but he rarely concerned himself with my appearance unless we were out in public.

Theodore Barnes was tall and broad across the shoulders. He had a long nose that shaded a bushy, drab mustache over a thin-lipped mouth. He was plain, forgettable even, but I had seen too many people underestimate him to make that mistake myself. Teddy was a monster.

“Take your medicine, Wilhelm.”

It was the first thing Teddy said to me every morning when I awoke. Each day, for as long as I could remember, I took the round, pink pill Teddy gave me and swallowed it down. The medicine left a sugary taste on my tongue.

“Have you read about this world’s fair being held in Seattle?” Teddy poked the newspaper spread out on the table before him. “‘The Alaska-Yukon-Pacific Exposition,’ they’re calling it.”

Teddy left me little to occupy the hours I spent alone other than books and newspapers. Reading was my one joy. It was my keyhole to the rest of the world, and I’d been intrigued by Seattle’s world’s fair, which, unlike most of the world’s fairs I’d read about, seemed as interested in celebrating the future of America as it did in exploring its past.

“I have,” I said cautiously. It was impossible to know where Teddy’s thoughts might take him, forcing me to tread carefully.

“We should attend,” he said.

It might have sounded like Teddy was asking my opinion, but he wasn’t. I took a couple of the apple slices Teddy had cut for me, and some cheese. It was difficult for me to eat immediately upon waking, but I tried to force what I could into my stomach because I never knew if I’d have the chance later.

“I’d like that,” I said, and it was the truth. If the stories were to be believed, the eyes of the world would be on Seattle during that fair. The exhibits alone were sure to be worth the cost of admission, but I doubted the fair’s educational value was what had caught Teddy’s attention. If he was considering going, it was because there was something he wanted to steal.

“Not as visitors,” Teddy said. “I think it’s time we try something new.”

“New, sir?”

“Over the years, we’ve robbed banks, stolen priceless works of art, and swindled the wealthy of all but the clothes they were wearing.” He sipped his tea but couldn’t help wetting the ends of his mustache. “Hasn’t it grown a bit boring?”

My heart fluttered. If there was a chance, no matter how small, that Teddy might be contemplating quitting our villainous life, then I had to encourage him. But I had to do so without sounding too eager.

“I suppose it has, sir.”

Teddy glared at me, flaring his nostrils. “Don’t pretend you don’t hate what we do. I’m not a fool, Wilhelm.”

“Of course you’re not, sir.”

“Then, when I ask for your opinion, give it to me truthfully or not at all.” His frown smoothed into something approaching a sympathetic smile. “I would never punish you for honesty.”

“The truth is that I despise stealing, and I’d give almost anything to quit.”

Teddy smacked the table. “That’s my boy.”

“Have you a new career in mind?”

“In fact, I do.” Teddy cleared his throat as if he were waiting for the attention of an entire audience rather than just one captive boy. “How would you like to be a magician’s assistant?”

I couldn’t hide my confusion, and I was too bewildered to remember to try. “Who would be the magician, sir?”

Teddy scoffed. “I would, of course.” He stroked the narrow end of his mustache, and his eyes seemed to lose focus, as if he could already picture himself onstage.

“But why?” I blurted out the question before thinking it through, and it was the bucket of water that dampened the flame of Teddy’s excitement.

“Why?” he asked, his voice catching an edge. “Why? Because I said so, that’s why.” Teddy was on his feet in an instant. He swept the small plate I was eating from to the floor and smacked the side of my head hard enough to cause my eyes to tear.

“I wasn’t questioning you, sir,” I said. “I’m sorry. I only meant to ask what interest you have in becoming a magician.”

Teddy’s rages were like a sneeze—a burst of fury without warning but quickly gone. “Not just a magician,” he said. “The greatest magician the country has ever seen. I want people to know my name. I want the whole world to know who I am.”

“Then they will, sir.” I supposed Teddy could have believed that he could earn more recognition being a legitimate stage magician than he had as a thief, but I suspected there was more to his plan than he was telling me. However, I couldn’t press him further without incurring more wrath, so I put on my smile and became the agreeable, biddable young man he wished me to be. “Where should we begin? I don’t know anything about magic.”

“The first thing I’ll need,” Teddy said, “is a name.”