The Transformation of Bartholomew Fortuno: A Novel by Ellen Bryson

Author:Ellen Bryson [Bryson, Ellen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literary, Fiction
ISBN: 9781429949477
Google: JgTINy7U0zAC
Amazon: B003JTHYPS
Publisher: Henry Holt and Company
Published: 2010-06-21T18:30:00+00:00

chapter fifteen

THE NEXT EVENING, THE MOON WAS ON THE rise, a good omen for my third trip to the Chinaman’s. Also, talk of the fire had worked in my favor. Everyone was preoccupied with the previous night’s events, making it easier for me to slip away undetected. Still, I took great care with my preparations. I’d decided to make the trip after the Museum closed, which would allow me to claim I was on my way to McNealy’s, should anybody ask. I’d wear the padded disguise I’d made to get into Iell’s show. It would help me navigate the city streets without drawing too much attention.

In order to discourage evening visitors, I’d pinned a note on the door to my room: Do not disturb—I’ve taken a sleeping potion and will see you on the morrow. And just before leaving, I swallowed not one sliver of root but two. Almost immediately, a surge of well-being helped vanquish any fear I had had of discovery.

Timing my exit to the closing bells, I slipped out into the hallway in my disguise, skittered down the public stairs and through the crowds, and left by the front doors. A gypsy carriage stopped in front of the Museum without my even having to flag it. Excellent.

In I hopped. It felt marvelous to be free and outside. The evening lamps flew by, and whatever foreboding I’d had slipped away like a dream. By the time I reached Broadway and Spring Street, my blood ran so hot, I rapped on the roof for the driver to stop. I was burning up inside and simply had to get out into the open air. After scribbling down the Chinaman’s address, I handed it to him along with a silver dollar—a ransom for a man like that.

“I’m going to walk the rest of the way. If you wait for me at this address, I’m good for another dollar.”

The cabbie tipped his hat and took off, leaving me alone in the street.

The first thing I did was look about for anyone I knew. No fleeting shadows, no mysterious persons ducking into alleys. As long as I kept my padded coat closed and bowed my head when people passed, I made my way along quite nicely. My distaste for leaving the Museum was fading with every trip. In fact, it felt so good to be in the bigger world, I actually whistled as I passed Wood’s Minstrel Hall, where Brooker and Clayton’s Georgia Minstrels had performed the previous year. Maybe after I picked up Iell’s package and delivered it to her, I’d invite her to go to the theater with me. Perhaps I could wear my padded suit. And if I took Iell with me, she could wear her veil. We both had a choice, didn’t we? This thought sat well with me, and I made a mental note to say as much to her when next we met.

A small group of gentlemen came up behind me, smoking cigars and chatting idly. I straightened my mustache and pretended to be part of their group as they crossed Broadway.

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