The Bridge

78

Before Madame Leroux wrapped up her show of holding cards to her head and guessing the numbers and suits, or picking people from the audience and telling them where they came from and letting them know someone just died or someone was just born, I got up from my seat and walked out of the tent.

From inside the big tent I heard whistles and clapping as I made my way through the pavilions and found Madame Leroux’s trailer.

I knocked on the door, but there was no answer. I opened the door and had a look inside.

“Hey,” a gruff voice said. “Whatcha doing there, mister?”

The voice was from a little fella in a high-top silk gent’s hat. He was wearing suspenders holding up baggy trousers over his long johns.

“Looking for Séraphine,” I said.

“This is Madame Leroux’s trailer,” he said.

Just then Madame Leroux came walking up.

“This fella was looking through your trailer,” the man said.

“Not looking through your trailer,” I said.

“Said he’s looking for...?”

“Séraphine,” I said.

“This is my trailer, young man,” she said.

“Why are you looking through her trailer?” the fella said.

“I’m not,” I said.

“Looked like it to me,” the fella said.

“Séraphine. I’m looking for Séraphine.”

“I know,” he said. “You said that.”

Madame Leroux shook her head.

“This is my trailer,” she said.

“Do you know where I can find her?” I said.

“No,” she said. “I don’t know any Séraphine.”

The little man shook his head.

“No Séraphine on this show, bub,” he said.

“I saw her,” I said. “In this very trailer when you rode into this town. I saw her in the window of this trailer.”

“I know Deputy Chastain,” Madame Leroux said. “He’s made an arrest here before and he will do it again. If I find anything missing, you could find yourself in trouble.”

I was listening to her, but I wasn’t really listening to her. I looked around, thinking, but wasn’t even sure what the hell I was even thinking about. My mind was racing as I tried to come to some understanding about everything that had led up to this very moment.

Without even thinking, I showed Madame Leroux and the fella with the top hat my badge.

“You don’t have to worry about me stealing anything from you, Madame Leroux,” I said. “I’m a territorial deputy marshal. My name is Hitch, Everett Hitch.”

“Oh,” she said, “Well, okay, I’m sorry...”

“No, no,” I said. “It’s okay.”

“Do you have a young lady on the show,” I said, “lovely, intense, beautiful, with very long dark hair, pale complexion, blue eyes. She’s slender, a little on the tall side?”

The little man shook his head.

“Sorry, young man,” Madame Leroux said. “Sounds to me you’ve been duped.”

The little fella nodded.

“No woman like that on this show,” he said. “I can tell you that for certain.”

Wallis, I thought. Wallis.

“Appreciate it,” I said. “Thank you...”

I walked off, leaving Madame Leroux and the little fella in the top hat and headed for the Boston House.

I walked briskly through the streets as my mind raced. What the hell? What was this? Who is she? Where is she? Why did she leave me to believe she was with this damn show? She was here, by God. She was most certainly here.

The Boston House was busy when I entered, and Wallis looked up at me when I walked in and made my way through the crowd and up to the bar.

“Everett,” he said with a big smile. “What can I get you?”

“Need to talk to you,” I said.

“You want something?” he said.

“Not at the moment,” I said.

“What’s up?” he said.

“You remember when I was here,” I said, “a while back? I came in when you were closing up?”

“Sure,” he said.

“You remember the woman that walked in?” I said. “We sat right there?”

“What woman?” he said with a blank look on his face.

I pointed to the table where we sat.

“Right there,” I said. “You served her a brandy.”

Wallis looked at me, maintaining the blank look on his face, then smiled.

“Well, hell, Everett, I’ve drunk my share and have dropped a few marbles in my day, but I damn sure do remember her, of course I do,” Wallis said.

“You do,” I said.

“Sure,” he said.

“Have you seen her?” I said. “Have you laid eyes on her since?”

He shook his head.

“Nope,” he said. “She sift through?”

I just looked at Wallis, then looked around the room. Everybody in the place seemed to be talking louder than they needed to be talking. I looked back to Wallis.

“I suspect,” I said.

Wallis looked at me a moment, then grabbed a bottle and poured us both a healthy swallow. He scooted the whiskey across to me and held up his glass.

I looked at the whiskey, staring at it for a moment, then picked up the glass and looked to Wallis.

“To the moon,” he said.