A Spotlight for Harry (6 page)

“Thank you. That’s just what Harry needs,” said Dr. Reeve. The doctor dipped his handkerchief in the bucket. He wiped the blood from Harry’s mouth.

“Take some water and spit it out,” he told Harry, handing him a tin cup. Harry sipped from the cup and spit. The water came out pink. It was the same color as the embroidered
flowers on Mama’s best tablecloth, Harry noticed. “Now open wide.” Harry opened his mouth so Dr. Reeve could examine his teeth.

“How old is Harry?” the doctor asked Rabbi Weiss.

“Seven. He’ll be eight in March,” Harry’s father answered.

“Then he’ll be all right,” the doctor said. “He’s lost two teeth, but they were only baby teeth. His permanent teeth will grow in soon. Nobody will ever know he had two teeth missing, unless he decides to go swinging from ropes again.”

“Don’t worry. That won’t happen,” Monsieur Weitzman said. He kneeled down to have a talk with Harry and Dash. Harry couldn’t speak. He had to keep the cold, wet handkerchief pressed against the empty space in his gums to stop the bleeding. But
Dash could speak for him. Dash always knew what Harry was thinking.

“Listen, boys,” Monsieur Weitzman began. “A trick may look easy. That doesn’t mean it
is
easy. There’s also something else to remember. What you think you see may not be what’s really happening.”

“What does that mean?” Dash asked. Harry nodded. He had the same question.

Monsieur Weitzman looked around to see if anyone else was listening. The crowd at the barn had broken up. Most of the people began walking back to town once they learned that Harry would be all right. Harry’s parents were talking with Dr. Reeve and Miss Purdy. Satisfied, Monsieur Weitzman took what looked like a shoe heel out of his pocket and showed it to the boys.

“What’s that?” Dash asked.

“It’s the secret to the rope trick,” Monsieur
Weitzman whispered. “It’s a special rubber plate that’s made to fit my teeth. I attach it to the rope, then bite on it.”

“So you’re biting on the plate, not the rope,” Dash said.

Harry’s eyes opened wide. Now he understood. Biting down on a rubber plate with all your teeth had to be easier than trying to bite on a rope with your two front ones. His two front teeth could never have held his whole weight for long. Why hadn’t he realized that before? It made so much sense.

“Why didn’t you tell us about the plate?” Dash asked Monsieur Weitzman.

“You didn’t say you were going to try hanging from a rope by your teeth,” Monsieur Weitzman replied. “You just told me that you wanted to practice tightrope walking. Had you told me you wanted to try the rope trick, I would have told you not to.”

Then Harry spoke. He pulled the handkerchief out of his mouth and said the words slowly so Monsieur Weitzman could understand him. “Then none of it’s true,” he said with great disappointment. “You
cheated! It’s just a trick. Anyone can do it.”

“No, that’s not how it is at all!” Monsieur Weitzman told Harry and Dash. “Can anyone do it? I don’t think so. How many people do you know who would hang thirty feet in the air, holding on to a rope with just their teeth? It takes skill, courage, and practice. I did what I promised. I hung in the air by my teeth.” He winked at Harry and Dash. “I just didn’t do it the way you expected.”

“I’m starting to understand what you mean,” Harry murmured. “What matters is what you do, not how you do it.”

“That’s part of it,” Monsieur Weitzman exclaimed. “There’s also something else. You don’t just rush off to perform a feat. You study it. You learn about it. You talk to people who have done it. If you can, you practice with them. You plan ahead so that you’re ready to deal with anything that might go
wrong. Yes, imagination and courage are important. But so is preparation. Being prepared will save your life when the unexpected happens. And it will happen. You can count on that.”

“I already found that out,” Harry said through his missing teeth.

“Accidents happen,” Monsieur Weitzman replied. “If you learn the lesson the hard way, you’ll never forget it. Once you’ve mastered that lesson, you can leap through fiery hoops and you can tame lions. You can do whatever you set your mind to doing. The rest will come in good time, Harry. One day, I have no doubt, you’ll be a showman.”

N
ot everyone agreed. Harry’s parents didn’t. Seeing Harry lying on the grass, his face smeared with blood, they feared he had been badly hurt. Once Dr. Reeve told them Harry would be fine, anger replaced fear.

“How could you be so foolish!” Rabbi Weiss shouted. “You’re the older brother, Harry! Mother and I count on you to set an example for Dash. What kind of example is this? Swinging from ropes like a monkey!”

“Don’t be so hard on him, Mayer. He and Dash were only having fun,” Harry’s mother pleaded. “They were trying to perform the tricks they saw in the circus. They imagined themselves to be circus stars. Don’t you remember when you were young and all the things you imagined yourself doing?”

“I never imagined myself hanging from a rope like an ape!” Rabbi Weiss shot back.

Harry’s mother smiled. “Perhaps not. But didn’t you have some other dreams? Like riding horses bareback in the arena? Shall I tell the boys about them?”

Harry and Dash leaned forward to listen. As far as they knew, their father had always been a rabbi. He had wanted to be a rabbi since he was as old as they were. At least, that’s what they believed. Maybe it wasn’t so. Did grown-ups have secrets? Had their father once dreamed of being a circus rider?

“Never mind!” Harry’s father said. His voice was stern, but the twinkle in his eye let the boys know their punishment wouldn’t be so bad. Mother had won the argument, as she always did. Their father had not forgotten what it was like to be young. Or to have dreams.

“It’s bad enough that you frightened Mother and me out of our wits. You scared the whole town, too.”

“And what of Miss Purdy’s barn?” said Harry’s mother. “You left a mess. There’s blood, straw, and hay all over the place. Who is going to clean it up?”

Harry and Dash hung their heads. “We will, Mama. We’re sorry, Papa. It won’t happen again,” said Harry.

“Then that will be your punishment,” said Rabbi Weiss. “If you clean up the barn and put everything back the way it was, we’ll
speak no more of this. And there will be no more fooling around with ropes, either walking on them or hanging from them.”

“Yes, Papa,” Harry and Dash agreed.

The next morning dawned bright and sunny, a perfect summer day for having fun. The children of Appleton, Wisconsin, were already making plans for going fishing, playing ball, riding horses, rolling hoops through the street, and dozens of other ways to enjoy themselves. All the children … except two. Harry and Dash. The morning sun found them trudging along the street to Miss Purdy’s house.

Harry carried a rake over his shoulder. His mouth hurt, and it was hard to speak clearly without his two front teeth. His body was bruised from the fall. However, as much as Harry moaned and groaned, Rabbi Weiss
ignored him. Harry’s injuries weren’t so serious that they should prevent him from cleaning up the barn.

Dash walked beside Harry, carrying a broom. He didn’t think it was fair that he should have to clean up the barn, too, when Harry had been the one who tried to hang from the rope. This argument did not impress Harry and Dash’s parents one bit.

“Doing a few chores won’t kill you,” Mama Weiss said. “It’s time you boys learned to clean up after yourselves.”

If Mama with her kind heart was not going to save them, no one would. Harry and Dash walked slowly. All the children in Appleton knew where they were going. Each one, it seemed, had something to say.

“Hey, Harry! Show us how to whistle!” the boys yelled.

“Let’s see your teeth!” the girls called.
They laughed and hooted, but it was all in fun. Harry had to bear it.

Harry and Dash knocked on Miss Purdy’s front door. Miss Purdy smiled to see them. “Hello, boys! What brings you here this fine
morning? You’re not going to hang from any more ropes, are you, Harry? I hope not. I feel terrible about your poor teeth.”

“It’s not so bad, Miss Purdy. They’ll grow back,” Harry said, speaking slowly so Miss Purdy could understand him. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t help lisping and whistling.

“You don’t have to worry about us hanging from ropes. Or walking on them, either,” Dash added. “Mama and Papa told us to keep our feet on the ground or we’ll never get to go to the circus again. They told us we had to clean up the mess in the barn and put everything back the way it was. That’s why we’re here.”

“I don’t think you left such a terrible mess,” Miss Purdy told them. “Harry was hurt. We all were frightened. We all had more important things to attend to than a pile of hay in an old barn. I’ll tell you what—
why don’t you get started? I was about to bake some oatmeal cookies. They should be done by the time you finish.”

“Thank you, Miss Purdy!” Harry and Dash exclaimed at once. “We’ll get the barn cleaned up right away.” They hurried off to the barn, carrying the rake and broom.

“It may be locked,” Miss Purdy called after them. “Come back if you need the key.”

The barn door was locked, but Harry didn’t need the key. It took him less than a minute to pick the lock. He and Dash began raking up straw and hay.

“It sure is a big pile,” Dash said. “I wish we had a wheelbarrow. We could carry it out faster if we had a wheelbarrow.”

“Maybe there’s one in the barn,” Harry said. “I’ll look.” He had hardly turned down the aisle when he heard Dash cry out.

“Harry! Come here! Look what I found!”

Harry came running. He saw Dash holding up a pair of rings connected by a few links of chain. Handcuffs!

“Where’d you find those?” Harry asked.

“They were in the hay pile. They weren’t there when we were playing with the rope yesterday. Where did they come from?”

Harry took the handcuffs from Dash. He turned them over in his hands. “I think I know,” he finally said. “Sheriff Lennon must have dropped them when he bent down to carry me outside.”

“We’ll have to bring them back,” said Dash.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “But not right away. I want to study them first.”

“What for?” Dash asked. “Are you planning to have Sheriff Lennon lock you up?”

“No,” Harry said. “Handcuffs are interesting. They’re just another kind of lock. I
wonder how hard it would be to get out of them.”

“Plenty hard,” said Dash.

“Maybe not. Let’s find out,” said Harry. He placed his hands behind his back. “Put the cuffs on me, Dash. Make them as tight as you can.”

Dash shook his head. “Oh no, Harry! This is just going to get us in trouble, and we’re in trouble already. You’re going to get locked in those handcuffs. How are you going to get out of them? We don’t even have the key.”

“I don’t need a key,” Harry said. “And I will get out of them. Try me!”

“Okay,” Dash said as he snapped the handcuffs over Harry’s wrists. He tightened them as far as they would go. “Now let’s see you get out of them!”

“Turn around and count to three,” said Harry.