The Autobiography of Mrs. Tom Thumb - Melanie Benjamin [15]
“My boat. My floating palace of entertainment. We sail up and down the rivers out west, bringing amusement to the poor, hardworking folks who have no other kind. I have minstrels, jugglers, dancers, and some curiosities—a man who can swallow nails, a tattooed man, a giantess. But what I don’t have is a—I mean, as soon as I heard of Miss Lavinia here—and, of course, our cousinly connection—and now that I know she’s a true artist, as well—I thought she might be interested in joining me. Singing, of course—just like a certain Miss Jenny Lind? A certain General Tom Thumb?” Colonel Wood winked at me.
You could have heard the proverbial pin drop in that parlor: Nobody moved; everyone looked stunned. Mama could not shut her mouth; had I not been as astonished as she, I would have teased her about catching flies. My three brothers likewise did not say a word. Papa’s face turned a dangerous red.
My own heart beat fast. No, no, I couldn’t possibly do what the Colonel suggested. An entertainer? On the stage—like Miss Jenny Lind? It was shocking, it was unheard of, it was—
Enticing.
Never before had I imagined leaving home, but that wasn’t because of lack of desire, only lack of possibility. All those nights of yearning, of hearing my mother weep for my lonely fate! For a woman in a small town in Massachusetts, naturally, marriage was the only possible way out of anything. It was the only possible way to anything, as well; it was the only possibility, period. And I would never marry any of the men here in Middleborough; how could I? The idea seemed grotesque to me, for reasons I could not quite explain. I remembered my mother’s and sister’s horror that day I had eavesdropped, the lack of a hope chest, the relief my parents had felt when I had been offered the primary classes. This was my fate—to be a spinster schoolteacher. I knew I was supposed to be grateful for it.
Suddenly, however, another possibility had just been revealed; a way out presented itself to me. I could leave; I could see the world, that great big world Mama had unknowingly tempted me with for so long. I could see the Mississippi, that Queen of Rivers! I might even see bad men and women, and I admit to an unladylike thrill as I contemplated this, for there were no bad men and women in Middleborough, except for the peddler who sometimes stole chicken eggs. My yearning, seeking heart began to swell; it was as if a hidden dam of pent-up frustration had burst inside it, flooding me with desire and action. Oh, what else might I find, that I had not even known had been missing? What else might I see, that I had never before suspected was hidden from me?
I looked around at my family; they were beginning to regain their senses. Not one of them glanced my way; they seemed acutely embarrassed by me at that moment. Embarrassed that I had brought such a man into their home and submitted them to such dreadful talk, talk that was not fit for descendents of one of the Mayflower signers. Benjamin was already shaking his head, ready to answer for me.
“I want to do it!” The words flew out of my mouth before I had even decided on them.
“You most certainly do not!” my father thundered, rising in anger, his face so dark the veins on his forehead pulsed. He had never before spoken one harsh word to me; now, he seemed perilously close to an apoplectic attack.
“Pa’s right,” Benjamin cried. “If Vinnie goes with this man, I’ll leave this house forever! I won’t be able to bear the shame!”
“What shame?” Colonel Wood asked the company at large, his demeanor suddenly calm in the face of our collected agitation. “What shame is there in bringing joy to people? Becoming rich and famous?”
“The shame of the theater! Of being around actors and dancers and who knows what else! The shame of being displayed before the public like a—it’s bad enough with the school, you know, the way people talk, but if she goes out like that, like that Tom Thumb freak who