“A trait I inherited from Mother, along with her vivid imagination, of course.”
“Mother has a vivid imagination?”
“I would think her deciding she’d come down with scurvy would answer that for you,” Norma Jean said before her brow furrowed. “But didn’t she used to tell you stories when you were little about Pierre the Pirate and all the adventures that lady pirate experienced?”
“Pierre the Pirate was a lady?”
Norma Jean frowned. “Of course.”
Seth returned the frown. “And Pierre, the lady pirate, came from Mother’s imagination, not from a story she was merely passing on to us?”
“I don’t know of any true pirate stories that have a piratenamed Pierre—a name Mother has always adored and actually wanted to name you, until Father put up a fuss, saying Pierre McCormick would sound downright peculiar.”
Before Seth could think of anything to say to that, the tent flap snapped against the side of the tent, heralding the arrival of a man Seth assumed was Marvel the Magician, given the swirling black cape he was wearing.
Unfortunately, strolling behind Marvel were two rough-looking men, one of whom was presumably Alfred the Monkey Man, since he had a monkey wearing a dress at his side. Following Alfred was a man whose muscles rivaled Flick’s and had a parrot perched on his shoulder. The odd thought sprang to mind that the men’s arrival wasn’t as bad as it could have been, since Flick had mentioned four threatening men and Marvel had arrived with only two.
Before he could do more than move closer to Norma Jean, though, Annaliese was stalking forward, her gaze on the monkey man, or rather, on the stick the man was carrying.
“I thought I told you to get rid of the stick,” she snapped.
“I don’t take orders from some snooty girl who fancies herself an animal expert,” Alfred scoffed.
Annaliese’s eyes flashed. “You don’t need to be an expert on animals to understand that forcing an animal to perform by using pain as an incentive is inhumane.”
“Don’t know whatinhumanemeans, but I do know that the monkey cooperates better whenever it sees the stick.”
“Perhaps the monkey would cooperate without needing a stick if you’d call her by her name instead of addressing her asit.”
“Alfred’s monkey ain’t got no name,” the man with the parrot on his shoulder said. “And I ain’t got time to stand around gabbin’ about names. Marvel told us we’d get paid iffin’ we got some fool-headed young’uns unlocked from one of his malfunctioning magic boxes.”
Marvel gathered his cloak around him. “My magic boxes didn’t malfunction, Thurman. I simply misplaced the keys.”
“If you was a real magician, you wouldn’t need no key,” Thurman countered.
As the magician and Thurman began bickering, Annaliese crossed her arms over her chest and leveled a look on the men that suggested she was almost out of patience.
“Forgive me for interrupting your squabble, gentlemen, but if it’s escaped your notice, the locks are no longer an issue as the girls are, thankfully, free. That means your assistance in this troubling matter is no longer required.”
The back of Seth’s neck began to tingle when Thurman stopped mid-bicker and took to flexing his imposing muscles Marvel’s way. “Them girls being unlocked ain’t gonna be good for you since you told me that dollar you owe me would be paid, plus more, and told Alfred the same. Seems to me you’re not gonna be able to repay your debt now.”
Marvel gave his paper collar a tug before he shot a glare at Flick, who was standing in front of Coraline, Phoebe, and Mabel.
“You told me you’d watch the girls while I was gone,” Marvel all but hissed as he began dabbing at a forehead that was now perspiring.
“That’s what I was doing,” Flick argued. “And then I watched that man over there pick the locks and then watched him get the girls out of the boxes.”
“Why didn’t you stop him?”
“I wasn’t going to leave the poor girls locked up when help arrived from out of the blue.”
Marvel dabbed at his forehead again and opened his mouth, but didn’t get an opportunity to say anything else because the monkey took that moment to dart forward. It then scrambled up to Annaliese, snatched hold of the reticule that was looped around her wrist and began tugging on it, dragging Annaliese a few feet forward in the process.
Instead of tugging her reticule back, Annaliese kept a firm grip on it as she crouched down and settled one of her symmetrical smiles on the monkey, something that left the monkey freezing on the spot.
“This does not belong to you, darling,” Annaliese said in a tone that was completely opposite of the one she’d been using a moment before. “It’s mine, and you’re now going to let go of it.”
The monkey shot a look to Alfred, who gave a shake of the stick, which left the monkey chattering something in monkey language, seemingly as if she was trying to plead her case or perhaps apologize for what she’d been tasked to do. She then resumed her tugging, causing Annaliese to lose her balance and land on her backside after the monkey found success with relieving Annaliese of her bag.
