More smiles. Good. Ba always said even the best performer in the world won’t get a farthing if the audience doesn’t like you. But the relationship is a fickle one, and an audience can turn on you if you don’t deliver what you promised.

The deck heaves again, and the pineapple tips. With my hands held out, I slide in one direction, coaxing it back in place. A murmur ripples through the crowd. A lady in a seal fur coat covers her eyes, as if the sight of a crushed pineapple might be more than she can bear.

“But really, juggling is simply a series of throws and catches.”

I glance toward Olly. Instead of tossing me the bread heel like we rehearsed, Olly can’t seem to take his eyes off the pineapple. I jab him with another look, but he’s still watching my crown.

Cod’s sake. I shouldn’t have put the lads in the routine. I forgot how easy it is for first-timers to freeze up.

Wink hisses at his mate. Olly snaps out of it and tosses me the bread heels: one, two. That’s it, lad. I wink at Olly, glad his part is over.

I knock the heels together, making a clapping sound. “No, ladies and gentlemen, these are not chunks of granite. It’s the bread they served us for lunch today in third class.” A few disbelieving chuckles float from the audience. “I’m not sure why we haven’t sunk yet.” The chuckles take shape.

I begin tossing the heels up and letting them fall into the same hand. Up, down, nice and easy. Catch and throw, catch and throw. “Every day, life throws us . . . bread heels. The more we practice catching them, the more prepared we are when”—I begin tossing the heels across my center so that right catches left, and left catches right—“the heels change course.”

I let a few cycles pass, to allow folks to see the pattern, then glance at Wink. He tosses his heel. It goes high, and my pineapple wobbles!

Hands cover faces. Breaths are sucked in.

Wink’s heel falls into my hand. And just like that, the third player enters the ring. My hands move on their own, honed by years of practice with anything handy—shoes, rolled-up socks, tree pods, and, when Ba was on a winning streak, oranges, nature’s gold nuggets.

The heels reach their apex in front of my nose, tracing a sideways figure eight through the air. I bring them down to chest level, moving faster and faster. People begin to clap, and the clapping grows.

I slow down the juggling by tossing the heels higher. “Of course, sometimes life throws you more than you expect.” I glance at Wink, and more carefully this time, he lobs me his second heel.