“Do it again,” she urged in a hushed voice, and it dawned on me that she was my first real audience. To prevent my debut from being the shortest in history, I obliged by repeating the zigzag, though deviated slightly from the French drop to vanish the button from both hands. Upon my pulling it from her ear, she silent-clapped, only to plead for more.

Alternating my methods to throw her off—sleeving, palming, lapping—I made the button emerge from her hair, then chin, and out of thin air. My skills were rusty, but the low light was forgiving. When the button fell from her nose, she covered her mouth to contain her giggles. I was contemplating another variation when she asked, “Will you teach me? Please, please, will you?” She was effusive with hope, practically vibrating.

Giving away my secrets—granted, not my secrets exactly—wouldn’t have been my first inclination. But feeling a tingling in my chest, a sense of thawing, I agreed.

Chapter 15

In a couple short weeks, I gained a devoted following. Admittedly, becoming a main attraction wasn’t all that hard when it was the sole performance around.

The curly-haired redhead, named Agatha, was the first to tiptoe over to my cot and ask to watch with Poppy. By week’s end, the only roommates not joining were a remarkably heavy sleeper and a nervous Nellie too afraid to break the rules—though not of craning her neck, evidently, to observe from her cot.

It wasn’t long before braver girls sneaked in from down the hall, expanding my nightly audience if gradually. Attendees were selective in the friends they told, cautious of jeopardizing the show. Eleven gongs from the grandfather clock downstairs signaled my act was about to start.

Some tricks I’d perform on my own, others in conjunction with Poppy. A few I allowed her to present by herself—after ample rehearsal and my approval, of course. We practiced daily, even on Saturdays while spiffed up in the playroom. Our nighttime audience kept their distance, knowing better than to ruin the magic by peeking behind the curtain, virtual as it was.

On one particular Saturday, I walked through the string maneuver with Poppy until she mastered it. Around us, children were mostly hopscotching, stacking blocks, and drawing at low tables. With Mrs. Atwood giving her standard pitch to several couples, I was able to slip out on a mission. I needed supplies for additional tricks.