And he did not threaten her. He didn’t walk near the glass, nor did he refuse to leave the saloon each time it closed. He did nothing overt, nothing that could justify the growing sense of disquiet in Amelia.
But he stayed. And he stared. And his eyes were lit by flames from within.
Levi also stayed. The former Dr. Griffin entered in the morning and took note of the man (he was easy to find if one was looking—he was the only person who did not move at all) but per Barnum’s adamant instruction did not approach the burning man.
Later, when the museum was closed, Levi admitted to Amelia that the staring man disturbed him, too.
“He doesn’t seem to blink,” Levi said. “Like a reptile. And he never takes his eyes off you, not even for a moment.”
“I don’t want him to come into the exhibit anymore,” Amelia said.
Two days of the man’s intensity had her feeling simultaneously exhausted and restless. She didn’t think she could take another day of it.
But Levi’s attempt at persuading Barnum that the man might be dangerous fell on deaf ears.
“Barnum, it’s not natural. It’s not natural the way he stands there and looks at her,” Levi said.
“You just don’t want anyone looking at her but you,” Barnum said, stirring his sugar in his coffee.
It was a mark of how distressed Levi was that he didn’t blush, or stammer, or do any of the other things that he usually did when Barnum implied that Levi was attracted to Amelia.
“You haven’t seen him,” Levi said. “There’s something very, very wrong with that man. I think he may mean Amelia harm.”
“What proof do you have of that?” Barnum asked.
“Taylor, if he’s upsetting Amelia, isn’t that enough?” Charity asked. “If she’s upset, then she might not be able to go on with the show. You might have to post signs saying that the mermaid is ill and there will be no performances.”
Ah, that was brilliant, Charity! Amelia thought.
As if she heard Amelia’s thought, Charity gave her friend a very small wink when Barnum wasn’t looking.
Barnum looked ill himself at the thought of it. “You’re not that distressed, are you? Not so much that it would make you sick?”
“He makes it difficult to perform,” Amelia admitted. “His presence is a distraction, and because I am uncomfortable it is sometimes impossible for me to eat. What if I faint under the water? What will happen then? I will have to be taken out of the tank and put to bed for the remainder of the day.”
Amelia thought this privately absurd, but it was well known that men of Barnum’s type thought women were delicate and prone to vapors. The mermaid was not above using human trickery if it meant the burning man would be removed from the museum, if it meant she would no longer have to endure the continuous pressure of his gaze.
Barnum appeared appalled at the thought that Amelia might be bedridden for a full day. She could read the words in his eyes: But the ticket sales! Who would come to the museum without the mermaid?
“Very well,” Barnum said. “Tomorrow I shall come into the saloon myself and have a look at this gentleman. If he appears to be as great a threat as you say, I will have him removed. For the sake of your health, of course.”
“Of course,” Amelia murmured.
“Of course,” Charity said.
Levi muttered something rude under his breath, but they all pretended not to hear it.
Barnum hated to admit it, but the boy and the mermaid and Charity were right. There was something very wrong with that man, the one Amelia called “the burning man.”
It wasn’t just the staring—though that was disconcerting enough—or his profound stillness. It was the way he didn’t seem to breathe, and how he seemed completely unaware of the press of people all around him.
Barnum thought if he climbed inside the man’s skull he would see only one thing—the mermaid. The man didn’t even appear to see the tank. Only Amelia.
Yes, Barnum could see how the man would make the mermaid uncomfortable. He made Barnum uncomfortable, and Barnum wasn’t the one being gaped at.
“Now do you see?” Levi hissed in his ear.
Barnum scratched his nose. “I see. What I’m wondering is how to solve the problem without drawing attention to him.”
“Send your goons out with him when the saloon closes,” Levi said. “They can encourage him to go outside and make it clear he’s not to return back in.”
“Are you implying I should incite those men to violence, Levi?” Barnum asked.
“Yes, if it’s necessary,” Levi said. “There must be no uncertainty on his part. He can’t think he’s welcome here.”
The boy really did want that staring fellow away from his mermaid, Barnum thought. Levi wasn’t the sort to condone a beating for no reason. If anything, Levi had expressed several times that he was uncomfortable with the guards Barnum hired and the threat they represented.
“And what if he does return?” Barnum asked. “What then?”
“I can sketch a likeness of him,” Levi said. “We can give it to the ticket takers and the guards at the front door and tell them he’s not to be allowed in.”
“It’s a solution,” Barnum said. “You go and get something to sketch with and make his portrait. Bring it right to the admission booth when you have it, and make one for each of those simpletons at the front door as well. They’ll need to keep it in their pocket to check against the folks coming in.”
“You’ll tell the guards here to follow the man out of the building?” Levi said, hovering instead of getting on with the task Barnum gave him.
“I’ll make sure your mermaid is safe,” Barnum said. “You used to trust me, Levi.”
Levi hesitated, then nodded and left.
It wasn’t an easy thing, getting over to the guards to speak to them. Barnum was a celebrity in his own museum. Once Levi left, many people felt free to talk to him, to compliment him for managing to get hold of the mermaid, to ask him questions, or just to shake his hand.
He fell into what he did best—performing. He told stories about the Feejee Mermaid that he claimed to have heard from Dr. Griffin. He promised all and sundry that the mermaid would be at the museum for five more months, and that they certainly should write to their relatives in North Carolina or Pennsylvania or Tennessee to come and see her. He agreed many times that the mermaid was an eighth wonder of the world.
Then the clock struck the hour, and everyone was chivvied out of the saloon. By the time Barnum managed to extricate himself from the last person, the saloon was empty. The staring man was gone.
It will be all right, Barnum told himself, though he felt a slither of unease. Levi would have his drawing, and the man wouldn’t be allowed back in the museum.
Even if he did somehow manage to pay his admission fee and enter again . . . well, Barnum would just tell the guards now what they ought to do when the next performance ended. They were to follow the staring man out and explain that he wasn’t to return. Barnum would make it clear that this explanation could be made using their fists.
Amelia climbed out of the tank and looked expectantly at him.
“Don’t worry, I’m making an arrangement,” Barnum said, turning his head away from her. The girl had no shame about her nakedness at all.
He lingered in the saloon after the performance started again, but he did not see the staring man.
There, he thought. Levi’s drawing will do the trick.