The Seam Sorceress

Sideshow Attractions, part 1.

As the tent flap dropped behind her, Tilly was met with a labyrinth of boxes and unused equipment. Harp music was being piped in, small and tinny, but she couldn't find the speaker. She jumped as her fingers brushed against something that felt like small, prickly pebbles, but it was only an open sack of cracked corn. Rounding a corner, a spotlight made her shield her eyes. She took cover in the folds of a crushed velvet curtain, and as her eyes adjusted, Tilly found herself in the company of the main attraction.

"It's a ... goose?"

The bird was situated in a box of straw surrounded by cotton-puff clouds, while the high pedestal that supported it was looped with green paper mache meant to look like a wild beanstalk.

"Not just any goose." The sudden closeness of GP's voice electrified the fine hairs at nape of her neck. She shivered as he leaned in. "It's Gertrude, the goose that lays golden eggs. Here, take one."

"Oh, don't trouble yourself," Tilly stammered—after all, every goose she ever had the misfortune of encountering had been mean as the devil—but her protests fell on deaf ears as GP approached the pedestal. "It's gonna be mad if you take one of its eggs."

"You worry too much. We have an agreement, don't we, Gertie?" GP patted the bird on the head, stroking back its feathers. In response, the goose's wings flared, rising and falling like an ocean wave, settling again in the boy's presence. After a long stretch of pets, GP scooped a hand under the bird in a way that Tilly was convinced would get him bit, but nothing came of it. Gertrude's webbed feet peddled helplessly in the air.

Nestled among the straw was a trio of eggs. They were larger than the chicken eggs Tilly and Booger collected every morning—one of these looked as though it'd take up an entire palm—and, most peculiarly, their surface gleamed like polished gold under the spotlight.

GP plucked one up. "Here, catch!"

Before she could protest, the egg was already swooping through the air towards her. She was torn between dodging and bracing herself for impact, but somehow, Tilly ended up catching the egg anyway. She exhaled deeply, but her relief was quickly traded for perplexity as she weighed the golden mass in her hand. "It feels hollow."

"That's because it is," GP explained, setting the goose back down. "One of the jugglers whittles in his spare time. He makes wooden shells, and we have one of the ladies slather it in gold leaf. We got a whole bucket of them in the back, in case some wise guy manages to steal one, but the fence does a good job of keeping people at bay."

Upon closer inspection, Tilly could see faint seams criss-crossing the eggs where the leaf had been applied. She frowned. "Ain't it kinda wrong, having folks line up to see something that's not even real?"

"Oh, come on now, don't be so sour grapes," GP tutted, stroking the goose under its beak. "Anybody who thinks that some traveling fair has the real golden goose and lets every Tom, Dick, and Harry come take a gander at it for a nickel probably deserves to be tricked."

Her grip on the egg tightened, but she said nothing.

"Did you get that? I said 'take a gander,' like a goose." His laughter was short-lived, smile dropping when Tilly didn't return it. He shrugged. "Besides, if we had the real golden goose, we wouldn't be running a fair, now would we?"

"I guess not." Tilly passed the egg back over. "So why is this your favorite? Just get a thrill from tricking stupid folks who don't know any better?"

He almost seemed to flinch under her words. "I don't like to think of it as tricking people. I prefer thinking of it as ... Oh, nevermind."

"No, you already got me this far." She raised a hand to pet Gertrude's back but hesitated, fingers curling with uncertainty. "Go on."