Fortune's Journey by Bruce Coville

moths to a lantern.
    Before long an impromptu dance was going full swing around them, people clapping and singing and stomping with the rhythm of their music. Two other men showed up with fiddles, someone made rhythm on a washtub, and someone else started twanging on a Jew’s harp.
    â€œYes, sir!” cried Mr. Patchett gleefully. “It’s just like your father always said, Fortune. Wherever there are people, there’s a need for entertainment. We’re doing the smart thing all right, just you wait and see.”
    Later on, as Fortune and Walter grew tired, the party began to wind down. Singly and in pairs, their fellow travelers headed reluctantly back toward their own wagons.
    The actors gathered around the fire once more, and Fortune found herself sitting between Jamie and Aaron. She felt warm, comfortable, and pleasantly tired.
    The talk turned then, as it always did, to theater. For a while they discussed their plans for San Francisco, and their dream of building their own theater. At Walter’s urging, Fortune got out a drawing Aaron had made to show what her father had had in mind.
    â€œIt’s beautiful,” said Jamie appreciatively.
    â€œAnd we’ll all have shares in it,” said Walter proudly.
    Next the conversation turned to the past. Fortune loved this part, loved listening to the three older actors tell of their experiences onstage, the crazy things that had happened to them over the years, the practical jokes they had played—or been the butt of.
    Mrs. Watson told a story she had heard about the wild adventures of the famous Lola Montez, whom she greatly admired.
    â€œI’d love to see her do that spider dance of hers someday,” she added wistfully.
    Mr. Patchett launched into one of his own favorite stories, the one about the time his suspenders had broken in the middle of a dramatic monologue, and he had had to finish both the speech and the ensuing love scene with one hand holding up his trousers. Fortune loved the story; no matter how many times she heard it, it made her laugh.
    Eventually the conversation came around to the fire in Busted Heights, and what each of them had done that night.
    â€œWasn’t that bad,” said Walter in summation. “They had a theater fire in Richmond back in 1811 that killed seventy-one people. It just about stopped theater right across the country…for a while, at least. All we did was burn down a building or two.”
    â€œWe did not!” said Fortune indignantly.
    â€œMight as well have,” said Walter, “since we got kicked out of town anyway.”
    â€œIt’s an actor’s lot,” sighed Mr. Patchett. “As you’ll soon find out, Mr. Jamie Halleck. Any regrets yet on tying your fortunes to a band of traveling players?”
    â€œI’ve never had so much fun in my life,” said Jamie.
    His shining eyes made it obvious that he meant it.
    Fortune’s sense of warmth and safety evaporated the next day when Jamie forced her to come face to face with how woefully under-prepared they were for the journey facing them. Greenhorns that they were, they had been totally oblivious of this fact until he suggested they take an inventory of their equipment.
    â€œAfter all,” he said, “we’re going to be traveling close to two thousand miles, and this is our last good chance to stock up. Better to pick up some small thing you’ve forgotten now than to have to borrow it on the trail.”
    His slight smile made Fortune wonder if he harbored suspicions they might have forgotten more than “some small thing.”
    Yet even that hint did not prepare her for his shock when they unpacked the wagon to show him what they had. For a time he just stood in front of the pile of gear, shaking his head in amazement. “Did you think you were going to find stores all along the way?” he asked at last.
    Fortune would have resented the sarcasm inherent in the question