We’d gone quiet all at once when the house lights dimmed, then refocused into a bright spot onstage where the juggler stood. He performed well enough—didn’t drop a single pin—and when he was done, the applause fired off haltingly until a voice ruptured forth: “Can you juggle me?”

“I don’t see why not,” the juggler said.

He lifted the first volunteer, then another, until three human bodies were twisting above his head like weightless dolls. Still, no one cheered.

“Tell us a joke,” someone pleaded.

But the juggler was focused only on keeping them aloft. “I can’t do everything.”