by Mike Resnick
“Jesus, it's cold out there!” said Thaddeus, ushering the other two inside and rubbing his hands together briskly.
“Good morning,” said Scratch.
“Good morning yourself,” said Thaddeus. “Tojo, are we set to roll?”
“Everything's loaded except the dormitory tent,” I told him.
“Good. Have Monk back his bus up to it and load the aliens into the back. Then have him stop by here to pick up Scratch, Rainbow, and Dapper Dan.”
He turned to Mr. Ahasuerus and Mr. Romany. “You two want to ride with the others?”
“That will be perfectly acceptable,” said the blue man.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Not too far away,” said Thaddeus. “Tell everyone to form a caravan and follow me.”
“Who did I go with?”
“You go with me. And bring along a pencil and some paper.”
Monk got the aliens loaded in about an hour—we took a little more care with them this time—and then, when all the trucks and vans and trailers and buses were lined up, I climbed into the van and Thaddeus pulled out and turned south on a nearby state highway.
“Got that paper?” he asked, lighting up a cigarette.
“Yes,” I said, pulling out a notepad and a ballpoint pen.
“Good. Write these names down: Monk, the Dancer, Diggs.” Suddenly the car ahead of us hit a patch of ice and started skidding, and Thaddeus concentrated on his driving for the next mile or so. “Where the hell was I?” he asked at last.
“Monk, Dancer, Diggs.”
“Right. Put down Gloria's name, too.” He paused for a minute. “Barbara and Priscilla and Swede. And what's the name of that blond girl who works the Fascination game for the Rigger—the one with the big boobs?”
“Jenny.”
“Right. Jenny. Put her name down. And Stogie, I suppose.” He paused again, as if considering. “Yeah. Put Stogie's name down. And that redhead with the tight little ass who worked with the Dancer last month before we stuck her out with Diggs.”
“Lori?”
“Yeah, I think so.” He snuffed out his cigarette. “And Fast Johnny.”
Fast Johnny Carp was the Rigger's second-in-command, and I scribbled his name on the pad.
“You got it all written down?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Okay. Fold it up, stick it in your pocket, and don't lose it.”
Thaddeus turned the radio on then, cursed it roundly when he couldn't find any sports events, and finally settled for a rather tinny country-and-western music station. We drove in silence for almost two hours, then turned off onto a side road, went about a quarter of a mile, and came to a stop.
Thaddeus reached over to the glove compartment, opened it, and pulled out a couple of sheets of paper that bore his unmistakable scrawl. He studied them for a moment, then laid them on the dashboard and started the van again.
The terrain became hilly, then mountainous, and the road grew more hazardous. Thaddeus kept referring to his notes, though, and continued driving despite the dangerous conditions. At last he came to a large flat field and pulled onto it, and the rest of the caravan followed suit.
“Okay,” he said, turning off the ignition. “Round up everyone but the aliens and tell them to come on over here. I've got something to say to them.”
It took a few minutes—there were thirty-two of us—but before long we were all standing in front of the van. Then Thaddeus climbed out and faced us.
“I just want to announce that there are going to be a few changes around here,” he said, walking back and forth to keep warm. “I've taken on a couple of partners, and from now on we're going to have two divisions, just like the Greatest Show on Earth.”
He paused for a reaction, but it was too cold for anyone to do anything except just listen.
“Most of you will be staying with the main division, the one you've been working with. Mr. Romany will be in charge of it. You'll play up and down the Atlantic seaboard, just like we've always done. Everyone who stays with this division will be getting raises, starting today.”
That brought a rousing, though brief, cheer.
“Mr. Ahasuerus and I will be taking the other division a little farther afield,” he continued. “It's too damned cold to tell you what we have in mind while we're out here, but Tojo will hunt each of you up and we'll talk about it in my trailer. That's all.”
He walked around to the trailer, which had been hitched to the back of the van, and climbed into it. Everyone else dispersed to go to the warmth of their vehicles, but I managed to grab Monk before he could return to the bus and told him that Thaddeus wanted to speak to him.
“Probably wants to tell me why I shouldn't expect a raise,” he grumbled, walking over to the trailer.
He emerged half an hour later with the strangest expression on his face, and I sent the Dancer in.
“That's the damnedest thing I ever heard!” Monk exclaimed. “I still don't think I believe him!”
“What did he say?” I asked.
“Let's go over to Buffalo Bill's trailer,” he said. “It's too cold to stand out here talking.”
I followed him, and by the time we got there the Dancer was already on his way back. Diggs was puttering around his Winnebago, and I yelled over to him that it was his turn to speak to Thaddeus.
“Did he tell you what he told me?” asked Monk when we were inside and the Dancer was shutting the door behind us.
“Probably,” said the Dancer.
“Then what are you doing back so soon? Didn't you have any questions?”
“Nope.”
“He tells you that you're going to a bunch of goddamned worlds nobody has ever heard of and you ain't got any questions?”
“I don't care who watches me, as long as I get to do my act,” said the Dancer with a shrug.
“That's not what I mean!” said Monk in exasperation. “Do you really buy all this shit about the freaks coming from other worlds?”
“Who cares where they come from?” asked the Dancer.
“Don't you understand what I'm saying to you?” insisted Monk.
“Sure. It's just not very important. Are you going or staying?”
“I'll give you a hundred-to-one it's a bunch of bullshit!” said Monk. Then he flashed a guilty little smile. “But just in case it ain't, wild horses couldn't keep me off that ship.” He turned to me. “What do you know about all this, Tojo?”
“They're aliens,” I said.
“Who's going along? Thaddeus said it would only be people he needed. Of course,” he added with a wink, “I'll bet another hundred-to-one that he suddenly finds one hell of a need for Jenny.”
“He'll be talking to Diggs and Gloria and some of the others,” I said unhappily.
“Good!” said Monk. “I can't imagine going on the road without the Rigger, no matter how far away the road is.”
And I couldn't imagine why Stogie was on the list and I wasn't. Of course, he'd work in the strip show, and I wasn't much good at anything except tending to a batch of sick tourists who were probably going straight home, but still...
“How about Alma?” asked Monk.
“I don't think so,” I replied.
“That's one way to get rid of ‘em once you're tired of ‘em!” laughed Monk.
“And I'll bet you he's not taking Big Alvin either.”
“He's not on the list,” I said.
“Gloria's going to need another protector,” said Monk. “I think I'll give the job to Bruno.”
There was a knock at the door, and a few seconds later Diggs came in. He threw his coat on a chair and walked over to join us.
“Gloria's in there now,” he told me, “and Thaddeus says he wants to see Swede next.”
“Swede?” said Monk. “What the hell do we need him for?”
“You sound like you believe all this shit,” said Diggs.
“It's a bunch of bullshit,” said Monk. “But it is a fascinating ide
a, isn't it?”
“I'd have to learn a whole new batch of card games,” said the Rigger.
“Well, if you think you're too old...” began Monk, an amused expression on his face.
“You sound just like Thaddeus!” snapped the Rigger.
“What do you mean?”
“He got me so mad I said I'd go just to show him that there isn't anyone anywhere that can con a mark like Jason Diggs.” He shrugged. “So I guess I'm going,” he concluded wryly.
The next few minutes were devoted to the future, as Monk and Diggs started laying bets on what kind of life forms they'd run into, and I started considering what I was going to do with my life, now that my family was leaving. It wasn't much of a family, it was filled with frauds and misfits and grotesques, but it was the only family I had, and suddenly I began to feel very empty inside. Memories of my childhood and my classmates and the sanitarium began racing through my mind, and I felt like I was going to cry, so I put on my coat and quietly walked out the door where no one could see me.
Gloria was just coming out of Thaddeus’ trailer, and I tracked down Swede and sent him over. Then I noticed that someone had set up the Hothouse, and I stopped by to warm up. Alma was sitting there, all alone, huddled up in her overcoat.
“Hi,” I said.
“What's happening, Tojo?” she said. “Why is he talking to Gloria?”
“He wants her for the new division.”
“Someone told me you have the list. Am I on it?”
“No, Alma,” I said. “You're not.”
“And Queenie?”
“No.”
“I thought for a minute he was going to try to split us up.” She paused.
“Where is this new division going, Tojo?”
“Pretty far afield,” I said.
“I'm not blind, Tojo,” she said. “I've seen what we've been toting around with us for the past two weeks. How far afield?”
“Very far,” I answered.
“Who is he taking?”
“A bunch of people. Anyone he thinks can pull their weight with the show.”
“What about Queenie and me, then? Why isn't he taking us?”
“You'll have to ask him, Alma.”
She nodded, and we sat in silence for a few minutes. Then I heard footsteps approaching, and a moment later Thaddeus entered the tent.
“Tojo, where the hell have you been?” he said. “I still have to see—”
He broke off in mid-sentence when he saw Alma.
“Hello, Thaddeus,” she said.
“I didn't know you were here,” he said uncomfortably.
“I was just saying goodbye to Tojo. I guess I'll be saying goodbye to most of my friends, won't I?”
“Not to your best one. You belong with her, and she belongs here.”
“But why, Thaddeus?”
“You've been a stripper long enough.”
“I don't understand,” she said.
“I've got enough strippers, and Romany is killing the meat show. Starting tomorrow, you and Queenie are running the games, unless you can convince him you're enough of an actress to put you in the specialty tent. But whatever he does, you're not going to be pawed by anyone from now on, unless you want to be.”
“But we could work your games.”
He shook his head. “I'm not taking anyone with any ties here. You've got Queenie, and Queenie's got family.”
“That's not the reason,” she said.
“All right. You couldn't earn your keep.”
“Are you taking Priscilla?”
“Yes.”
“Then that's not the reason either.”
“It's over,” he said, looking into her eyes. “It's my fault, and I'll take the blame for it—but that doesn't alter the fact of it.”
“It doesn't have to be,” she said without conviction.
“I thought we settled that a couple of nights ago. Queenie loves you. I'm not going to fight her to get you back.”
“I wouldn't let it happen,” she said firmly.
He sighed deeply. “You couldn't stop it from happening, Alma. All my life I've wanted what people told me I couldn't have. Why the hell do you think I'm going with Mr. Ahasuerus?”
“But—”
“It's settled,” he said sharply. Then he smiled. “You're making it very difficult for me to be noble.”
She looked at him for a long moment.
“All right, Thaddeus,” she said. “If that's the way it has to be.”
“That's the way it is,” he answered.
She ran a hand through her hair, took a deep breath, and tried to change the subject.
“Does Mr. Romany know how to run a carnival?”
“Not very well,” admitted Thaddeus. “He had a pretty bush-league operation when we found him. Of course, he was trying not to attract attention then, but just the same I think you'll have to help him in the beginning.” He, too, seemed relieved by the change in subject, and addressed it eagerly. “I bought my rides back with the money we made off the aliens. The son of a bitch I sold them to held ‘em for two weeks and sold them back for twenty grand more than he paid; I wish I'd have known I was going to need them again. Anyway, you'll have the rides and you'll keep most of the games, and of course Romany will have six or seven groups of aliens through here every year, so I imagine you'll make out okay. It's not as if he's shelling out a goddamned cent for the thing.”
“What do you get out of this deal, Thaddeus?” asked Alma.
“The stars,” he said with just a touch of irony.
She looked at him for a long time, a bittersweet expression on her face.
“You're never coming back, are you?” she said at last. It was not really a question.
“There are an awful lot of sheep up there waiting to be fleeced,” he replied.
It was not really an answer, but it served as one.
She stood up and extended her hand to him. “Good luck, Thaddeus. I'll look up every night and try to imagine where you are.”
He took her hand awkwardly. “Good luck to you too, Alma.”
Then she was out of the Hothouse and walking rapidly back to her trailer.
“How many more have I got to see on that list?” asked Thaddeus wearily.
I pulled it out and looked at it. “Seven.” I paused. “Unless you've added someone.”
“Like who?”
I found I didn't have the courage to tell him.
“Like Big Alvin,” I said lamely.
He shook his head. “Who needs a roughie on a tour like this?”
“But what about Gloria?” I asked.
“I've already talked to her. I told her I wasn't taking anyone I couldn't use, and that she could come along or stay behind as she pleased, but Alvin stayed.”
“And?”
“She's coming. It'll work out just as well for Alvin. He could have wasted another five years before he figured out that all she cares about is her dancing.” He yawned. “Jesus, I'm tired. I was up all day yesterday working this out with Mr. Ahasuerus, and then I spent half the night on his shuttlecraft's radio selling his company on the idea of a traveling carnival, and the whole time I had to make sure Romany didn't throw any monkey wrenches into the deal, and I've spent most of today convincing a bunch of con men that I'm not trying to pull the biggest con of all.”
He looked out the window and saw Stogie walking his little pet schnauzer on the snow.
“I don't know what the hell we're going to do about that dog,” he said. Then he shrugged. “What the hell. If we can carry leopards and a lion and a bear, I suppose the old bastard can take along a ten-pound dog.”
He opened the door and shouted, “Hey, Stogie—come over to my trailer! I've got to talk to you about something.”
I considered going back to the Dancer's trailer to spend a final evening with my friends, but I knew that Monk and Diggs would be talking excitedly about their future, and the future wasn't something that appealed to me at that mome
nt. So I sat in the Hothouse, totally alone, and realized that being totally alone was something I was going to have to get used to again.
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Chapter 16
The activity started the next morning, and got a little frenzied as the day wore on.
Mr. Romany and the Rigger spent a few hours dividing up the games, arguing about who got which. Monk decided that he had no confidence in Mr. Ahasuerus’ ability to get the proper food for his animals, and drove his bus—aliens and all—into a nearby town to pick up two hundred pounds of meat from a rather surprised butcher shop. One of the trucks had to be unloaded when it was discovered that the strippers’ costumes, which were going with Thaddeus, had been packed under the specialty tent, which was staying with Mr. Romany. Big Alvin got drunk and had to be restrained when he started breaking windows in a number of vans and trailers. Stogie's schnauzer got loose and didn't turn up again for almost two hours.
But finally, by late afternoon, all was in readiness, and Thaddeus announced that his division of The Ahasuerus and Flint Traveling Carnival and Sideshow would be ready to move out in ten minutes. He then rounded up a number of men from Romany's division to accompany him so they could drive the vehicles back after his group had left.
I had spent most of the day alone in the trailer, trying to work up the courage to ask Thaddeus to take me with him. Once or twice I got as far as the door, but then I remembered that he wouldn't even take Big Alvin along, and I knew there was no way I could convince him that I could earn my keep.
So I stayed where I was, and counted down the hours and the minutes.
I even considered going over to Monk's bus and throwing myself on Mr. Ahasuerus’ mercy, but I knew he had more important things on his mind than the future of an ugly little hunchback who had trouble speaking, and I couldn't bring myself to face the finality of a negative answer. I guess deep down I thought that as long as he didn't officially turn me down, there was always the chance that he might change his mind at the last minute. I wondered what odds the Rigger would give on it.
The drive to the shuttlecraft took about forty minutes. When I felt us come to a halt I looked out the window and saw that we were in a large clearing, surrounded by a snow-covered forest. The wind was blowing the finely powdered snow through the air, and even though we were less than fifty yards away I couldn't make out any of the huge craft's features. It looked more like a grounded submarine than anything else I could think of.
