Surprised, Jakey and Sis gasped and grabbed at the chairs for support, then laughed at their own nervousness. The audience laughed with them and applauded mightily. The Minotaur squatted again and lowered the chairs lightly to the stage, then stood up. Perspiration sparkled on his chest and shoulders.
Jakey and Sis grinned in embarrassment and hurried back to their seats. Smiling broadly, Louis held up his hands. “Thank you, Mr. Dunlap and Miss Redwine. If any of you think what you have just seen is a trick, I invite you to try it when you get home tonight—with empty chairs. Is there anyone in the audience who would like a closer look at the Minotaur?”
Finney sprang to his feet like a jack-in-the-box. The Minotaur moved to the front of the stage as the houselights went up. He turned toward Finney, then stepped off the stage and went to him. He bent over so his head was level with Finney’s and looked at him from brown, liquid, kindly eyes. Finney tentatively reached out his hand and touched one of the horns lightly. He ran his finger to the point, then to the base surrounded by hair. He pulled his hand back quickly and grinned at the wonder of it all. The Minotaur smiled and softly stroked Finney’s hair with his large hard hand. Finney’s arm prickled with goosebumps. The Minotaur straightened and moved to the front of the aisle. Finney sat down slowly. Jack grabbed his arm.
“Is there anyone else?” Louis asked.
The Minotaur walked carefully down the aisle, looking around him, smiling slightly. The silent audience watched him nervously.
Harold stood up when the Minotaur reached the bench on which he sat. “Yes, I would,” he said.
“Harold,” Rose hissed.
The Minotaur stopped walking and stepped toward him, leaning over slightly. Harold sat fourth from the aisle. He reached over Rose, Billy, and Francine and grasped one of the horns. He tugged at it with moderate force, then felt around the base, pushing the hair aside to examine the juncture. The Minotaur, apparently accustomed to such liberties, made no objection.
The Minotaur’s leg touched Francine’s knee. She jerked it away with a little gasp. The contact was like an electric shock, adding fuel to the heat already enclosing her body. The Minotaur shifted his gaze from Harold to her, looking into her eyes. He smiled. Francine quickly looked away, fleeing his eyes, pulling her head down.
Then she was looking at the protruding fabric of the Minotaur’s loincloth, only a foot from her face. She could smell the odors of his body and see the fine hairs glistening on his stomach. Her throat constricted and her face began to tingle. She forced her eyes shut, but her eyelids seemed made of glass. Tears squeezed from her compressed eyes and rolled down her cheeks.
The Minotaur watched her, still smiling.
Harold finished his examination. “Uh… thank you,” he said timorously and sat down. The Minotaur took a step backward and continued toward the rear of the tent.
Billy leaned across Rose. “Well?” he asked excitedly.
Harold shrugged. “It’s a great makeup job. I couldn’t tell how they were fastened. They didn’t budge a bit when I pulled on ’em. If I didn’t know better, I’d think they were real.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “I wish I could examine the hoofs.”
Billy turned back to Francine and saw her closed eyes and pinched face. “What’s the matter with you?” he asked, half-concerned and half-amused.
The others turned to look at her. None of them had noticed her reaction; they had been watching Harold and the Minotaur. Francine quickly wiped the wetness from her face with her fingers and sniffled. “Nothing,” she said quietly. “Nothing’s the matter.”
Billy gave her his handkerchief and she daubed at her eyes with it.
“Are you sick?” Harold asked. “Do you want to leave?”
“No,” Francine said tensely, twitching her head. “I’m not sick. I don’t want to leave. I said nothing’s the matter.” She gave Billy his handkerchief and wouldn’t look at them.
Rose watched her with a little ghost of a smile and a twinkle in her eye.
The houselights went off and applause rose around them, drawing their attention to the stage where the Minotaur bowed as the curtains slithered together and blocked him from view. There were more grating sounds as something heavy was moved behind the curtain.
Louis stepped forward. “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.” He paused until there was complete silence.
“There are many strange stories of the sea and the marvelous creatures who dwell there. One of the most awesome of these sea-creatures is the mermaid—half woman and half fish. Are they one of nature’s mistakes? One of nature’s experiments that didn’t work? Or are they one of nature’s secrets? Ladies and gentlemen, decide for yourselves.”
He gestured grandly and the curtain opened on a large water-filled glass tank. A slight rustle swept the tent as the audience strained forward to get a better look.
The creature floated in the tank, her body rotating slowly with the movement of the water. She was a fish from the waist down, but barely human from the waist up. Her body was greenish-gray and leathery. Her small breasts were like deflated bladders. Her arms were small and her fingers stubby and webbed. Her head was bald and scaly; her mouth very small with horny lips; her eyes round and lidless like a fish. Her ears were tiny holes. She had the look of being half-finished.
Rose leaned across Harold, bracing herself with a hand on his thigh, and whispered to Evelyn. “What did I tell you? It’s just an old dead fish.”
Then the Little Mermaid moved. She swam around in a tight circle, gracefully undulating her tail fins. She stopped and put her hands against the glass, looking at the people with eyes like pearl buttons. The gasps and murmurs gradually turned to applause.
“The poor horrible thing!” Evelyn said.
“There she is, ladies and gentlemen: the Little Mermaid,” Louis called. “What secrets does she hold? What does she think about? We’ll never know because she does not speak.”
The curtain closed and the applause died.
“How did they do that, Hal?” Rose asked.
Harold shrugged. “I’m not sure. It’s probably somebody in a costume.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, our next guest is already here. She’s been standing right beside me for the last five minutes.” He looked around furtively and then laughed. “At least, I think she’s standing beside me. Are you there, invisible woman?”
“Yes, I’m here.” The voice was musically feminine and seemed to originate in the air beside Louis. Laughter rippled from the audience.
“Don’t you think it would be a good idea if you got dressed so the people can see where you are?” Louis asked, laughing with the audience.
“Oh, very well,” the voice pouted. “But it’s been such a dreadfully warm day and this tent is so stuffy. It’s so cool and comfortable without clothes.” There was more laughter from the audience.
“Please!” Louis gasped with mock indignation that managed to be half leer. “You’ll shock these nice people. There are children in the audience.”
“But I don’t have a thing to wear,” the voice complained.
“I’ll fix that,” Louis said with a flourish.
A roustabout came through the curtains, disinterest on his good-looking face and a red dress over his arm. He held gloves, a hat, and a pair of shoes in the other hand.
“Will these do?” Louis asked with a little bow to the empty air.