They gathered and stared curiously at the painted, lined-up wagons. In the center, with three wagons on either side, was a ticket stand with the playerless calliope beside it. A large canvas tent rose behind the wagons. Electric lights were strung over them, illuminating the paintings on their sides. A banner stretched across the entrance between two tall poles.
HAVERSTOCK’S
TRAVELING CURIOSUS
AND WONDER SHOW
it read in gold on black. Torches lined the street, adding more light and festivity. Insects flocked like a snowstorm. Moths and crickets, katydids and dragonflies, big brown beetles that buzzed like airplanes and got in the hair, shiny black beetles that scurried across the ground behind huge pincers, and three dozen kinds of bugs that could only be classified as unclassifiable.
The crowd converged and laughed and pointed and bought tickets and gossiped, what little they could over the noise of the calliope, and swatted bugs. The tickets were dispensed from a lofty perch by a plump lady rapidly approaching middle age. Her face was elaborately over made-up, causing her to look like an aging saloon girl. Her orange hair was haphazardly coiffed, erratically waved, amazingly curled, sloppily piled, and appeared on the verge of toppling around her.
She wore a low-cut satin ball gown of poisonous green. It had perspiration stains at the armpits and grime around the neckline. She received money and presented tickets with grandiloquent gestures, smiling and simpering and winking at the men. Every few moments she reached behind her neck and futilely patted stray strands of hair back into place.
Harold looked at the others and rolled his eyes. Francine poked Billy and slipped him her dollar. He quickly tucked it in his pocket.
“Remember to stay away from the Minotaur, Francine.” Rose grinned.
Francine giggled. “Oh, Rose! Don’t make me blush.”
“What are you talking about?” Harold asked.
“Oh, nothing,” Rose said airily.
They bought their tickets and moved with the crowd toward the entrance of the tent. “Boy,” Harold groaned, “this better be worth fifty cents.”
They gave their tickets to a young roustabout whose muscles rippled under his rolled-up sleeves as he tore tickets. Rose ogled him appreciatively and raised her eyebrows at Francine. Francine lowered her eyes. The man’s eyes met Rose’s and a faint smile flickered on his lips. She gave him an affronted glare and ducked under the tent flaps.
The interior was filled with rows of backless wooden benches, unpainted but polished by many backsides. Scattered on the benches were numerous cardboard fans imprinted with the Redwine Funeral Home advertisement. Many of them were already in use. Sonny picked one up, fanned himself, grinned, and tossed it back on the bench.
An aisle down the center of the tent divided the benches into two sections. A wire ran the length of the tent above the aisle with a curtain bunched at the back, as if the audience were to be divided into two parts. Half a dozen naked electric light bulbs were strung in the upper reaches in a haphazard pattern. At the front, opposite the entrance, was a small stage raised about two feet above the trampled grass floor. A curtain ran across the back of the stage, fastened with metal rings to another wire. Otherwise, the interior of the tent was featureless.
They looked around doubtfully. The benches were only about half full. They finally found room enough to sit together near the front. Finney and Jack were on the front row, talking excitedly. Evelyn and the others looked a little depressed.
“This is a wonder show?” Harold asked the air and swatted a bug from his ear.
Most of the people still outside were standing around trying to make up their minds whether to go in or not. Louis Ortiz stepped onto a platform behind the calliope. He smiled and postured, letting the women get a good look at his white teeth and well-proportioned body. Then he held up his arms. The calliope fell silent. Louis waved his arms grandly and the murmur of the milling crowd died away.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” he said, relishing the rich sound of his own voice. He stood for a moment in a dramatic pose, his arms up and his legs apart. “The Wonder Show begins in five minutes. Get your tickets for the most wondrous sights your eyes have ever seen, more wondrous than your mind has ever imagined.
“Tiny Tim, a full-grown man, but only twelve inches tall.
“The Little Mermaid. She sits in her tank of water and dreams green dreams of the sea.
“The Minotaur, a man from the neck down, but a raging bull from the neck up.
“The Medusa. To look on her face means death. One glance and you turn to stone. But don’t worry; you will see her only in a mirror, which makes it perfectly safe—just as the Greek hero Perseus saw her reflected in his shield and survived.
“The Invisible Woman. You won’t believe your eyes. You won’t believe what your eyes don’t see.
“Electro, the Lightning Man. To him a million volts is nothing more than a firefly.
“Henry-etta. Half man, half woman. One of nature’s most shocking mistakes. All of his… I mean, her… well, you know what I mean.” Louis grinned erotically. “All the secrets will be revealed—if you’re man enough to take it. And we promise not to embarrass the lovely ladies.
“The Snake Goddess. Is she woman or is she serpent? She’s both, my friends, she’s both. This ancient creature may be a million years old, a remnant of a forgotten race. Who knows?
“And the most astounding of alclass="underline" Angel, the Magic Boy. If you’ve seen magicians before, forget them. Angel is not a magician. He pulls no rabbits out of hats. He does not make pink handkerchiefs out of blue ones. What Angel can do defies description. You have to see it for yourselves. It will shock and amaze you. It may even frighten you. They’re all inside, ladies and gentlemen. They’re all alive and they’re all real.”
He glanced over his shoulder at the roustabout collecting tickets. The man gave Louis a signal. “There are only thirty-seven seats left,” he continued. “So hurry. If you don’t get in to see this show, there’ll be another in one hour. If you’re skeptical, just ask your friends as they leave the first show.” He smiled and bowed eloquently. “Thank you for your attention.”
He hopped down from the platform and entered the tent. The calliope began to play once again. The citizens of Hawley rapidly bought tickets and the allotted thirty-seven were sold in a matter of seconds. At the sale of the thirty-seventh ticket, the woman with the orange hair plopped a sign over the front of the stand: “Next Show in One Hour.” She picked up the cash box, the roll of tickets, and left without a word or a backward glance, disappearing around the side of the tent. Those who hadn’t made it to her in time murmured in disappointment.
The benches were filled. The people talked among themselves, but there was an air of tense anticipation. Louis walked up the aisle, letting his hips roll just the right amount, and stepped onto the stage. The lights dimmed slowly, leaving him in an illuminated island. Outside, the calliope stopped playing with a discordant wheeze. Louis held up his arms for silence and received it immediately.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he began with a white smile. “Welcome to Haverstock’s Traveling Curiosus and Wonder Show, where you will see wonders you’ve hardly imagined. But I’m not going to tell you about them, I’m going to show them to you!”