14.
Yo-yo's Little Brush
''I'VE been looking for you,'' says Rue, letting Yo-yo out from her skirts.
''My uncle told me not to trust you,'' says Yo-yo, dismayed to see that he is back in the caravan.
''Don't be silly,'' she says. ''What harm can I do? I'm a feeble, defenceless woman.'' The crinoline skirt crumples to the floor leaving Rue exposed in a white corset and white knee-length bloomers.
''You're working for Mister Vanilla!'' cries Yo-yo in despair.
''Why would I work for Mister Vanilla?'' Rue rubs her ribs. ''God, this is tight. I hate wearing corsets. Could you unlace me, sweetie?'' Rue faces a full-length mirror. ''I have to get ready for the show. Be a darling and help me undress.'' Before he really knows what he's doing, Yo-yo is behind her and fumbling at the corset strings with trembling fingers. As each comes undone, Rue sighs deeply. His knees quiver. ''You'll uncover my Edinburgh Tattoo in a second,'' she whispers huskily. The corset falls away. Yo-yo gulps. Rue is naked. She tugs at a tangle in her long blonde hair. ''This will be more fun in the Hall of Mirrors,'' she says, taking his hand and leading him out of the caravan. They cross the grass. No-one notices the tall, naked woman with the long blonde hair and the long, slim legs hand-in-hand with the thin red-headed boy in the ragged clothes.
''I need you to help me with my tattoos,'' she explains. ''You'll have to paint me.'' Yo-yo gulps again. ''You can also meet my friends, Jax and Dax. You'll like them. They're naked too.''
In the tent labelled Hall of Mirrors there are indeed many mirrors and inside the mirrors, reflected to infinity, sit the twins Jax and Dax, two more blonde-headed beauties, as naked as Rue and reflected a thousand times a thousand inside those mirrors. It is a boy's dream come true.
''Yo-yo's come to paint me,'' says Rue.
''That's good,'' says Dax (or Jax).
''That's good,'' says Jax (or Dax).
They are identical in every respect, right down to the length of their silver-blonde hair.
''Ask us a question, Yo-yo,'' says Jax (or Dax).
''Ask us a question, Yo-yo,'' says Dax (or Jax).
''Errr ... mmmm .... how many peas do you get in a pod?'' asks Yo-yo.
Dax and Jax and Jax and Dax and Dax and Jax and Jax and Jax and Jax and Dax Dax and Dax and Jax and Dax and Jax and Jax and Dax and Dax and Jax and Dax
look at each other.
''One. The others are all imitations,'' says Rue, stretching out on the grass between the twins. Her body is now covered in tattoos, red, green, blue, green, blue, red, all reflected in the mirrors a thousand times, country cottages, sandy beaches, quaint old shepherds, bouncing away into infinity. ''I need you to make a river down my back.'' She hands Yo-yo a paintbrush and rolls on to her stomach. Her back is smooth and beautiful.
''Where's the paint?'' Yo-yo sounds as though he is being strangled.
''In your brush. The paint comes out of your brush.'' She stretches slowly, spreads out her arms and fans out her hair. Yo-yo kneels beside her and applies the brush to her bare back. Instantly, silvery-blue paint bleeds on to her skin. Yo-yo grins and paints a delta between her shoulder blades then draws his brush down her spine in a thick, wavy line some three inches wide. He swirls and whirls, stipples and dibbles. Different paints leak out from the dabbling brush-tip, greens and browns for trees, yellows for reeds, whites and reds for a windmill. The riverside scene seems to swell before his eyes. As his control of the brush improves and his grip tightens, he is able to conjure cows and sheep, ducks and swans, even a little boat on her coccyx.
''Go right down into my buttocks,'' breathes Rue. Yo-yo's brush glides down to the top of the crack. ''Go on,'' she urges. He twists the tip just inside the crevice. More paint gushes from the brush in his hand and spills over Rue's smooth globes. As it flows, it forms into a waterfall with rocks and a sandy canyon. Yo-yo squats back on his haunches to admire his handiwork, his brush dangling limply between his knees, fully satisfied.
''She looks magnificent,'' says Dax (or Jax).
''She looks magnificent,'' says Jax (or Dax).
Rue rolls languidly over. Her golden hair cascades over her breasts.
''Shall I do your front?'' asks Yo-yo breathlessly. Rue reaches between his knees and takes his hand, guiding it up towards her right breast. Her deep blue eyes never leave Yo-yo's whose knees have turned to jelly. The paintbrush tip touches her teat. Red paint. Then she moves the hand and brush round her breast in circles. White paint. She laughs suddenly, a high, silvery, tinkling sound.
''I wanted Mount Everest,'' she says, ''But you've made me into a Bakewell Pudding.'' The spell is broken. Rue kneels up and admires herself in a thousand mirrors. Yo-yo sits on the grass and admires her too. ''You can do my legs a little later. Vine leaves and grapes.''
''OK,'' says Yo-yo eagerly.
''But first, it's your turn.'' Rue smiles softly. ''You can perform with me tonight.''
''Yes, please,'' says Yo-yo, his head filled with visions of mink-lined handcuffs, massage oils and fruit-flavoured rubbers.
''I mean in the circus,'' Rue laughs softly.
''In the circus,'' says Jax (or Dax).
''In the circus,'' says Dax (or Jax).
''I have to get back,'' says Yo-yo, disappointed. ''They'll be expecting me.''
''Nonsense,'' says Rue. ''We'll make you a star.'' She smiles again and snaps her fingers. ''Clothes OFF!'' Instantly Yo-yo is naked. His body bounces a thousand times off a thousand mirrors. His handsflashtohisgenitals. ''Sit down, Yo-yo. Relax. This is everything you ever dreamed of. Relax and let Dax and Jax paint you all over.''
Yo-yo sits on the grass, his legs stretched out, supported by his hands.It's better than nothing, after all. Rue paints his toes brown, then draws the brush caressingly over his foot. ''Trees,'' she says. ''Jax. Dax. Help me here.'' The twins address an arm each and paint a selection of birds and beasts. Yo-yo wonders what Doctor Molasses would say if he knew his young charge was sitting stark naked on the grass in a Hall of Mirrors, his bare body being painted by three equally beautiful and equally naked young women. It would never be allowed in Gillworthy.
The paint flows blood-warm over his skin. Rue has passed his knee and is curling brown branches and green leaves over his trembling inner thigh. Jax (or Dax) is coiling a yellow serpent up his left arm and Dax (or Jax) is painting a peacock on his back. Yo-yo grins suddenly. Doctor Molasses can kiss his painted behind.
Yo-yo has just about outgrown Gillworthy. They treat him like an invalid, an imbecile, an incorrigible villain or, more usually, a combination of all three, restricting his diet, restraining his limbs, resizing his brain. Well, when he returns ...
''Lie back,'' says Rue, ''And we'll do your chest.''
The paintbrush tickles as it deposits a golden star on each nipple and a silver white moon in his navel. His stomach turns indigo, his ribs black, though Dax (or Jax) spatters silver spots by flicking her brush over his prostrate form and Jax (or Dax) bathes his face in golden orange.
''Yo-yo the Universe,'' Rue remarks. ''That's what we're making you.'' She laughs and pushes her paintbrush into his penis. ''We could make your wee jimmy into a space rocket…'' Yo-yo closes his eyes and sinks into the earth.
Doctor Molasses will be very upset when Yo-yo walks out. He can hear the bleating voice bleating ''Please, Yo-yo, pleeeease don't go. There's so much left to do.'' Well, Doctor, you can kiss my wee jimmy…..
''It's very stiff,'' says Jax (or Dax).
''Very stiff,'' says Dax (or Jax).
''Dip it in some turpentine,'' says Rue. ''That'll soften it up. Make sure the bristles don't melt and fall out.''
Yo-yo opens his eyes anxiously. They are examining a gunged-up paintbrush. Phew! He stands up uncertainly. His face has become the sun, his body outer space, his genitals a galaxy, a swirling Milky Way. He has become the entire universe and, because of the mirrors, the Universe that is Yo-yo is utterly Infinite. Rue is the Earth in all its infinite and wonderful
bounty. They join hands, Earth and Sky, Eve and Adam. ''We'll be sensational,'' Yo-yo declares.
''Out of this world.'' Rue beams.
''Out of this world,'' repeat Dax and Jax.
Music swells from the Big Top. 'Thunder and blazes', The Entry of the Gladiators, circus music, then the martial, march-like theme to the movie Star Wars. Yo-yo puffs out his chest.
''Are you ready?'' says Rue.
Yo-yo gulps, suddenly aware that he is going to parade in the nude before six hundred people.
''Don't worry,'' laughs Rue. ''You'll be great. Just follow me.''
''Just follow Rue,'' breathe Jax and Dax.
Rue kisses him on the top of his head and, still holding his hand, leads him to the flap of the tent. He feels the soft, cool grass under his naked soles, feels the soft, cool breeze on his naked body, feels the soft, cool skin of Rue's fingers, closes his eyes, swallows his nerves and steps out into the spotlight.
Yo-yo's Weekend Page 19