Sideshow: Tales of the Galactic Midway, Vol. 1

by Mike Resnick

  “Romany give you any trouble?”

  “Some,” said Joe with a laugh.

  Thaddeus paused to watch a flock of southbound geese pass overhead.

  “How about Ahasuerus?” he asked at last.

  “The guy never showed.”

  Thaddeus looked surprised. “Even after you arrested Romany?”

  “That's right, Mr. Flint.”

  “You made sure Romany knew that I was going to take over all the freaks unless Ahasuerus wanted to talk deal?”

  “Absolutely,” said Joe.

  “How long can you hold him?”

  “Well, now, that's kind of strange, Mr. Flint,” said Joe. “If you'd asked me two hours ago, I'd have said we might hold him half a day before he got sprung, enough time for you to move out of here and not a hell of a lot more. But we offered to let him make a call to his lawyer, and he turned us down.”

  “What does that mean?” asked Thaddeus sharply.

  “It means he's in for seventy-two or ninety-six hours, depending on when his case comes up.”

  “And then?”

  “Well, we haven't really got anything on him: just a couple of charges about his license not being in order, and maybe something about the way he treated his freaks.” Joe paused and shot a quick sideways glance at the two vans. “Have you taken a good look at those things, Mr. Flint? I've seen my share of freak shows like yours before, but I never saw anything like them. I tell you, they're weird!”

  “Getting back to Romany,” said Thaddeus. “You're sure you can hold him for three days?”

  “At least,” said Joe. “Who knows? We might even stretch it out to a week if he's too dumb to ask for counsel.”

  “Okay,” said Thaddeus, producing the three IOUs and handing them back to the cops. “You did your part; I'm doing mine.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Flint,” said Joe, checking his IOU and tearing it up. The other cops did the same. “Now, about the other part of our deal.”

  “Right,” said Thaddeus, pulling out the thickest wad of hundred dollar bills I ever saw in my life, “A thousand apiece, wasn't it?”

  “That was the agreement,” nodded one of the other cops, eyeing the sheaf of bills hungrily.

  “Whose money is that?” I demanded.

  “Mine,” said Thaddeus. “Whose did you think it was?”

  “But you told me you only had eight hundred dollars!” I said.

  “I lied to you,” he replied, looking amused. “It wasn't the first time I've ever lied; I think you can be reasonably sure it won't be the last.”

  “And you're using it to buy the freaks?” I persisted.

  “Look, Shorty,” said Joe, “nobody's buying nothing. Romany is in jail, Ahasuerus has flown the coop, and no one else at that carnival knows what the hell's going on. These poor monsters would starve if they had to stay there. We're doing ‘em a favor.”

  I got so mad I couldn't force any words out.

  “Calm down, Half-Pint,” said another of the cops. “A town like ours ain't got any use for a bunch of freaks. There's a hell of a big difference between gawking at them in a sideshow and supporting them when the show goes under. Now Mr. Flint here has generously agreed to take them with him. He makes a little money, so he's happy; we get a fee for our services and stop them from becoming wards of the state, so we're happy; they get the care and attention they need, and get to do the only kind of work they're cut out for, so they're the happiest of all.”

  “It works out fine all the way around,” said Joe, grinning down at me. “Looks to me like everybody's happy except you.”

  “Oh, he'll be happy soon enough,” said Thaddeus. “It just takes him a while to adjust to new ideas.” He gave me a friendly pat on the shoulder, just hard enough to warn me not to say anything further. “Are you ready to transfer them now?”

  “Uh ... I hate to bring up crass financial matters,” said Joe, “but there's a little matter of twelve thousand dollars, Mr. Flint.”

  “I only counted eleven when I was there,” said Thaddeus. “You wouldn't be trying to charge me for Tojo here, would you?”

  “No, sir, Mr. Flint. Dave, hand me the list.” The cop named Dave dug into a pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. “Well, let's see what we got here,” said Joe, squinting at the paper. “The Man of Many Colors, the Cyclops, the Dog-Faced Boy, the Three-Breasted Woman. That's four. The Rubber Man and the Human Lizard. That's six. The Pincushion, the Missing Link, and the Elephant Woman. That's nine. The Blue Man, the Horned Demon, and the Sphinx. That's an even dozen.”

  “Blue Man?” repeated Thaddeus. “I don't remember any Blue Man.”

  “You don't?” laughed Joe. “Hell, he's the weirdest of the lot!”

  “Are you sure you didn't count the Man of Many Colors twice?” said Thaddeus sharply.

  Joe shrugged. “Take a look for yourself if you don't believe me.”

  “Tojo,” said Thaddeus, “stick your head in there and see if we've got a Blue Man.”

  I walked over to the first van. I was too small to peek in the window, so I opened the door while Dave stood beside me, brandishing his pistol.

  There were six freaks: the Dog-Faced Boy, the India Rubber Man, the Missing Link, the Cyclops, and the two females. I closed the door quickly and walked to the second van. It was dark inside, but I had no trouble seeing the Man of Many Colors: the second the cold air hit him he started changing from bright red to a cool pale blue. There were four others that I recognized, and then I saw a movement just behind the driver's seat. There was something bluish there, making the same grunting and growling noises I had heard behind the locked door of the sideshow. I caught a glimpse of a satanic countenance, much more evil and hideous than that of the Horned Demon, and I slammed the door shut.

  “He's there,” I said, shuffling hastily back to where Thaddeus stood.

  Thaddeus started peeling off 120 bills, while Joe leaned forward and helped him count them.

  “I'm still surprised Ahasuerus hasn't made a move yet,” said Thaddeus.

  “If he does, we'll know what to do with him,” Joe assured him. “I wonder how these guys have stayed in business so far? I paid a little visit to their show the other night and told Romany that a couple of the games looked rigged, and you know what he did?”

  “What?”

  “Closed them up!” laughed Joe.

  “He just doesn't understand the role of law enforcement officers in a free-market society,” said Thaddeus. He smiled with Joe, but I could tell that he was disturbed, and I knew what he was thinking: what kind of carny manager doesn't know enough to grease a few palms when he hears a pitch like that?

  We heard a sudden commotion coming from inside the barn, and all three cops jumped.

  “It's probably just a cat killing a field mouse,” said Thaddeus. “Still, I suppose we ought to get this show on the road. Tojo, have Jupiter back his bus up to the vans.”

  I directed Monk as he maneuvered the huge bus into place, and then helped him unlock the various cages. Then, with all three cops standing guard, we began moving the freaks one at a time. The Elephant Woman, her huge watermelon-like head swaying gently, almost lost her balance, and if Monk hadn't caught her she would have fallen, but otherwise we had no trouble with the first van.

  The Man of Many Colors was bright green when I opened up the second van. He walked meekly into the bus, followed by three of the others. The Sphinx seemed reluctant to move, but the Blue Man touched him lightly on the shoulder (withers?) and then he quickly leaped from the van into the bus and walked right into the cage Monk was standing next to.

  Then came the Blue Man. As he climbed down out of the van I got my first good look at him, and it scared me. He stood almost seven feet tall, and was the skinniest person I had ever seen. His eyes were slanted, more so than any Oriental's, and the irises were orange. He had no nose at all, but there were two large slits where his nostrils should have been. His mouth was small and delicate, and looked like it was
incapable of smiling. He was totally bald, and I couldn't see any hair where his eyebrows should have been.

  His arms and fingers were jointed in strange places, as if a child had drawn a stick figure in a hurry. He drew himself up to his full height and stared right at me. I backed up a couple of steps, until I was standing between Thaddeus and Joe. He looked at Thaddeus and each policeman in turn, his orange eyes seeming to glow inside his bald, angular head. Then he slowly walked up the stairs to the bus. Even Jupiter, who risked his life daily with his animals, backed off as the Blue Man went into the indicated cage and pulled the door shut behind him.

  “All set?” asked Thaddeus, and I could see that he too had been affected by the sight of the Blue Man.

  “They're upsetting my cats,” said Monk, and indeed the two leopards were hissing and spitting at the Sphinx. The lion was right next to the Blue Man, and he just stood there, nose dripping, eyes averted, trembling with fright.

  “They'll be okay,” replied Thaddeus quickly. “Follow me to the caravan and then stick the bus somewhere in the middle. If we get stopped for any reason, I don't want anyone peeking in there.”

  “Maybe you should have gotten the Dancer to ride shotgun,” grunted Monk, closing up the bus and climbing into the driver's seat.

  “You go with Jupiter, Tojo,” said Thaddeus.

  “I don't want to,” I protested.

  “Why not?”

  “I don't want to ride with him.”

  He knew what I was talking about. “He's locked up safe and sound in a cage.”

  “I don't care,” I said.

  “Well, you little bleeding-heart dwarf, you'd better start caring. About all of them.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “As of this moment, you're your brother's keeper.” He grinned as I tried to protest. “You're the one who feels so damned sorry for them, aren't you—or did I hear you wrong?”

  “The others, yes,” I said, skipping verbs in my efforts to get my objection out. “But not him.”

  “All of them,” said Thaddeus. The grin was frozen onto his face, but I could tell he wasn't kidding.

  “Please!” I said. “Don't make me do it!”

  “I can't make you do a damned thing,” he said. “But I can sure as hell make you wish you had. Think about it, Tojo.”

  I was so upset and scared that I actually started sputtering, but no words came out, and finally I sighed and climbed into the bus next to Monk.

  “I wonder if the bossman ain't bit off a little more than he can chew,” said Monk, as we fell into place behind Thaddeus’ trailer.

  As if to lend emphasis to his comment, the lion began squealing in terror as we turned onto the main highway and headed off to join the rest of the show.

  You wouldn't think that moving from Vermont to Maine would make that much difference in the weather, but it did. There was snow on the ground, and the wind whipped through the tents so fiercely that even the heaters and blowers we set up didn't really keep us warm. The food stands put away their ice-cream freezers and concentrated on pushing soup and coffee.

  Thaddeus had fired the ride men while we were still in Vermont, suggesting that they stick around there and try to latch on with the guy who had bought all the rides. He also got rid of Elmer and the rest of the actors.

  The only people he kept from the freak show were Merrymax and Little Lulu.

  Thaddeus was sure that Ahasuerus would show up, bail Romany out, and take after us with a paid posse of head-breakers. And since we were due to head south after our Vermont tour, he took us up to Maine on the assumption that Ahasuerus would never think of looking to the north with winter coming on.

  When we arrived at the first town that would let us set up shop, Thaddeus had some of the men erect tents for the freak show, the girlie show, and the specialty show. Then Diggs set up his games, the food stands were assembled, and we were all ready to open.

  That was when the problems started. Jupiter Monk presented the first of them.

  “Just what do you plan to do with all those freaks?” he said, walking up to Thaddeus, who was directing the placement of some Midway lights.

  “Display ‘em,” said Thaddeus. “What the hell did you think I was going to do?”

  Monk shook his head. “That's not what I meant,” he said. “What do you plan to do with them between shows?”

  “I suppose we'll keep them in your bus,” said Thaddeus. “They're safe there.”

  “That's what I thought you were going to say,” said Monk. He drew a deep breath. “They aren't staying in the bus. You'd better find someplace else for ‘em.”

  “What's the matter?” asked Thaddeus with a smile. “Do they make you nervous?”

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  * * *

  Chapter 5

  “They're human beings, Thaddeus,” said Monk. “You can't keep them in cages whenever they're not onstage. At least, you can't do it in my bus.”

  “They're a bunch of goddamned freaks and monsters,” said Thaddeus. “What do you want me to do—rent them hotel rooms? Hell, half of them aren't built right to use a toilet even if I gave them one.”

  “I don't care what you say,” said Monk stubbornly. “They've got to go. The only time I keep the cats and the bear in those cages is when we drive, and that's just for their own protection, so I won't have to scrape them off the walls and ceiling if we have an accident. You can't do to human beings what I won't even do to my animals.”

  “It wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that the Blue Man scares the shit out of your lion, would it?” said Thaddeus.

  “That's another reason,” said Monk, looking uncomfortable.

  “Then move the lion,” said Thaddeus. “It's less work.”

  Monk shook his head. “They go, or I'm taking my bus and leaving.” I thought Thaddeus was going to hit him, but Monk just backed up a step and laughed. “You lay a finger on me, bossman, and you're going to wake up with a lion in your trailer. He ain't scared of you.”

  Thaddeus unclenched his fist, shrugged, and walked away. A moment later he told Treetop and Big Alvin to put up another tent and connect it to the one he had earmarked for the freaks.

  “Once we move them in there,” he told them, “you two guys are riding shotgun on them. If even one of them gets away, I'll see to it that you never work again.”

  It was an empty threat—Thaddeus had no connections out of the carny business, and not that many in it—but they believed him, and an hour later they had the tent up and were moving the freaks, one at a time, into it.

  “My God, they stink!” said Thaddeus, inspecting the premises when the last of them had been moved. “See to it that they all shower before tonight, Tojo. Especially the Elephant Woman and the Lizard.” He took a deep breath.

  “Jesus! I don't know how they can stand themselves!”

  “We'll need a portable shower stall,” I pointed out.

  “We've only got one, and it's for the girls.”

  “Can't you find another?” I asked.

  “You think I'm made of money?” he demanded. “These freaks have already set me back twelve thousand dollars, and I haven't made a penny off them yet. Get some soap and water and sponge ‘em down.”

  “All but him.”

  “Him too!” snapped Thaddeus. “If they still stink when you're done, borrow some perfume from Alma or Gloria and spray them with it.”

  “It's cold in there, Thaddeus,” I said.

  “It's cold everywhere,” he said disgustedly. “That's why we call it winter.”

  “They could catch pneumonia if I wash them down in here,” I said. “Can't we trade heaters with the strip show?”

  He shook his head. “They work naked. You want them to catch pneumonia?”

  “Can't we just borrow it long enough to get the baths done?” I persisted.

  He thought about it for a moment, then nodded to Treetop. “Bring it in,” he said. “But make sure you take it back as soon as
he's done.”

  Treetop nodded, and rolled in a huge blower unit a couple of minutes later.

  And, two minutes after that, Gloria stormed into the tent.

  “What's the big idea?” she demanded.

  “Thaddeus said we could borrow it for a while,” I told her.

  “Yeah? Well, you tell that son of a bitch that I'm not working until we get it back. Hell, I've got some goosebumps that are bigger than my nipples!”

  I was afraid she was going to back up her statement with a presentation of the evidence, but she just glared at the freaks for a minute and then stalked off in search of Thaddeus. He sent for Treetop a few minutes later, and shortly thereafter we lost our blower.

  So I filled up a bucket with warm water and soap, and began sponging off the Human Lizard. I apologized to him as I was working, but he looked neither right nor left, never said a word, never even acknowledged my presence.

  I went over to the Elephant Woman next. When she saw me approaching she backed away.

  “I'm not going to hurt you,” I said gently.

  I walked toward her again, and again she moved away.

  “Don't,” said a very hoarse, odd-sounding voice.

  I jumped, because I knew the direction it had come from.

  “Leave her alone,” said the Blue Man, leaning against one of the tent's support posts.

  “But—”

  “She doesn't like water,” he said.

  “Boy, I'll tell the world she doesn't!” said Big Alvin, wrinkling his nose.

  “Pheww!”

  “How about the others?” I managed to ask.

  “If they want to wash, they will bathe themselves,” said the Blue Man.

  “Can they?” I asked, my eyes scanning the aggregation of oddities and monsters.

  “Yes,” said the Blue Man. He paused and looked at me, and suddenly seemed a little less satanic. “They cannot produce food for themselves, however.”

  It occurred to me that they probably hadn't eaten in more than twenty-four hours. Treetop was just returning from setting the blower back up in the girls’ tent, and I sent him over to one of the stands for three dozen hot dogs and a dozen cups of coffee.