It was a beautiful universe, All of it lights, laughter, and glitter. It was a straw house on a hard lot and a warm evening. It was the windjammers playing "The Governor's Waltz" while seventy-five bulls turned, hind-ended, and kootched in unison. It was thousands of cheering voices, and they all cheered for her. Covered in spangles, she sat astride Ming's neck in the spectacular. Her father would steal an instant and look up at her.
She would always sneak a peek during the Lion Lady's performance. Center ring, the spots all turned toward her mother and the cats, the crowd hushed, applauding, gasping, cheering. No matter where they played, however alien the planet or its people, this universe stayed the same. It was like the dog who buried a bone beneath the treasury wagon and then at the next stand, on another planet, went beneath the treasury wagon to dig it up again. Once she saw her father sneaking a peek at the Lion Lady's act, and from then on, they watched together.
On the City of Baraboo between planets, the universe was huge gray pets, Goofy Joe gossiping, Mootch Movill telling funny stories; clowns, canvasmen, tackspitters, bullhands, hostlers, and a white-bearded giant that everyone called "Mr. John."
But the universe had some special moments. Little Will watched porter Pickle Nose Porse set up the table, champagne and glasses in the exercise run next to the main carrousel in shuttle Number Three. Bullhook Willy was sitting on a haybale with his arm around Kristina, and both of them were talking to Pony Red. She walked through the crowd of handlers, medics, and animal act performers until she stood next to Bullhook. "Daddy, is it all right if I go see the bulls?"
Bullhook looked down at her. "Just for a little while. You don't want to miss the line-crossing ceremony."
"I won't." She stood on her toes and kissed him, then turned and kissed Kristina. "I'll be right back, Mommy."
The Lion Lady kissed Little Will. "All right, but don't get your clothes dirty. I want you pretty for the ceremony."
"Yes, Mommy." She turned and ran through the crowd. She waved as she saw Waco and his twenty Ssendissians. When she reached the port to the main carrousel, she stepped in and walked to the center of the great rotatable tube. Within the large tube were more tubes, each one independantly rotatable, and each one containing ten or more elephants. She climbed the ladder and catwalk and entered one of the tubes. Inside the smells of elephant and hay were strong. In their separate stalls, the bulls contentedly munched their rations. Seated on a bucket in front of Robber's stall was Packy Dern. "Hi, Packy!"
The bullhand jumped, turned around, then shook his head. "You shouldn't ought to sneak up on a man that way, Little Will. Give a fellow time to get used to you yelling at his eardrums from the inside."
Little Will held her hands behind her. "I'm sorry."
Packy waved a hand. "It's all right." He resumed his seat on the bucket. "Are you gonna try and talk to Reg again?"
She nodded. "Some day I bet I can talk to the bulls. I get a feeling from Reg. She's really trying to say something."
Packy shrugged and looked up at Robber. "I been talking to Robber a lot of years, now. I think she understands."
"How come you aren't with everybody else?"
He looked at the little girl. "Big moment coming up, Little Will. We're going to be the very first starshow to cross the quadrant line. Important occasion." He nodded, then looked back at Robber. "At a time like this, I can't think of anyone I'd rather be with."
"I'm going to see Reg."
Packy nodded. "Good luck."
Little Will walked around the bucket and headed toward the back of the tube. When she got to Reg's stall, she looked up at the great pachyderm. "Reg? Reg? Do you hear me, Reg?"
The bull turned her head, then reached out her trunk and caressed Little Will. The trunk moved back to its hay.
"Oh, please, Reg! Say something to me. Please."
The bull continued eating.
Little Will moved in next to the bull, reached up, and stroked the animal's cheek. "Nhissia says that touching helps mind-talk with people. Can you hear me now, Reg?"
The bull stopped eating. She stood motionless, then Little Will closed her eyes and felt a flood of warmth; an ocean of love. It covered her. "Oh, Reg! Oh, Reg! You talked to me! I love you, Reg. And you love me." Little Will felt a tremble beneath her feet. She opened her eyes and looked toward Packy.
The bullhand was standing, looking toward the entrance to the tube. "What in the hell was that?"
The deck pulled out from beneath Little Will's feet, and she saw Packy being knocked to his knees just before her head struck the deck. "Daddy! Daddy! Mommy! Oh, it hurts!" She looked up, her vision blurred with tears, and saw Reg's enormous foot swinging toward her.
And the universe is all laughter, bright colors, and cotton candy. And it's mud, broken bones, fights with rubes, pain, endless hard work, frustration, poisoned animals, crooked governments. It's wind-blown ice shredding the main top on a dark night; it's maimed, crippled, and dead friends; it's the Lion Lady putting a gun to her head an instant after killing her cats; it's Bullhook Willy broken and bleeding on the grass of an unknown planet; it's a little girl, hurt, alone, and afraid.
The universe is what it's always been: one long uninterrupted dee-light.
"Little Will? Little Will? It's me, Packy."
She opened her eyes. The light said that it was morning. There were no feelings. If you don't feel you don't hurt. The little girl's stare remained fixed for a moment upon the thatched roof above. She turned her head to her left and saw Packy Dern sitting on the platform next to her own. Little Will closed her eyes.
"Little Will. Now that Bullhook's gone, I'm going to take care of you." Packy's voice broke. "Bullhook... he asked me to take care of you. Is that all right?"
A stone does not love; a stone does not suffer loss; a stone does not hurt. Lucky stone.
Packy took her hand in both of his. "We'll be okay together, Little Will. You'll see." He reached to his side and placed something in Little Will's hand. She opened her eyes as she lifted the object. It was her father's golden-tipped bullhook.
No one loves a stone; no one cares if a stone suffers; no one hurts for the sake of a stone. Poor stone.
Little Will clutched the bullhook to her breast and cried.
Packy put his arms beneath her knees and shoulders, lifted her, and held her close. "We'll be okay together. You'll see."
FIVE
It seems that the winner of the name-the-planet contest was the late John J. O'Hara. Before he had died in the bad air of the Baraboo, the Governor had picked the name Momus, after the ancient Earth god of ridicule. And they called the planet Momus.
In the days that passed other things took on names. Car Number Three, the menagerie shuttle, looked out upon the body of water they called Table Lake. The waters came from the surrounding mountains that formed a huge basin they called the Great Muck Swamp. At the edge of the swamp, was the lake. At the southeast edge of the lake, its waters drained over rocky falls forming the headwaters of what they called the Fake Foot River.
The metal panels from the shuttle that formed the blades of the waterwheel were strangely shaped, roughly resembling the oversized fake feet some of the Joeys once wore. The water-wheel drove the stripped armature taken from the shuttle, upon which was speed-gear mounted the abrasive core blades taken from the port engine boring assembly. The blades could cut the almost indestructable metal that formed the shuttle's skin. To build a road, there must be tools. To have tools, there must be metal. To have metal, Number Three was devoured.