"They're . . . they're cute. Real, really cute," Jamie said. Doopy's wide white eyes were suddenly bigger than the whole world to him, his fingers still pawing and paddling Jamie's shirt. God alone knew what he may have done with a different kind of answer.
"Help, help!" one of the baby Goshys on the ground cried. "Help!" The other two joined in. "Help, help!"
"What the fuck?" Gonko screamed, jumping away from the flowerpots.
"It's the first word I learned 'em," said Doopy. "Ain't they clever? They can talk so neat."
Gonko staggered away and frantically looked for something else to think about. Jamie did likewise.
•
Night came. Gonko studied his pocket watch very carefully, waiting, waiting . . . at last he gave word to Curls and the other ticket collectors, who seemed to realize by now that all of this was far beyond anything George had ordered despite what Curls had told them, and that by now they were just as doomed as Gonko, should word get back below. They were very nervous as they trudged at last over to the train station, a short walk made longer by the gate pieces they carried. Their location was supposed to be a country fair halfway across the planet, but they set up the gates almost entirely unnoticed even as trains pulled in and spewed out hundreds of commuters. When these tricks got below, after Gonko's circus had milked them, it may be noticed: very few children and babies, rather more suits, briefcases, and newspapers folded under arms than the usual crowd. And of course, much less soul dust.
Emerald was unveiled. The gypsy women made no secret of the knives tucked into their belts. They had a busy time shooing
clowns and others away from her wooden booth, where kissing booth was painted across the front with no mention of a price. Emerald stood radiating her unearthly beauty and regular earthly boredom as she, with the rest of them, waited for the tricks to come through the lattice gates.
"Music!" Gonko screamed. The dwarf assigned the task began to spin the music box's handle. A calliope moaned, xylophone notes tinkled down like rain, brass wind wheezed good cheer, and cymbals crashed.
"You ready, Goshy?" Doopy said into the ear of his statue-still brother. "We gots to make the people laugh soon. We gotta make 'em laugh for reals."
And the freak show tent was opened just as the tricks began to come through, with only a few seconds of confusion at the sudden change in their surroundings from train station car park to here. By then the music was in them, as was the scent of cotton candy, filling them with giddy good cheer. A small carnival, but a happy one. A dwarf with a dice game, his velvet case filled with glittering rubies and sapphires for prizes; another who made a coin vanish under paper cups, with more pirate treasure on offer if you could guess the right one. And, further around in between the two small "streets" of tents, a woman of exceeding beauty, smiling, waiting for the gypsy lady to bring forth, one by one, her customers. Nervously they were led to her; and now there was no such thing as a girlfriend, wife, fiancée, or even a woman. Emerald was the first they'd ever seen; the first to plant cool, long fingers on each cheek and for three, four sweet seconds of bliss, the first explore their mouths with hers, leaving them in a giddy happy daze. Emerald was a hit, even with some female customers, though not one person was allowed back in line for a second kiss. None guessed as to the reason why she crouched down in her booth, after each customer—as the gypsies had coached her—and spat into a bucket little glittering shards like crushed precious gems. The buckets filled fast. The gypsy women smiled secretly at each other and carried filled buckets away.
In less impressive amounts, the powder littered the floors of the small makeshift Sideshow Alley. In the freak show tent, one of the baby Goshies thrashed about in its flowerpot, frightened of all the people who stepped in to stare. Nearby, the head in a case grumbled, "Preposterous! Blocks the view . . . never seen such rot. Medical science. Pish posh!"
Fatso ripped huge chunks from his other side, letting yesterday's wounds heal, and was a sheen of blood which he could hardly wait to lick clean, or scoop to drink with a desert spoon. His one-liners were delivered with cheer: "I make sure to get plenty of the three major food groups—me, myself, and I!" and "They say putting your foot in your mouth is a bad thing. Not me! Watch!" and out came a bite sized morsel from the marshmallow flesh. The Matter Manipulator's living chair watched on sadly, and it watched the powder raining across the floor. "Anyone want a taste?" said Fatso, pointing to those parts of himself he couldn't reach, but there were no takers.
Of course the freak show was not everyone's cup of tea, but few wanted to pass on the clown show. Their tent was packed, with Jamie backstage watching from close quarters, as he'd be performing on the next show day, or so he'd been told. Deeby was nowhere to be seen—Gonko had made it murderously clear to all that Deeby was allowed to meet and greet the tricks, and twist a few balloons into shapes, but no more than that.
Doopy and Goshy had been told they owed some bang-up clowning, and they delivered. Laughter filled the tent as the pair of them played husband and wife in the delivery room with Gonko in the role of the clumsy doctor. Goshy, the expectant mother, staring about in bewilderment as Gonko produced a hatchet and made all manner of chopping, sawing noises beneath the sheet between Goshy's legs. Rufshod the nurse played a relatively straight role, though he set the sheet on fire right before Gonko emerged with a flowerpot. The baby Goshy thrashed around in actual fright, squealing "Help, help!" Though he was the father, Doopy breastfed it from his bicep which somehow squirted milk all over the place.
Following that, Gonko did some corny hat-falls-off-and can't-be-put-back-on gags (with all manner of objects falling from the hat) while he pretended to run for president, miming a speech to the others, his constituents. Each of them responded to misinterpreted commands in Gonko's wild gestures. The eventual result was a riot among the clowns, with Rufshod trampled half to death . . . to be revived by Gonko the clumsy surgeon, who whipped back on his white coat and stethoscope but (comically) could not bring himself to do mouth-to-mouth. Doopy did it instead, and there followed a parody of a movie romance scene: the lights dimming, sexy saxophone music playing, lunging and thrusting under a sheet, and the same baby Goshy was pushed shyly out, crying again "Help, help!"
The crowd loved it. They loved the Goshy-diving-into-a-glass grand finale, the realistic way he plummeted down from a three foot step ladder to crack the glass with his sternum, the way the blood gushed out, and the clown's kettle noises of distress. "Hmmm! Mmmm!" beseeching the front row for help.
And Gonko the clumsy surgeon reappeared, ready to operate . . . but he froze, growled, anger standing the cords out in his neck. To his, and Jamie's consternation, Deeby picked that moment to make his way through the crowd and up onto the stage.
"Get out," Gonko hissed at him.
The other clowns peered, perplexed as Deeby cleared his throat. "Your attention please. We're all enjoying tonight's antics. But there's one thing no one should laugh at: pollution."
"Oh my God," Gonko said. He went to Rufshod, whispered an order, and Rufshod dashed out of the tent.
"Did you know that discarded cigarette butts end up in our waterways and are mistaken by fish and even dolphins as food?" Deeby went on earnestly. "Did you know that plastic six-pack rings can choke turtles and inhibit their growth? While these clowns may recycle their jokes, you can bet they also recycle their plastic. You do the same! And please, please don't litter."
The timing of this worked out pretty well, in the end. Rufshod came back with a large aluminium garbage can from just outside, handed it to Gonko, who now tipped the lot over Deeby's head, spilling uncounted weeks' worth of filth, food wrappers, old fish bones, and reeking garbage water. He jammed the can down in one brutal motion, splitting the bottom so Deeby's head burst through it. The crowd—who'd not known at all what to make of the pollution speech—laughed like it was all a planned gag, and some of the murder went out of Gonko's eyes.