Jupiter Monk came in a moment later, hauling a bale of hay on his back. "I don't suppose Thaddeus supplied them with a toilet?" he said
"No," I answered.
"I figured. Well, this'll be better than nothing. He tossed the hay onto the floor and pulled a wire cutter out of his belt. The Blue Man walked over, curious to see what we were doing, and Monk straightened up.
"You keep away from me if you know what's good for you!" he snarled, pointing a scarred and calloused finger at him. The Blue Man backed away.
"Just keep clear of me," continued Monk. "You scared my lion half to death, you damned freak!"
He went back to cutting the wire that held the bale together, then took about a third of the pile and placed it against the far end of the tent. He came back, got the rest of it, and carried it to a spot about five feet away from the first pile. Then he got Treetop to help him and strung some rope around the two piles.
"Okay," he said, brushing himself off. "Hang up a few blankets and they'll have a little privacy—and tell Thaddeus that if he doesn't want his million dollar show coming down with all kinds of diseases than he'd better pop for a couple of toilets before too much longer."
Then he left, keeping his eyes on the Blue Man—much as he did with Bruno the Bear, which was the most dangerous of his animals.
I turned to watch him go, and when I turned back, I almost bumped into the Blue Man, who had wandered over again.
"When you see him outside the tent, please express our gratitude," he said. "I did not mean to frighten him."
"Not much frightens Jupiter," I said defensively. "He's our animal trainer."
"Thank him for us, little one," said the Blue Man.
"I will," I said. "And my name's Tojo."
"Thank him, Tojo."
"What's your name?" I asked.
"You may call me the Blue Man," he replied, and walked away.
Since Big Alvin and Treetop were on duty, I felt it was all right to leave long enough to have some dinner. I ran into Thaddeus doing the same thing at the food stand.
"I can't understand it," he said as I sat down next to him. "I just called Vermont, and Romany is still in the cooler."
"Jupiter says the freaks should have a toilet," I said.
"As soon as they earn it," replied Thaddeus. "So far all the money has been flowing out. Let's let some flow in."
"Jupiter says if you don't—"
"Enough!" he yelled. "If I want to know what Jupiter Monk says, I'll go talk to him!"
We ate the rest of our meal in silence. When I was about to leave, he placed a heavy hand on my shoulder and held me onto my seat.
"Has the Blue Man tried anything funny?" he said.
"Funny?" I repeated.
"He's the one to watch," said Thaddeus.
"He was very nice to me," I replied.
"So you've decided that being a freak is just a matter of outward appearance," he said with a grin. "How broadminded of you."
"Let me go," I said. "I've got to get back to them."
"Tell 'em they're on in two hours," he shouted after me.
When I returned to the dormitory tent a number of them were clustered around the Man of Many Colors, who had been a dull blue ever since we arrived. He was wrapped in blankets, and Big Alvin was standing near him, looking very disturbed.
"What's going on?" I asked.
"The blue guy—not the mean-looking one, the other one—he threw up a few minutes ago. Greenish stuff, a really bad-smelling mess. Then he started shaking, and they put some blankets around him."
I shouldered my way through to where the Man of Many Colors was sitting on his cot. He was trembling slightly, and his eyes looked a little glassy.
"What's the matter?" I asked. "Will you be all right?"
He didn't say anything, and neither did any of the others.
"Is there anything I can get you?" I said.
He shook his head, but didn't speak.
"I'd better get Thaddeus," I said, turning and starting to leave.
"That won't be necessary," said the Blue Man. "But tell Flint that the Man of Many Colors will not be able to perform tonight."
"What's wrong with him?" I asked.
"A chill."
"Well, tell him to wear something besides a pair of shorts," I said.
"That is what he wears," said the Blue Man. I couldn't tell if it was a question or a statement or an explanation, but whatever it was it sounded final.
I shrugged and went off to tell Thaddeus.
I found him standing by a phone booth, the receiver next to his ear. He muttered a couple of sentences, then cursed and slammed it down on the hook.
"Damn!" he said. "Ahasuerus still hasn't shown up to bail him out!"
"But I thought you wanted him in jail."
"I wanted both of them in jail," said Thaddeus. "For all I know Ahasuerus is ten miles behind us." He looked down at me as if noticing me for the first time. "What the hell do you want? I thought I told you to stay with the freaks."
"The Man of Many Colors is sick," I said. "He won't be able to go on tonight."
"Like hell he won't!" snapped Thaddeus.
"He really is sick," I said. "I just saw him."
"You let these fuckers start goldbricking on the first day and there's no end to it!" said Thaddeus. "Sick, healthy or dead, he goes on!" He paused to light a cigarette. "You tell them that. You especially tell the Blue Man. And tell them that I'm barking the freak show, just so I can keep an eye on 'em."
"Who's doing the girlie show then?"
"Swede."
Swede was a huge blond guy, almost as tall as Big Alvin, who worked the games for Diggs.
"Does he know how?"
"He'll learn," said Thaddeus. "At least he doesn't trip over his own tongue like some people I know. Now you get your ass over to the tent and tell them that everyone works tonight."
I walked back through the lightly falling snow, teeming with bitterness.
Swede was happy working the games and fleecing the marks. He probably even resented being forced to bark the strip show. I'd have given everything I had to change places with him, and Thaddeus knew it. I could never be a barker, we both knew that, but he didn't have to make that remark about tripping over my tongue. I don't know why I stammer. Sometimes I think it's because I was quiet for so long when I was growing up that I've got a lifetime's worth of things to say, and they fight each other in a race to get out. I knew I couldn't get up there and talk to a crowd, but he didn't have to talk to me like that, and he didn't have to give it to the one guy on the grounds who would hate it. It was just unfair.
"You look troubled," said the Blue Man as I stalked into the tent.
"Everyone works tonight," I said, "including him." I gestured to the Man of Many Colors. Then I thought about whose fault it was and whose fault it wasn't, and added, "I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault," said the Blue Man.
"Thaddeus doesn't believe he's sick," I said.
"Would it make a difference if Flint examined him himself?" asked the Blue Man.
"None," I said, and the Blue Man uttered a kind of growling sigh.
"What must be, must be," he said softly. He looked at the Man of Many Colors, then turned back to me. "Where is Mr. Romany?"