Chapter 26 Chapter Twenty Six

This is an ordinary circus.Merry-go-rounds, cotton candy, all old tricks, help nerds say goodbye to their dollars.Dirty jokes sex education slightly altered to accommodate locals' views on Darwin's theory of evolution; "show girls" donned fig leafs mandated by local law; nightly finale was trapeze jumping; There is no mind reader but a magician, no bearded lady but a half man and half woman, no sword swallower but a fire eater, no tattooed man but a tattooed woman (also a snake charmer) , and, in the grand finale, she will be "naked! . . . only bare, living skin, painted with exotic patterns"! — any nerd could win twenty dollars if he could find even a square inch of untattooed skin below her neck.

No one has ever come to claim the reward.Mrs. Pivinsky did display "smooth, living skin"—skin that was both her own and partly that of her boa constrictor named Sugarbread.Boa constrictors occupy all the strategic places, and even the local religious alliance can't find any loopholes.She purposely set up the show in a canvas box with a dozen cobras and a stool on which she stood herself.This is said to be for added protection - to protect the pythons. Also, the lighting in that place is not very good. But Mrs. Pivinsky was not bragging.Her husband ran a tattoo studio in San Pedro until his death, and they decorated each other when business was slow.In the end, the painting from the neck down was completely intact, and there was nothing left to add to it.She was very proud that she was the most fully adorned woman in the world, by the greatest artist in the world. (“The greatest artist in the world” is what she said of her husband.)

Patricia Pivinsky's dealings with liars and sinners did not affect her personally; she and her husband were led into the church by Archbishop Foster himself, and wherever she was, she always Go to the nearest New Revelation Chapel to attend the event.In the climax of the performance, she is happy to remove all the cover, because what really covers Patricia is an unshakable belief-she believes that she is a canvas covered with religious art, more than any art in a museum or a church. Products are even greater.When she and her husband were inspired by the Church and saw the light, she had three square feet of blank space; but by the time George passed, she had become a series of paintings, from the cradle surrounded by angels to the call of God to heaven, Foster's life is in full view.

During the performance, this sacred history was covered up a lot, which is really regrettable.But when she went to churches to participate in the "happy meetings" open to believers only, she could show it as soon as the shepherd wanted to; and the shepherd was almost always happy to let her take the stage.Patricia couldn't preach, she couldn't sing, she had never been possessed by the Holy Spirit, and she had never uttered a voice—yet she was a living testimony of the light of God. She was the penultimate one to appear on "Inhumans," so she could calmly pack up the leftover photos and sneak into the back tent to prepare for her strip show.During this time, it was the magician who entertained the audience on stage.

Dr. Apollo distributed the steel rings to the audience and invited them to check to see if each ring was complete and strong; then he asked the audience to lift the rings so that they intersect two by two.Then, with his wand, he tapped each intersection—the rings became a chain.He let his wand float in the air, took a bowl of eggs from his assistant, and performed a trick with half a dozen eggs.His trick didn't attract much attention, and more people stared at the assistant.Although she was dressed more modestly than the girls in the thigh show, it was still safe to assume that she didn't have a single tattoo on her body.Little did the idiots notice that the six eggs had become five, then four... three, two -- and finally, only one remained of Dr. Apollo's tossing eggs.

"Eggs are getting rarer every year," he said, throwing the last egg into the crowd, and turning away.The egg just disappeared, but people hardly noticed it. Dr. Apollo called a little boy to the stage. "Son, I know what's going on in your head. You're thinking, I'm not really a magician at all. You've won a dollar for that." He gave the kid a dollar.The money is gone. "Oh, my God! Let's give you another chance. Take it? Get out of here quickly—you should go home and sleep." The child flew out of the tent, clutching the money tightly. .The magician frowned, "Mrs. Merlin, what should we do now?"

His assistant whispered something, and he shook his head, "You can't do it in front of so many people, can you?" She whispered a few more words; Dr. Apollo sighed, "Friends, Mrs. Merlin is sleepy. Which of you gentlemen would like to help?" There was a commotion in the audience, and he couldn't help blinking, "Oh, so many people are not needed! Who has served in the military?" There are still a lot of volunteers; Dr. Apollo picked two, "Uncover the canvas, there is a military cot under the table—yes, please take it up to the stage and set it up. Madam Merlin, please face this way."

While the volunteers were setting the bed, Dr. Apollo made various gestures. "Sleep...sleep...you are asleep. Friends, she has been hypnotized. Gentlemen who prepared her bed, would you please put her to bed? Take care—" the girl Stiff as a corpse, he was carried onto the bed. "Thank you, gentlemen." The magician retrieved the floating wand and pointed to a table piled with props at the end of the stage; a sheet flew over, "Cover her. Cover your head, ladies shouldn't let you sleep." People staring. Thank you. You can go down—very good! Mrs. Merlin . . . can you hear me?"

"Yes, Dr. Apollo." "You slept deeply. Now you feel lighter. You sleep on a cloud. You're floating—" The sheet-covered figure rose about a foot. "Oh! Don't be too light." A young man explained in a low voice: "When they covered her with a sheet, she had gone out through the secret door. There is now an empty shelf under the sheet. When he lifts the sheet, the shelf will be put away immediately, and you will see nothing." No. Anyone can do it." Dr. Apollo ignored it. "Higher, Mrs. Merlin. Higher. Okay—" The body under the sheet stopped about six feet above the stage.

The young man muttered again: "There's an iron pole you can't see, just at the corner where the sheet hangs down to the bed." Dr. Apollo asked volunteers to come up and remove the crib. "Mrs. Merlin sleeps on a cloud, she doesn't need this thing." He faced the figure in the air, as if he was listening. "Please speak louder. Oh? She said she didn't want to cover the sheet." ("The shelf is going to be put away.") The magician grabs the sheet and pulls it, and the audience hardly notices that the sheet disappears into thin air; they just stare at Mrs. Merlin, who is six feet from the table.The boy's companion just now turned his head and asked the master of stage magic, "Where's the iron rod?"

The boy replied, "You have to look where he doesn't want you to look. They turned the light so it's right in your eyes." Dr. Apollo said: "Enough sleep, beautiful princess. Give me your hand. Wake up!" He stretched out his hand, helped her to stand up, and then helped her down to the stage. ("See where she lands? There's the pole," the child added, satisfied. "It's just a trick.) The magician continued: "Now, friends, please listen to our well-educated Professor Tymoshenko—" The master of ceremonies interjected: "Don't go away! The following performance has been approved by the University Federation and the Security Department of this beautiful city. We will provide a twenty-dollar prize. Anyone who can-" No one earns the grand finale bonus.The tour performance here is over, and the group members have started to pack.On the train in the early morning of the next day, the tents for the people had to be left for a few hours so that everyone could have a place to sleep, but the boys who were in charge of dismantling and assembling the tents had already dismantled the tents for the performance. The master of ceremonies, class leader and manager rushed to finish the show just now, and then drove the idiots out through the back door, and now he returned to the tent. "Hold on, Smithy." He handed the magician an envelope, and added, "Son, I hate to tell you this—you and your wife can't go to Paduka with us." "I know." "You see, I'm not targeting you—I've got to think about the whole show. We're going to hire someone else. That couple are first-rate mind-readers, and both have other tricks. She can read bones and palms, he Can play devil's ball. You know, I didn't promise to use you all season." "I know," said the magician, "it's all right, Tim." "Well, I'm glad you think so," the master of ceremonies hesitated, "Smitty, do you want to hear my suggestion?" "Very willing." The magician's answer was simple and clear. "Okay. You're good at tricks, Smitty, but you can't be a magician if you know tricks. You don't think about it. You act like that: don't mind your own business, never mess with other people's performances, and Would love to help too. But you're not a juggler. You don't understand why the idiots in the audience are idiots. You don't feel that way. A real magician, just by conjuring a coin out of thin air, can make The nerds are dumbfounded. Your levitation trick—I've never seen it done so beautifully, but the nerds just don't get excited. No psychological appeal. Look at me, I can't even make coins. I don't How much acting--only the ones that really matter. But I know the dork. I know what he longs for, even if he doesn't necessarily know it himself. That's the art of acting, boy. Whether you're a politician or a Preacher preaching from the pulpit, or magician, figure out what the idiot wants first, and after that, half of your props can stay in the box." "I believe you are right." "I know I'm right. He wants sex, blood, and money. We don't give him blood—but we give him the expectation that something might go wrong if he eats fire or throws a knife; we don't give He has money, but we encourage him to dream of getting rich, and take a little out of his pocket; we don't give him sex. But why do seven out of ten pay for the finale? To see a naked woman. Of course, he can't see it, but we can still make him go home happily. "What more does a dork want? He wants mystery! The world isn't fucking romantic at all, but he wants to see it as a romantic place. That's your job... you just haven't learned how to do it." How to do it. Hell, boy, the idiots know your trick is fake...but they want to believe it's real—and that's where you're going to help. That's what you need." "How do I learn, Tim?" "Damn, you're on your own to learn. But—well, it's not a very good idea of ​​you blowing yourself up to be a 'guest from Mars.' Never give a dork something he can't swallow. They see The Man from Mars, in pictures or on TV. You kinda look like him--but even if you two look like twins, nerds know you don't see The Man from Mars on Invisible. It's like eating a fire Like 'President of the United States.' A dork would like to believe it—but he won't let you insult his intelligence. Even a dork has a little brain of one sort or another." "I got it." "I talk too much, masters of ceremonies are like that. You youngsters are going to be all right? How's the purse? Hell, I shouldn't do it—but do you want to borrow money or something?" "Thank you, Tim. We don't need money." "Well, take care of everything. Goodbye, Jill." With that, he hurried out of the tent. Patricia Pivinski came in through the back door, already in her gown. "What's going on? Tim killed your show." "We were going to leave too, Pat." "It just pissed me off, I really wish I could quit." "No, Pat" "Let him have no finale! He can find someone else to fill the stage... see if he can find another finale that won't be messed up by the clown." "Pat, Tim did nothing wrong. I lack acting talent." "Aw... I'm going to miss you guys. Oh my God! Listen, the team won't be leaving until tomorrow morning. Come to my tent and we'll hang out together for a while." Jill said: "I have a better idea, Pat. How about you go to our place and find a big, warm bathtub for a bath?" "Well...then I'll bring a bottle of wine." "No," Mike objected, "I know what you drink, we have it." "Okay—you're staying at the Royal Hotel, right? I have to go see my babies first, and I have to tell Sugarbread I'm leaving for a while. I'll call a cab. Half an hour, maybe." The two got into the car and Mike drove.It's a small town with no automated traffic guidance; Mike drives at top speed, weaving in and out of the car, and Jill doesn't realize there's a gap until he passes each time.But Mike did it effortlessly.Jill is learning; what Mike does is stretch his sense of time, turning everything into slow motion, making things like tossing an egg and speeding through traffic a breeze.A few months ago, she thought, two shoelaces would have stumped this man--by comparison, what was happening was too unbelievable. They didn't talk; it's inconvenient to talk when consciousness is at a different time frequency.Jill recalled the life they were moving away from, and she called it to her eyes to cherish it—both in Martian terms and in English.Before meeting Mike, her entire life had been ruled by the tyranny of the clock.When I was young, I went to school, when I was older, I went to a more difficult school, and when I grew up, I was bound by various hospital regulations, and I had to follow the rules at all times. Life on tour is completely different.Just stand in a beautiful pose for a while during the day, and there are no constraints other than that.It doesn't matter to Mike whether he eats one meal a day or six meals a day. He thinks it's fine for him to do whatever she wants to do with the housework.They had a tent of their own; in many small towns they did not leave the camp from the moment they arrived until they broke camp.During the days of the tour, the turmoil of the outside world was kept far away. Of course, every camp was full of nerds—but she'd learned the common wisdom; nerds weren't people, they were just blobs of bubbles whose only purpose was to spit money. The circus is a big happy family.They entered society to broaden Mike's horizons.At first, life was not easy, the two were constantly recognized, and sometimes it was almost impossible to get away.Not just the media, people of all stripes seemed to feel entitled to want this and that from Mike. Before long, Mike thought of his facial features as more mature, and made other changes.In addition, they often appear in places that everyone thought Martians would never patronize, so they finally avoided being disturbed by others.Around that time, once Jill called home to tell Harshaw of the new PO Box, Jubal suggested making up a story to give them cover—a few days later, Jill read a message that the Martian visitor Has retired to a monastery in Tibet. The real retreat is at "Hank's Diner" in an unnamed town, with Jill serving and Mike washing the dishes.When the boss isn't watching, Mike can do the dishes with astonishing speed.They worked for a week and then went on the road, sometimes working and sometimes doing nothing.Whenever Mike found a public library, they frequented it almost every day—Mike had thought that every book on earth had one in Jubal's library.After discovering the wonderful truth, they stayed in Akron for a whole month-Jill spent most of the time shopping, and Mike was not a traveling companion at all when he was holding his books. "Baxter's Show Highlights and Happy Party" is by far the best part of Wanderlust.Jill remembered that time in—what town was it?The girls who performed "Show Girls" were detained.It's so unfair.Before each performance, they will discuss with the locals in advance: whether they need to wear a bra; whether the lighting is strong or dark, and so on.But the sheriff locked them up anyway, and the judge seemed happy to give the girls a taste of prison.The camp was closed, and everyone was running to the hearing, and there were a lot of idiots drooling inside, trying to catch a glimpse of the "shameless women."Mike and Jill also squeezed into the back of the courtroom. Jill has made repeated orders to Mike for a long time, and she must never do anything out of the ordinary where she might be found.However, Mike realized a key point—— The sheriff is testifying against them for "public indecency" - and apparently taking great pleasure in it.Suddenly, both he and the judge were stripped naked. Jill and Mike slipped out; all the accused fled as well.The circus put away its tent and went to a more honest town.No one connected this miracle with Mike. The look on the sheriff's face will become one of Jill's most cherished memories in her life.She started talking to Mike in her mind, about how funny the rustic sheriff looked.The problem is that the Martian doesn't have the concept of being funny, she doesn't know how to express it.There was already a telepathic connection between them, and the connection was growing-but they could only communicate in Martian. ("What is it, Jill?") ​​his mind replied. ("Let's talk about it later.) As they approached the hotel, Mike slowed, and she felt his consciousness slow as well.Jill prefers to camp at the campsite, except for one inconvenience: there's no bathtub. Showers are great, of course, but nothing compares to a big vat of hot water, so crawl in and soak!So they sometimes stay in hotels and rent cars.Because of his early training, Mike doesn't hate dirt as much as Jill does.He's as clean as Jill now, but only because she's retrained him.He doesn't have to wash to keep himself spotless, and in the same way he won't need a barber once he knows how Jill likes his hair.But one thing has remained constant: Mike still loves soaking in the waters of life. The "Royal Hotel" is old and shabby, but the bathtub in the "Honeymoon Suite" is huge.As soon as they're inside, Jill makes a beeline for the bathtub, starts running the water - and is not surprised to find herself naked and ready to soak.Dear Mike!He knew she liked to shop; and forced her to indulge this little vice—whenever he found any clothes that didn't please her, he sent them to the void.Jill had to warn him that too many new clothes were too conspicuous in the regiment, or he would do it every day. "Thank you, dear!" she cried. "Let's go in." He'd either taken off his clothes or had lost them—probably the former; Mike didn't see the point of buying clothes.Mike saw no reason to wear clothes other than to keep warm, and he was not afraid of heat or cold.They sat in the bathtub facing each other, and she held up a handful of water, touched her lips, and offered it to Mike.Rituals aren't necessary, but Jill likes it.It reminded them of their relationship to each other—and, of course, there was no need for any reminder, now and forever. Then she said: "I was just reminded of that nasty sheriff, it was funny how naked he looked." "Does he look funny?" "Oh, absolutely." "Explain why he's funny. I don't see the joke." "Well... I'm afraid I can't explain it. It's not a joke, not like a pun or something that can be explained." "I didn't get the idea that he was funny," Mike said. "I got the wrong idea on those two guys—the judge and the sheriff. I would have sent them away, but I knew you wouldn't like it, That's why I didn't do that." "Dear Mike," she said, touching his cheek, "good Mike. You did it better. They never forgot the humiliation as much as we did. There won't be anyone in that place in fifty years." Arrested for obscene exposure. Let's talk about something else. I've been meaning to tell you that I'm sorry to cancel our show. I've done my best to write my lines, but I'm not made to be an actor like you .” "It's my fault, Jill. Tim's right, I didn't get to know the dork. But touring with the circus helped me a lot... I understand the dork better every day." "You can't call them dorks and dorks anymore because we're gone now. They're just normal people, not 'dorks'." "I realized they were idiots." "Yes, dear, but it's very rude." "I will remember." "Have you decided where we're going?" "No. I'll know when the time comes." True enough, Mike always knew.That night, he went from docile to commanding, growing in strength and confidence.There was a time when the boy was tired of keeping an ashtray floating in the air, now he can not only levitate her but also do other things at the same time, and no matter how much effort you need, he can make it come out.She remembers a time when the camp was so muddy that a truck got stuck in the mud.Twenty burly men pushed and tugged—and then Mike shouldered it too;Mike had grown up a lot, and he didn't raise anyone's suspicions. He used to think that he couldn't make things disappear without an epiphany of "wrongness," but now he had an epiphany: this one only applies to living, spiritual things—there wasn't necessarily anything "wrong" about her clothes.This rule is for nestlings; adults are free to do as they please. Wonder what his next change will be?Mike was kind and wise, though, so she wasn't worried. "Mike, if only Dorcas and Anne and Miriam were in the tub! And Father Jubal and the boys, and—oh, our whole family!" "Need to get a bigger bathtub." "What's the squeeze? When are we going to get home, Mike?" "My enlightenment time is almost here." "Martian 'quick' or Earth 'quick'? Never mind, baby, until the wait is done, right. That reminds me of something, Aunt Pat is coming soon - Earth's 'quick' .help me take a shower?" She stood up; the soap rose from the box, ran down her body, and returned to the box, all of the soap on Jill turning into bubbles. "Ooooh! You tickled me." "Flush?" "I'll just soak it for a while." She jumped into the water a few times, then stood up, "The time is just right." Someone is knocking on the door. "Honey, is it convenient for you?" "Come on, Pat!" Jill yelled as she stepped out of the bathtub, and then said to Mike, "Wipe me?" She dries up in no time, leaving no wet footprints. "Honey, you remember to get dressed? Pat's a lady—and not like me." "I remember."