The Carnival [aka Sideshow 2]

The Carnival [aka Sideshow 2]



By storyteller

Lorelei began the final part of her act using the chair as a prop and she did it so seductively Jim became aroused to an extent greater than he could recently remember. Jim studied her eyes; they lingered on the young man with glasses. He became instantly jealous.

The lewd suggestions started when the music ended. Lorelei remained seated, the chair turned backward and her legs to spread wide. Sixteen necks craned for a better view. Her body was so white, like fine china, so that every intimate part of her stood out in stark relief. These vulgar men did not deserve to gaze on such loveliness. Jim turned away in anger.

***

Over the last few months, Jim noticed a waning of his strength and stamina. Though they'd had many years together, if their relationship was to continue, he had to do something. So his idea was to rent a tent and have Lorelei do shows and find a substitute until he got well again. But now that the scheme was unfolding, he felt unsure about everything.

Jim had chosen Staub’s Carnival because this was set up on the forgotten side of town. The south side was an area the city planners ignored, with no new subdivisions, no car dealerships, and no fast food franchises. The only cluster of life among the broad cornfields and widely spaced farmhouses was an old trailer court across the two-lane highway. Staub’s had set up on the edge of the broad, rutted gravel driveway of Proctor's Country Store, a place as ancient as the trailer court. The midway was nothing more than a few booths set up facing each other to create the illusion of an aisle. A few families meandered around, hoping to get the kids a few rides on the Ferris wheel, or Merry-go-round, or Tilt-A-Whirl before they broke down. Mostly the carnival drew cocky, half-drunk young men who thought they could beat the old games of chance. Everyone in the midway was seeking thrills this small worn out carnival could no longer provide. Trouble could easily start, despite the slovenly part-time deputy assigned to keep peace, and trouble was the last thing Jim needed. At the far end of the midway was Jim's rented canvas tent.

From the lawn chair beside the front bumper of the rented old Ford RV, Jim could watch almost everything happen in this shabby carnival. As the sky darkened, the naked bulbs strung between the poles and the neon lights of the booths were switched on to hide the age of the carnival, like heavy make-up on an old woman's face Jim heard movement in the RV, Lorelei had finished her sleep. His joints ached as he struggled out of the chair and he had to walk very slowly toward the patched green tent to get things ready.

When he reached the tent he pulled the switch for the electricity and a shielded bulb cast its glow on the sign propped against the tent wall. Lettered badly with a thick marking pen on a wide sheet of plain white construction paper, it announced the carnival's side show, Lorelei's striptease act.

"Gonna strut her stuff tonight, huh, Pops?" the deputy asked, grinning crookedly as he re-lit his cigar and worked it to the corner of his mouth.

Jim tried to grin back, as he pulled the chain of the bulb above the collection stand.

"I ain’t gonna need extra help to keep these young bucks away from her, am I?"

Jim glanced toward the RV, saw the light on, thinking; maybe it would be better protecting them from her. He shook his head, and then he turned and entered the dark of the tent. After pulling the chains of the two larger bulbs over the plywood stage, he noticed the rough, unfinished surface of the wood. Lorelei would have to keep her shoes on, at least. Staub’s' had provided two grey metal folding chairs, so he opened one on the stage and put the other beside the entrance for the deputy, and went outside.

"What time ya gonna start the show, Pops?" the fat deputy said, hitching up his brown trousers.

"Pretty soon."

"She ain’t in no hurry, huh? Well, none a them kinda women ever are." He spat out a bit of tobacco; he chewed his cigars as he smoked. "She a looker?"

Jim glanced at the young males beginning to drift toward them. "They'll get their money's worth."

The grin disappeared from the deputy's face. "I don't pay to get in, Pops."

"Oh, no," Jim said, "Not a dime. You get a free pass."

"She gonna do two shows, or what?"

Jim glanced at his wristwatch: 9:00 pm. "Maybe. Depends on how big the crowd is. And how she's feeling."

"How she feels? Say, Pops, she ain’t on the rag, is she? These here boys ain’t gonna wanna look at no bloody hole, ya know what I mean?"

"Oh, no! I assure you that's not a problem at all, Officer."

The deputy nodded and turned his attention to the activity at the booths. Jim stood with his hands in his pockets, silent and waiting. He felt light and unsubstantial, like a feather. He wondered what was happening to him. Where had all his muscle and strength gone? He had to stop wearing his diamond rings because they slipped so easily from his fingers. These pants hung on his thinning frame, despite the tightness of the belt, and, like the deputy, he had to hitch them up far too often.

The crowd pressed closer, milling in little clumps. Jim noticed they all were dressed in faded jeans and pullover shirts with printing on the front, like carbon copies. They jostled each other like randy young bucks, snickering and pointing at the sign.

Jim caught the light in the RV winking out. Lorelei exited wearing her hooded, black velvet cape, carrying the radio and holding the cape closed with her right hand. She walked swiftly, keeping to the shadows behind the booths and came directly to him. She gazed into his eyes, with green eyes too large for her small, pale face. Lorelei was tiny and compact, physically well-endowed. Jim saw the beauty, the striking loveliness he'd sold his soul for, and felt the ache stirring once more.

She touched his arm lightly, glanced toward the crowd, and went silently into the tent.

The pity in that gesture flowed through him like a current of electricity. He flushed with embarrassment; ashamed of what he had talked her into doing, but knowing he would do anything to keep them together.

A few seconds after Lorelei disappeared inside, the deputy sauntered toward the tent opening. He flashed another grin and spat more tobacco.

Jim faced the short line of curious youths. "One minute, gentlemen. Just one more minute. Have your money ready, please. And you must be twenty-one to get inside. The deputy will ask for ID's from anyone he doesn't think is old enough."

Jim went to the stand and opened the flat, square money box, motioning them forward.

Only one or two among the sixteen males didn't appear old enough, but the deputy hadn't checked them, so Jim closed the box and dropped the tent fly. Inside the dim canvas room, Lorelei sat on the folding chair at the back of the stage, picking absently at the cape. She held the cassette player on her lap. The men had gathered at the front of the stage, in a clump, serious expressions on their faces.

The stage, two 4x8 sheets of cheap plywood, stood a yard above the ground and Jim had to take the step carefully.

"Good evening and welcome, gentlemen," he said, "You are here to see one thing ... and there she is." Thin laughter answered him. "If you'll spread out around the edge of the stage, I can assure you of a better view of the ... entertainment. Have fun. Get a good look. But behave yourselves. The deputy is here to maintain order. Don't throw anything on the stage or at her. Or you will be arrested. Understood?"

The group scowled up at him.

Jim took the extension cord, coiled at the edge of the stage, and walked over to Lorelei and plugged the radio in.

Lorelei stood, still holding the cape closed, and after a second or two of dramatic pause, pulled the hood down. Her long black hair spilled over her shoulders, her pale face glimmered in the harsh light from the two bare bulbs suspended above her. Lorelei's eyes were heavily accented in black, her lips painted a brilliant red. The result was pleasantly shocking.

When Jim pushed the play button, Lorelei opened her cape, revealing her spangled costume. She resembled a ceramic doll standing on a bare shelf. Lorelei had chosen slow, moody songs instead of traditional stripper music to create differing emotions in the men.

Unlike the others, Jim did not watch her dance. Still embarrassed about this scheme, he glanced at the crowd, trying to guess which, if any, she might choose. If she found these unsuitable, the deputy, with that sickening leer frozen on his jowled face, would get another free show. But Jim noticed a face that sent a chill tumbling down his spine. The young man was Jim's size and weight, but wore glasses. Jim approximated his age at 25, and, from the wrinkled clothes he wore, assumed he lived alone; just the type Lorelei would be seeking.

When the next to the last song started, Jim turned his gaze toward her. She was down to the G-string and pasties. The men leaned forward in anticipation. Except the one with glasses.

Swinging with the rhythm Lorelei moved on her toes like a ballerina along the edge of the platform. As a hand or two boldly ventured toward her, she slipped smoothly away. The men stared, fantasizing about her tiny, sculpted body.

She winked at the man with glasses and slowly licked her lips. The other men laughed. Suddenly she leaned over and snatched the cape from the pile and wrapped it around herself. The act met with disapproval.

"Oh! Do you big strong men want one last peek?" she teased, her voice high and sweet.

The men cat-called and clapped.

She went to her left and flashed quickly, laughingly stepping back. Then she opened the cape. Lorelei worked slowly around the platform, until she stood in front of the man with glasses. As the others jostled for a closer position, her hand shot forward and stole the glasses from his face. She danced to the center of the stage and rubbed them against her clitoris, then wrapped herself tightly in the cape again. As she pulled up the hood, she began making the noises of great sexual pleasure and sank to her knees. The men's eyes widened as they stared. The moans quickly reached a peak and then stopped. Lorelei suddenly raised her head and said, "Show's over!"

The effect startled the men and, still in shock, they began drifting to the exit, held open by Jim and the deputy.

The owner of the glasses stayed in front of the stage. "My glasses, ... please?"

"Sure you want them?" she teased, bringing them from under her cape.

He blushed, "Well, I gotta have them. I can't see too good without them."

"They need to be cleaned," Lorelei said, "The lenses are ... fogged."

"I could wipe them off, I suppose." He pulled a wrinkled white handkerchief from a back pocket.

"Or you could come with me. I've got a sink in the RV. We could give them a good washing under the faucet."

"Well, ...," the man glanced nervously at Jim and the deputy. "I suppose."

As Lorelei gathered her clothes, Jim spoke to the deputy, "Thanks for your help. Hope you enjoyed the show."

"She go with men. After?" the deputy asked, not taking his gaze from her.

"She's of legal age, Deputy," Jim said.

"Ah ... that's not exactly what I meant."

"I know precisely what you mean, Deputy," Jim said, holding the tent flap open again.

The deputy turned away, and then stopped. "I catch her sellin' it, I'm gonna lock you both up."

Jim stared at him until he left.

Lorelei stepped from the stage, followed by the chosen man. She smiled at Jim. He reopened the flap and they passed through.

Jim made sure all cigarette butts were crushed and the bits of paper picked up. He took the cassette player, the extension cord, the money box, and turned off the lights.

A breeze had started, coming through the cornfields from the south, cooling and easing the oppression of the high August humidity. Jim switched off the outside floodlight and carefully checked the crowd. Except for a couple of the young men from the audience glancing toward their RV, nothing was amiss. He did not need to worry about covering up; Lorelei would take care of that. After. This might turn out good, Jim thought. How many of them, including the fat deputy, would be able to recall anything about them except Lorelei's sleek white body?

Jim wondered how long it would take him to get over this and regain his strength and be able to satisfy her himself, because only then would their life together return to its normal pattern. He could feel time heavily upon him, like a great weight. He felt physically ill down into his bones. "Pops" the deputy had called him. That angered him; he was her lover, her protector, food of life, not her grandfather.

Jim stashed the radio in the rear compartment of the RV, then found the carnival manager and gave him the money. After refusing to do another show, he returned to the lawn chair to wait.

People left rather quickly after discovering this shabby carnival had few attractions, so the crowd was ever changing.

Half an hour later the man came out of the RV and went to his car. Lorelei slipped silently beside Jim.

"It's time to go," she whispered.

Jim felt another chill tingle his spine. "What's going on?"

"Just drive," she said, softly.

Jim knew not to argue.

Getting the RV out onto the highway proved a chore for him, his power seemed to be lessening by the hour now, but he managed and they were traveling south on 66A in silence.

"Why are we doing this?" he asked, when the lights of the carnival could no longer be seen in the rear view mirrors. "Too many people saw him come in here with me."

"What now? You certainly aren't satisfied. What are we going to do?"

"Meet him and finish. Someone must have seen us both leave and heading in opposite directions. So, by the time anything is found, I'll be long gone and just about forgotten."

Jim nodded. "But when I get well we'll be back to normal."

"Pull over here. In this deserted gas station," Lorelei said, pointing.

Jim looked and saw an old, boarded-up Cut Rate Station in the middle of a sea of growing corn. A good place, he thought. They could force the overhead door open and stash everything inside. Resealing it would give excellent cover.

The headlights of the RV caught a car parked beside the station. The man with glasses was sitting on the trunk. He appeared different now, much more vibrant, stronger, and bolder. Jim didn't like it.

"Finish and let's go," he said, shutting all the lights off and cutting the engine.

"No," Lorelei said, gently. She scooted next to him and put her arms around his shoulders. "You've been with me for two centuries, but it's coming to an end. I've used you up. You can no longer nourish me when I require it. Your age is catching up with you."

"I'll ... I'll get over it."

"Impossible. It's accelerating. Even as we talk the seconds are adding the hours to you. You've even started thinking in the old ways. Side shows and carnivals! We haven't used one of them since 1935." Lorelei kissed his right ear, "I love you, and I want you to know that. But you have no strength I can draw from. Right now you're about 70 years old. Tomorrow 80. 100 the day after. I can't sit by and watch that happen." She motioned to the other man and he got inside his own car. "It won't hurt, I promise."

"You knew!" he said, weakly. "You knew this would happen."

"Yes, my love. But I didn't know when." She moved to the passenger chair. "Put your head in my lap, my darling."

Jim's joints ached, especially his lower back, as he did her bidding. "But my plan worked. You found another. Use him until we can find a way to beat this."

"This is the only way," she said, tenderly running her lips along the vein in his neck. "I found him a week ago, ... but I waited. I had to be sure this was happening before I set this up."

Jim groaned.

"I'll remember you, my love. Forever." Lorelei kissed the throbbing artery before easing her sharp teeth in, to drink until the two hundred years caught up with him.

END

2935 wds