Part 5 (1/2)

”Get the arms fixed, right?” the middle-aged man said.

”That's right,” Charley said for the third time. Maybe the man would take the hint.

But he had no such luck. ”That's a fine thing the doctor is doing,” he said. ”I mean, helping all these people. Don't have to be ... well, look, bud, don't take me personally.”

”I don't mind,” Charley said. ”I'm used to it.”

”Sure,” the man said. ”Hey, by the way. My name's Roquefort. Al Roquefort.”

”Charley de Milo,” Charley said.

”Glad to know you,” the man said. ”So while we're traveling companions, you might say ... might as well get to be friendly.”

”Sure,” Charley said tiredly. He looked round the car. A great many people seemed to be heading East. There were no other seats. Charley sighed and shrugged himself deeper into the upholstery.

”You know,” Roquefort said suddenly, ”I can't help thinking.”

”Oh?” Charley said, fidgeting his feet.

”That's right,” Roquefort said. ”I mean, all these people. And Dr.

Schinsake. I remember once, I went to a circus, or a sideshow.”

”Carnival, probably,” Charley put in, knowing exactly what was coming.

”Something like that,” Roquefort said. ”Anyhow, they had this sideshow, and there was a man there without any legs. Did all kinds of tricks--got along real good. But I can't help thinking now: he wouldn't have to get along that way any more. Because this doctor would fix him up.”

”I guess so,” Charley said wearily.

”Sure,” Roquefort said. ”It's a great thing, what he's doing. All these freak shows ... you understand, it's just a name for them--”

”I understand,” Charley said. ”Don't worry about it.” He s.h.i.+fted his feet nervously. Shoes always felt a little uncomfortable, even lightweight sandals; he felt trapped in them. Now, if he had arms and hands ...

He choked the thought off before it got any further.

”All these shows,” Roquefort said, ”why, there isn't any need for them any more. I mean the people without legs, or arms, anyhow. See? Because this doctor--”

”I see,” Charley said.

”Why, anybody works in a show like that, I mean without arms or legs--why, he's just crazy, that's all. When he can get help, I mean.”

”Sure,” Charley said uneasily. ”Sure, he's just crazy.”

Roquefort chomped on his cigar and looked solemn and well-informed.

Charley s.h.i.+vered slightly, and wondered why.

”Just crazy.” Was that what they thought, he wondered. Was that what they were thinking when they looked up at him?

He s.h.i.+vered again and slipped his shoes off quietly. Immediately, he felt a little better.