Chapter 15
Cotty had made no attempt to approach Paula in the tent. Once, he had maneuvered until he caught her glance. A look passed between them, a current of understanding. He moved along with the carnies following Greer's body to the arch over the midway entrance. There, they all stood silently while the body was loaded into a police ambulance. Paula got into a car with the deputy in charge, and the official cars drove away.
The carnies milled about for a little, talking in awed whispers, then drifted away one by one. Cotty slipped away before they were all gone and returned to the wheel joint. He collected all his things and packed them into a bag which he left under the counter. Then he scouted out a truck close enough to the Greer trailer where he could watch. He climbed into the cab and settled down to wait for Paula. He knew she would be back before morning.
It was after three when she finally returned. Cotty waited until she was in the trailer, the lights on, before he clambered down out of the truck cab. All the other trailers and tents were dark, not that it mattered to him if anyone happened to be watching. He crossed to the trailer and rapped softly on the door. It was opened promptly, as though Paula had been expecting him. And, after he'd bounded up the steps and stepped inside, he knew from her broadening smile that she had been expecting him.
"You came through, sweetie," she said huskily. "I didn't think you would but I was wrong. You did it and that's all that matters!"
"It was easy, went smooth as silk. All I had to do was...."
"No, I don't want to know!" She motioned him quiet. "I have only one question. ... Is there any way...? "
He felt a stab of disappointment that he wasn't going to be allowed to tell her about it. But perhaps she was right. He said, "Not a way in the world! I can never be connected with it!"
"Good! Wonderful! Peachy! Whoo-ee! I feel like I'd just been let out of jail!" She threw up her hands and pirouetted toward the kitchen area. "Lock the door, sweetie, and come here. There's a bottle of champagne in the frig. We're going to celebrate. Oh, boy, are we ever going to celebrate!"
Cotty locked the door and shot the bolt. He crossed to her on a tide of jubilation. "What if the carnies are watching us?"
She tossed her head. "Let 'em! They've never liked me, anyway. I'm not a carnie at heart never have been. I'll keep the freak show until the end of the season but that's it. By then I'll have Basil's money and this gal's going to have herself a merry old time spending it!"
"You're sure about the money?"
"Sweetie, I'm sure! He was loaded. Take my word for it."
She took the champagne bottle from the small refrigerator and handed it to him. He held it by the neck and looked at her appraisingly. "And just where do I figure in all this?"
"I'll need somebody to help me spend it, won't I? It wouldn't be near as much fun by myself." She crowded against him, belly and breasts touching. "You helped me get it, didn't you? Don't think I'm not grateful."
She tilted her face up, and Cotty lowered his mouth to hers. She'd already had a drink or two; her mouth was flavored with gin. She rotated her pelvis against him and Cotty experienced a leap of desire, and yet a small part of his mind was busy assessing the situation. He had other plans for Greer's money. He didn't have Paula's aversion to carnie life; he felt himself peculiarly suited to it. If Greer's legacy was large enough, and Cotty had a hunch it was, he could buy a carnival of his own. Perhaps even Greater Universe. Then what a pleasure it would be to get rid of Dan Fields, the Frosts, and Juval. Juval most of all. He might have a little trouble bringing Paula around, but he was confident he could manage her. He knew just how sexually hungry she was after all those years with the impotent Greer. If he handled it right, she would become his sexual slave.
Paula broke the kiss with a gusty exhalation of breath. She bent her head back, her eyes heavy-lidded. "Oh, sweetie, are we ever going to celebrate tonight!"
Cotty popped the cork from the bottle and poured two foaming glasses, gave Paula one and picked his up. He clinked it against her glass. "A toast to Basil Greer and his money," he said with mock solemnity.
"Oh, yes, sweetie, I'll drink to that. Yes, indeed!" She drained her glass with a toss of her head.
Cotty drank the tart champagne in two long swallows. It was his first drink of champagne. It tickled his nose, but he liked the taste. He took Paula's glass, plumped both down on the sink, and filled them to the brim again.
Paula giggled. "If you keep on like this, I'll make a boozehound out of you yet."
"This is good." He grinned. "Maybe I'm loosening up a little."
"I'm going to work on loosening you up, sweetie, now that we have all the time in the world."
She took a less greedy sip from her glass this time, then moved in close. She ran her hand inside his shirt. Her hand was cold, causing him to Jump. She drew her nails back and forth across the taut skin of his belly. She found his navel and teased it lightly with a long nail. Then she rotated the heel of her hand around his stomach in ever-widening circles. Finally she reached his belt and tried to run her fingers under it.
"Wait..." he said. He finished his champagne and fumbled his shirt open, the buttons popping off like melon seeds. He took the shirt off and tossed it behind him. "Is this better?"
"Much better!" She flew against him, her arms going around his back, one hand holding the glass. The nails of her other hand playfully raked the muscles of his back. She blew her warm breath on his chest, stirring the matted hairs. She caught a flat nipple between her teeth and nipped gently.
Cotty tensed. He dug his fingers into her hair, cupping her skull, and forcing her face harder against him. He picked up his glass and finished the drink. Then he moved Paula back from him and gestured. "Now you."
"Tit for tat?" she giggled again. "All right. You pour while I do it."
He lined the two glasses up on the drain board and filled them while Paula reached behind and expertly unzipped the yellow blouse she wore. She shrugged out of it and tossed it in the general direction of his shirt. Under the blouse she was wearing a black bra.
Catching the direction of his glance, she threw her breasts forward in bold relief. "Black for mourning, what else?" She held out her hand for the glass.
And so it turned into a game. A garment removed, a glass of champagne consumed. Paula turned on the small radio on the refrigerator and turned it into a strip tease as a disc jockey on a late night station played dance music.
Long before their clothes were removed, Cotty was giddy from the champagne and pulsing desire. Paula was undressed first, and she reached unsteadily for the champagne bottle. Cotty was astonished to see the last few drops drain out as she tilted the bottle over her glass.
He stepped out of his shorts as she drank the last of the champagne. When Paula's head came down, her eyes flared wide at the sight of his nakedness. Her eyes were sharp and avid as she looked at him, then went vague. She drew a ragged breath. "Ah, sweetie! Oh, good Lord!" She stumbled toward him. "Dance with me, baby. I want to dance."
In his arms she was hot pinpoints, penetrating him all over at the same time, smothering him in warmth and perfumed womanhood. Holding her close, he felt her body mold to his, touching from their cheeks to their knees. Her moist lips brushed his ear lobe. Then she ran the tip of her tongue inside, and Cotty's arms closed convulsively around her.
They swayed drunkenly to the music. Cotty felt himself growing warmer against her thighs, against the impetuous curve of her abdomen. His hands slipped down her back, fingertips seeming to crackle as they brushed her velvety flesh. Her firm hips moved under the stroke of his hands, and her fingers entwined in his hair, pulling slightly.
He felt her breath coming quick and warm on his cheek. Slowly he moved his face down and around until his eyes were immediately in front of hers, and he saw the twin, green-irised images of himself reflected there. He lowered his lips to hers. The kiss was soft-fleshed and warm at first, then became a teeth-clashing fierceness as they stopped swaying. The music had stopped and a harsh-voiced announcer was busy with a news summary. Cotty reached behind him and fumbled the radio off.
"Sweetie. ... Lord!" Paula said thickly.
Her head arched back, and Cotty dipped his face to the pulse at the base of her throat. He fluttered his tongue there. Paula's fingers were claws on his naked back. She groaned aloud, shivering, as he lowered his face to her breasts. The swollen nipples were slick to the touch of his tongue.
His hands moved smoothly over her flesh, touching the soft hollow of her back and fanning outward over the pout of her taut buttocks. He lightly stroked the shallow valley bisecting them. She moved against him in a slow, lazy, circular motion that grew more abandoned second by second.
"Sweetie, sweetie!" she said again. "Do me! Take me now. Make me feel it!"
Circling her with his arms, he picked her up and carried her toward the bed at the far end of the trailer. She was by no means a small woman, yet she felt light as a feather in his arms. As he paused to push open the door with his toe, she fastened her teeth in his ear lobe and bit down hard.
He grunted, jerking his head aside, and he felt the warm trickle of blood down his neck. Paula laughed hoarsely and nipped at his neck and shoulders as he carried her to the bed. He dropped her so roughly she bounced twice before she lay still in a wanton sprawl.
Now she reached up and pulled him down to her, met his fall in a spasm of moving flesh, corralling his wildness with her arms and legs. As he went into her, she cried out sharply. "That's so good, sweetie! So-o good!"
His mouth on hers, his tongue moving, Cotty felt himself falling into a deep, scented well, tumbling over and over into a sweet darkness that suddenly seemed to explode with silvery sparks. He drove toward final surcease and attained it with a wrenching cry.
He drifted up from what could have been a few minutes of sleep or two hours. Paula's head was cradled on his shoulder, her teeth lightly gathering a fold of the skin there. She was combing her fingers idly through the hairs on his chest.
"Paula," he said tentatively, "I'm back as a front talker tonight, right?"
"Of course, sweetie. What else? For that matter, you run the whole shebang. I don't want to be bothered with it."
He felt a surge of elation. And he recalled leaving the tent at the tail end of the carnies trailing Greer's body. He had glanced back briefly and saw Juval's tiny figure slumped in sorrow beside the empty casket. He had a strong hunch that this was the beginning of a vigil that was to last for several days.
He said with growing excitement, "I have an idea that may pull the marks in like a magnet."
"I don't want to hear it," she said petulantly, placing her hand over his lips. "I don't want to talk business. We were going to celebrate, remember? Well, we've hardly started! So just forget about business!"
Irritation jabbed at him. Damn it, he wanted to talk business! But Paula was leaning over him, her face darting at him in little nipping kisses. Her hair tickled his nose and he fought back a sneeze. Paula's head dipped lower. She kissed his chest, drew the flat of her tongue across his nipples. Cotty raised his face just enough to follow the progress of the blonde, bobbing head. Her talented hands were busy, also. Slowly, then quickly, his body responded to her ministrations. His breathing grew labored, and he started to twitch to her touch.
Suddenly she raised a glowing face. Her grin was wicked. "You see, you didn't want to talk business, anyway!"
Cotty grunted in answer and reached for her shoulders to flip her over on her back.
"No, sweetie! Let me! Let me do it!" She placed her hands flat on his chest and pushed him down on the bed. She moved over him, hesitated only briefly, then shimmied down. And Cotty was plunged once again into mindless pleasure.
His hunch proved correct. Juval's vigil beside the open pit continued the next day. All efforts to lead him away had failed. The freak-show people brought him food and water, but he refused everything except a little water, leaving his post only for calls of nature and hurrying right back.
When Cotty and Paula entered the tent shortly before noon, the freaks flocked around Paula and told her about Juval's vigil. She was indifferent. She seemed to drift about in a sort of stupor, life coming to her eyes only when Cotty touched her.
When she refused to act, Steel said, "I think we should take that damned coffin out of here and fill up the pit. Then maybe the little guy will break off."
Cotty spoke for the first time. "No! Everything stays just as it is, including Juval!"
They glanced at Paula for confirmation. She pushed her fingers into her hair and said listlessly, "Cotty's in charge now. You all take your orders from him."
No one seemed particularly surprised, but Cotty was the target of black looks and mutterings, all of which increased in volume when he told them what he had in mind.
At the end he said, "Some of you may not like it. You can always quit. For those who stay, it's business as usual. Mr. Greer was an old-time showman." He grinned wolfishly. "I'm sure he would be the first to say, 'The show must go on.' "
He knew that few, if any, would quit, not in mid-season. Carnie ridehands, canvasmen, joint operators, even front talkers, were a nickel a dozen and could always find jobs with another carnival, but the freaks were booked in advance of the season and would have trouble finding another opening this late.
Although they were playing a fair date and were supposed to open at noon, Cotty had several things to do and couldn't open until evening. But then his idea was more than justified. All he had to do was drum up a crowd and point his cane at the banner strips pasted across the center "Buried Alive!" banner. The first strip said, "See the pit where the 'Buried Alive!' man actually died!" The second said, "See his beloved dwarf continue his sad vigil!"
As he had surmised, the crowd's morbid curiosity did the rest. He knew word had spread among the townies about the strange death of a carnie freak. Cotty didn't even deliver a pitch. They fought to get in line at the ticket box. The tent was filled within minutes, and Cotty had to stop the sale of tickets for a while. He strolled into the tent. The freaks were on the center platform, but they were getting little attention. The bulk of the crowd was clotted around the pit, threatening to snap the chain.
Highly pleased with himself, Cotty worked his way through the crowd to the chain. The people were very quiet as they gazed in hushed awe at Juval, who stood without moving, his head bowed, his back to those watching. He showed no signs that he was even aware of their presence.