Chapter 4

Rock and sway, rock and sway. Mona felt herself lolling this way and that. Her body all but rolled from side to side, otherwise gliding along as if floating on a cloud.

Floating? Was she moving? How was it possible?

Opening her eyes, she tried to focus on what was above her. There was something, she was unable to determine what it was, but the ceiling looked flat, and then suddenly began curving upward.

Turning her head to the side, she saw two doors, and one of them had a full length mirror on it. In it, she saw herself, lying down.

Lifting her head, she saw a small window, and through the window she saw cornfields rushing by. A jolt made her realize once again that although lying down, she was moving.

Good heavens! She was on the train. The train was moving.

She had to get off. This was all wrong. She had to go home, to speak with someone she knew about lining up some men who would break the arms and legs of Bobby Selkirk. No man treated her in that fashion and got away with it. Mona didn't care what it would cost. She would see to it the man, if one might call him that, paid dearly for what he had done to her.

But the first thing was to make her mother and house servants aware of where she was. To do that, she had to find out, herself.

Suddenly the mirrored door opened, and Elmo's dog-faced head looked in. He smiled, his black nose twitching, his filed teeth grinning. Then he called out behind him, "She's awake. Come on in." One by one they crammed themselves into the small compartment. First there was Harry, the India Rubber man. Harry wasn't too tall, but he was thin, and he seemed to have bendable bones. He was capable of twining his arms or legs around something like an octopus tentacle. His neck was long, and he was literally able to turn his head a hundred-and-eighty degrees around when he so wished. Harry had a small mustache that looked as if it had been waxed. In all probability it was waxed. He had short, light-brown hair, neatly combed, almost pasted down.

Next was the strong man, Jerome. Jerome didn't have the perfect symmetry that many muscle men have when they build their bodies for definition. But Jerome was stronger than any of them because his were usable muscles. He did more than merely lift weights. He moved his body around and kept it flexible. Jerome was six feet tall, with crew-cut brown hair, burning brown eyes, a flat nose, and a short slash for a mouth. Where Harry was dressed in a white, short-sleeved shirt and white denim pants, Jerome had on a green tee shirt and dungarees.

Oscar, the Geek, was next, with white hair, also closely cropped, a skinny body and a red nose which betrayed the fact that he drank a lot. But then she assumed that any man who made his living biting off the heads of live chickens had to fortify himself with liquor. At the moment, Oscar wore blue pants and a white shirt.

Finally there was Rick, the carnival giant. Rick was strong, like Jerome, though not as strong. He had a large, puffy nose, tiny piggy blue eyes, and a granite-like jaw. He had to bend over when he came in. Elmo, Mr. and Mrs. Imp, and Dolly, the fat lady, stayed outside but the door was open, and they were looking in.

"Awake at last," Harry smiled. It was obvious Harry was the spokesman, and he spoke in clear, rounded tones.

"What is this?" Mona asked, staring at them with a sense of unease.

"This," Harry smiled, "is the group of freaks of whom you made fun last night. We're the ones who took you in when no one else wanted anything to do with you."

"But the train.. . . " she said. "It's moving."

"An astute observation," Harry nodded. "We're on our way to Nebraska at the moment."

"But you can't take me. That's kidnapping," Mona insisted.

"Is it?" Harry asked. "We didn't come looking for you. You came to us. Is it our fault you arrived just before we were ready to leave? Mrs. Imp gave you some coffee to perk you up, and instead you blacked out, just like that."

"There was something in that coffee," Mona insisted.

"You're a clever girl," Harry nodded. "Indeed, two 'sleeping tablets. They did the trick. However, that's neither here nor there. You fainted, fell asleep, and we put you in this compartment at the end of the Pullman car, and you have no choice but to accompany us."

"I can't," Mona gasped. "I'm not one of you."

"Not yet," Harry smiled. "But eventually, I have the feeling you may definitely become one of us."

'That's impossible," she gasped.

"We have a new theory," Harry told her. "We call it a kind of osmosis. By hanging around with us, eventually you'll take on your own freakish characteristics. It doesn't have to be a disfigurement. After all, Oscar the Geek looks like any ordinary man. He just-likes to bite off the heads of live chickens, sometimes even fish. Eventually you'll find something. But to make sure you become one of us, we're going to try something else. You'll become a sort of freak by injection."

"What are you talking about?" she gasped. "It's against the law to use any kind of chemical on another human being in an experiment."

"Chemical?" Harry laughed. "We wouldn't dream of using a chemical."

"But you said, by injection. That means a syringe."

"Not quite," Harry smirked. "We talked about this all last night while you slept peacefully. Normally it doesn't bother us to have people gape at us. After all, we are different, and people pay good money just to get a look at us. However, even if they laugh and snigger we're willing to accept that as part of the price we pay when they pay to see us. But you, you were different.

You didn't laugh about it to your boyfriend. Oh, no! You spoke directly to us, insulting us face-to-face, for no reason other than it pleased you. You didn't think we had feelings. We're not regarded as human. Well let me tell you something, Miss . . . what is your name."

"Kase. Mona Kase."

"Well let me tell you something Miss Mona Kase. We have feelings like anyone else. We want to be loved and cared for. But who, in their right minds, wants anything to do with a freak other than another freak? So we live together, and we make a business out of letting people look at us, as long as they pay."

"You're freaks," Mona snapped. "You're all human abominations. When I was a little girl my nurse told me that people like you are born the way you are because you did something wrong in an earlier life. So don't try and tell me you're just ordinary people."

"Yes, we're freaks," Harry nodded. "But only because we're different. In your own way, you're a freak, because you're cold, heartless, nasty. And we've decided to warm you up-by injection," he snapped, rubbing his groin, and suddenly, horribly, Mona knew what he meant.