The Feet of God
77 - FOR MY NEXT ACT
We drove on through the
country until we reached a town with generic strips of mini-malls and fast-food
chains. Slowly we turned onto a
super-sized parking lot under a giant Pump & Dump sign, signaling our arrival
at the gas station/quickie mart, and then we pulled out near a separate lot
with a recycling center full of dumpsters packed with plastic, aluminum cans,
glass bottles and shit. Then my
attention was drawn to three parked vehicles, two white semis flanking a small
white van. They was all lined up so’s
you could easily read the one word painted on the side of each vehicle...
CIRQUE
DE
BIZARRO
I had arrived.
Jimmy-Bob pulled next to the little white DE van. A tall, thin guy with long black hair approached.
“JB!” he greeted Jimmy-Bob, making big circles in the air with his raised
hands. “Stupendous to see you
again. Have you brought me your poor
patient?” This dude stuck his head into
Jimmy-Bob’s window and examined me. I
could see this dude was in full makeup.
“Just like I said,” Jimmy-Bob leaned back to give him a better gander.
“Tremendous!” he shouted right
inside the truck window. In an instant
he came around to my side and opened my door.
He gave a bow like some kind of trained animal trick, then he popped up
straight with a tiny jump. “Allow me to
introduce myself. I am The Amazing Stumppo,
your guide to the unreal, the unbelievable and the improbable: Impresario to the Cirque De Bizarro.” He gave a sudden bow then jerked himself
upright with a little hop. “What talents
do you possess?”
I looked at Jimmy-Bob. He motioned with
his head and whispered, “He wants you to get out so he can examine ya.” I tucked the pup under my arm and slowly slid
down from the cab to the parking lot.
“Please remove your shirt,” he said as he walked around me with his chin in
hand. “Go on, we have to observe your
peculiarity in order to determine exactly what category in which to place you.”
I juggled Pulito while pulling
the T-shirt very gingerly from my aching, sore-encrusted body.
“Good, very gooood. Now, would you mind
dropping your trousers?”
“Why should I drop my pants?” I protested.
“What the hell is this?”
The Amazing Stumppo grinned. “We do not
buy our porcine products wrapped in a down comforter.”
This guy made no sense, I thought. He
must be totally whack.
“Ain’t nothin’ queer about him,” Jimmy-Bob assured me. “He’s just gotta see that you’ve been ravaged
all over is all.”
I did as I was asked.
“Undergarments, too. There’s a midnight
cabaret you understand, very German, pre-Nazi.”
Ya know, when you leave your life to fate and start a journey across country by
thumb, there’s a lot you gotta put up with to get a ride, but I was just now
reaching my limits. Before I could speak
up, two babes stuck their gorgeous heads from around the corner of the
van. My swollen puffy eyes bulged as
they grinned at me and disappeared.
“Do those two chicks work here?” I asked.
The Amazing Stumppo smiled. “Why, of
course. The Kennedy Sisters Act is one
of the stellar attractions at the Cirque De Bizarro.” A knowing smile continued to light the face
under the dark mustache. “Now drop the
pants, and let’s get on with the show.”
Down they went. Since my entire body was
flush with angry, flaky bumps, I already knew nobody’d notice I was blushing
from head to toe.
The impresario paced around me a few more times making little approving
sounds. All this gawking gave me time to
evaluate the gawker. He not only had on
makeup, his eyebrows was shaved and painted on again in the form of a black
V-shape. He seemed younger than you’d
think a guy in his position would be.
His black mustache, soul patch and long hair looked blacker’n nature would
allow. His fingernails was painted a
glossy black, too. But his face was whiter
than can be. He wasn’t really that tall,
but his thinness gave the illusion he was taller than he really was. He wore a black suit with red vest and pink
shirt and some kinda black scarf all knotted up at his neck. His whitish skin was set off by a bright red
mouth smeared with lipstick. It was
scary.
He hopped backwards. “Yes, I think we
can use you.”
“Use me for what?” I asked with a trace of concern.
The Amazing Stumppo put his hand to his chin again, and he began to tap at his
teeth near the corner of the red-painted mouth using his pointed black
fingernails, and then he announced, “A dash of color here and there and the
appropriate loincloth and we’ll present you as The Levantine Lizard. What do you think?”
I’m not sure if my opinion accounted for much.
Jimmy-Bob laughed out loud. “Sounds
about right to me.” Then he cupped his
hand and whispered, but I could still hear Jimmy-Bob’s voice, (“Can I have word
with you…”), he shot a glance over at me, (“…in private?”)
As they walked away together I struggled to put my clothes back on. Then I took Pulito over to a nearby parking
divider covered in artificial turf to do his business. I smiled waiting for the dog to finish, and I
was sure Jimmy-Bob was busy negotiating a sweet contract for my services.