D A Novel (George Right) - By George Right Page 0,66

There were no mirrors there–nothing that would make it possible to hide the bottom half of a woman!"

"Listen", Mike stopped and turned to Jane. "Even assuming that they really do such things in front of lots of witnesses... do you think that anyone can live after being torn in half? Unless he's an earthworm, of course..."

"That's not funny."

"And I'm not laughing. I don't know how this trick was done, but..."

"Well..." murmured Jane after a pause, "of course, yes... it must be some trick... but... it was so real..."

"I told you–we shouldn't have gone in there," Mike muttered. "Now we may have nightmares about it..."

They finally got out of the thickets. No one was visible here either. But once they passed the toilets, a door slapped open behind them.

At another time, Mike wouldn't have looked at the person leaving such a place, but now he shuddered and rapidly turned back.

In front of the booths the clown stood. The same one, with the drawn red smile. He stood motionless and silent, looking at them.

Certainly, there was no reason to stop and it would be more logical just to continue on their way, but Mike suddenly stepped forward.

"And?" he aggressively inquired. "What?"

The clown kept his silence and didn't move. In Mike's mind flashed the foolish thought that he was a dummy, too.

"What are you staring at?" Mike raised his tone and moved ahead with the look of a person ready to fight–though actually he never was combative. Jane turned back, too, stepped after him and grabbed his elbow to prevent a scrap.

The clown with the sudden gesture of a magician took out from nowhere a small notebook and offered it to the girl.

"Oh... thank you very much," she said, taking the notebook and pushing it into a pocket of her jeans. "Let's go, Mike," now she dragged him away to where music rattled, shooting gallery guns clapped and visitors happily squealed on rides. Several seconds had passed and there were already a lot of people around them.

"What did he give you? " Mike asked.

"My notebook! Probably I lost it in a toilet booth..."

"In a booth? Or in the 'cave?'"

"Why the 'cave?' He came out of a booth!"

"Personally, I didn't see he come from there," Mike muttered.

"So what–did you see him in the 'cave?' You think he was lurking after us? Mike, that's ridiculous! He simply found my thing..."

"And how did he know it was yours?!"

"He didn't. He just assumed. He found it, then saw us. So he thought, maybe we just lost it?" It was as if they had traded roles: now Mike was suspicious and Jane looked for rational explanations.

"Not we. You. He gave it right to you."

"Are you jealous?" the girl smiled.

But Mike didn't accept her tone.

"Is there your name there?" he inquired.

"No. But the handwriting is female. You see, everything is simple."

"Yes. As simple as in the 'cave'... Why was he silent? Is he mute?"

"Maybe he is..."

"Hm, by the way," Mike suddenly reflected. "Perhaps they employ disabled people for work in the 'cave?' There were freak shows in the past, so why not now... That is, all violence which we saw is, of course, staged. But maybe the amputated limbs aren't. And... perhaps, I know how the last trick was arranged. A dwarf! Her head is normal, but the body is so small that can be hidden completely inside a rubber imitation of the torso. Maybe she even has no legs... And the guts are, of course, rubber, too."

"I didn't see any seam on her neck. Where the real head should stick out from..."

"With skillful makeup you won't see it even in half an hour. And we looked for just a few seconds, with the light in our eyes."

"Yes..., you're probably right," said Jane without real confidence in her voice.

They passed by a food booth and this time Mike bought cola to get rid of the taste in his mouth.

"But I still don't like that this guy looked in your notebook," he said, throwing the plastic cup into a trash can. "Okay, there was no name there, but what about anything else that would allow him to find you? Address, phone?"

"Mine aren't there, but yours are," Jane smiled. "So now you'll be harassed by mute clown calls."

"Not funny," Mike said. "I really don't like this. Check if he tore out a page as a souvenir?"

"What nonsense! Why would he need it?"

"I don't know. But I don't like this odd guy. By the way, he beckoned to me right before I