"Howard Waldrop - Winter Quarters" - читать интересную книгу автора (Waldrop Howard)

once. His name was of course Jason. (In ten years you'll be able to walk into any crowded bar in
America and say "Jason! Brittany!" and fifty people will turn toward you....)



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We saw Arnaud in the Grand Entry, then in the first walkaround while riggers changed from the
high-wire to the trapeze acts; we watched the tumblers, and the monkeys in the cowboy outfits riding the
pigs with the strapped-on Brahma bull horns; we ate peanuts and popcorn and Cracker-Jacks and
cotton candy. Halfway through, the ringmaster with his wireless microphone said: "Ladeez an Genuhmen,
in the center ring," (there was only one), "presenting Sir Harry Tusker and His Performing Pachyderms,
Tantor and Behemoth!"
There were two long low blasts form the entrance doorway, sounds lower than an elephant's, twice as
loud. I felt the hair on my neck stand up.
Walking backwards came Sir Harry Tusker, dressed in pith helmet, safari jacket, jodhpurs, and shiny
boots, like old pictures of Frank Buck. In came Tantor and Behemoth -- big hairy mounds with tusks
and trunks, and tails like hairy afterthoughts. Their trunks were up and curved back double, and each let
out a blast again, lower than the first. The band was playing, of course, Lawrence Welk's "Baby Elephant
Walk."
The crowd applauded them for being them; Jason's eyes were big as saucers.
They went to the center of the ring and you realized just how big they really were, probably not as big
as mammoths got (they were both females, of course) but big, bigger than all but the largest bull African
elephants. And you're not used to seeing females with tusks two meters long, either.
They did elephant stuff -- standing on their hind legs, their hairy coats swaying like old bathrobes,
dancing a little. In the middle of the act a clown came out -- it was Arnaud -- pushing a ball painted to
look like a rock, acting like it weighed a ton, and Behemoth picked it up, and she and Tantor played
volleyball while Sir Harry and Arnaud held the net.
It was pretty surreal, seeing hairy elephants do that. It was pretty surreal seeing big shaggy elephants
the size of Cleveland in the first place.



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The show was over too soon for Jason.
At the souvenir booth, Dr. Fred bought him a copy of The Shaggy Baggy Saggy Mammontelephant,
a Little Golden Book done by a grand-descendant of the author of the original elephant one. It was way
below his reading level, but he didn't mind. He was in heaven while we left word and waited out back for
Arnaud.
He showed up, out of makeup, looking about forty, still tall and thin. He shook hands with us like we'd
seen each other yesterday.
Jason asked, "Are you really a clown?"
Arnaud looked around, pointed to himself, shook his head no.
"Let's go get something to eat besides popcorn," said Dr. Bob. "When do you have to be back?"
Arnaud indicated eighteen, a couple of hours.