September, 1980
I remember that I never tested myself again until Harvey’s. In fact, I don’t think I believed I really could. I have the memory, but it’s wispy and
vague. A dream, the moment you wake up
and want to tell someone. It’s almost
there, but it’s gone. And there in front
of Dr. Max Marvel I asked myself for just that one second, would I ever be able
to do it again? And suddenly I knew that
I could—that I had been born to it. But for audiences? My
other thought was that this: that Dr. Max Marvel looked familiar. But I couldn’t place him.
2.1 Harvey’s
The second
voyage gets Alberta as far as the Canada-U.S. border before she is
turned back sans forged note, and a
small chunk of hash. I know, I know, what was she thinking, right?
She gets
off lightly by her standards. A border
guard is offered a blowjob. Offer
accepted. The deed was swift. She’s been through worse she tells herself as
she walks down the hall, throat locked tight: At least they didn’t call in the Flying Monkeys to come fetch me like
last time. She smiles to convince
the world how stalwart she is, still holding the guard’s semen in her mouth. She floods her mouth with saliva to dilute
the poison. Outside now, Alberta doesn’t even wait the three steps
to the nearest garbage bin before she purges, vowing to find industrial soap
before nightfall to cleanse her soul.
She stares at the viscous earth, allowing tears for a nanosecond before
spitting again. No one is there. Indeed, Alberta is suddenly invisible. The guard, in some drab little room, lights a
cigarette taken from Alberta’s confiscated pack. He laughs, not realising the joke’s on him: his wallet has just been lifted.
Outside, Alberta ponders food and a place to
sleep. She flips through the wallet,
scavenging the cash, pocketing the guard’s ID for a trophy—later throwing the
wallet into the lake, staying some twenty minutes to watch it sink. But she will be disappointed for the wallet
does not sink but rather, it is carried out of sight by the cold black
waves. Dismayed, she heads to Harvey’s, smug in the knowledge that she’s
richer by at least a week’s worth of Yankee green.
Maybe I can join some travelling circus Alberta wonders as she orders Holy Pasture Pancakes Batman! There’s a
Yes,
there’s a sideshow chowing down in Harvey’s.
Can you believe the synchronicity?
I know I know, I could barely believe it myself, but truth is always stranger than fiction.
This is great, I’ve
always wanted to run away with a circus. She
approaches the table, chocolate milkshake in hand.
“That’s
nice kiddo. Take a number. What can you do?”
“What can I
do?”
“Yes. Do. Do.
What can you do? Are you blessed
with any sideshow skills? Are you contortionist? A geek? Had any experience or training in the circus
performance sector? What can you do?
Everyone wants to join a circus but nobody ever has any skills.” Dr. Max Marvel sighs, his burden great.