They did not talk; it was awkward to converse with minds on different time rates. Instead Jill thought about the life they were leaving, calling it up and cherishing it, in Martian concepts and English. All her life, until she met Mike, she had been under the tyranny of the clock, as a girl in school, then as a big girl in a harder school, then the pressures of hospital routine.
Carnival life was nothing like that. Aside from standing around looking pretty several times a day, she never had to do anything at any set time. Mike did not care whether they ate once a day or six times, whatever housekeeping she did suited him. They had their own living top; in many towns they never left the lot from arrival to teardown. The carnival was a nest where troubles of the outside world did not reach.
To be sure, every lot was crawling with marks — but she had learned the carnie viewpoint; marks weren't people; they were blobs whose sole function was to cough up cash.
The carnie had been a happy home. Things had not been that way when first they had gone out into the world to increase Mike's education. They were spotted repeatedly and sometimes had trouble getting away, not only from the press but from endless people who seemed to feel that they had a right to demand things of Mike.
Presently Mike thought his features into mature lines and made other changes. That, plus the fact that they frequented places where the Man from Mars would not be expected to go, got them privacy. About that time, while Jill was phoning home a new mailing address, Jubal suggested a cover-up story — and a few days later Jill read that the Man from Mars had gone into retreat, in a Tibetan monastery.
The retreat had been «Hank's Grill» in a «nowhere» town, with Jill as a waitress and Mike as dishwasher. Mike had a quick way of cleaning dishes when the boss was not watching. They kept that job a week, moved on, sometimes working, sometimes not. They visited public libraries almost daily once Mike found out about them — Mike had thought that Jubal's library contained a copy of every book on Earth. When he learned the marvelous truth, they remained in Akron a month — Jill did a lot of shopping, Mike with a book was almost no company.
But Baxter's Combined Shows and Riot of Fun had been the nicest part of their meandering. Jill recalled with a giggle the time in — what town? — when the posing show had been pinched. It wasn't fair; they always worked under prearrange ment: bras or no bras; blue lights or bright lights; whatever the fix was. Nevertheless the sheriff hauled them in and the justice of peace had seemed disposed to jail the girls. The lot closed down and the carnies went to the hearing, along with chumps slavering to catch sight of «shameless women.» Mike and Jill had crowded into the back of the courtroom.
Jill had impressed on Mike that he must never do anything out of the ordinary where it might be noticed. But Mike grokked a cusp —
The sheriff was testifying to «public lewdness» — and enjoying it — when suddenly sheriff and judge were stripped bare.
Jill and Mike ducked out during the excitement; all the accused left, too. The show tore down and moved to a more honest town. No one connected the miracle with Mike.
Jill would treasure forever the expression on the sheriff's face. She started to speak to Mike in her mind, to remind him of how funny that hick sheriff had looked. But Martian had no concept for funny; she could not say it. They shared a growing telepathic bond — but in Martian only.
(«Yes, Jill?») his mind answered.
(«Later.»)
They neared the hotel, she felt his mind slow down as he parked the car. Jill preferred camping on the lot — except for one thing: bath tubs. Showers were all right, but nothing could beat a big tub of hot water, climb in and soak! So sometimes they checked into a hotel and rented a car. Mike did not, by early training, share her hatred for dirt. He was now as clean as she was — but only because she had retrained him. He could keep himself immaculate without washing, just as he never had to see a barber once he knew how Jill wanted his hair to grow. But Mike enjoyed immersing himself in the water of life as much as ever.
The Imperial was old and shabby but the tub in the «Bridal Suite» was big. Jill went to it as they came in, started to fill it — was unsurprised to find herself stripped for her bath. Dear Mike! He knew she liked to shop; he forced her to indulge her weakness by sending to never-never any outfit which he sensed no longer delighted her. He would do so daily had she not warned him that too many new clothes would be conspicuous around the carnival.
«Thanks, dear!» she called out. «Let's climb in.»
He had either undressed or vanished his clothes — the former she decided; Mike found buying clothes without interest. He could see no sense in clothes other than for protection against weather, a weakness he did not share. They got in facing each other; she scooped up water, touched it to her lips, offered it to him. The ritual was not necessary; it simply pleased Jill to remind them of something for which no reminder could ever be necessary, through eternity.
Then she said, «I was thinking how funny that horrid sheriff looked in his skin.»
«Did he look funny?»
«Oh, yes indeed!»
«Explain why he was funny. I do not see the joke.»
«Uh … I don't think I can. It was not a joke — not like puns and things which can be explained.»
«I did not grok he was funny,» Mike said, «In both men — the judge and the lawman — I grokked wrongness. Had I not known that it would displease you, I would have sent them away.»
«Dear Mike.» She touched his cheek. «Good Mike. It was better to do what you did. They'll never live it down — there won't be another arrest for indecent exposure there for fifty years. Let's talk about something else. I have been wanting to say that I'm sorry our act flopped. I did my best in writing the patter — but I'm no showman, either.»
«It was my fault, Jill. Tim speaks rightly — I don't grok chumps. But it has helped me to be with the carnie … I have grokked closer to chumps each day.»
«You must not call them chumps, nor marks, now that we are no longer with it. Just people — not “chumps”. »
«I grok they are chumps.»
«Yes, dear. But it isn't polite.»
«I will remember.»
«Have you decided where we are going?»
«No. When the time comes, I will know.»
True, Mike always did know. From his first change from docility to dominance he had grown steadily in strength and sureness. The boy who had found it tiring to hold an ash tray in the air could now not only hold her in the air while doing other things, but could exert any strength needed — she recalled one muddy lot where a truck had bogged down. Twenty men were trying to get it free — Mike added his shoulder; the sunken hind wheel lifted itself. Mike, more sophisticated now, did not allow anyone to guess.
She recalled when he had at last grokked that «wrongness» being necessary before he could make things go away applied only to living, grokking things — her dress did not have to have «wrongness.» The rule was for nestlings; an adult was free to do as he grokked.
She wondered what his next change would be? But she did not worry; Mike was good and wise. «Mike, wouldn't it be nice to have Dorcas and Anne and Miriam here in the tub, too? And Father Jubal and the boys and — oh, our whole family!»
«Need a bigger tub.»
«Who minds crowding? When are we making another visit home, Mike?»
«I grok it will be soon.»
«Martian “soon”? Or Earth “soon”? Never mind, darling, it will be when waiting is filled. That reminds me that Aunt Patty will be here soon and I mean Earth “soon”. Wash me?»
She stood; soap lifted out of the dish, traveled all over her, replaced itself and the soapy layer slathered into hubbles. «Oooh! You tickle.»