JILL STOPPED TO GRAB a negligee from a well-stocked wardrobe, hurriedout into the living room and let in Mrs. Paiwonski. .Come in, dear. We weregrabbing baths in a hurry; he’ll be right out. I’ll get you a drink- then you canhave your second drink in the tub if you like. Loads of hot water.“.I had a shower after I put Honey Bun to bed, but-yes, I’d love a tub bath.
But, Jill baby, I didn’t come here to borrow your bath tub; I came because I’mjust heartsick that you kids are leaving the show.“.We won’t lose track of you.“ Jill was busy with glasses. The hotel was so oldthat not even the .Bridal Suite“ had its own ice dispenser but the nightbellman, indoctrinated and subsidized, had left a carton of ice cubes. .Timwas right and you know he was. Mike and I have got to slick up our act a lotbefore we can hold up our end.“.Your act is okay. Needs a few laughs in it, maybe, but-Hi, Smitty.“ As Mikecame in, she offered him a gloved hand. Mrs. Paiwonski always wore glovesaway from the lot, and a high-necked dress and stockings. Dressed so, shelooked like a middle-aged, most respectable widow, who had kept her figuretrim in spite of her years-looked so, because she was precisely that.
.I was just telling Jill,“ she went on, .that you’ve got a good act, you two.“Mike smiled gently. .Now, Pat, you don’t have to kid us. It stinks. We knowit.“.No, it doesn’t, dearie. Oh, maybe it needs a little something to give it somezing. A few jokes. Or, well, you could even cut down on Jill’s costume a little.
You’ve got an awful cute figure, hon.“Jill shook her head. .That wouldn’t do it.“.Well, I saw a magician once that used to bring his assistant out dressed forthe Gay .Nineties-the eighteen-nineties, that is-not even her legs showing.
Then he would disappear one garment after another. The marks loved it. Butdon’t misunderstand me, dear-nothing unrefined. She finished . . . oh, inalmost as much as you wear now.“.Patty,“ Jill said frankly, .I’d do our act stark naked if the clowns wouldn’tclose the show.“ As she said it, she realized that she meant it- and wonderedhow Graduate Nurse Boardman, floor supervisor, had reached the pointwhere she could mean it?
Mike, of course- And she was quite happy about it.
Mrs. Paiwonski shook her head. .You couldn’t, honey. The marks would riot.
Just a touch more ginger ale, dear. But if you’ve got a good figure, why notuse it? How far do you think I would get as a tattooed lady ii I didn’t peel offall they’ll let me?“.Speaking of that,“ Mike said, .you don’t look comfortable in all those clothes,Pat. I think the aircooling in this dump has gone sour again -it must be atleast eighty.“ He himself was dressed in a light robe, his concession to theeasy-going conventions of carney good manners. Extreme heat, he hadlearned, affected him slightly, enough so that he sometimes had to adjustconsciously his metabolism-extreme cold affected him not at all. But he knewthat their friend was used to the real comfort of almost nothing and affectedthe clothes she now wore to cover her tattoos when out among the marks; Jillhad explained it to him. .Why don’t you get comfortable? .Ain’t nobody herebut just us chickens.’“ The latter, he knew, was a joke, an appropriate one foremphasizing that friends were in private-Jubal had tried to explain it to him,but failed. But Mike had carefully noted when and how the idiom could beused.
.Sure, Patty,“ Jill agreed. .If you’re raw under that dress, I can get yousomething light and comfortable. Or we’ll just make Mike close his eyes.“.Uh ... well, I did slip back into one of my costumes.“.Then don’t be stiff with friends. I’ll get your zippers.“.Le’me get these stockings and shoes.“ She went on talking while trying tothink how she could get the conversation around to religion, where shewanted it. Bless them, these kids were ready to be seekers, she was certainandshe had counted on the whole season to bring them around to the light .
. . not just one hurried visit before they left. .The point about show business,Smitty, is that first you have to know what the marks want . . . and you haveto know what it is you’re giving them and how to make .em like it. Now if youwere a real magician- oh, I don’t mean that you aren’t skillful, dear, becauseyou are.“ She tucked her carefully rolled hose in her shoes, loosened hergarter belt and got out of it modestly, let Jill get her dress zippers. .I mean ifyour magic was real like you had made a pact with the Devil. That’d be onething. But the marks know that it’s clever sleight-of-hand. So you give .em alight-hearted show to match. But did you ever see a fire eater with a prettyassistant? Heavens, a pretty girl would just clutter his act; the marks arestanding around hoping he’ll set fire to hisself~ or blow up.“She snaked the dress over her head; Jill took it and kissed her. .You lookmore natural, Aunt Patty. Sit back and enjoy your drink.“.Just a second, deane.“ Mrs. Paiwonski prayed mightily for guidance -wishedthat she were a preacher . . . or had even the gift of gab of a talker. Well, herpictures would just have to speak for themselves-and they would; that waswhy George had put them there. .Now this is what I’ve got to show the marks... this and my snakes, but this is more important. Have either one of youever looked, really looked, at my pictures?“.No,“ Jill admitted, .I guess not. We didn’t want to stare at you, like acouple of marks.“.Then stare at me now, dears-because that’s why George, bless his sweetsoul safe in heaven, put them on me. To be stared at . . . and studied. Nowright up here under my chin is the birth scene of our prophet, the holyArchangel Foster-just an innocent babe and maybe not knowing whatHeaven had in store for him. But the angels knew-see .em there around him?
The next scene is his first miracle, when a young sinner in the country schoolhe attended shot down a poor little birdie . . - and he picked it up and strokedit and it flew away unharmed. See the school house behind? Now it kind o’
jumps a little and I’ll have to turn my back. But all of .em are dated for eachholy event in his life.“ She explained how George had not had a bare canvasto work with when first the great opus was started-since they had both beensinners and young Patricia already rather much tattooed . . . how with greateffort and inspired genius George had been able to turn .The Attack on PearlHarbor“ into .Armageddon,“ and .Skyline of New York“ into .The Holy City.“.But,“ she admitted candidly, .even though every single one of them is asacred picture now, it did kind of force him to skip around to find enough bareskin to record in living flesh a witness to each milestone in the earthly life ofour prophet. Here you see him preaching on the steps of the ungodlytheological seminary that turned him down-that was the first time he wasarrested, the beginning of the Persecution. And on around, right on my spine,you see him smashing idolatrous images - . . and next you see him in jail,with the holy light streaming down on it. Then the Faithful Few bust into thejail-.
The Reverend Foster had realized early that, when it caine to upholdingreligious freedom, brass knucks, clubs, and a willingness to tangle with copswas worth far more than passive resistance. His had been a church militantfrom scratch. But he had been a tactician, too; pitched battles were foughtonly where the heavy artillery was on the side of the Lord.
.-and they rescue him and tar & feather the idolatrous judge who put himthere. Around in front here. Uh, you can’t see it very well; my bra covers mostof it, A shame.“(.Michael, what does she want?“)(.Thou knowest. Tell her. .).Aunt Patty,“ Jill said gently, .you want us to look at all your pictures. Don’tyou?“.Well ...it’s just as Tim says in the bally, George used up all the skin I have inmaking the story complete.“.If George went to all that work, I’m sure he meant for them to be seen. Takeoff your costume. I told you that I wouldn’t mind working our own act starknaked if they’d let me-and ours is just entertainment. Yours has a purpose - .
- a holy purpose.“.Well ... all right. If you really want me to.“ She sang a silent hallelujah anddecided that Foster himself was sustaining her-with blessed luck andGeorge’s pictures she would yet have these dear kids seeking the light.
.I’ll unhook you-.
(.Jill-.)(.No, Michael?“)(.Wait“)To her utter surprise and some fear Mrs. Paiwonski found that her spangledbriefies and bra were gone! But Jill was surprised to find that her almost-newnegligee followed the little costume into wherever and nowhere. Jill was onlymildly surprised when Mike’s robe disappeared, too; she chalked it up,correctly but not completely, to his catlike good manners.
Mrs. Paiwonski clutched at her mouth and gasped. Jill at once put her armsaround her. .There, there, dear! It’s all right, nobody’s hurt.“ She turned herhead and said, .Mike, you did it, you’ll simply have to tell her.“.Yes, Jill. Pat-.
.Yes, Smitty?’
.You said a while ago that I wasn’t a real magician, that my tricks were justsleight-of-hand. You were going to take off your costume anyhow -so I took itoff for you.“.But how? And where is it?“.Same place Jill’s wrapper is-and my robe. Gone.“.But don’t worry about it, Patty,“ put in Jill. .We’ll replace it. Two more - . - andtwice as pretty. Mike, you shouldn’t have done it.“.I’m sorry, Jill. I grokked it was all right.“.Well ... I suppose it is.“ Jill decided that Aunt Patty wasn’t too upset-andcertainly she would never tell; she was carney.
Mrs. Paiwonski was not worried by the loss of two scraps of costume, nor byher own nudity. Nor by the nakedness of the other two. But she was greatlytroubled by a theological problem that she felt was out of her depth. .Smitty?
That was real magic?“.I guess you would call it that,“ he agreed, using the words mostexactly.
.I’d rather call it a miracle,“ she said bluntly.
.You can call it that, too, if you want to. But it wasn’t sleight-of-hand.“.I know that. You weren’t even near me.“ She, who daily handled live cobrasand who had more than once handled obnoxious drunks with her bare hands(to their sorrow), was not afraid. Patricia Paiwonski was not afraid of the Devilhimself; she was sustained by her faith that she was saved and thereforeinvulnerable to the Devil. But she was uneasy for the safety of her friends.
.Smitty ... look me in the eye. Have you made a pact with the Devil?“.No, Pat, I have not.“She continued to look into his eyes, then said, .You aren’tlying-.
.He doesn’t know how to lie, Aunt Patty.“.-so it’s a miracle. Smitty ... you are a holy man!“.I don’t know, Pat.“.Archangel Foster didn’t know that he was a holy man until he reached histeens . . . even though he performed many miracles before that time. But youare a holy man; I can feel it.“ She thought. .I think I felt it when I first metyou.“.I don’t know, Pat.“.I think he may be,“ admitted Jill. .But he really doesn’t know, himself.
Michael - . . I think we’ve told her too much not to tell her more.“.’Michael!’“ Patty repeated suddenly. .The Archangel Michael, send downto us in human form.“.Aunt Patty, please! If he is, he doesn’t know it-.
.He wouldn’t necessarily know it. God performs his wonders in his ownway.“.Aunt Patty, will you please wait and let me talk, just for a bit?“Some minutes later Mrs. Paiwonski had accepted that Mike was indeed theMan from Mars, she had agreed to accept him as a man and to treat him as aman - . . while stating explicitly that she still held to her own opinion as to histrue nature and why he was on Earth-explaining (somewhat fuzzily, itseemed to Jill) that Foster had been really and truly a man while he was onEarth, but had been also and always had been, an archangel, even thoughhe had not known it himself. If Jill and Michael insisted that they were notsaved, she would treat them as they asked to be treated-God moves inmysterious ways.
.I think you could properly call us .seekers,’“ Mike told her.
.Then that’s enough, my dears! I’m sure you’re saved-but Foster himself wasa seeker in his early years~ I’ll help.“She had participated in another minor miracle. They had been seated in acircle on the rug. Jill lay back flat and suggested it to Mike in her mind. Withno patter of any sort, with no sheet nor anything to conceal a non-existentsteel rod, Mike lifted her. Patricia watched it with serene happiness,convinced that she was vouchsafed sight of a miracle. .Pat,“ Mike then said.
.Lie flat.“She did so without argument, as readily as if he had been Foster. Jill turnedher head. .Hadn’t you better put me down first, Mike?“.No, I can do it.“Mrs. Paiwonski felt herself gently lifted. She was not frightened by it; shesimply felt overpowering religious ecstasy like heat lightning in her loins,making tears come to her eyes, the power of which she had not felt since, asa young woman, Holy Foster himself had touched her. When Mike movedthem closer together and Jill put her arms around her, her tears increased,but her cries were the gentle sobs of happiness.
Presently he lowered them gently to the floor and found, as he expected, thathe was not tired-he could not recall when last he had been tired.
Jill said to him, .Mike ... we need a glass of water.“(.????“)(.Yes, . her mind answered.)(.And?“)(.Of elegant necessity. Why do you think she came here?“)(.I knew. I was not sure that you knew .. or would approve. My brother. Myself“)(.My brother.“)Mike did not get up to fetch water. He sent a glass from the tray of drinks intothe bathroom, had the tap fill it, returned it to Jill’s hands. Mrs. Paiwonskiwatched this with almost absent-minded interest; she was beyond beingastonished. Jill held the glass, said to her, .Aunt Patty, this is like beingbaptized - . . and like getting married. It’s ... a Martian thing. It means that youtrust us and we trust you . . . and we can tell you anything and you can tell usanything . . . and that we are always partners, now and forever. It’s veryserious ... and once done it can never be broken. If you broke it, we wouldhave to die-at once. Saved or not. If we broke it- But we won’t. But you don’thave to share water with us if you don’t want to-we’ll still be friends. Now - . -if this in any way interferes with your faith, don’t do it. We don’t belong to yourchurch even though you guessed that we did. We don’t. We may neverbelong. .Seekers’ is the most you can call us now. Mike?“.We grok,“ he agreed. .Pat, Jill speaks rightly. I wish we could say it to you inMartian, it would be clearer. But this is everything that getting married is . . -and a great deal more. We are free to offer water to you but if there is anyreason at all, in your religion or in your heart, not to accept-don’t drink it!“Patricia Paiwonski took a deep breath. She had made such a decision oncebefore - with her husband watching . . . and had not funked it. And who wasshe to refuse a holy man? And his blessed bride? .I want it,“ she said firmly.
Jill took a sip. .We grow ever closer.“ She passed the glass to Mike.
He looked at Jill, then at Patricia. .I thank you for water, my brother.“ He tooka sip. .Pat, I give you the water of life. May you always drink deep.“ Hepassed the glass to her.
Patricia took it. .Thank you. Thank you, oh my dears! The .water of life’-oh, Ilove you both!“ She drank thirstily.
Jill took the glass from her, finished it. .Now we grow closer, my brothers.“(.Jill?“)(.Now!!!“)Michael lifted his new water brother, wafted her in and placed her gently onthe bed.
Valentine Michael Smith had grokked, when first he had known it fully, thatphysical human love-very human and very physical-was not simply anecessary quickening of eggs, nor was it mere ritual through which one grewcloser; the act itself was a growing-closer, a very great goodness-and (so faras he knew) unknown even to the Old Ones of his former people. He was stillgrokking it, trying at every opportunity to grok its fullness. But he had longsince broken through any fear that heresy lay in his suspicion that even theOld Ones did not know this ecstasy-he grokked already that these his newpeople held spiritual depths unique. Happily he tried to sound them, with noinhibitions from his childhood to cause him guilt or reluctance of any sort.
His human teachers had been unusually well qualified to instruct hisinnocence without bruising it. The result was as unique as he himself.
Jill was very pleased but not really surprised to find that .Aunt Patty“accepted as inevitable and necessary, and with forthright fullness, the factthat sharing water in a very ancient Martian ceremony with Mike led at onceto sharing Mike himself in a human rite ancient itself. Jill was somewhatsurprised (although still pleased) at Pat’s continued calm acceptance when itcertainly had been demonstrated to their new water brother that Mike wascapable of more miracles than he had disclosed up to then. However, Jill didnot then know that Patricia Paiwonskj had met a holy man before-Patriciaexpected more of holy men. Jill herself was simply serenely happy that acusp had been reached and passed with right action and was ecstaticallyhappy herself to grow closer as the cusp was determinbed-all of which shethought in Martian and quite differently.
In time they rested and Jill had Mike treat Patty to a bath given by telekinesis,and herself sat on the edge of the tub and squealed and giggled when theolder woman did. It was just play, very human and not at all Martian; Mikehad done it for Jill on the initial occasion almost lazily rather than raisehimself up out of the water-an accident, more or less. Now it had become acustom, one that Jill knew Patty would like. It tickled Jill to see Patty’s facewhen she found herself being scrubbed all over by gentle. invisible hands . . .
and then, presently dried in a whisk with neither towel nor blast of air.
Patricia blinked. .After that I need a drink. A big one.“.Certainly, darling.“.And I still want to show you kids my pictures... all of them.“ Patricia followedJill out into the living room, Mike in train, and stood in the middle of the rug.
.But first look at me. Look at me, not at my pictures. What do you see?“With mild regret Mike stripped her tattoos off in his mind and looked at hisnew brother without her decorations. He liked her tattoos very much; theywere peculiarlY her own, they set her apart and made her a self. Theyseemed to him to give her a slightly Martian flavor, in that she did not havethe bland sameness of most humans. He had already memorized them alland had thought pleasantly of having hiniseif tattooed all over, once begrokked what should be pictured. The life of his father, water brother Jubal?
Re would have to ponder it. He would discuss it with Jill-and Jill might wish tobe tattooed, too. What designs would make Jill more beautifully Jill? In theway in which perfume multiplied Jill’s odor without changing it?
What he saw when he looked at Pat without her tattooS pleased him but notas much; she looked as a woman necessarily must look to be woman. Mikestill did not grok Duke’s collection of pictures; the pictures were interestingand had taught Mike that there was more variety in the sizes, shapes,proportions and colors of women than he had known up to then and thatthere was some variety in the acrobadcs involving physical love-but havinglearned these simple facts he seemed to grok that there was nothing more tobe learned from Duke’s prized pictures. Mike’s early training had made of hima very exact observer, by eye (and other senses), but that ssme training badleft him unresponsive to the subtle pleasures of voyeurism, it was not that bedid not find women (including, most emphaticaly Patricia Paiwoiiski) sexuallystimulating, but it lay not in seeing them. Of his senses, smell and touchcounted inucb higher-in which he was quasi-human, quasi-Martian; theparallel Martian reflex (as unsubtle as a sneeze) was triggered by those two,but could activate only in season-what must be termed .sex“ in a Martian isas romantic as intravenous feeding.
But, having been invited to see her without her pictures. Mike did notice moresharply one thing about Patricia that he already knew: she had her own face,marked in beauty by bet life. She bad, he saw with gentle wonder, her ownface even more than Jill had, and it made him feel toward Fat even more ofan emotion he did not as yet call love but for which be used a Martianconcept more discriminating.
She had her own odor, too, and her own voice, as all humans did. Her voicewas husky and he liked to hear it even when he did not grok her meaning;her odor was mixed (he knew) with an unscrubbed trace of bitter muskinessfrom daily contact with snakes. It did not put him off; Pat’s snakes were partof Pat as were her tattoos. Mike liked Pat’s snakes and could handle thepoisonous ones with perfect safety-and not alone by stretching time toanticipate and avoid their strikes. They grokked with him; he savored theirinnocent merciless thoughts-they reminded him of home. Other than Pat,Mike was the only person who could handle Honey Bun with pleasure to theboa constrictor. Her torpor was usually such that others could, if necessary,handle her-but Mike she accepted as a substitute for Pat.
Mike let the pictures reappear.
Jill looked at her and wondered why Aunt Patty had ever let herself betattooed in the first place? She would really look rather nice-if she weren’t aliving comic strip. But she loved Aunt Fatty for what she was, not the way shelooked-and, of course, it did give her a steady living at least until she got soold and haggard that the marks wouldn’t pay to look at her even if all thosepictures had been signed by Rembrandt. She hoped that Patty was tuckingaway plenty in the grouch bag_then she remembered that Aunt Patty wasnow one of Mike’s water brothers (and her own, of course) and Mike’sendless fortune gave Patty certain old-age insurance; Jill felt warmed by it.
.Well?“ repeated Mrs. Paiwonski. .What do you see? How old am I,Michael?“.I don’t know,“ he said simply.
.Guess.“.I can’t guess, Pat.“.Oh, go ahead. You won’t hurt my feelings.“.Patty,“ Jill put in, .he really does mean that he can’t guess. He hasn’t hadmuch chance to learn to judge ages-you know how short a time he’s been onEarth. And besides that, Mike thinks of things in Martian years and Martianarithmetic. If it’s time or figures, I keep track of it for him.“.Well ... you guess, hon. Be truthful.“Jill looked Patty over again, noting her trim figure but also noting her handsand throat and the corners of her eyes-then discounted her guess by fiveyears despite the Martian honesty she owed a water brother. .Mmm, thirtyish,give or take a year.“Mrs. Paiwonski laughed triumphantly. .That’s just one bonus from the TrueFaith, my dears! Jill hon, I’m .way into my forties. Just how far in we won’tsay; I’ve quit counting.“.You certainly don’t look it.“.I know I don’t. That’s what Happiness does for you, dear. Alter my first kid, Ilet my figure go to pot. I got quite a can on me-they invented the word .broad’
just to fit me. My belly always looked like four months gone, or worse. Mybusts hung down-and I’ve never had .em lifted. You don’t have to believe me;sure, I know a good plastic surgeon doesn’t leave a scar . . . but on me itwould show, dear; it would chop chunks out of two of my pictures.
.Then I seen the light! I got converted. Nope, not exercise, not diet- I still eatlike a pig and you know it. Happiness, dear. Perfect Happiness in the Lordthrough the help of Blessed Foster.“.It’s amazing,“ said Jill, and meant it. She knew women who had kept theirlooks quite as well (as she firmly intended to keep hers) but in every caseonly through great effort. She knew that Aunt Patty was telling the truth aboutdiet and exercise, at least during the time she had known her . . . and as asurgical nurse Jill knew exactly what was excised and where in a breastliftingjob; those tattoos had certainly never known a knife.
But Mike was not amazed. He assumed conclusively that Pat had learnedhow to think her body as she wished it, whether she attributed it to Foster ornot. He was still trying to teach this control to Jill, but knew that she wouldhave to perfect her knowledge of Martian before it could be perfect. No hurry,waiting would accomplish it. Pat went on talking:
.I wanted you to see what the Faith has done for me. But that’s just outside;the real change is inside. Happiness. I’ve got to try to tell you about it. Thegood Lord knows that I’m not ordained and I’m not gifted with tongues . . . butI’ve got to try. And then I’ll answer your questions if I can. The first thing thatyou’ve got to accept is that all the other socalled churches are traps of theDevil. Our dear Jesus preached the True Faith, so Foster said and I trulybelieve. But, in the Dark Ages his words were deliberately twisted and addedto and changed until Jesus wouldn’t recognize .em. And that is why Fosterwas sent down to Earth, to proclaim a New Revelation and straighten it outand make it clear again.“Patricia Paiwonski pointed her finger and suddenly looked very impressive, apriestess clothed in holy dignity and mystic symbols. .God wants us to beHappy. He filled the world with things to make us Happy if only we see thelight. Would God let grape juice turn into wine if He didn’t want us to drinkand be joyful? He could just as e............