Pierrot closed his eyes and imagined Rose. And he only pictured her lying beneath him as he held her nipple gently between his teeth. He ejaculated like a white wild mustang bursting forth from its enclosure. He lay there on the couch, sweaty and stinky and depleted, but he felt like the first time had been with Rose. And he would be faithful to her from now on. Pierrot decided right then and there that he would rather die than touch Sister Elo?se again.
“I think we should wait until we are married to do all this again,” Pierrot said. “It’s disrespectful to you. I want to be with you once everyone else and especially God can witness it.”
This is what Pierrot told Sister Elo?se in order to escape her embraces. Sister Elo?se had never felt so happy.
8
THE SNOWFLAKE ICICLE EXTRAVAGANZA
One afternoon when Rose and Pierrot were performing at a patron’s house, a huge snowfall began to tumble down from the sky. The snowflakes fell in big clumps, as though they were children with their arms wrapped around one another and toppling downhill. As Rose and Pierrot performed their little routine, unbeknownst to them, the city was being covered with snow. As soon as they were done with their show someone parted the curtains and noticed that all the trees had turned white.
Pierrot and Rose were underdressed, both having arrived in only their black threadbare coats. And although they both had thin scarves tied in knots around their necks, neither of them had a hat on their dear head. When the lady of the house saw them ready to leave in those outfits, she rummaged through her things to find them some headwear she didn’t want. She found Rose a white fur hat. It was too large and extravagant for a girl so young, but it would certainly keep her warm. She gave Pierrot a man-size overcoat and a pair of galoshes that were two sizes too big.
She gave them a fruitcake to take back to the orphanage and a suitcase filled with old teddy bears. And off they marched down the street like an old couple who had been turned into children by a witch’s magic spell. The snowflakes settled on their hats and shoulders as they headed home.
“She was really nice, wasn’t she?” said Pierrot as they walked down the street. “Or was she too nice?”
“I think she’s sad because she never fell in love. Except she needn’t worry, because love doesn’t exist.”
“How do you know that?”
Rose wiped a large snowflake from her eyelash and raised her head to try to catch one with her tongue. Pierrot put his hands out to catch some.
“I read it in a Russian novel,” she said, looking at Pierrot again. “The Russians have figured everything out because their winters are so long. It makes them very thoughtful.”
“How do you know all these wonderful things?” Pierrot asked.
One of the things that Rose really enjoyed about Pierrot was how quick he was at understanding what she said. She couldn’t count on her hand the times when she had told an especially clever thought to one of the nuns at the orphanage and their response was to consider having her lobotomized.
They passed a billboard with a group of posters plastered to it, advertising a show that was going to be performed downtown in the near future.
There were the Parisian cancan dancers. There was a group of tap dancers from Poland. There were aerialists from Bulgaria. There was a contortionist who claimed she had mailed herself in a box from Germany. There was the White Bat Orchestra from Russia. There was a group of Ukrainians who shot themselves out of cannons. There was a Russian flea circus. A man with a big mustache and a fur hat yelled at the wee little fleas. He brought them across the sea in a suitcase with a fancy lining. They each got their very own matchbox to sleep in. Pierrot and Rose agreed that if they had any money, this was the show they would go to.
“I think I would like to make a show of my own,” Rose said. “I am going to find all the clowns in the world and take them out of whatever circus they are in and make them perform in mine. I am going to find really, really sad ones too. I need some who can ride on bicycles.”
“Oh yes. You should have a clown who always falls off buildings and then cries.”
On the trolley, Rose took a piece of paper out of her pocket and a stub of a pencil. She put the paper on the seat between her and Pierrot. She began to write down everything she had just told Pierrot.
“We can travel from town to town and be world renowned. There will be stories about us in the newspaper.”
Pierrot looked impressed. As he always lived entirely in the moment, it never occurred to him to look into the future. But Rose was always looking so far ahead.
“Let’s leave our act to the very end,” Rose declared. “Let’s make a giant moon, and we’ll dance underneath it together.”
“What if the moon falls on our heads and kills us?”
“We’ll hang it from really strong ropes.”
“What will the revue be called?”
Rose looked at him intently for a brief moment. And then she looked back down at the paper and scribbled on it. She held it up afterward, and at the top of the page, in bold letters, was written: The Snowflake Icicle Extravaganza.
“What do you think?”
“Lots of clowns, right?”
“All the clowns we can find.”