one of her … thingamajigs?”
Martin shook his head.
“Grab your coat.”
A chill had settled on the town. Martin and Felix hurried through the darkness, hands in pockets. They passed Henry patrolling Town Square, but didn’t bother to stop and say hello. The show could be starting at any moment. When they reached Lane’s house, an unusually large and modern construction, given its humble neighborhood, Felix rang the bell.
Lane opened the door. She was dressed entirely in black, except for a blue-and-white-striped railroad conductor’s hat, which sat atop her head and kept her avalanche of dark hair at bay.
“Give them all electricity and they all stay home,” she said, her silver eyes narrowing. “Starting to think no one would show tonight. Starts in two minutes. Payment?”
“When the new Internet is up, free installation,” Felix said.
“I work with solar panels,” Martin added.
“I know what you do,” she said.
“You’re next in line,” Martin said to sweeten the deal.
“That doesn’t concern me,” she said. “What does concern me is your choice of lodging. But we can chat about that later. Tell you what. Consider this show on the house. For both of you.”
“A freebie?” Felix said. “Well, isn’t that something? This one a dud?”
“Hardly,” Lane said. “Sometimes, the most important art is free.” With that, she rotated on one heel and led the way inside. Stepping through the door, Martin was confronted with a sight as strange as any he had seen. Felix’s house was nothing compared to this.
—— 10 ——
The Rube
W alls had been knocked down or chopped apart until the support beams were all that remained. Floors had been removed so that the ceilings reached to the heavens. They had to. With everything piled inside, ten feet of vertical space wouldn’t do. Neither would twenty.
Glass lanterns mounted on the beams provided an eggy glow. White plastic pipes, sliced in half lengthwise, cut twisting paths through the open air. Bunches of shoes were hung by their laces like wind chimes or mobiles. A green plastic swimming pool filled with water was suspended in the air by tight metal cords. Wooden tables were stacked on top of each other to form pyramids. Bells, each a different size, descended diagonally above the tables. Ropes and pulleys. Record players. Doves in cages. A tepee of paper and wood, sitting on the floor, in the middle of it all.
Every color and shape imaginable was vying for Martin’s attention, but he chose to watch Lane. She lumbered aroundand over everything in her way until she was standing at the foot of a long steel ladder that leaned against the highest of the pipes. For some reason, Martin had expected her to be more graceful, but there was still something fluid about the way she moved. As she began to climb, her hips swung from side to side and her arms and legs made large swooping movements and attacked each rung. Her awkward, swaying confidence reminded him of twisted fronds of kelp floating on the ocean.
When she reached the top of the ladder, she stopped for a moment to catch her breath, then turned the top half of her body around and steadied herself by grabbing the pipe.
“Gentlemen,” she called out. “Are you ready to be dazzled?”
Felix raised his fist and called back, “You betcha!”
“Are you ready to be shocked?” she yelled.
“Why the heck not!” Felix was clearly swept up in the moment. Martin didn’t have a clue what any of this was about, but he nodded and smiled just the same.
“Welcome to the world premiere of Lane Ruez’s brand-new masterpiece. I call it …
The Rube
!”
With that, she thrust a hand up in the air and grabbed a thin chain that was dangling next to her ear. She gave it a violent yank.
Ropes and pulleys let loose with whines and squeaks, which were followed by a quick smack of darkness. Somehow, all but one of the lanterns had been extinguished.
Martin looked up at the sole lantern that