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.A Traveling Show	By : keithcompany Category: Titles in the Public Domain > Gulliver's Travels Views: 1837 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work fiction, based on Gullivers Travels by Jonathan Swift.

Chapter List
- 1-A Traveling Show
- 2-two
- 3-three
- 4-Four
- 5-five
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Much later, Bruce came back to check on us. He found us amongst scattered tools and materials on his workbench. He seemed angry, but was holding it in.
"He's going to say bad words, isn't he?" May asked. June rushed over to the edge of the bench, waving her arms for his attention. He knelt to bring his face close.
She then showed him her skill level. She'd touch a brooch or a torq or a ring we'd found in the drawers, then point to a feature, then run across the place to find the tool that he must have used to make that.
In moments, his anger evaporated. His eyes lit up and he started testing her. Some answers were wrong, but he just looked speculative, like he'd never imagined using this tool to do that effect.
Finally, she tugged on a magnifying glass until he picked it up, then showed him the ring on her finger that she had made, pointing from her finger to her chest and back again. He smiled and shook his head. Not a negative, but in wonder.
"I think you've got a fan," Pat told June. She smiled, proud, an expert on something the rest of us couldn’t do. Hey, more power to her.
He fished around for a while, finding the smallest tools he could, hoping for something she might actually use. They were still way too big. She gestured for paper, got it, and drew out what she wanted and the size she needed. He nodded and quickly produced a tiny metal hammer and a chisel.
He circled the rest of her requests and waved at the sun.
"He means later," Fay suggested. June nodded and started to work on a ring. Bruce had made it to appear as a mermaid that wrapped around a finger. June was adding depth and detail to the face and hair. He watched her work for a bit, then went back out.
I was expecting the vehicle to move, but he actually left, shutting the door firmly behind. May stayed with June while the rest of us ran to the other room.
"Where did he go?" Fay asked.
"Who knows?" Pat replied.
"Is there anything changed out here?" I wondered. We looked, but found no clue to his departure. Turned out, he was getting lunch. A paper sack held a remarkable dish, a meat course layered between breads, with a salad and the cheese tray in it as well.
He set it on a plate and the plate on the workbench. He'd realized, or guessed, that our little smith wasn't going to quit so soon after starting, and the rest of us weren't going to leave her alone for a meal.
He made sure we were all settled, then went back out. He was gone much longer, long enough for us to manage to get June to eat a little bit.
Back again, he had a number of sacks of materials. One was a case about the size of his hand with pictures of people on it. He tapped it, said "Gulliver," and left it on the bench. On closer view, there were indeed tiny people among the people on the cover.
"Is that a book?" I asked. But he was gone. In the other room, he had strips of some thick, dense mesh that he was affixing to the lower part of some of the windows.
"It's a hide!" Fay realized. "We can see through the mesh, but no one can see us! We can look out the windows!"
Man, what a world we lived in now. With the exception of June, we spent most of the next two days positively glued to the windows.
One or another would play lookout, shouting out: "Oh! Come see this!" or "By the frigging EGG!" and we'd rush over. Bruce had observed our skills as Balance Dancers and tied bits of something he called 'floss' all over the place. It was nearly as wide as my palm, sticky enough to hold without being too adhesive to let go, light but strong. Lengths of it stretched between points were, to us, as good as the Royal Courier Highway. Those that depended from the ceiling allowed heroic swinging from point to point.
Seconds after an exclamation, the sisterhood was gathered to view...whatever there was to view. After observing one such gathering, our giant host termed us 'acrobats' in his tongue and walked carefully through the forest of strings.
Vehicles, like and unlike the one we rode in, surrounded us as we traveled. Wheels inside, outside, front and back; two, four, six, a dozen. Wheels on the sides or mounted on the back for no visible purpose fired our imagination.
The vehicles ranged from smaller than the rider to bigger than the Capitol! And they were everywhere! Admittedly, we were in one, but it seemed that the entire world was devoted to places to drive, park, pile and assemble the things.
Buildings, cities, great assemblies of people came and went, but the 'cars' as Bruce identified them, they were omnipresent.
Those buildings were impressive, too. Great variety, walls of glass, brick, lumber or egg only knew what. And the colors! I never heard of such a people for color. What our tradesmen did with their doors, the Englishman clans did with their cities.
We never did run out of new things to see outside the windows.
Inside, we had new things as well. Bruce had brought back a time piece. It was as big as a house, but without any visible springs or water troughs. It also had three arms, running at different speeds. He drew a sketch of the 'sandwich' he set on his workbench and attached it to one part of the clock face. It was exactly where the 'ower' arm was pointing.
He drew another tiny sketch of the sandwich and placed it at another spot. There were controls on the back to adjust the arms. He managed to convey that we'd eat again when the ower arm moved to the second drawing.
The first day passed quickly, with us staring and pointing and exclaiming. He smiled indulgently and drove on. Fay tried to estimate the distances we traveled, but the numbers came out ridiculously huge and she gave up.
He parked in a field that was dotted with vehicles the same size and similar in shape to what we rode in. We watched as he ducked out, returning with more paper sacks and food.
June was forcibly dragged into the front to have dinner with the rest of us. She was in a sort of daze, it seemed. Just the ability to work with such huge amounts was unheard of in her experience.
We discussed the possibility of some Fuscan designed silver jewelry, and also pondered just what the giant was doing with the jewelry he had. Was he selling it as a business or was it a hobby?
"You may," May suggested to our newest sister, "be our only source of income. I mean, we can't perform without being seen, but you can smith away."
Rather than pleased, June looked terrified. "Oh, don't feel responsible for all of us," I assured her, wrapping my arms around her for a hug.
When I did, Bruce reached over to me. I wasn't sure what he was doing until he fingered my sleeve. The stitching had come out and my shirt was starting to slide off of me.
"It's the sea water," Pat said. "All our clothes are falling apart."
"Pretty soon, we'll be naked," May agreed.
"I don't think he minds," Fay pointed out. Bruce was staring at me, at the glimpse of my arm and side normally covered by my clothing. I wasn't sure what to do. Before I could decide, he shook his head and rose.
He was talking quite a bit while he searched through some cabinets, pulling out clothing. Then he rushed into the bedroom and shut the door.
"Now what?" I asked. No one had a clue. A few moments later, he came out, dressed in the oddest shirt I'd ever seen. It was covered with pockets. Some bulged, some sagged, all were arranged on a mesh background.
"What the shell does he carry in all those?" Pat asked. The answer was immediate: us. One at a time, with soothing sounding words, he scooped us up and placed us in one or another pocket. He'd state a name, and I was amazed that he got Pat and May right. We had relatives that couldn't keep the twins straight.
We were settled in individual pockets, except June was riding together with May. It was how I'd have arranged it, and I was surprised at how well he seemed to understand us.
He made sure each head was out of sight, but didn't fully close the pockets so we could see out.
Then he left the vehicle. In the back was an even smaller vehicle! Two wheels were connected by a minimal seat and lots of shiny metal. I wasn't quite able to see how he readied it, but there was a huge blast of noise, and a vibration that made me feel each and every one of my bones.
The roar and bounce went on for a while. I thought I heard one of the twins screaming in the distance, probably Pat whooping in glee.
When I could focus again, Bruce had entered a building. It appeared to be a collection of...stuff. It was largely incomprehensible until he found a doll section. They were of every size, from waist high to June up to knee high to Bruce.
The man was trying to find us some new clothes. The problem was, when he tried to show us something, to get our opinion, he'd have to keep us hid from other shoppers. And one woman kept following him around.
Quite literally, every time he turned around, there was a woman in some sort of uniform staring at us. Maybe she thought he was putting stuff in all those pockets? The look on her face reminded me of Farphelupp every time we entered his market, even though we hardly ever juggled his fruit any more.
Fairly quickly, frustration or scrutiny drove him out of the store, without any purchases. Back on the controlled explosion, and back to the larger moving home.
He eased us out of the pockets and onto his bed, talking the whole while. He seemed apologetic about the aborted shopping trip. We tried to sign that he was forgiven, and he may have understood. He smiled, anyway. Then he picked up the box he'd called 'Gulliver.'
He took it to one of the devices we'd never identified in this room. There was moving and manipulating, and suddenly there was a picture. A glass screen the size of a theatre stage lit up and there was an actor talking to us.
In Englishman, of course. Still, we settled ourselves politely and watched. The moving pictures were fascinating in their own right. It was kind of like a play, but one where we were on stage with the characters. We followed them around their business, including aboard ship and across the seas.
"Hey," June exclaimed. "That one is Gulliver!" Sure enough, if there was one word we could pick out of the dialogue, it was the manmountain's name.
Soon after that, his ship sank and he washed up on a beach. The details of the beach were all wrong for Lilliput, but the bit where the locals tied him down were readily recognizable.
From there, the story was almost understandable. They missed a few details from our history books, but the man, the myth, the legend of the giant flowed properly along.
And when he attacked our harbor, we ran up to Bruce, who was laying on his side to one side of the bed. "Blefuscu!" we all shouted. He nodded and repeated the name of the island. Now he knew where we came from.
After that, Gulliver's travels went on in ways we'd never imagined. He either shrank back down when he went home, or found a nation of giants that made the giants of Gulliver and Bruce look like Blefuscans. And then he spent time on farms. Very weird.
When it was over, Bruce looked at his watch and smiled.
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