4 comments/ 53011 views/ 4 favorites The Medicine Show By: Silverstag "Gentlemen and ladies. I hold in my hand the greatest elixir ever invented. I call it Doctor Washburn's Miracle Elixir because Washburn is my name. I must confess that I did not invent it. I discovered it on one of my journeys to the holy land. It's powers acknowledge no limitations. It's secret ingredients come to us from the mysterious regions of the far east and then they are mixed with water from Israel. Yea even water from the River Jordan, the same sanctified stream where John the Baptist placed his loving, baptizing hands on our dear saviour." I was just getting warmed up. " Is this elixir blessed? In all honesty I can make no such claim but I have witnessed its blessing, healing attributes with my very own eyes. You suffer from excess bile? Drink of this and suffer no more. Your joints ache and your muscles cry out? Drink of this and ache and cry no more. Sleep eludes you? Drink of this and sleep like a babe in its mother's arms. You lack vigor? Vigor is in this bottle. You lack inspiration? Find it here. Your marital relationship has lost it's uh spark? The fire starts here." I paused and surveyed the crowd standing in front my brightly painted wagon. "I see the skeptical look on some of your faces. I know that some of you doubt. You would say to me Doctor Washburn how can this be and I say to you, try one bottle of this magic brew and if you are not completely satisfied you will have your money cheerfully refunded. One dollar, one small thin greenback can open the doors to a whole new way of life. Supplies are limited but for a short time you can purchase a dozen bottles for ten dollars. Such a bargain, such a blessing." I was interrupted by a voice from the crowd. "What kind of doctor are you?" a man said with a midwestern drawl. "I am a doctor of medicine and a doctor of theology. I studied medicine at Rutgers University and theology at the Boston Seminary," I said sternly. "Humph, doctor of bullshit if you ask me," the man said. I ignored him and resumed my spiel. "Alright, who will be first. What brave soul, what progressive thinker will step up and step into a new life of renewed vigor and vitality." "Aw, I reckon I'll try some," a man said, holding out a dollar bill. He walked up to me with a pronounced limp, bending over and clutching his back with a look of pain on his face. I took the greenback, handed him a bottle and said, "You made a wise decision, stranger." Actually he was no stranger. He worked for me, driving the wagon, tending to the horses and helping me set up at each new town. He was a shill as it were, my partner in dishonesty. My name was not Washburn and I was a doctor of nothing, except bullshit, as you may have surmised. I had begun my show business career in New England as a carnival barker and then moved up to advance man for a wild west show called Washburn's Last Sensation - The Moral Show of the Age. In my odd moments I frequented medicine shows and revivals and sensed the possibilty of combining alcohol with religion to good advantage. I liked the name Washburn, adapted it when I began my own enterprise and heeded Horace Greeley's advice to go west. Washburn's MIracle Elixir was nothing more than herbs, spices, sugar, water and lots of rum. Most of my customers were tee-totalers and the rum usually provided the needed effect, usually in short order. Needless to say - but I'll say it anyway - I moved around a lot. This fine fall day I was in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. I had parked my wagon near a regional fair to take advantage of the crowds, a practical thing to do since taking advantage was what I did. My associate took one big drink of the miracle elixir, waited for a pregnant moment and then straightened his bent back and began to dance a little jig, shouting "Hallelujah, hallelujah, bless my stars it works!" His performance was impeccable and showed the result of many hours of patient coaching and practicing and it produced the desired effect. Men began to reach into their overalls and women into their purses and business was, as they say, brisk. I made a mental note to cook up a new batch as soon as possible. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a tall man and a women approaching my wagon. The man was dressed in black, wearing a string tie and clutching a bible. He looked to be in his 60s. The woman looked to be about 20 years younger. She had a lean face, dark hair, piercing blue eyes and a handsome figure from what I could see of it under a stark black dress. Several people in the crowd noticed them and began to back away from the wagon. Oh goody goody I thought to myself, just when business is booming the local preacher man show ups. I turned to the man, held out a bottle of the elixir and said, "Welcome Reverend it's always nice to meet a fellow man of the cloth. Please take a sample of my wares as a professional courtesy." He ignored my offer and said, "You may call it the balm of Gilead but I call it the devil's brew." "But Sir, you haven't even tried it. Take but one taste and then decide its merits." "I know your ilk, Doctor," he said, with a sneer. "The only thing your potion will merit is intoxication followed by fornication followed by eternal damnation." I smiled and said, "I have paid a fee for the privilege of being here and have a signed and very legal permit from the County Fair Board. I have just as much right to be here as you do." "Yes," he said, "that may be true but in a day or two you will be gone to purvey your pernicious potion elsewhere and I will still be here dealing with damaged souls." "You left out pleasing and providential in your description," I said. "Jest with me if you will, sir, but be advised that I and certain members of my congregation will be keeping close tabs on you." With that he grabbed the woman by her arm and said, "Come along, Sarah, we've done all we can do here today." The woman smiled at me, nervously and then turned to follow her husband. I wondered about the smile and I wondered about her. She had seemed uncomfortable during his diatribe and somewhat reluctant to be there. I had had some experience with the wives of preachers and made a mental note to drop by the parsonage if the opportunity presented itself. Business resumed when the preacher and his companion departed. One of my customers said, "I noticed you looking at the preacher's wife." "A handsome woman," I said, "what do you know about her." "Not much," he said. "Hear tell it was an arranged marriage. They say she's the daughter of a preacher who went to seminary with the Reverend Hobart." "And what pulpit would the good Reverend Hobart fill?," I asked, making another mental note of the preacher's name. "First Baptist. It's the biggest church in town, catty corner from City Hall. You can't miss it." "Thanks for the information," I said, "here's a second bottle, on the house." The crowd began to dwindle as evening approached and the shadows lengthened and I decided to shut down for the night. It had been a good day, except for the visit from the parson and that had not necessarily been a bad thing if I played my cards right and my intuition was correct. My assistant, who had noticed the eye contact between me and the Preacher's wife, came up to me and said, "Are you quittin' early, boss?" "I think so," I said. "I think I'll take a stroll down town." "Well, I'll see you in church." he said, with a laugh. I walked into town and easily found the First Baptist Church. The door was unlocked, as most churches were in that day and time, but the building was empty. A brief bit of moseying around yielded some useful information - the address of the parsonage and the fact that a deacon's meeting was scheduled for 7 p.m. that very evening. Timing is everything. I found a mirror and checked to see if my tie was straight and my hair combed and felt my pockets to make sure that I had brought along a bottle or two of Dr. Washburn's Miracle Elixir. I rarely went anywhere without some of my product because a good salesman never knows where or when his next customer may appear. I stopped someone on the street and got directions to the parsonage. It was, not surprisingly, close to the church. It was a small but apparently well maintained bungalow, white with brown shutters and a well kept yard. I saw no sign of children's toys or playthings. It was about half past six, about time for the Reverend to leave for the Deacon's meeting, so I put myself in a strategic position across the street where I could see the house without being seen. Sure enough, after a few minutes the door to the house opened and the Reverend Hobart scurried down the street, carrying a small valise. I waited for a few minutes, straightened my tie, slapped a smile on my face and walked across the street to the parsonage. I knocked on the door and Mrs. Hobart opened it. "Reverend Hobart is," she stopped what she was saying as she recognized me. "Oh, it's you, the man from the medicine show. If you're looking for Reverend Hobart he's at the church for a deacon's meeting." She smiled and continued, "He won't be home for an hour or two." I tipped my hat and said, "Ezra Washburn at your service ma'am. I came by to try to make amends with your husband and to offer you that free sample of my wares." She laughed and said, "Good luck with the making amends part but thank you for the sample." She took a hasty look around the neighborhood to see if anyone was about and said, "Would you like to come in for a bit?" "I would be delighted." She led me into a modest living room. There was a bookcase full of bibles and various theological tracts and text books. On the wall was the obligatory picture of Jesus and a framed reproduction of Da Vinci's The Last Supper. She motioned toward a simple horsehair covered sofa and said, "Please make yourself comfortable. Can I offer you something to drink? We have tea and lemonade." "I thought you might like to sample some of my elixer. You can partake of it as it is or it can be mixed with most any other beverage." "Reverend Hobart contends that what you call elixir is probably little more than demon rum," I interrupted her to say, "The ingredients are a trade secret." She laughed and said, "As I was about to say before you interrupted me I wouldn't mind a dance with the demon, as it were, although drinking and dancing are strictly prohibited by the Baptists." I raised my eyebrows and said, "Madame you are a total and enchanting surprise." "Well, I was certainly a surprise to the Reverend Hobart although I'm not sure he was or is enchanted." "I see," I said and then paused for a moment. She smiled at me again and nodded her head. Seeing a seizing an opportunity which begged taking advantage of I continued. "Perhaps you'd like to talk about whatever problems you might be having. I've found that it's often easier to discuss certain matters with an impartial observer and I have had some counseling experience as part of my infrequent ministerial duties." She laughed and said, "If you're a real minister I'm a monkey's uncle, or aunt, as it were." I smiled back at her and said, "What do you take me for?" "I take you for what you probably are," she said, "a charming man, glib with his tongue, fast on his feet, but inherently good and caring and a possible ticket out of this dreadful, boring place." "You get right to the point don't you, Mrs. Hobart." "Necessity is the mother of invention and you can call me Sarah." "Alright, Sarah, what are you proposing?" "A way out of this two-bit town, this arranged marriage, this dull un-fulfilling life. I realize that I know very little about you but I sense, I hope, that underneath the showman's exterior is a good and caring man who might consider helping a woman who is in much need of help. If I sound desperate please believe that I am. Desperate times inspire desperate deeds." I smiled reassuringly and nodded at her. Our conversation had taken a very quick and very surprising turn. I had anticipated a quick dalliance but she obviously had other things in mind. "Whoa, Sarah," I said, "this conversation is moving pretty fast. I'm not entirely sure what you're proposing. I tend to travel light and unencumbered. I didn't come here looking for a wife." "I'm not looking for a husband, Doctor Washburn." "Call me Jack." "Alright, Jack, I already have a husband and if he's an example of husbandry I'd sooner move into a nunnery." "Go on," I said, my mind racing. "I realize that what I'm proposing is far from what you came for. I think I know what you came for and perhaps you can have it but that will have to wait. Let me tell you a bit about me. I don't want you to think that I'm silly or stupid. I am considerably younger than my husband as you no doubt observed. I spent a good number of years helping my father care for my mother. When she died my father took a new wife and convinced me to come here and marry an old friend of his from seminary. I am educated - at least as much as my father would allow and although I am not versed in the ways of the world I am well-read and I realized almost as soon as I came to this town that it, this house and this marriage were a trap, sucking the life out of me. I've been desparately looking for a way out." "Your family can't help you?" I asked. "Family?," she snorted, "my family is of no use to me. As I just told you my mother is dead, God rest her soul. I have two sisters, both Bible believing Baptists, married to ministers and living far from here and my father, damn his soul, put me in this impossible situation." "You have no children?" "Not yet and none on the way although the good reverend would like to change that. I've been trying to limit our conjugal relations to safe times of the month and the use of vinegar douches." "You are very well informed." "I told you that I read a lot. But let's get to the point. Will you help me get out of my predicament? Will you take me with you when you leave Cedar Rapids?" I paused and thought and then said, "Sarah as much as I would like to help a fellow human being in their time of need I am a business man, ever mindful of the bottom line, of profit and loss. In so many words, what's in it for me?" "I'm not proposing a long-term commitment. I would be with you only long enough to get my feet on the ground and that ground being a fair distance from here. In the meantime I could help you with your enterprise - I'm a fast learner - I could cook your meals, I could entertain you." "Explain the entertainment part." She stood up and said, "Let me show you." I started to stand up and she said, "Don't get up. Just sit there and please don't say a word." I nodded and watched as she put a hesitant hand on the top button of her stark black dress. She slowly began the unbuttoning process and I watched with the eagerness of a little boy watching someone unwrap a Christmas present. When she was through unbuttoning her dress she took if off her body, carefully folded it and laid it on her chair. She was wearing a white slip or chemise or whatever women call those things. She smiled at me, a bit uncertainly and pulled the garment over her head and off of her body. She was now wearing a serviceable white bra and what appeared to be plain cotton underpants. She looked at me and said, "Should I continue?" "Yes please do," She interrupted with a shush and said, "I asked you not to talk. Just nod your head." I did so, vigorously. She reached behind her back, unsnapped her bra and let it drop to the floor. Her breasts were gorgeous. Milky white with rosy red nipples. Not too big, not too small, just right. I caught my breath and said, "Beautiful." "Shush." Then she reached down and pulled down her underpants, letting them drop to the floor and stepping out of them. Her waist was slim, her legs well-shaped and her crotch was covered by a thick thatch of black hair. She was perhaps as good looking a woman as I had ever laid eyes upon. My cock was now at full stature, straining the confines of my trousers. She dropped her gaze to my crotch, smiled and brought her gaze back to my face. "I take it you approve," she said with a little laugh. "Heartily and completely, if I may be allowed to talk now." "You may, but first let me finish" she said, spreading her arms wide and displaying herself to me. "Look at me as a blank canvas awaiting a master's touch. I am a very passionate woman, Jack, and I am eager to learn all there is to know about living and loving and I think you would be an excellent teacher. You can have me but only if and when we are safely away from Reverend Hobart and Cedar Rapids." I looked her up and down and said, "Sarah that is a very tempting offer but you are asking a lot. Your charms appear to be considerable and my life of constant travel is sometimes lonely yet I somehow manage to find a willing woman often enough to satisfy my desires." "I grant you that," she said "but look upon me as a challenge and a rare opportunity and I believe you are a man who likes a challenge and recognizes a rare opportunity." I looked at her and then at my steepled fingers and said, "I'll have to think about it." "When will you be leaving Cedar Rapids?" "Bright and early Monday morning," I said. "Then that gives you three days to think about it. How will you let me know what you've decided? It's probably not a good idea for you to come back here to the house." I thought for a moment and then said, "Will you be at church on Sunday?" "Certainly." "I go to church occasionally if only to watch the show. If you see me in church on Sunday I will expect to see you Monday morning." She started to get dressed and I said, "I don't suppose I could have a free sample." "There's a price for everything and sometimes the higher the price the better the value." "Alright, Sarah, enjoy your weekend." "You enjoy your weekend too, Jack and I hope to see you in church." With that I left the parsonage. I walked back to my campsite, deeply absorbed in thought, weighing the pluses and minuses of her proposal. On the asset side - a very attractive woman offering herself to me for enjoyment and education. On the debit side, another mouth to feed, a lot of baggage to carry along (literally if not figuratively) and the prospect of pursuit from an angry husband - possibly a posse. What to do. What to do. When I got back to camp my assistant greeted me with a smile and a question, "How was church?" "Didn't stay long but I had an interesting visit to the parsonage. I"ll tell you about it later, maybe." The next day, Friday, business started slowly but by the afternoon it began to pick up. A large group of women showed up en masse and began to buy. One of them, apparently a spokes-woman said, "We just came from the Baptist Women's Sewing Circle. Sarah, the preacher's wife, raved about your elixir and even shared some with us. It had a marvelous effect on all the ladies," she said, with a giggle. "Madame, I am honored and I appreciate your business." "Now don't you tell our husbands we were here and for sure don't tell the preacher. Sarah made a point of that." "I am the soul of discretion." They departed, having severely de-plenished my stock, leaving me with a smile on my face and my mind racing. Perhaps the sweet and lovely Sarah could be useful, in more ways than one. Saturday brought more brisk business and more than the usual amount of female customers. Apparently the women of the sewing circle were talking up my product with their friends and neighbors of the female persuasion. Nothing beats word of mouth advertising. On Saturday night as I shared supper by the campfire with my assistant he said, "I reckon we sold more goods the last two days then we ever have." The Medicine Show "I reckon you're right." "You ought to be happy as a clam but you're not actin' real happy. Is sumpin wrong?" "I have a lot on my mind." "Would ya like to tell me about it?" I thought for a moment and then said, "I'm thinking about taking on another assistant." "You're not thinkin' about replacing me, are ya?" 'No, I said another assistant, a woman." "Anybody I know?" "No. You've seen her here, briefly, but you don't know her. I don't know her very well either, yet." He smiled and said, "Would that be knowing in a biblical context?" I laughed and nodded my head. "Well, well," he said. After supper I went for a walk and as I walked I thought, weighing again the pros and cons of Sarah's proposal. The picture of her naked body was embellished in my mind and the words she had spoken, "Look at me as a blank canvas awaiting a master's touch," kept running through my head and then she had said, "look upon me as a challenge and a rare opportunity and I believe you are a man who likes a challenge and recognizes a rare opportunity." "What the hell," I said out loud to myself, "nothing ventured, nothing gained." Sunday morning I awoke early after a surprisingly solid sleep and put on my best suit. My assistant eyed me and said, "Goin' somewhere boss?" "I believe I'll go to church this morning. It's a fine Sabbath Day and there is that scripture about remembering the Sabbath and keeping it holy." "Does that mean we won't be open for business this afternoon?" "Not that holy." I arrived at the church early, before anyone else was there and passed the time sitting on the front steps whittling on a stick I had found along the way. As I had hoped Reverend and Mrs. Hobart arrived before anyone else. Preachers are nothing if not predictable. "Good morning, Reverend, good morning ma'am," I said, flashing my biggest smile and holding out my hand for the reverend to shake it. He ignored my hand, glared at me and said, "I did not expect to see you here, Doctor Washburn." The mention of my name fairly seethed with sarcasm. "I try to observe all the commandments, Reverend, particularly the fourth." "Humph," he said. "I'll not deny you entrance for all sinners are welcome in the house of the Lord." Sarah had been standing silently all the while, a step or two behind her husband, looking at me steadily with a smile and a look of gratitude on her face. She stopped momentarily, took my hand and grasped it firmly and said, "Welcome Dr. Washburn, it's a pleasure to see you here." I turned as she walked past and saw that her husband had already gone inside the church. "If you still want to go with me be at my wagon before dawn. We'll leave as soon as the sun is up." "I'll be there come hell or high water." "Good," I said, "where do you sit inside?" "On the left side, on the aisle, second pew from the front." I waited for some of the faithful to arrive and then hurried to a seat on the right side of the aisle, second pew from the front. Sarah and the Reverend stood at the door, welcoming his flock but I noticed that her spot in the adjacent pew was deliberately left vacant. While I waited for the service to begin I amused myself by leafing through the Baptist Hymnal, humming some of the bass parts to myself. I hoped to be in good voice when the congregation sang and it wouldn't hurt my business to be noticed by those in attendance. Now and then I would look around at the congregation and noticed some smiles and looks of recognition from many of the women in attendance. Satisfied customers no doubt. The service was typical Bible Belt Baptist. Heavy on prayers and hymns and I tried to sing my loudest during the latter. The good Reverend seemed especially inspired. His message was on the sins of intoxication and fornication, leading to damnation and I wondered if my presence inspired it. Oh well, I thought to myself, it's an ill wind that blows no one good. During the service I exchanged glances across the aisle with Sarah and was inspired by her smiles and her pleasant appearance. Despite the fact that I was in church I couldn't refrain from mentally undressing her. During the sermon the preacher seemed to be aiming his message directly at me, or so I thought while Sarah looked at him with rapt attention. Perhaps, I thought, it was because it was the last sermon she would hear from her husband. As I left the church I stopped again and held out my hand to Reverend Hobart. This time he gave it a limp shake - there were other people present and it wouldn't look good to shun me. Sarah took my hand and said, "God bless you, Dr. Washburn." "Thank you, Mrs. Hobart. I have a feeling that he will." The afternoon's business was brisk, unusually so for a Sunday. As we sat at the fire counting up the day's blessings I spoke to my assistant. "Be ready to leave bright and early tomorrow morning, Clyde and we may have a passenger." He smiled at me and said, "I didn't know we were in the transportation business." "Call it the salvation business." "The Lord works in mysterious ways," he said with a hearty chuckle. We loaded up the wagon and prepared for an early departure the next day. I fell asleep wondering if Sarah would show up and what would happen if she did. If she didn't appear my life would go on as it had and whether she came or not it had still been a very profitable stay in Cedar Rapids. I was brought out of a deep sleep by a soft touch upon my cheek. I opened my eyes and in the dim glow of the pre-dawn I saw Sarah smiling at me. "Wake up, sleepy head," she said. "We have miles to go before we sleep and promises to keep." I laughed and said, "I love a literate woman. And I really like the part about promises." I grasped her hand with both of mine and said, "I'm glad you're here. Any problems getting away?" She laughed nervously and said, "My husband was fast asleep when I left." "He sleeps soundly?" She laughed again, "He sleeps soundly this morning. I laced his nighttime cup of tea with some laudanum and a dash of Dr. Washburn's Magical Elixir. And I also let him have his way with me. Sort of a parting gift, as it were." She had brought along only two canvas bags, explaining that she had had to pack hurriedly. I told her that we would get her whatever she needed along the way and quickly stowed her things in the back of the wagon. Clyde hitched up the horses and we were ready to leave. "You'd better hide in the back of the wagon until we're safely out of town," I said. She smiled and nodded and said, "I don't know how to thank you." "I'm sure you'll think of a way." We pulled away from the campsite. "Head east," I said to Clyde. "East? I thought we were going west." "We are, but first we're going east, just in case anyone sees us leaving. We'll loop around town as soon as we can and then go west." "Good idea. Throw 'em off the scent." "I hope so." We drove the wagon eastward until we were out of sight of town and then turned north at a crossroad. After about two or three miles we headed the wagon west toward our next stop in Marshalltown, a good day's wagon ride away. When we stopped to rest and water the horses I helped Sarah out of the wagon and said, "I think it's safe for you to come out now. You can sit on the seat between Clyde and me." We walked to the front of the wagon where Clyde was tending to the horses. "Clyde," I said, "meet Mrs. Hobart. She will be joining our merry band of vagabonds for a while." Clyde doffed his hat and said, "Pleased to meetcha ma'am." "Pleased to meet you. And please call me Sarah." "Yes ma'am." As we neared the next small town we stopped and Sarah disappeared inside the wagon. As we drove through the town I saw a livery stable. "Stop here," I said, "we're going to buy a horse and saddle if they have one." "What for?" "For you to ride. I've been thinking that a saddle mount might come in handy now and then and we cleared enough in Cedar Rapids to more than pay for one. Besides, Mrs. Hobart and I have some things to discuss - in private." "You're not thinkin' about lettin' me go, are you Jack?" "Not on your life," I said. "You're an important part of this enterprise. We'll just have to make room for Sarah. Which reminds me, while we're here let's look around for another sleeping tent." I told Sarah our plans and asked her to lie low. We went into the stable and after the appropriate amount of bargaining we emerged with a suitable horse and saddle. We tied the horse to the wagon, walked a few doors down the street to a general store and bought a tent and a few other provisions. We left the town with Clyde on the horse and me driving the wagon. When we were a mile or two away from the town I stopped the wagon and helped Sarah out of her hiding place. She climbed up beside me on the wagon seat and we were on our way again. Sarah took my hand and said, "I can't believe that I'm here with you, away from a horrible situation. It's like somebody lifted a huge weight from off of my shoulders." "Are you frightened?" "Uncertain would be a better word, or relieved and a little bit excited." "Well that's natural," I said, "but we're not out of the woods yet. I'll be more comfortable about this when we get a little further away from Cedar Rapids." "So will I." We rode and talked and told each other the story of our lives, at least the abbreviated version. I had grown up in New York state and had indeed attended Rutgers University in New Jersey, studying law - not medicine. My father had been a Presbyterian minister and had hoped I would follow in his footsteps. "Maybe that's why you were so understanding of my predicament," she said. "Perhaps," I replied, "although Presbyterians are a bit more liberal than Baptists. My father had an opinion about Baptists." "And what was that?" " He called them Methodists who couldn't read." She laughed. "So are you a lawyer?" she asked. "I dropped out of school after a couple of years. I had started going into New York City now and again and attending the vaudeville shows on the Keith Circuit and was attracted to show business. I can sing a little but I can't dance or juggle. I do have a good voice and I enjoy talking so I became a carnival pitchman and did that for several years. One day I was approached by a man from Washburn's Last Sensation, a wild west show that was touring the east. They were looking for an advance man and made me an attractive offer. I was with them for several years and then decided to launch my own enterprise and here I am." "How old are you?" "I am nearly 50," I said. "How old are you." She laughed and said, "A gentleman never asks a lady her age, as I'm sure you know. Suffice to say that I'm old enough and wise enough to realize that there is more to life, much more than I have experienced." "I'd guess you for somewhere in your 30s," I said. "Nearer to 40 but thanks for the compliment." "Tell me more about you, a lot more," I said. "Well, as I told you, my father is a minister, my sisters both married ministers and you know about my marriage to still another minister. I was born and raised in Indiana and went to school through high school. I wanted to go to college and perhaps become a teacher but my mother became ill with consumption and, being the youngest daughter and the only one still unmarried and living at home I became her nurse. Her disease was long and lingering, as consumption frequently is and I spent nearly 20 years caring for her until she died. During those years I read almost everything I could get my hands and eyes upon and the more I read and the more I pondered I, to quote my father, began to lose my faith." "Who did you read?" "Charles Darwin and Robert Ingersoll to name a few." "I am familiar with both of them," I said, "and I can imagine that your father was not pleased." "You imagine correctly. A lot of that reading I did at the local library or surrepticiously at home. After my mother died my father soon married a member of his flock and I was, as it were, excess baggage, and he arranged to marry me off to a former seminary classmate of his. I moved to Cedar Rapids, married Reverend Hobart and and I guess you pretty much know the rest of the story." "Tell me about him." "He's inherently a good man, as far as I can tell, but he's extremely rigid, very prudish and with very old-fashioned ideas about women and their place in society. "Barefoot and pregnant," I said. "Bingo. So there I was, in a dull town married to a dull man who had an entirely different view of the world from my own. I think, I know I tried to be a good wife and I was slowly resigning myself to a dull life. And then you came along." "Serendipity," I said. "Exactly. I realize that showing myself to you like I did was very unconventional. Many people - at least many women - would consider it licentious and wanton but, as I believe I said, desperate times require desperate deeds. Apparently it had the desired effect." "Indeed it did," I said "but don't sell womanhood short. It's been my experience that beneath the staid and pious exterior that many women show to the public there's a good bit of the pagan." "You should write a book." "Some day perhaps I shall." We rode and talked and I began to realize that in Sarah I had truly discovered a diamond in the rough, just waiting for some polishing. We discussed how she could contribute to our enterprise. The trade that she had sent me in Cedar Rapids through word of mouth was considerable but, of course, in Cedar Rapids she was a known entity. I wondered if she could do the same in places where she was a stranger. "Women are, as you know," she said, "inherently open and talkative to other women - at least other women that they don't consider a threat. I think that with the proper dress and demeanor I could drop in on sewing circles and ladies church groups and convince a few ladies to try our product and, as you know, it only takes a few to get the ball rolling." "Well said," I said. "You might call it net working and Jesus pretty well summed up the process when he said Follow me and I will make you fishers of men. Second Corinthians, verse ten. Of course in this case we're talking about women but where the women go the men will follow." "Ain't that the truth," she said with a laugh. "Sarah," I said, "you are a treasure, a wonderful discovery. I must confess that I was initially attracted to you simply by your body - which I found most pleasing to behold - and to find such an exceptional brain inside that pretty head fairly boggles my mind." She smiled at me and, squeezing my hand, said, "I would like to boggle more than your mind. At least I would like to try." "I plan to give you that opportunity," I said. "When will that be?" "Whenever you are ready. My view of you has changed considerably in the brief time I've come to know you. I no longer look at you simply as a sex object but as a business partner, a very attractive business partner I might add." She smiled and, leaning toward me, gave me a lingering kiss and then she said, "Thank you for saying that. I think you really mean it. When I first saw you I sensed something about you that appealed to my deepest emotions. Call it silly, call it women's intuition, call it whatever you want to call it but it was there and I had the courage to react to it." She paused and then she said, "This is getting pretty philosophical isn't it." I laughed and returned her kiss and said, "An intelligent, articulate woman in a beautiful body. My cup runneth over." "Psalm 23," she said. "That one was easy Jack. By the way, is your name really Jack? And what's your last name?" "John Abner Thompson is my full and legal name. My friends call me Jack and my trade name is Doctor Ezra Washburn. You may call me anything you wish and I hope it's in terms of endearment." It was almost dark by the time we reached Marshalltown and we made temporary camp at the edge of town. In the morning I would pay a courtesy call on the sheriff, a man I knew from previous visits, pay the required vendor's fee and arrange to set up shop on the town square. After supper I took Sarah aside and said, "Do you want to share my tent or sleep in the new tent we bought today?" She smiled and said, "You're giving me a choice?" I nodded and she said, "I think I'd like to be with you." I smiled and we prepared to bed down for the night. I lit a small oil lamp and closed the tent flaps. Looking intently at Sarah I said, "I usually sleep in my birthday suit." "I usually wear a nightgown," she said. "Whatever makes you comfortable," I said. "I want you to know a few things about me and my attitude toward others. I never go where I'm not wanted nor do I take what is not freely offered. Understand that I want you to be with me only as long as you want to be with me and vice-versa. If at any time you become unhappy with our relationship you are free to go." She smiled and touched my cheek and said, "Thank you. My woman's intuition was indeed correct." I finished taking off my clothes and watched her disrobe. When she was naked she turned to me and said, "I'd like to wear a nightgown, at least for tonight." "Whatever pleases you pleases me." "Thank you," she said. I watched reluctantly while she put on her nightgown and then laid down beside me. I made no attempt to cover my cock which was standing at full staff after watching her undress. She looked me over intently and than she said, "You are a handsome man, Jack." "And you are a lovely lady, Sarah." She laughed and said, "Oh you're just saying that, however" and here she reached down and touched my cock, "at least part of you thinks I'm lovely." "Be careful there. That's a loaded weapon," I said. "Will it shoot?" "It's been known to," I said. "I want to see it shoot" "You've never seen a man come?" "No. I've felt it - in my limited experience with Reverend Hobart - but I've never seen it. Sex with him was always in the dark, under the covers and much too hurried. You could say that the pastor was very inhibited." "Well, the uh gun is loaded and ready to fire. All it needs is fingers on the trigger," I said. "The question is, your fingers or mine." "Why don't you start and let me finish." "Sounds good to me," I said. I reached down and began to stroke my cock, using the pre-cum oozing from the tip to lubricate it. "You'll note," I said "that it comes with it's own lotion dispenser." "Very interesting," she replied. I stroked my cock some more and then I said, "but sometimes you need to provide extra lubrication," and I brought my hand to my mouth and licked it. "Of course there are other ways to get the saliva from the mouth to the uh, instrument." "I've read about that," she said, "I believe they call it fellatio. It's derived from the latin verb felare meaning - to suck." "Sarah you are a continual amazement." "Thank you," she said. "It's too bad you can't do that to yourself." "Actually," I said, "I once knew a contortionist in one of the side shows I worked, who claimed he could do it although I never actually saw him do it. We considered trying to work it into his act but decided it was a little too risque, even for the carnival." I continued to masturbate while Sarah watched intently. "I really enjoy watching you do that," she said. "Does it feel better in some parts than others?" "Yes," I said, "give me your hand and I'll show you." I took her hand in mine and said, "Stick out your index finger and feel this part right here," touching her finger tip to the sensitive spot on the underside just under the crown. She began to rub it gently. "Does that feel good?" The Medicine Show "Yes." "Do you want me to keep doing it?" "Yes and use your whole hand. Just mimic what you saw me doing." She tentatively grasped my cock and began to stroke it up and down. "You can squeeze it a little harder," I said, "it won't break." She did and then I said, "Take your other hand and gently caress my balls but do it gently because they will break." She put her other hand on my testacles and gently felt them. "They feel like little eggs," she said, "and I suppose in a way they are since that's where your sperm is hatched." Between her stroking and her fondling I was about to come. "Get your hand a little wetter," I said. She leaned over my cock and dribbled some spit right on the head. She left her head there, about six inches from my tool and stroked me faster. "Get ready," I said, "I'm about to shoot." "Shoot for me Jack. I want to see you shoot." My cock erupted with the first spurt hitting her directly on her mouth and the rest cascading over her hand. "My goodness," she said, "that was quite a blast. It looks a bit like cream. Does it taste like cream?" "Taste it and see." She stuck out her tongue and captured the come on her upper lip. "Nope, not like cream. Sort of salty and chalky but not altogether unpleasant." She examined the come on my cock and her hand and said, "No sign of the sperm." "They're in there," I said, "a whole bunch of them wondering where the hell the egg is." "And they'll all die won't they." "Life isn't fair, Sarah." "Ain't that the truth." I handed her a handkerchief and she cleaned me up. "Thank you," I said, "that felt wonderful." "You're welcome," she replied. "It was my pleasure, very enjoyable and quite educational. And now I suppose it's time to go to sleep. That's what the Reverend Hobart always does right after." "It does have a soothing, sedative effect on a man," I said. "Sleep well, Jack." "You too." She snuggled close to me and I fell asleep with one hand cupping a very nice, very warm breast. Next morning, after breakfast I saddled up our new horse and rode into town to pay a courtesy call on the Sheriff, purchase a vendor's license and check out some of the churches for possible meetings for Sarah to attend. I hitched my horse in front of the Sheriff's office and walked in, hoping they hadn't changed Sheriff's since my last visit. My hopes were realized. "Sheriff Simpson?" I said. "Doctor Washburn, I presume, our should I call you Jack" said the Sheriff. "Word travels fast in this town, doesn't it." He laughed and said, "Well it didn't hurt that I rode past your wagon early this morning. I was expecting to see you." "And here I am to pay the vendor's fee and to give you a free sample of Dr. Washburn's Miracle Elixir." I gave him a bottle of the brew which he gratefully accepted. "Mrs. Simpson will be glad to have this and I will be glad to give it to her. It's a strange thing," he said, with a laugh, "but after a few drinks of your elixir Mrs. Simpson seems more than ready for me to give it to her, if you get my drift." "The wonders of modern medicine never cease to amaze," I said. He laughed again and then his face took on a serious expression. "Jack, did you come here from the fair at Cedar Rapids?" I hesitated and then said, "Indeed I did." "We got a telegraph wire from the Sheriff in Cedar Rapids. Seems somebody may have kidnapped a preacher's wife. Would you know anything about that?" His question did not come as a complete surprise. "As a matter of fact I do, Sheriff," I said. "As a matter of fact the woman in question is with me and she was not kidnapped. She left of her own accord and I am sure she would gladly sign a statement to that effect." He looked at me sternly and said, "You've always been square with me and I tend to believe you but just to make sure I want you to bring the lady here, pronto and let me talk to her in private." "I'll go get here and be back as quick as I can." "You do that." I rode back to camp and spoke to Sarah. "You need to come back to town with me and tell the Sheriff that you left Cedar Rapids on our own accord." Her expression turned from a smile to a look of fear. "Don't get alarmed," I said, "I know this Sheriff well and we get along. I figured something like this would happen sooner or later and we'd just as well put it behind us." She agreed with my reasoning and we climbed into the wagon and drove directly to the Sheriff's office. When we pulled up the Sheriff was waiting at the door. "Sheriff Simpson, meet Sarah Hobart who was not kidnapped from Cedar Rapids." The Sheriff looked her over admiringly and said, "Ma'am if you'll step inside I'm sure we can get this cleared up. Dr. Washburn you stay out here." Sheriff Simpson opened the door to his office, ushered Sarah inside and closed the door behind them. I took the opportunity to visit a couple of nearby churches, making notes about upcoming women's functions. After about a half an hour I walked back to the Sheriff's office and sat on a bench whittling. After a few more minutes the Sheriff and Sarah emerged. From the look on her face I could tell that everything was alright. "Well, Dr. Washburn," the Sheriff said, "this nice lady has convinced me that she left Cedar Rapids of her own free will and has signed a written statement to that effect. I will send a telegram right away to Cedar Rapids and advise them of her where-abouts and that she came here willingly." "Thank you," I said. His look turned serious for a moment and he said, "Jack you best keep a watchful eye. It's not uncommon for a husband to come after his wife in these circumstances, even if the husband is a preacher." I nodded and he said, "When you came back so quick with your wagon I figured that everything was on the up and up. While you're here let's finish up the paperwork." We went into his office where I paid the vendor's fee and filled out the forms. Then I reached into my pockets and brought out two more bottles of my brew and gave them to him. "Thank you, Jack, Mrs. Simpson will be most appreciative, as will I", he said with a twinkle in his eye. "You're lucky your first stop after Cedar Rapids was in my jurisdiction. Some of the lawmen around these parts might not be so reasonable." I nodded and started to leave and he said, "Keep an eye out for that woman's husband. If she were my wife I think I'd try to get her back." I left the Sheriff's office and we moved the wagon across the street to the city park and began to set up shop. As we worked Sarah related her meeting with the Sheriff and I told her what I had learned from my visits to the two churches. We discussed the possibility of a visit from her husband and she said, "There's no way I'm going back with him. I've done more living in my one day with you than in all the days of my life put together. I'm here with you for as long as you want me." "I think that might be forever," I said. "Good. That's settled. You let me handle the good Reverend Hobart, if he comes." While Clyde finished setting up our wagon Sarah and I walked through Marshalltown, nailing up posters here and there advertising our presence and stopping at a few more churches along the way. That evening I took the three of us out to dinner. When we returned to the wagon I said, "I think it's time to turn in. It's been an eventful day." Sarah said, "Go ahead. I'll be in in a minute. I have something I need to discuss with Clyde." I wondered what that was about but went into our tent as she had asked. In a few minute she came in to the tent and I said, "What were you and Clyde discussing?" "Just something to do in case my husband shows up. I don't want to talk about it now so please don't ask," she said. "Alright," I said, "just don't do anything stupid." "I put my trust in you," she said, "You'll have to trust me too." "Do you think he'll come after you?" "I would be surprised if he didn't and I imagine he won't waste any time about it." "In that case I think you'd better stay here by the wagon tomorrow." "Good idea. I will." I turned the oil lamp down as low as it would go and we undressed. She sat in front of me naked with her feet crossed at the ankles and her legs bowed out, framing her femininity. "No nightgown?" I asked. She laughed and said, "I shan't be needing it anymore I trust." I sat across from her and she said "I've got an idea." "What's that?" "Last night I watched you masturbate. Tonight I'd like to return the favor. I want you to watch me. I do know how to do it. I've been masturbating since puberty. I even masturbated after I got married, especially after I got married. Would you like to watch?" "Absolutely." She smiled and began to fondle her breasts, pinching at her little rosy nipples and rubbing them with her fingertips. "Do you like my breasts?" Then she looked at my hard cock and said, "I guess that was a stupid question." "I love your breasts," I said, "although I've had very limited experience with them." "You don't think they're too small?" "They're perfect." "Thank you." Then she dropped her hands to her mound and slowly ran her fingers through her pubic hair. I sat in rapt attention as she slowly inserted one finger into her labia and began to slowly stroke it up and down. Then she removed her finger and I could see that it was wet and glistening.. She held her finger out to me and said, "Care for a taste?" I responded by moving closer to her and opening my mouth. She put her finger into it and let me suck on it for a moment. "Tasty, very very tasty," I said, "and not at all salty and chalky." She laughed and said, "I can hardly believe I'm doing this. I can hardly believe I'm here. I've thought about doing this for a man ever since I was a girl but I never dreamed it would actually happen." I smiled and said nothing and she returned her finger to her nether lips. "Now for the good part," she said and with one hand she spread her lips exposing a twinkling, tiny clitoris. "I suppose you know what this is," she said. "Your clitoris." "Yes but the girls in school called it our buzzy button." "An apt description." "We thought so. Would you like to touch it?" "I would indeed," I said. "I would very much like to touch it and also taste it," "Oh, that sounds so exciting and so very wicked." "May I?" "Be my guest." She laid down and spread her legs wantonly and invitingly. As I moved closer to her she said, "This is something else I fantasized about and never thought would happen." "It sounds like you had a very active fantasy life," I said. "Growing up the way I did I had to have fantasies or I would have gone crazy. Then when I married the good Reverend I thought I would really go crazy. Now you can drive me crazy. But in a nice way." "Gladly," I said and laid on my belly in front of her. I stuck out my tongue and began to lap up and down her valley of delights. Then I captured her clitoris between my lips and rubbed them back and forth. She cried out in pleasure and I inserted a finger inside of her. She was wet and wanting and her pussy was emanating the indescribable aroma of eau de vagina. I reveled in her smell and feel and quickened my pace. She pulled my head tight against her and said, "Eat me, Jack. Consume me." I quickly established a rhythmic motion with my tongue and finger and added a second finger to the mix. Her response told me I'd found her g-spot and I sucked and stroked like a man possessed. Her hips began to buck and quiver and she cried out, "Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes yes yes!" I delighted in her response and reluctantly pulled away from her. I looked at her and said, "Did little Sarah enjoy that?" "Little Sarah enjoyed that immensely," she said . She looked at me lovingly and put her hand on my cock and said, "Now we have to take care of little Jack. Lie down and let me get better acquainted with him." I stretched out beside her and watched in the dim light of the oil lamp and she began to stroke my cock, capturing the pre-cum and paying special attention to my special spot. With her other hand she fondled my balls. "You know, Sarah," I said, "that a man is very vulnerable when he lets a woman touch his testicles." "I know that," she said, "and I would never hurt these little babies." "Another apt description," I said. "Exactly," she said. "I love to look at your penis. I love to touch it and play with it. I love to see it shoot. I want to be it's best friend. I want to pamper it and please it. I want to kiss it and lick it and suck it." "My god, Sarah, you are amazing." "Darlin' you ain't seen nuthin' yet," she said and then she laughed. She moved between my legs and, leaning down, placed her lips over the tip of my cock and licked it lovingly, caressing the tender tip while she moved her hand up and down masturbating me. Her mouth was warm and welcoming and, from the look in her blue eyes she was enjoying herself. She stopped, looked at me and said, "I've never done this before. How am I doing?" "You're a natural," I said. She smiled and went back to work. She put her other hand on my balls and gave them a gentle squeeze. I reached down and stroked her hair. She looked at me with twinkling eyes and began to lap feverishly at the special spot below the crown. "I'm about to shoot,' I said. She stopped just long enough to say, "Fire away," and continued pleasuring me. A few more licks, a few more strokes and I came in her mouth. She stopped momentarily, seemed to savor the taste of my offering and then swallowed it. She gave me another loving look and then she said, "How was that Dr. Washburn?" "The perfect prescription." The next day, Wednesday, we opened for business. It was slow as was usual for a Wednesday. Shortly after lunch a surrey drove up to the square accompanied by two men rode on horseback. It was Reverend Hobart and two younger men. Reverend Hobart stepped down from the surrey and the two men dismounted and they walked toward us. "Well, well, it's the Baptist militia," I said. Reverend Hobart glared at me, ignoring Sarah and said, "I"ve come to take my wife back home where she belongs." "She's standing right here," I said, "why don't you ask her if she wants to go with you." He shifted his glance to her and said, "Sarah, come with me, now." "I'm not going anywhere," she said. "You are my wife," he said. "Yes," she said, "to my great regret but I'm not your property." "Don't make me use force," he said and the two men with him moved up a step or two to reinforce his statement. They were farmers, not gunslingers and they did not appear to have any weapons but they were big and stern looking and more than a match for Sarah and me. Clyde was off somewhere putting up more posters. "I've sworn and signed a statement for the local Sheriff that I came here of my own accord," Sarah said. "There's no law against a woman leaving her husband." "The laws of God outweigh the laws of man, the Reverend said. "The good book says a wife must cleave to her husband not some Eastern dandy who sells sin and degradation." "If I go back with you I will not be a wife to you," she said defiantly. "You are my lawfully wedded wife, joined to me in the eyes of God and you will obey me," he said. Sarah paused and seemed to think for a moment and then she said, "Alright, let me get my things." She turned and walked back toward our wagon and my heart sank. "Be quick about it," the Reverend said. I was devastated. bewildered and fervently wishing that the Sheriff or Clyde would show up. Sarah came back from the wagon carrying a valise. She stopped beside me, looked squarely at the Reverend and said, "I have something to show you." She reached into her valise and pulled out a revolver which she held firmly in her dainty hand. The gun looked like the one which belonged to Clyde. Reverend Hobart frowned and said, "Put that gun away, Sarah. You won't use it. Murder is a mortal sin." "So is suicide," she said, "and I'd sooner die than go back to Cedar Rapids with you." "Don't be ridiculous," he said and began to walk toward us. Sarah cocked the revolver and said, "If I kill myself the Lord will know that you made me do it and you'll go to hell with me. Frankly, hell would be preferable to living in Cedar Rapids with you." Reverend Hobart's face looked anguished as he looked at her holding the revolver firmly against her temple. "Dear God," he said, "I think you would actually kill yourself. So you can go to hell without me because living with this charlatan is surely a sin." He turned and began to walk toward the surrey. The two men with him hesitated and then followed. Sarah and I watched them go and as Reverend Hobart climbed up into the surrey Sarah called out, "Aren't you forgetting something?" He looked at her quizzically and she said, "The part in the Bible about forgiveness?" He shook his head and drove away with the two men following on horseback. Sarah and I watched them leave. I sighed a huge sign of relief and took the gun from her. "That was a marvelous piece of acting," I said. "I wasn't pretending," she said. I noticed that the handle of the revolver was damp with sweat and said, "You are incredible." "I'm glad you noticed," she said. "I figured he'd back down but I was ready to bet my life on it. I'm glad I was able to make the old bastard stand down." "Score one for the ladies," I said. "Wives one, preachers nothing." The rest of the afternoon was routine. When we retired to the tent to bed down for the night I held Sarah in my arms and said, "After such an eventful day if you'd like to skip sex tonight I'd understand." "On the contrary," she said, "I think some sex would relax us both." "Alright," I said, "we've tried manual stimulation and oral stimulation, how about the real thing?" "Sounds good to me." I smiled and asked, "The missionary position?" She laughed and said, "I've had quite enough talk about religion today. Let's try something else." "Doggy style?" "Never done it, thought about it, love to try it." "Woof woof," I said. We undressed and played with each other for a while to get the blood and juices flowing and then she got on her hands and knees and waved her lovely ass at me. "Come on over, Red Rover, your bitch is in heat," she said. I knelt behind her, took my cock in one hand and stroked it up and down her sopping slit. "Lots of heat," I said. "Put that meat in the heat," she commanded, reaching back and positioning my penis right at the entrance to her pungent pussy. "Give me all of it." I thrust all the way inside of her. She gasped and said, "God that feels good." "I thought we weren't going to talk about religion tonight," I said. "I changed my mind," she said, "tonight I want you to know me in the best biblical sense." "To know you is to love you," I said. She thrust back to me and said "Is that rhetorical or literal?" "Do you want me to love you." " I want you to make up your own mind about that but I could handle the love part," she said. "Right now though I just want you to fuck me." "Seems to me I'm already doing that." "Yes you are and it feels wonderful." "Play with yourself," I said, "if you can. Touch your little buzzy button." She leaned forward, cushioning her head on her forearm and began to rub her buzzy button. I pounded into her as hard as I could and she said, "God that feels wonderful." "There you go with that God talk again." She stroked and I poked and then she said, "Jesus, Mary and Joseph....I'm coming." "So am I!" We came and then we collapsed. Lying close together in a spoon position we discussed the events of the day and talked about the days to come. As we fell asleep I was smiling and I think she was too.