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Pulp Fiction, 1955 · page 89 of 148

Argosy (UK), January 1955 — page 89: what you’re looking at

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Argosy (UK), January 1955 — page 89: Pulp Fiction, 1955

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ee a = e r , - ~ - . rT & ie = a ~ — > J =i + > = ‘4 aa a “¥ . ‘ ra * LOVE OF SEVEN DOLLS 87 : gossip outside the baker’s cottage, and for a moment Mouche smelt the fresh bread and crisp rolls. She was in church again _.___and heard the rustle of starched head-dresses and the sigh of the Zo Organ... i Something, or someone cried out of the darkness: ‘“‘ Hullo there, 3 you. with the suitcase! Where are you going and what’s your : hurry?” , 3 Mouche paused, startled and bewildered, for the shrill little voice was obviously directed at her, but she could not make out ; whence it came. The impudence of the query angered her for it Sad had the effect of returning her to a world she had in effect already departed. The next words reaching her out of the darkness 3 startled her even more. : «‘“ It’s cold at the bottom of the river, little one, and the eels and : the crayfish eat your flesh.” 2 This was magic, and Mouche had all the Breton superstition and . belief in the supernatural. Fearfully she gazed about her for the oe source of the voice that could guess her secret. 3 By the wavering light of a gasolene flare she saw only an empty puppet booth with an oilcloth sign across the top announcing, CAPITAINE COQ ET SA FAMILLE. Nearby, on one side, a dirty-looking gipsy fortune-teller was quarrelling with her husband over the small pickings while they occupied themselves with dismantling their tent. On the other, two men were engaged in loading a strength-testing machine onto a small truck. No one appeared to be aware of the presence of the girl. The insistent, piping voice attacked her again: ‘‘,What’s the big tragedy? Your boy-friend give you the air? ‘There’s plenty more fish in the sea.” Peering through the smoky haze, Mouche now saw that the puppet booth was not entirely deserted as she had first thought. A doll was perched on the counter, or at any rate, half a doll, for no legs were visible, a boy with red hair, bulb nose, and pointed ears. He was regarding her with impertinent, painted eyes and a curi- ously troubled expression on his countenance. In the shifting yel- low flicker of the gasolene flare he seemed to be beckoning to her. “Well?” he said. ‘“‘ Cat got your tongue? Speak up when you’re spoken to.” In her first alarm, Mouche had set down her valise. Now she picked it up and walked slowly closer to the booth to examine this astonishing little creature. Still feeling strangely indignant at being thus unceremoniously accosted, to her surprise she heard herself reply: ‘‘ Really, what makes you think it is any of your concern? ”’ The puppet looked her carefully up and down. “ Oh,” he said, * out of a job, down at heel, and huffy too. I was only trying to be polite and pass the time.” ““ By speaking to strangers to whom you have not been intro- duced?’”’ Mouche chided. ‘‘ And getting personal, too. How would you like it if J]... ?” She paused, realizing for the first conmicloooks.comn)