"They've paid?" Her voice wavered between Brooklyn and yiddle Europe.

"Not yet," said Shshtar

"Right. First we negotiate. Then I teach you to juggle. Carlo: the oranges!" Kali screeched to the wings. She turned to look at her audience and mimed surprise. Then with Georgia mint-julipped southern flare she said, "Why Christopher and Noname Khan, I do declare. And how are you, Chris Pasha?"

"It's the gypsy," gasped Chris.

"What you are say? I am Kali, womb of the world, seventh and sex wonder."

"You, you, "Chris stumbled, "you ripped me off outside Algeciras. Every stitch, including my pride."

The gypsy laughed for two or three minutes. She had great trouble stopping. Tears rolled down her face. "Cue me again," she said.

"He said," Carlo prompted from the wings, "he said you ripped him off"."

"Yes... Continue."

"Of everything, including his pride."

"Then he owes us the favour... Kali has been known to eat her children. This time, honey, we make only the theatricals, the little drama. We pick what is des pickable. What is impickable you keep. You have your life and your knife."

"My bike!" growled Chris through clenched teeth.

"Come," said the pink Blue Lady. "I’m going to teach you to juggle. Carlo!" she cried to the side. "Bring de oranges!"

"I am come too to Noname's Circus," said Hadji.

Chris and Hadji Berber climbed onto the stage.