The Sleepwalkers by Paul Grossman Read Free Book Online Page B

No offense, gentlemen. I just happen to like girls.
    “Now, ladies, as I walk through the audience, I’m going to ask you all to raise your skirts—nothing indecent, only to the knees. My job, I confess, was easier a few years ago when we had short skirts. But these days I must ask you all to lift your skirts, ladies, back to where they were in 1929, lift them so that I may note their shape and character. That’s right. Thank you. Thank you all so very much.”
    Willi found it astonishing that not a single woman failed to obey this command, but almost in unison they hiked their skirts to the delight of their male companions.
    “It’s not merely that I like looking at women’s legs, which I do. But it’s a little known fact,
meine Damen und Herren,
that there are nine basic types of women’s legs, and that they can say as much about a woman’s character as her face or her palm. Now, for example, this lovely lady here has what are called Champagne Bottle legs, not merely because they are expensive and delicious, which I’m sure they are, but because of their shape, with thin, delicate ankles and firm, fulsome calves. The knee is never bony but rounded, spherical. This tells me she is soft and affectionate, motherly. That she has many friends and a warm, loving home. Am I right?”
    “Yes, yes, you are!”
    “Do you agree?” he asked the man next to her.
    “Yes, quite.”
    “Then you’re a lucky man. Unfortunately women with Champagne Bottle legs do not make the best subjects for our experiments. No, I am looking for what are called Baby Doll legs, where the ankle tapers imperceptibly to the calf, delicately complementing the knee, because a woman with Baby Doll legs possesses an acute sense of trust and curiosity. Or I am looking for the Classic legs, which indicate a woman who is both intuitive and imaginative. Or best of all, Ideal legs. You may wish you had these, ladies. But only one in a thousand women does. The Ideal leg, like anything wonderful and perfect, indicates a strong, vital life force. Passion!”
    Willi couldn’t help but picture the Mermaid’s monstrously mangled legs. Or that photo of the Bulgarian princess, with her husband bowing to her. Could she have had Baby Doll legs? Or Classic? Something about this Gustave seemed more hellish than just his nightclub act. He was assessing not merely the legs, but the faces of these women, their postures, their clothing. Selecting the exact subject he wanted. Or am I just being paranoid? Willi wondered. Feeling natural resistance to a force of obvious power? Because this Gustave had his game perfected all right. He was choosing only the sexiest ladies to participate in his hypnotic high jinks.
    When the six loveliest women in the room were seated on stage in a semicircle, the lights went back down on the rest of the crowd.
    “Ladies . . . ,” the voice boomed. “I want you to keep your eyes fixed directly on mine. As I talk, they will begin to feel tired. Very tired. You will find yourself wanting to relax. A feeling of pleasant tiredness and drowsiness overcoming you . . . you feel fine . . . you feel relaxed . . . close your eyes and in a few minutes you will fall into a pleasant, gentle sleep.”
    His voice was so deliberately low and monotonous, even somepeople not onstage could be seen with their heads nodding over.
    “
Meine Damen und Herren,
the ladies now are in a light hypnotic trance. There is nothing magical about it. They are aware of everything that’s going on. Right, girls?”
    All the women nodded. Gustave tapped a pretty brunette on the shoulder. “Sweetheart, what is your name?”
    “Hannah Lore,” she said with her eyes still closed.
    “Hannah Lore, how do you feel?”
    “Lovely. Just lovely.”
    “I shall now take them into a deep trance.
    “You are comfortable now. Completely comfortable. Your whole body is relaxed. You have no feeling of tension. You are drifting asleep. A deep, deep, delightful sleep. I’m