You’ve seen me on the stage, gazoonie – I don’t worry about anything, do I? I can do a big escape stunt, then lay on a bed of nails, and still chat up all the girlies, too. Like I told you, they don’t call me the ‘Clown Prince of Sideshow’ for nothing, you know! I don’t worry about my own safety, right? Why should I worry about anything else? Honestly?
I don’t like to think of myself as someone who worries. Worrying about things doesn’t do any good. Especially if you can’t do anything about whatever it is that’s wrong. It just uses up energy that could be turned to something else. Something more productive, maybe.
Sometimes, though, things start to get to me. Not big things, mind you… just the little ones. Like today, for instance…
After the shows the other night, I slept in a bit, right? Just like most of you do, too. That’s why Charlie says that the carnival is the greatest job in the world for lazy people – we get to sleep in all the time. I mean you and I know that isn’t always true – there are plenty of days we never get to sleep at all! Anyways, my thought was that I’d have a little walk around the lot first thing this morning – especially if it took me over by Delilah’s family camp on the back yard. But I don’t want to look like I’m trying to get her to talk to me, right? I mean – I can’t let the carnies think that I am looking for her to talk to me. After all, I am the ‘Clown Prince of Sideshow’, aren’t I?
Anyway, today, after I got up, I got it into my head that I was going to take a walk around the lot, making sure to take some time in the back yard. Remember what I told you? The back yard is a carny’s home; it’s the living lot, where almost everyone stays. Doesn’t matter if they’re in a tent, or a trailer, or sharing a space in a bunkhouse; it sure beats carrying the banner, which is sleeping in the top because you have no place else to go. And since it is their home, that means I was going to have to walk careful. I mean you had a home once, right greenie? Sure, now you’re in a bunkhouse – but you look like maybe you had some folks who actually had a house they lived in. And back then, you wouldn’t let just anyone go walking through your kitchen, would you? It’s the same thing.
But you never can tell. Sometimes the whole back yard is open to any and everyone, it seems. I don’t know why carnies would suddenly become all hospitable – unless there was something in it for them. Usually, everyone is a lot more open to having guests and meeting up at the beginning of the season, so they can figure out who is who and what is what. Meetings like that are what set the tone for the rest of the season, gazoonie, if you know what I mean.
But later on during the run everyone wants a little more privacy. Day in and day out of being together on the road and in the lot starts putting everyone on edge. Then a beef or three might start up, and before you know it areas of the back yard just ain’t so friendly any more. Still, when you’re as with it as I am, it shouldn’t matter too much where your feet decide to take you as long as you can BC.
So, I set my feet towards taking me for a walk around the lot. I’m doing it nice and easy, taking my time – not making a beeline for her dad’s trailer or anything like that – when I look over and what do I see but a couple of the more familiar faces.
Like I told you, everyone on the lot knows me, so I can go just about anywhere just about any time with no problem. So when I saw Mutt and Jeff, I just told them Al-A-Ga-Zam (remember – the way to say ‘hello’ to the agents that I told you?), figuring they were on their way to the cook shack from their beds, and went on my way. And next thing I know, they’re standing in my way, wanting to chat.
‘Hey there, Tony,’ said Mutt. ‘What are you doing?’ Jeff just nodded – he tends not to talk much.
‘Just on a little walkabout,’ I replied, nonchalant-like. ‘Seeing the sights. You know.’
‘We was just talking as we was heading over to the cook shack,’ Mutt continued, his tongue licking over the couple of teeth which appears to be all he has left, ‘and we was thinking you might be able to help us out.’
Now, normally I’m quick to help anyone out who comes to me for information. Today, though, I have a mission on my mind and don’t want to get distracted by anything else. I went to step around the two of them with a quick, ‘Sorry. Busy.’ But before I got too far, Jeff was right in front of me, and Mutt’s hand was on my arm.
‘No, no,’ Mutt said to me. ‘We won’t take no for an answer!’
His hand on my arm was pretty friendly-like, but I could feel his strength behind it. And Jeff didn’t have a tent stake in his hand, but he definitely seemed intent on keeping me from going my own way.
Look, greenie, I’m not saying I was afraid. I mean, you know me, I’m not afraid of anyone or anything. But these guys are carnies of the old school through and through – and I knew that if I gave them too much trouble, they might just take a poke at me just to show me who’s boss. So I let myself be led off, with the two of them glancing over their shoulders several times, as we headed in the direction of the cook shack.
Did they have questions for me? Yeah, I suppose… I mean, they bought me some coffee and picked my brain about turning a tip, my escape stunts and… hmmm. I guess a little bit about this new guy Frank, who’s on the payroll now. I guess, thinking about it, I don’t know if they were trying to keep me from something in the back yard, or if they really wanted to know about this guy.
So, while I was mad at having been pulled away from seeing Delilah, it led me to something else.
Remember how I told you Charlie hasn’t been around much since Frank has been working the top? Well, you can imagine my surprise when I finally pulled myself away from the cook shack and headed back to our joint. As I was walking up, I could hear voices talking inside – not real loud, mind you – but raised up like they were trying to keep it quiet so no one could overhear, even though they were mad. So I snuck up to the laces, you know, around the edge where the sides of the top lace up together, and stuck my ear up to it to listen in.
It was Charlie and Frank having a beef. And, I mean, really getting into it. I don’t know what started the whole thing, but by the time I got up to it, this is what I heard:
First thing I hear Charlie say is, ‘Just who do you think you are? No one is going to go for that!’
Then Frank came back with, ‘Oh, I think they will. If you didn’t think so, then they’d all know, wouldn’t they?’
‘Doesn’t matter what they know,’ Charlie told him. ‘Or what someone thinks they know.’
Frank started to answer, ‘Yeah, you can say…’
But Charlie interrupted him, saying, ‘Things are a lot different now than they used to be. And don’t you think for a moment that I’m going to let you say a damn thing to Tony! You just stay away from him! He knows all he needs to know.’
And Frank, he said, ‘That boy don’t know much of anything, does he? Or you would’ve spoke up when you saw me on the lot that day. But you’d had a few, hadn’t you Charlie? Yeah, you had all right. I’ve seen it before and I know just what happens when you do that, don’t I?’
I couldn’t see the look on my pops’ face at that point; but I had a pretty good idea what his face looked like right then. Like a bad dog caught piddling on the rug or something. I’ve seen him with that look plenty of times. I closed my eyes, trying to picture the inside of the top, imagining the two of them facing off on the little stage.
Now Charlie ain’t no slouch, mind you – but the years of running the show rather than setting it up have left him a little soft. My pops stood a good few inches taller than this guy, Frank. But Frank carries himself in that wiry kind of way that only a carny in his prime seems to have. Tight, corded muscles used to lifting rope, his arms ending in the big worn and beaten hands that come from heaving the big pipes, stakes and sledgehammers. A dark look on his permanently sunburned face makes his bright blue eyes burn with an empty flame. Broken nose. A few tattoos. Just looking at Frank made me think of what someone who spent his whole life with bar fights and hard living should look like. Next to him, Charlie looks kind of like a desk-jockeying marshmallow.
I was surprised then that I could hear Charlie muttering something to Frank under his breath then… something dark, mean and ugly. I don’t know what he was saying, but the hair on the back of my neck stood up just to hear the sounds coming from him. Never, ever have I heard my pops talk to anyone like that. Not even at his angriest.
And I guess Frank wasn’t used to being talked to like that either, because by the time I heard Frank answer, his voice wasn’t filled with the bravado it had had before. There was something else in it. Fear? Maybe. Respect? Definitely. I heard him answer my pops, saying, ‘I’ll do what I promised you I would. You keep up your end of our bargain, and I’ll keep up mine.’
They may have said more, but I snuck away then.
I don’t know what they were talking about, either, greenie. It just made me think that maybe there’s more to this guy Frank than I’d thought. Will you keep an eye on him, for me? I mean, I would do it, but I still have something I need to do.
Well, sure, I’m still going to go over to see Delilah! But I’ll do it tonight, after the show. Didn’t forget that we’re doing the grind, did you? There are marks who are begging to be separated from their money, son! But I’ll meet back up with you later.
Psst! Greenie!! Yeah, you. Over here!
Get down. Down! Look, just keep it quiet for a moment, all right? Staying behind this trailer may not be the most comfortable thing in the world, but it’s what we’re going to do for the moment.
What happened? How do you know anything happened?
OK, OK. Yes. Something happened. But keep your trap shut and I’ll tell you about it. Quietly… OK?
I did what I told you I was going to do. I took a walk over to Delilah’s trailer. This time, I thought I’d avoid getting stopped by anyone, by reading the midway while I walked along. You know, ‘read the midway’ – I walked with my head down, looking for change and anything else the chumps might have dropped on their way out of the carnival.
But when I got near the entrance to the back yard, what do you think I see? Mutt and Jeff, who were hanging around the gate. Almost like they were waiting for me. I kept an eye on them though, as soon as I saw them, because I had no desire to get distracted again. So I kept my head down and headed around through the back way.
So I figured, as I’m used to heights and climbing and things, that I’d scale over the fence using the Light Plant – that’s the big truck with the generators on it – to get myself through. Now, it probably meant that I would have to walk back out of the gate past Mutt and Jeff, but I figured I’d be OK at that point.
It was easy enough to get over to where I wanted to go – to Delilah’s trailer. But when I got there, gazoonie… Well, when I got there, not all of the lights were off. So I was listening outside quietly, beneath the lit-up window that used to be her window – just to make sure it was still hers right? I hear voices – not just her voice, right? But a couple of voices – and it sounds like her and her father talking really quickly and urgently. Then I feel the whole trailer shift – like someone threw themselves into the side of it. And then more noises from inside. It was like things were being thrown around. Like someone was getting slapped or hit. I could hear loud voices, but couldn’t tell what they were saying. And then it sounded like crying.
I froze. I completely froze. I didn’t know what to do. Should I get help? Or try to get in?
Just then, I heard a yell behind me. I turned around and saw what looked like Mutt or Jeff – one of the carnies, anyway, it wasn’t a townie – running towards me and yelling. Well, a noise like that would wake up the whole lot, and… Well I just ran, greenie. I ran as quick as I could, not paying attention to where I was going.
Within a few moments I’d put some good distance between me and Delilah’s trailer, and I started thinking I should turn around and tell whoever it was chasing me, who it was they were after. I mean, maybe they thought I was just some townie pervert sneaking around the trailers, being a peeping tom or something. I know I shouldn’t have run – but I did.
When I turned around, though, there wasn’t anybody there. I guess I’d lost them as I ran through the lot. I was hoping that whoever it was who’d chased me off had heard what was going on in Delilah’s trailer, and maybe put a stop to it. But, if I went back to check, I’d have to answer why I was out there, right? That’s what made me stop and think. That’s what made me head back here instead of going back.
What would you have done?