See You on the Backlot Read online

  I was pretty steamed, let me tell you. Then, of course, Charlie was in no shape to drive and Murphy was just worn out. And so was I. Finally, we just had to pull over, so that Murphy and I could sleep some. That’s what made us late getting to the lot here. We finally got here, long after everyone else, and I could tell Big Mike was mad because our stake wasn’t in a prime spot.

  Don’t worry, gazoonie, it wasn’t your fault – in fact, if you hadn’t been here when you were I’ll bet we would be in an even worse place! But you could see how mad Big Mike was, right? When I saw him he was checking his watch and giving Charlie his mad dog stare. You know he was worried as to whether or not we’d be set up in time for the carnival to open. A day we’re not open is a day we may not be able to pay him. Besides, we’re the biggest attraction on the midway, and if we’re not open – who knows? Maybe word gets out and the whole thing doesn’t do good business. No one wants that, right? So that’s when Charlie started barking orders at everyone and being all bossy (as if he knew what was supposed to be going on), trying to put on a good show for Big Mike. Once again, I keep finding someone doing something they’re not supposed to because ‘Charlie told me to’.

  Then it happened. I’m not sure exactly where it went wrong; whether it wasn’t marked right or they were just hurrying and not paying attention to what they were doing, but one of the canvas men was driving in stakes for the top when – BAM! The metal stake hits an electric cable running the genny, just underneath the dirt.

  You could smell it before you even heard anything happen, you know? Electricity… Ozone… Burnt hair…

  I don’t think he screamed or anything. I tell you, I’m not even sure what happened, not completely. Only that there was yelling and running and those smells in the air. I heard some screams, but they just sounded like some of the girls from one of the other shows. Luckily none of the townies were on the lot at that point. But I ran with the rest of them.

  Big Mike was there before I got there. I don’t know how he managed it. He wasn’t saying anything, just wiping his forehead with the big handkerchief he carries in his overalls. It was strange to see him listening intently to Charlie, when he usually just rolls his eyes when he sees him. Then Big Mike hurried off, yelling orders to a few of the carnies, sending them out to the road to wait for the ambulance.

  Charlie was on his knees next to Sam, one of our canvas men. Our performers stay the same from season to season, but canvas men tend to come and go as often as the lots. Sam was a good guy, though. A straight shooter, right? He drank a bit and kept Charlie in good company. He tended to be in the G-Top a lot, too, but he was a good guy. He was talking to Charlie, though. And Charlie was listening to him, talking back to him a bit. I went to step in closer, to find out how he was doing, but Murphy waved me back.

  The ambulance arrived. It was all sirens and flashing lights, bringing attention to what had gone wrong. I was embarrassed by it. Now the other carnies would know that one of our guys was down and that it was serious. They all know how Charlie gets when he’s had a few and would probably blame us if there were low crowds. And then there were crowds all around us. More people than just carnival workers standing around. Which means townies. Which means another reason for them to look down on us and hate what we do.

  I don’t know what happened, next. Murphy was telling me to calm down, and Charlie was asking – no, demanding – to know what I was going on about. And I was yelling at him about how we were now a man short and what were we going to do, when someone new broke out of the crowd and came over to the three of us, yelling at each other in the dirt.

  ‘My name’s Frank,’ he said. He might have been talking to Charlie or Murphy, but he was looking at me pretty off. Maybe he couldn’t figure out exactly why I was involved in this whole thing. So I jumped in quick to tell him the deal, you know?

  I was like, ‘What do you want, Townie?’ before either Charlie or Murphy could say anything. This guy looks at me funny for just a moment, and then I guess he got the score because he starts talking right to me, ignoring the others.

  ‘I may look like a townie,’ he said, pretty calm-like, ‘but I know the score. You’re down a man. I need work.’

  I gave him the once-over and then just let it fly. ‘There’s no room for freeloaders here. You work for us you’re gonna work pretty hard.’

  ‘Now hold on just a moment,’ Murphy started in, but Charlie jumped on him pretty quick.

  ‘You think you can run this show?’ Charlie asked me, all demanding. But I didn’t back down on this one, oh no! I came right back at him.

  ‘I’ve been doing a fine job of it so far,’ I told him. Charlie doesn’t get mad or anything, but he starts kind of laughing, which scares me a little bit. Then he looks at this guy, Frank, and I can tell he doesn’t like him – which just makes me want to stick it to Charlie more.

  ‘Fine, then,’ Charlie says, kinda quiet-like. ‘You’ll get what you got coming.’ Murphy looked mad enough to eat tacks, but he just spat on the ground and the two of them walked away pretty stiffly. I turned back to this guy, Frank.

  ‘Looks like you’re hired then,’ I told him, all business-like. This guy, he doesn’t smile or look grateful or anything. He just reaches out his hand and we shake on it, pretty sombre. As soon as I grabbed his hand, though, there was something about him I didn’t like. Can’t tell you what it was specifically, greenie. Something about the way he smelled, maybe. That mix of alcohol and cigarettes that, for some reason, always makes me feel sick. But when I tell this guy what I want him to do, he gets right on to it – so I decided to let it go.

  It’s not until later, when the local doctor comes by to tell us that Sam will be OK in a few weeks or so, that I realise Charlie has gone – probably off drinking. Actually, I don’t think we’ll be seeing Sam again, greenie. Probably too close a call for him. If this guy, Frank, turns out as good as you, well… It will be just what we need!

  CHAPTER 4

  You know what I like, gazoonie? Sitting around before the carnival opens. You know what I mean? Just sitting around and being calm. Like we are right now. Especially when you’re an early-riser like myself. It’s quiet on the lot. No one else is around doing much of anything. Those feel like the best times. Almost as good as the quiet of being on the road during a jump, you know? When there is nothing to do but drive from one lot to the next.

  One time, when me and Pops were on the road making a jump, we stopped at one of those little flea-trap motels he likes for me to pick out – somewhere way off the main roads. He and I watched this old film about a circus. I didn’t really like it very much. There was something about a high-wire act that went wrong and a clown who was really a doctor on the run from the law… and I hated the special effects, too. They were real cheesy. Especially where the train hit the car across its tracks. Mostly I hated that they tried to make out this clown to be some kind of hero or something.

  But Charlie, I guess he liked it a whole bunch. He kept sitting there and laughing to himself through the whole thing. I suppose he was laughing about the clown or something, I don’t know… Everyone knows that clowns can’t be heroes.

  You think I’m wrong? How many clowns have you met? I’m not talking about the fake ones who do children’s parties and that kind of nonsense. Most of them aren’t the real thing – they’re just forty-milers (if that) and townies who wish they were more than they are. No. All the real clowns I’ve ever met were some of the meanest, drunkest sons o’ bitches imaginable. Just as soon throw you off the train as share a car with you. Won’t let a debt go, but will happily welch on any money they owe. I, personally, am not a fan of them.

  Pops, he has some funny ideas about clowns and circus folks. He’s always talking about our family’s history with the circus and the sideshow. He’s always telling me how we’re the descendants of some famous clown. Mostly, it just feels like he’s talking out his… I guess I just don’t get his obsession with the circus. Why would he want to be a part of
that nonsense? I just think people at the circus look down on us carnies. Hardly any of them even put up a top any more! They’d rather set themselves up in an arena or some big building somewhere so they don’t have to worry about it. The ones who are worth anything still put up a top – and there are only about three of them in the world, if you don’t count that bunch of sissies from Canada, traipsing around in tights like a bunch of hoofers.

  One time Charlie took me to see a small show – they were set up in the parking lot of an abandoned mall. They were the closest thing I’ve ever seen to a circus being with it. They had a single ring, lots of animals, high-wire acts and some dangerous stunts… and they dinged the rubes between every act! About halfway through, I went to get some popcorn at the concession stand – and I’ll tell you what – the girl who sold it to me had just been up in the rigging doing a trapeze act a few minutes before. That is what I am talking about! Someone who is with it, who works hard and understands the life we have.

  Me? I like my life here with the carnival, running this show – well, helping Charlie manage it. I don’t know what he’d do without me at all. But bringing in you and this guy Frank, plus having Murphy and our performers, that’s going to make a difference, I think. I hope.

  Murphy and me, we used to have lots of talks about the show and what kinds of things we could do. Especially back when Charlie was teaching me stunts and things to do for the shows he was planning – now, those were the days! Anyways, Murphy spent a lot of time talking to me and Charlie about what the old shows used to do – and let me tell you, gazoonie, they did some amazing things! Of course, back in the day, they used to do a lot more than we do now. I mean, Murphy was telling me some of the big shows had fifty people or more there to work the whole thing. There were canvas men whose only job was to make sure the top got up, and guys to work the lights and sound – and that’s before you even added the performers, stage managers and other stuff. Can you imagine?

  Murphy told me that some of the shows, well they used to be reviews, off the big stages from London and New York, and that they’d package them up into something that could travel more easily. Sometimes I think about what it would have been like to be running a show back then. From what Murphy tells me, they would even supply you with everything you needed if you brought them a show: a top, banner line, all the lights and sound – everything! You’d just bring the performers and acts, maybe some of the crew and such – and they’d pay you out proper and you could take whatever you could get from the inside. No one made you account for any of it. That’s what I dream about sometimes. How I’d bring in Delilah to help me out, and I’d get me my own show – and Charlie could go off and do whatever he wants.

  No. No, I haven’t really talked to her since we got here. OK – I haven’t talked to her at all. But, sure she’s my girl! I told you, didn’t I? She just has some other things on her mind is all. What with her momma passing away during the off-season… and I don’t think her family’s show is doing that well either. Now, you didn’t hear it from me, but some of the other carnies have been telling me to stay away from her – just to leave her alone. I imagine it’s that, with her momma’s passing and their show having problems, they figure that I’m just hassling her or something. Doesn’t surprise me, none, I’ll tell you that. In a way it pleases me. See, we look out for each other on the lot.

  A single-o is a show that just has one attraction. One thing that you’re paying to see, and it’s usually something pretty stationary. You’re not seeing a show like that with us. There’s no bally out front or anything, except maybe a grind tape that lures you up to the monkey box to pay your money to get in. Then you walk in, take a look at it, and walk back out. Pretty simple, huh? Thing is, for a single-o to really make money and attract a crowd, it has to be something live. You can’t use bouncers or gaffs (I’ll tell you a bit more about them in a minute) – not even pickled punks, because that stuff won’t keep a mark’s attention. Pickled punks are what we call deformed babies in jars – they used to be pretty common until the do-gooders made it too tough to put them on display. After laws about displaying real babies went into effect in lots of places, most of the showmen started making babies out of plaster and rubber (which is why they’re called bouncers) and using those, instead. Thing is gaffs like that often look better than the real thing! Gaffs are anything fake – but for most showmen that means they faked something using taxidermy, or sometimes a bigger trick. No, for a single-o, it has to be something alive, like a live ‘mermaid’ in a pool or headless woman trick. Sure, those might still be a gaff in a way – but they’re more of an illusion – and you have to have someone alive there to really make it work under the top. It’s that or, even better, a real mutant animal like Delilah’s family’s show. They have a six-legged cow!

  Yeah, yeah – I know. But it’s true! I’ve seen her (the cow, I mean). She’s real, all right, but dumb. I suppose all cows are dumb – but this one is really stupid. It’s a great show, though. It really brings the crowds in, especially in the cities (I guess the farmers feel they see enough of that kind of thing), but… it’s a cow. It has to be taken care of. It needs food and water and to be walked. You have to clean up after animals. That’s why Charlie won’t have anything to do with any kind of live animal show. Can’t say I blame him – I don’t want to clean up after animals either.

  That and the fact that every time some do-gooder gets it in their head the carnies are abusing their animals, seems like everyone comes running in to try to shut the whole show down. If only they knew – these animals get treated better than most of the people working here!

  Anyway, I tried to get a few moments alone with Delilah before the last jump, but it didn’t happen. Then I keep wandering by her joint to get her attention, but she hasn’t seen me yet. Probably because her dad’s been keeping an eye on everything she’s been up to lately. Don’t know why. Maybe he thinks she’s not doing her job and that’s why the numbers are low for their show. Maybe if he worked the ticket box a bit more and didn’t spend so much time worrying about what she’s doing, it would be OK.

  Delilah’s family has had a show on this circuit for a couple of seasons. What I’m telling you is, this ain’t no seasonal fling, son! Why, Delilah and I used to be pretty tight before her dad put her to work on their show this time around. Guess he didn’t feel she was really old enough for the responsibility of taking the money before. Now, I’ve noticed that their show has gotten a few more chumps hanging around it since she came to sit in the chair. Her momma used to, you know… sit in the chair and take tickets, I mean, but she passed on sometime between the end of last season and the beginning of this one. I guess that’s the other reason her dad is keeping her close at hand, too.

  I don’t know what they do in the off-season – and I’m not sure what happened to her momma, either. I guess I keep hoping she’ll tell me about it.

  After a bit, I’ll shove on over there and see if I can’t get her attention. Before I do that, though, I need to do my walk-through of the top and make sure everything is OK. Not that I think anything is wrong, mind you, I’m sure everyone did exactly what they were supposed to do. But, when someone new, like Frank, is on the payroll, I like to keep a close eye on what he’s doing. Especially after Sam’s accident.

  But he sure seems to know his stuff, does Frank. He didn’t waste any time getting the top up and the banner line going. It’s almost like he’s done it before – like he’s ‘with it’, you know? I guess it doesn’t matter because the bigger thing is that as soon as Frank was on deck, Charlie was nowhere to be found.

  Sure, I heard some grumbling from some of the others, especially Murphy – but I’m not too worried about it. Honestly, I’m more worried about trying to get some time with Delilah. So, if this guy Frank can help to make sure things get done the way they are supposed to pretty quickly – and I can get some time with my girl – that’s what I’m going to do.

  CHAPTER 5

  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.