See You on the Backlot Read online

  ‘You may have seen some bursts of flame,’ I go on, ‘but that is nothing compared to how hot it will get inside. You see this girl?’ I ask them, pointing out Bettie the contortionist, who gives a little twist. After all, I might be able to interest the ladies, but I need to give the guys a reason to want to come into the show! ‘Well she can do things so amazing, that the sheriff made us bring in a doctor to verify she wouldn’t be hurt while on our stage. He doesn’t know how she does it – he just knows that she can! And take a look at this gentleman making his way to the stage right now!’ I point out Travis to them, continuing, ‘Some people will tell you it’s the normal ones you have to look out for – come in closer, friends; we need to make some room in the back there – and this young man is no exception. Take a look at his particular skill: the ability to swallow twenty-six inches of solid steel and remain unhurt!’ And while Travis swallows the sword, I continue, ‘Now you may think this is something, but it’s nothing compared with what he’ll do on the inside folks. Trust me. This young man – well a neon tube and a sense of daring will make him do the unthinkable. You will see the light all the way down to his insides! Buy your ticket now!’

  Of course, greenie, you know that’s your cue to go to the monkey box – the ticket booth – and act like you’re buying a ticket. There always has to be someone who starts the rush! Of course, you’ve been there nights when I’m so on that there are rubes lining up long before you get the chance to kick it off… But it never hurts for you to be there for the moment things start to slow down. Charlie, when he does it, he likes to offer discounts like, ‘everyone for a child’s ticket’ kind of stuff. I hate that. I think if we do it right, then we don’t need to do that stuff.

  So once the chumps make it under the top, they see all the acts, right? Wait a minute! You’ve never seen the show, have you, gazoonie? We always have you so busy running around you never get to! Well, it goes like this:

  First, Murphy rolls a box into the centre of the pit and starts his talking, while Bettie unfolds herself out of it. Then she rolls the box back off just in time for Jerry, all dressed up like a cowboy, to come in and crack his whip a few times. That always makes people jump! Then, usually, we’re at a point where I can leave the bally and do a straightjacket escape or something. As soon as that is done, I head out to start the next bally and Abdul comes on with his fakir stunts. He might stick skewers through his biceps or chin – all without bleeding. Or he might swallow a piece of string, then cut into his own belly and pull the string out! Murphy usually does a quick magic trick before bringing out the blade box for Bettie. Yeah, you know all about that one, don’t you?

  After that, Jerry does some knife-throwing, using Sharon as his target girl, then Travis does his full sword-swallowing act. After that we’re in the push to get in the last three acts, so depending on the bally, either me, Travis or Abdul does the bed of nails, then there’s another act before hitting the fire-breathing finale. And, of course, while the audience is recovering from that, Murphy launches into the crack to send them over the edge to see the blow-off – our half-and-half.

  So that’s ten acts in about thirty minutes. When not on stage, the performers are on the bally stage building the tip to turn into the joint. Of course, the audience can come in whenever they want, and leave whenever they want – but between the push for the blade box and the blow-off, we expect that they’ll leave when they start seeing the same acts over again. That’s why there are no seats or anything in the top. We don’t want them to get comfortable – we want them to pay to get in, ding them while they’re inside, then get them back out from under the canvas so someone else can pay to get in.

  Like clockwork, right? I mean, you’ve seen us work, haven’t you, greenie? Like a well-oiled machine practically… So what happened to me? Well – as near as I can figure – it was something like this:

  Since Jerry had dragged Charlie off, I’d been turning the tip pretty regular-like. They were coming in fast enough that Murphy and everyone seemed on their top game. I mean, they didn’t all seem too happy, but I figured it was because I was really making them work for a change. Anyway, just as I suspected, Charlie was really slow in coming back from our ‘emergency’. Who knows – maybe something really was wrong with the blow-off.

  We’d done maybe two or three full shows when it happened. Don’t tell anyone, gilly, but I was not as on top of things as I should’ve been. Guess I was worried about Delilah. Not paying attention to what you’re doing, especially when it’s as dangerous as what I do, can get you hurt.

  Anyways, to make a long story even longer, it was the third or fourth show, and I’m all wound up to do the huge fire act. I might do a couple of small bursts on the bally stage, but on the inside I really let it go with my ‘fountain of flame’ act. See, what I do is fill my mouth full of the fuel, and then, using two torches, I start spitting it out in a fine mist. Once that mist catches fire from the lit torches, I pull them away – letting the fuel continue to catch fire as I spit it out until it’s all gone.

  It’s a risky act, and Charlie doesn’t like me doing it. Never mind that he is the one who taught me how to do it! But part of our deal with me doing it is that he is the one to pre-measure all the fuel out for the bursts. Too much fuel means too much flame. It could catch the top on fire or worse, some dumb townie could light up! That would be really bad. So Charlie tends to be really careful with it.

  Of course, I know my da and what he tends to do, so I usually double-check everything. I thought I had, too, but I guess I was distracted – like I told you.

  As soon as I put the fuel in my mouth, I knew I was in trouble. There was too much, and it didn’t taste right. Like it was a weird mix of gasoline, kerosene and who knows what else, all dumped in there together. I guess I should have spit it out right then, but it was the high point of the show, and I just wanted to – I don’t know – get back out on the bally, I guess. Turn the next tip. See if I could see Delilah from the bally stage… It doesn’t matter now, I guess.

  As I started to spit, the fuel caught, way too quickly, burning its way up the stream to my face! I turned my face and moved the torches away, but it was too late. I felt the flame licking over my face. I smelled burning hair. And I guess I panicked a bit too, because I don’t remember much else except struggling to get the fire off me.

  Trying to get the fuel out of my mouth, I guess I must have spit it out onto my clothes, because my pants leg caught fire as well. Luckily, I knew enough to keep my eyes closed, and to drop to the ground and roll around. Good thing this wasn’t the wooden stage we use sometimes! Since we set up this top with a pit, there was a coating of sand on the ground, and that helped.

  All I heard was yelling and people running around. I guess it was the crowd leaving while the performers gathered around me. Murphy was the first one to get to me, and then I could hear Charlie next to me. He was yelling orders to other people and calling to me. He sounded almost crazy. Can you believe that? My own pops yelling at me for catching on fire?

  It took a while for things to calm down enough. Charlie still hasn’t really talked to me since then. Murphy told me Big Mike sprung for the fancy doctor they sent in. Thank goodness they didn’t send an ambulance or anything. Murphy also told me to take it easy for a few days. But he wouldn’t say anything else. None of the people from the show have come to talk to me but you, greenie. Guess they’re all pretty sore that I messed up.

  But I’ll be back. You’ll see.

  CHAPTER 7

  So you found me, eh?

  Well, you’re here. Might as well sit down and make yourself comfortable. On top of the Light Plant isn’t the most comfortable place to be hiding – but it sure beats hiding under one of the rigs. That’s the thing about carnies – most of them never look up.

  But you knew where to find me, didn’t you, gilly? Maybe you’re not such a gazoonie after all…

  No, no. I’ll come down in a bit. ‘Turn myself in’, or whatever it is they w
ant to call it. I know most of the lot doesn’t know why I did what I did. But you do, don’t you, greenie? Do me a favour though, will you? Don’t tell anyone. I won’t have anyone thinking less of Delilah, or looking at me with any kind of sympathy, like they would some punk. It’s bad enough I end up hobbling around this lot the past week. Can’t do a show. Can’t bring in any money. Doctor coming around and bothering me when all I really need to do is get back on the boards.

  No – I did what I had to do, and I’m not sorry for it. Not even a little bit.

  Ever since the accident it just hasn’t been that easy. You know, Murphy has been taking care of me quite a bit. Charlie hasn’t done much more than stick his head in my bunk every once in a while to look at me. He’s hardly even said much more than to ask how I was doing. I can hear him and Murphy talking quietly in the main room of the trailer sometimes. Then I hear him leaving, and Murphy sticks in his head to say, ‘Hey, kid. How you holding up?’

  One night – pretty late, because there wasn’t a peep from the shows or carnival – I heard something in my room. Guess I wasn’t too fast asleep or anything, because I didn’t jump up. Just opened my eyes a little bit to peek through and see what it was. Charlie was in my room, leaning against the doorway from our trailer’s main room. He didn’t say anything, or try to wake me up. I just lay there looking at him for – oh, I don’t know… it seemed like forever. I started wondering if he was wishing I wasn’t along on this show.

  Then I watched him take a deep draw from the bottle he had in his hand, before he turned around and shuffled out. Quiet as death he was, coming in and out of my room in the pitch black. I was lying there kind of scared, wondering what he might do – and thinking about how many times he might have snuck into my room to stand and watch me with that look on his face.

  It’s been years since Charlie laid a hand on me – did you know that, greenie? It was one of the first times he started on the bottle, right after I lost my mum. He went on a tear – there seemed to be empty bottles and cans as far as the eye could see – and he was throwing things, yelling, cursing. I was pretty scared at the time. I had run up to him to try to put the brakes on him and he just… Well, I’m not really sure what happened after that, actually. He sort of grabbed, twisted and threw me all at the same time. We were on a cart or something high up, and I went flying off it onto the ground. I don’t remember much after that, but suddenly Murphy had me in his arms, and my da, he was yelling and crying and trying to get to me. But Murphy wouldn’t let him.

  I haven’t thought about it in a while. Almost like I can’t remember it – but that’s what happened. I don’t remember seeing Charlie drink much after that. I mean – I know that he does it. Drink, I mean. Everyone knows that Charlie drinks as much as he can. But since that day he seems to go to a lot more trouble to hide what he is doing.

  That’s why I was scared watching him that night. I haven’t actually seen him take a snort from a bottle in years. If he’s been doing that, will he come after me, again? Especially if he’s angry with me or doesn’t want me around.

  It’s those thoughts that I hate, greenie. I’m not one to worry, I told you before – but thoughts like that have a tendency to nag at you, not letting you go about your day like you should. Between the thought that Charlie might want to get rid of me, and worrying about Delilah, I haven’t felt quite right.

  So then I’m out reading the midway a bit later in the afternoon, looking for stray stuff on the ground, and Murphy falls into step beside me. I ignore him for as long as I can, but then he starts talking to me.

  ‘How you doing there, kid?’ he asks, all nonchalant. ‘Getting some exercise?’

  ‘Don’t be dumb,’ I said to him. ‘I’m a carny. Exercising is for suckers with too much time on their hands. I work for a living.’

  ‘So, you’re looking for anything the chumps may have left behind.’ He laughed a bit. ‘Just like I taught you, kid. Remember that?’

  Of course I do, but I can’t really tell him that, can I? Murphy is the only person I’ve ever let call me kid. Not even Charlie gets to do that. But I’m being tough, right? I need to harden myself up for what he’s going to say, so I just keep on walking. And he keeps right up with me.

  ‘Look, kid,’ he starts in, again, ‘I need to talk to you about the show.’

  ‘Talk to Charlie,’ I tell him, ‘he’s the one in charge, isn’t he?’

  Murphy stops me, forcing me to look up at him. And when I look into his eyes, I see real concern there. I never expected that.

  ‘Tony,’ Murphy said, ‘as much as I want you to be, you’re not just some punk kid. You’ve seen the receipts. You know the take. You know what our nut is.’ He stopped a moment, glancing up and down the lot. Then kind of motioned for us to keep moving, like he didn’t want us standing still. And this is the first time I can think of that he’s called me by my name. Must be something big – so I go with him.

  ‘The show isn’t doing well,’ Murphy says, flat out. ‘Big Mike has always done right by us – maybe even when he shouldn’t have – but even he can’t overlook how often the show’s been late getting to a lot. We keep losing the prime spots, which means our take isn’t as good as it used to be. The working acts are good – but the rubes aren’t as interested in them these days. Then we lose Sam. Then we almost lose you.

  ‘Now I know that wasn’t your fault,’ he said, motioning me to calm down before I can get a word out. Guess he knows the score about how I feel. ‘Everyone knows it. But it’s something of a jinx, isn’t it? We all depend on you, Tony, you know that. And now this guy Frank is starting to get everyone riled up, isn’t he?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I asked him. I haven’t thought about Frank much, but suddenly I remember the conversation I overheard him and Charlie having. But I don’t tell Murphy about it. Not now. I can hear anger in Murphy’s voice as he continues.

  ‘That guy ain’t no townie, kid. And he knows more than a thing or two about this show. He knows the crowds ain’t what they’re supposed to be, and he knows we’re struggling to get everyone paid. And he’s telling the others.’

  ‘He can say whatever he wants to the rest of the show,’ I told him. ‘They know us. They know we’ll come through. We’ve never let them down.’

  Murphy shrugged, ‘He’s not just saying it to the people in our show, kid. He’s been saying it all over the lot. That starts rumours. Rumours tend to spread in a place like this. And after a while rumours start to take on a ring of truth. And that ring of truth gets back to management. And when Big Mike gets a real wind of what’s going around, he’s going to act on it.’

  I was mad now. ‘Why would anyone believe what he says? Why should they listen to anything from him? They know us!’

  ‘That’s the thing, kid,’ Murphy looked at me, hard. ‘They know him, too. And they believe him, because some of what he is saying is true. The show really is in trouble!’

  ‘We’ll pull it out,’ I told him, but he wasn’t going for it.

  ‘We can pull it out or not,’ he said to me. ‘But this guy is also saying other stuff. When told with the truth, even false things can seem real. And that is all it takes to make people believe everything he says. Once they start doing that, the show can fall apart.’

  Murphy stopped a moment. We were in a quiet part of the lot. The sun was beating down on us and the dust was scratching the back of my throat.

  ‘What do you want me to do?’ I asked Murphy, meeting his eyes.

  Murphy looked away from me again, staring off at the horizon like he was thinking. But I knew he didn’t really have an answer. He had something else on his mind.

  ‘I want you to think long and hard about what I said,’ Murphy told me. ‘I want you to consider it with what’s coming. You never wanted to be a kid, Tony. And now, there’s no turning back. You’re an adult. You have responsibility for what’s going to happen. Man to man, I am telling you this. I want you to be ready.’

  He looked at me pr
etty sombre-like, then reached out and shook my hand. That’s when I knew he was serious. About everything.

  Murphy walked off then, not reading the midway any more, but with his head high and his eyes toward the horizon, like he was watching for an upcoming storm. Me? I didn’t know what to do really. I continued to walk around the lot, thinking about what Murphy had told me, and what I’d seen and heard.

  Anyway, after wandering around for a while, I looked up and found myself near Delilah’s joint. You know, where the six-legged cow is. I didn’t plan it or anything, I just happened to find myself there. So I forced myself to walk right up to it.

  Of course I was hoping she would be there, greenie! I’ve been thinking about what I’d heard when I sat beneath the window of her trailer ever since it happened. I practically can’t think of anything else. And, as I was thinking about what Murphy had said to me, I realised that if I was going to be a man, then I needed to tell her what I thought. I just had it in my head that if I could talk to her – let her know that I knew what was going on, I mean – she might come with me. I could protect her from whoever it was tossing her around. By which I mean her father, right?

  But as I walked up to their tent, I heard something. Maybe I should have walked away right then. Gone to get someone else. Found Murphy, maybe. I should have done anything but walk into that top. Because right on the inside, huddled against the stall where they keep the cow, Delilah was crying. And not just crying, she was bawling, and she looked beaten up, I guess. I was just… well, shocked, greenie. So that I didn’t know what to do for a moment.

  All I could do was listen to her sobbing. Watch her shaking as she held on to the bars of that stupid cow’s stall while tears ran down her cheeks. It’s crazy the things you remember when a moment like that hits you. I’ll never forget the look on her face when she saw me. She tried to pull her jacket up over her arms and shoulders – I guess to cover up the bruises.