See You on the Backlot (4 page)

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?

Who’s that? Is that you, greenie?

Yeah, you can come in. Sorry about the mess, but being stuck here in the trailer is not the best way to keep a clean house. Thanks! A good cup of joe was just what I needed. Nothing like a good cup of coffee to give you a quick lift. Heck, even a bad cup of joe would be better than drinking nothing but juice, like I have been. Stupid doctors.

Well sure I’m healing up all right; but take a look at this, would you? I’m going to be limping around for a while with this stupid… Ah, I just can’t believe that it all went so badly wrong so quickly.

Sure, sure. I’ll tell you exactly what happened. Sit down over there. Just shove that stuff off that chair. So our night was going along like any other, right? I mean, we’ve had a few blue dates in a row, so it was time to finally bring in some cash, right? Sometimes these carnival rules that Big Mike has to go along with – Dollar Days and other stupid ideas – I mean, who thinks up these things?

You know what I mean by Dollar Days, gazoonie. Don’t get that look on your face like you haven’t put in even a single day on the midway. That’s when whoever it is running the lot, the one who called in Big Mike to bring the carnival there, decides to run some special on the rides and attractions. What was it this last time? One ticket for each ride or something dumb… Other times they offer wristbands to all the kiddies for a huge discount so they can ride all the rides – or make it so everyone rides on kids’ tickets. Always something dumb.

Now, when they do it to the ride jocks – well honestly, why should we care? But the
thing is, sometimes they’ll try to arrange it so the special includes the shows, too. Now a single-o, like the six-legged cow Delilah’s daddy has, is one thing. But, for them to do it to us? It’s ridiculous! Our nut is huge compared to most of the jocks here. We have a full staff to pay, plus the space rental, the parking for our trucks and trailers, hooking up to the genny… When they include
our
show, we’re just messed up, aren’t we? We can’t ever make that money up unless management decides to just burn the lot.

You know how I’ve told you that Big Mike don’t put up with any of us ripping off the townies or doing anything bad to anyone else? We never pull a red light job, where we get people to work for us then drive off without paying them, or burn anyone – but after a few days of this mess, I think even he’s changing his tune! Yeah, he’s definitely not interested in coming back to this locale at all. That’s what it means to ‘burn the lot’. I’m talking about going ahead and letting the agents just take everybody’s money and not care if we or any other carnival is ever allowed to come back to this town again.
Wouldn’t bother me none to never come back here again, let me tell you!

So, anyway, we haven’t been making our nut. That’s the amount of money we need to bring in to cover our expenses. I know it, Charlie knows it, and most of the show and crew do, too. I bet even you can see it, can’t you? After the past few days of being ripped off by the lot, it was finally our time to pull out all the stops and make some cash. Now, for a showman like myself, the best way to bring in the crowds is to put on the best show I can. Word starts building throughout the lot when a show’s really good, then those townies take it back to their friends, and next thing you know, the place is full of people ready to see what’s going on.

Yeah, I know some of the nonsense that the other shows have been telling you. How it’s our job to rip off the rubes without any thought to them. How does that phrase go? ‘Never give a sucker an even break, or wisen up a chump,’ that’s what Charlie told me some of the agents always say. But Charlie doesn’t buy into that and, more importantly,
neither does Big Mike. And you don’t want to either, greenie. Trust me on that!

So, it was finally our night. I’d been doing the counts; I knew we needed to make our nut, and that we needed to make it quick! And I figured the way to do it was to put something up on the bally that was way bigger than anyone else was doing. I worked it out with the rest of the troupe, we would push the grind as much as possible. See, we all know that Charlie, when he’s the outside talker, doesn’t always like to push to turn the tip… And when he’s like that, Murphy, who’s on the inside as the lecturer – well he’s not in a big hurry to push the show. But the faster we do the shows, the more we can do in a night – and the more customers we can get to pay to come in!

The plan was to get Charlie distracted into doing other things at various times throughout the night, so that I could take over as the outside talker and really work on turning the tips. I figured the faster I turned the tips, the faster Murphy would work the acts inside. We (all the performers)
also all agreed that we would keep our acts short, so it would help in speeding things through. Heck, even the half-and-half said she could make the blow-off go over in a really big way!

So we launched into the night. As always when we opened, the midway was slow. We took our time, conserving our energies, getting ready to launch my plan, right? The sun was still up as we began, just like always, and the crowds stayed away. But come dark, I’m on the bally doing a little fire-eating and I can see the bigger crowds start flowing down the midway towards us. I give the signal to Jerry – he’s the show’s cowboy – and he comes out of the top to pull Charlie aside about a problem with the half-and-half act. Jerry makes it out to be big enough so that Charlie gives me the nod to take over talking the bally, then he heads around to the back of the top.

Thing is, we all know that if Charlie has to step away from the bally, he probably won’t be back for a while. I may not like it, but I know my pops. A moment away is a
moment to get a snort. As if some alcohol will really make him a better talker – or whatever he thinks he’s doing.

As soon as Charlie is gone, I really start laying it on the townies. You know the drill – about how they’ll be amazed by the wonders inside our joint. First, I start off with a couple big bursts of fire. Fire always helps gather a crowd. Having
you
as a shill, just stopping dead in the middle of the midway so it causes a jam of people right then, doesn’t hurt, either. And as the crowds slow down I start in with my crack – that’s the words that are going to bring this mob into a tip, ready to be turned into an audience in our joint.

‘My friends,’ I start saying, nice and friendly-like, ‘you are just in time. Just in time for the big show. Come closer, come closer. That’s the big, free show that we are about to perform for you, right on this stage, right now. What I’m going to do right now is bring out our performers. That’s right, friends. All of them are making their way out to the stage right now just to perform
for you. That’s right, a free show, right here, right now.’ Then I lean back like I’m yelling into the tent, ‘Come on, now. Bring everyone out. The sword-swallower, the fire-eater. That’s right, all of them!’ Then I turn back to the audience, saying, ‘Move in closer, move in closer. We are going to do this show, we are going to do it for free, and I do
not
want you to miss a moment of it!’

So the crowd is gathering closer and closer now, expecting a free show. I’ve given a nod and a wink to a couple of the girls (and a couple older ladies, too), so they’re dragging their men in with them, creating an even bigger traffic jam in front of the bally stage. All that is making people stop, who probably wouldn’t have done so otherwise.

‘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.