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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