Dunc and Amos Hit the Big Top (2 page)

It was down now to a tired bigtop tent with patches here and there and a few animal cages and a bunch of men that Dunc thought either had been in prison, should be in prison, or would be in prison soon.

But it
was
a circus, and Amos’s nostrils flared with excitement as they chained their bicycles to a telephone pole and locked them.

Dunc stopped at the rope-gate area leading into the circus compound and held Amos back.
“Amos, I’m not certain this is a good idea—actually, I’m positive that it’s a bad idea.”

Amos stopped and turned to Dunc. “Oh, sure—every time you have an idea it’s a good idea, and every time I have an idea it’s a bad one. Well, let’s just review things a bit, shall we? Who did the hang-gliding disaster, me or you?”

Dunc hesitated.

“Come on.”

“Me. But—”

“And whose idea was it to mess with a stinking old parrot and look for buried treasure?”

“Well …”

“Whose?”

“All right, that was me too.”

Amos nodded. “I think you’ll find that most of the ideas that have led to our nearly dying came from you. So this time let me have an idea.”

“But Amos—there are people here who haven’t had a bath since last year.”

Amos shrugged. “So what? You’ve always spent way too much time on hygiene. It might do you good to get a little dirty.”

Amos left Dunc standing with his mouth open, turned, and went through the gate. Or tried to.

A thin man—Dunc thought he probably hadn’t eaten anything in a week—held out a gray hand. “Wait a minute, kid—where you going?”

Amos had the clipping from the paper about the amateur talent. “I’m here for the amateur talent event.”

“What part?”

“The trapeze.”

The man studied Amos for a long time, then shook his head. “I don’t know. A lot of kids are trying to get in free by using that amateur thing.”

Amos drew his shoulders up. “I’m not lying—I’m an expert tumbler and gymnast. Ask my friend.” He motioned back to Dunc.

The man looked at Dunc.

Dunc stared at Amos. As far as he knew, Amos had never tried gymnastics or tumbling in his life. Unless you counted the times answering the telephone.

Amos turned and stared back at Dunc.

Dunc nodded.

“Well …” The man still hesitated, unconvinced, but a second man came up to him. If anything he was grayer and thinner than the first, and he had a lit cigarette with a long ash hanging from the corner of his mouth.

“Come on, B.J.—let’s get some food down. I’ve only got twenty minutes before I have to dress up for the geek show.”

B.J. waved Amos past. “All right. You can go in, but your friend has to have a ticket. You get it over there.” He pointed to a small booth at the side of the entrance.

“I’m not buying a ticket for this,” Dunc said to Amos, turning to leave. “Why should I pay to watch you die? I can come and watch you answer the phone for nothing.”

Amos grabbed his arm. “Come on—I’ll pay for the ticket.”

And finally, Dunc leaving skid marks with his heels, Amos bought him a ticket and dragged him into the big top.

Inside the tent it was cool and dark and almost completely insane with noise and movement. It was close to noon, and the first show of the day started at four o’clock, and
even Dunc could see they would be lucky to make it.

One crew was trying to erect an animal cage in the big center—and only—ring but there were just four men, and they seemed to be spending most of their time running in circles and swearing at each other.

“Reminds me of the parrot,” Amos said. “The language, I mean.”

Dunc nodded. “I’ve even heard some new ones.”

“I wonder who’s in charge?” Amos asked.

“From the way it looks, nobody.”

One of the men working on the ring saw the boys and yelled at them. “Don’t just stand there—come on, take a strain!”

His voice was like a whip, and Dunc and Amos were moving before they thought to question it. Amos grabbed a section of the cage and tried to lift it, but it was too heavy, so Dunc helped him. No sooner did they have it up than another man came and pulled it down.

“Not yet—it’s too soon.”

“Too soon for what?” Amos asked.

“Too soon to put the cage up, dummy.”

“Oh.”

“We don’t want to do it too soon, or they’ll start expecting it.”

“Oh.”

“Didn’t they tell you anything when they hired you on as rousts?”

Amos shook his head. “Nope.”

The man turned and walked away to tip over another section of cage that two other hands were raising. “Not yet—it’s too soon.”

Dunc whispered to Amos. “We’re not hired on as rousts.”

“Who cares? If they think we work here, we can move around easier. Come on, let’s find somebody who knows about the talent contest.”

Amos moved away from the ring and into the back of the tent, near where a small stand had been erected for the band, except that there wasn’t a band. Instead there were two men with trumpets and a set of drums that looked as if they’d been used in the Civil War.

The two men could have been twins. They were both short, round, and bald and had bellies hanging over their belts. They were
dressed in tired suits, and one of them was tightening the head on a snare drum.

“Hi,” Amos said. “We’re looking for somebody in charge.”

Both men looked up at the same time. “That’s funny, you don’t look like a bill collector.”

“I’m not—I’m here to sign up for the amateur talent event.”

“Ah, Willy, he’s here for the amateur talent event,” the man on the drum said to the other.

“Yes, Billy, I heard that. Tell me, young man, what event do you wish to work in?”

Amos coughed. “The trapeze.”

“Ah, Willy, he wants to do the trapeze …”

“I heard that, Billy.” He turned to Amos. “Is it possible, young man, that you have had some experience on the trapeze?”

Amos nodded. “Oh, yes. I’ve been—trapezing—for a long time. It’s a hobby, and it’s always been my dream to work in a circus, flying around from swing to swing, wearing tights.”

“Ah, Willy, he’s had experience.…”

Willy nodded. “I heard that, Billy.”

“So if you’ll just tell us where to find the man in charge,” Amos said, “we’ll sign up and get ready for the show.”

“Ah, Willy, he wants to see the man in charge.”

“Yes, Billy, I heard. Well, you see, young man, it would seem that you’re speaking to him. Or them. We own the circus. Or we will until the bill collectors take it from us, which they have been trying to do for years.”

“Oh. Well then, where do I sign?”

“There’s a problem with that,” Willy said. “We are fresh out of trapeze acts at the moment for you to work with as amateur talent.”

“Yes,” Billy said. “Fresh out.”

“It would seem,” Willy said, “that the Great Spangliny had an attack of good sense and last night left before his bluff was called.”

“Bluff?” Amos asked.

“Yes. The Great Spangliny had talked, no, bragged about doing his most death-defying and gravity-cheating performance this very evening.”

“What was he going to do?” Dunc cut in.

“A solo-four somersault forward dive from
one bar to another, with both bars swinging in full arcs.”

“Wow.”

“Yes.” Billy nodded, sighing. “It would have made the show.” He looked at Amos. “But now I’m afraid it’s all off. Spangliny is gone—left this morning.”

“When you say ‘gone’ ”—Amos rubbed his chin—“how do you mean that?”

“Gone. He pulled out this morning.”

“Did he take all his equipment?”

Billy shook his head. “No. We own the equipment. He just left a note saying he thought he’d try brain surgery for a while and pinned the note to my door.”

Dunc had been quiet all this time, but he looked intently at Amos and shook his head. “No, Amos.”

Amos ignored him and spoke to Billy. “So all the equipment is still here, and you just need somebody to jump around to have a show, right?”

Billy sighed. “Exactly. We need a trapeze artist.”

“No, you don’t,” Amos said. “I’ll do it.”

“No.” Dunc held up his hand. “Amos, don’t do this.”

Amos smiled at Billy. “Would you excuse us for a moment?”

He turned and dragged Dunc back out of earshot. “What are you trying to do—kill the whole deal?”

Dunc nodded. “Yes. Are you completely insane?”

Amos looked at the top of the tent, then back down to Dunc. “Don’t you see? This is my best chance ever to get Melissa to see me. There she’ll be, sitting in the audience, and I’ll be in center ring with the spotlights on me.”

“
Above
center ring,” Dunc corrected. “
Way
above.”

“So?”

“If you fall—”

“I’m not going to fall. Remember, you’re the one who dragged me umpteen million miles dangling from a hang-glider. This is nothing—plus, there’ll be a net. Just a minute.”

Amos turned and trotted over to Billy. “There’s a net, right?”

Billy nodded. “A good one.”

Amos trotted back to Dunc. “So there’s a net. Even if I fall, I’ll just bounce a little.”

Dunc shook his head again. “It’s still crazy. You’ve never been on a trapeze in your life, and you’re going to do a quadruple somersault?”

“Don’t be silly. I can’t do that. I’ll just swing around a little while in the spotlights and make sure Melissa sees me, then do a death-defying drop into the net, and that ought to about do it. She’ll be mine.”

“What’s left of you.”

“Don’t worry,” Amos said over his shoulder as he moved back to Billy and Willy. “It can’t go wrong.”

•
3

Willy and Billy had not been easy to convince.

“There’s the insurance,” Willy had said.

“And your bones,” Billy had said. “There are so many to break.”

Finally, after what seemed hours to Dunc and days to Amos, the two owners had consented to Amos’s scheme to perform as the solo trapeze artist.

“If,”
Willy had insisted, “you show us what you can do on the trapeze and work with us for the next few hours until showtime.”

“Work?” Amos had been turning away and he stopped. “What do you mean, work?”

“Help us set up,” Willy said.

“Yes,” Billy nodded. “Help us set up. We always seem to have trouble setting up, don’t we, Willy?”

“Oh my, do we. Setting up is one of our most difficult parts. Along with selling tickets and keeping track of the money and doing the show and taking it down, I should add. And of course, traveling.”

“Ah yes.” Billy sighed. “There’s the traveling. We always seem to have trouble with that as well, don’t we?”

“We certainly do.”

Dunc stepped forward. “Is there a part of the circus, you know, that you don’t have trouble with?”

Willy rubbed his chin, thinking. “Well, now that you mention it, no—we seem to have trouble with just about everything, don’t we, Billy?”

Billy rubbed his chin in exactly the same way. “Now that I think of it, you’re right there, too. We seem to have difficulties with everything, don’t we?”

“We’ll be glad to help you,” Dunc said. “We have to go home and change into work clothes.”

Dunc turned and left. Amos followed with a bewildered look on his face.

“What was that all about?” Amos asked as they approached their bicycles.

“What do you mean?”

“One minute you’re trying to stop me, and the next minute you’re volunteering us for work with the circus.”

Dunc smiled, wide-eyed and innocent-looking. “I thought you wanted to get involved with the circus.”

“Not like this—not with work. I just wanted to be the trapeze artist and get Melissa’s attention. I didn’t want to
work
.”

Dunc unlocked and straddled his bike and flicked the shift lever into second gear and kicked off and started pedaling. He never started in low unless he was starting up an almost vertical hill. He said it was too inefficient. As always, Amos started in low and stayed there too long before he shifted—until his legs and feet were a blur trying to catch up with Dunc.

“You’ve got to pay your dues,” Dunc said.

“What dues?” Amos shifted but went too far, got the lever into fourth, and had to click
it back and forth several times to hit second and then third.

“Your dues to be a star.” Dunc coasted for a moment. “You’ve got to work to learn the circus business before you can be a star.”

Amos stared at him. “Are you nuts? I just want to swing on the trapeze bar a few times and get Melissa to call me. You sound like my father, with all this dues stuff. He’s always saying I’ve got to settle down and pay my dues and learn and study and get ready for college.”

Dunc wiggled a finger at Amos. “He’s right, Amos. You’ve got to settle down and pay your dues and work.”

Dunc kicked down hard and pedaled ahead before Amos could see him smiling.

•
4