The Carnival

It was two weeks before the end of my sophomore year in high school as I daydreamed about summer vacation. Having turned fifteen in January, I was too young to drive; even younger to go bar hopping. Maybe I’d run away with the circus; fat chance; I don’t recall ever hearing of a circus that came anywhere near where I lived.

There was a local traveling carnival that came into town every late spring. There was one old guy by the name of Gillespie, whom I became friendly with. He would be there every year when I was younger and I used to keep him company during slow nights. The more he told me that carnival life was not a good life, the more I wondered why. Everything looked like so much fun. I imagined this was similar to circus life; it was tempting. When I was fourteen I helped tear down the rides and learned more about the carnies’ way of life. It seemed just slightly above my age credentials; but none the less, intriguing. Gillespie was retiring and I wished him luck. I didn’t know if he was serious about leaving, so I wished him luck and said I’d hope to see him again.

It just wouldn’t be the same without Gillespie; I lost interest in carnival life until next spring. I visited the show, but my old friend was not there. I was saddened, but I’m sure he was doing just fine in his retirement. After all, forty years was a long time to be in a job that supposedly was not a ‘good life’. I would be out of school for the summer in a few weeks and moving on up to my junior year next fall. It was time for me to do something exciting with my life. I was determined not to hang around home every day.

Being only fifteen, there wasn’t too much a guy could do at that age. I was too young for most work, too young to drive, too young to drink, legally any way, too young for most things that I wanted to do. Not too young for sex; other guys I school already had steady girl friends. I’m sure they must be getting something, but what? I knew nothing at all about the opposite sex, but I felt the need to learn soon. I knew there was a reason for my dick getting hard almost every time a female caught my attentive eye. I needed to break away from this boring do nothing home life; but what, where, how, questions flooding my mind.

Hanging around the house all summer was certainly not the place to be to get experience and become a man of the world. It was time to get out and see the world. It was time to be removed from parental badgering and restrictions. I think my parents also sensed this yearning for me to break away; at least for a while; summer camp was an interesting option, but being poor it wasn’t given much thought. Some of my friends had gone to camp and ha a great time; there were girls there, too; horny girls according to my friend Donny. I used to joke with him and say,

“So they were horny, but what would you know about it? You probably just spoke to them at best and then went back to your cabin to beat off.”

We would laugh and he admitted he didn’t do much with them. When it came to sex, we two virgins really didn’t know anything. We heard the phrases ‘getting laid’ or getting fucked’ and knew it had something to do with sex, but we had no clue about actually how to do it.

It was becoming more important than ever that I had to get some worldly education. There just wasn’t much a kid in his young teens could do on his own, especially in this town.

By chance a friend of my father had dropped in and mentioned he had been working the carnival circuit, but couldn’t continue this summer because of other commitments. I overheard him asking my dad if I might be able to take his place. The only stipulation was I had to lie about my age and tell everyone I was eighteen. He swore there would be adult supervision at all times; plus it would be a chance to mature. The carnie life was a different way of life. I spoke up to put my two cents worth into the mix to let them know I was interested and would like to give it a try.

As the count down began before I left home for the first time, all sorts of images of carnie life kept me awake at night. I was looking forward to “running away with the circus’; every kids’ dream. The sights, the sounds, the smells, and the surroundings-Cape Cod. This was going to be Bobby’s greatest adventure.

I packed my suitcase and waited for my chauffeur, Vern, the ex-carnie, to bring me to my first day of work. Vern was the guy who persuaded my parents to let me go in this trek. I don’t know what Vern really did for a living, but I don’t think it was ever anything spectacular; mainly because of the nick-name my uncle used for him. Vern was a.k.a. “The Beanbag”. Say no more!

It was late Friday night when we reached Buzzards Bay; only one hour left before the carnival closed for the day. I was introduced Bob M., the guy I would be working for. He explained how things worked and that he didn’t own the show, but only rented space like all the rest of the gamers and food concessions. The only things owned by the carnival operator were the rides. I was told right off that the ride boys were a different breed and not to associate with them too much; especially after hours.

It was fairly quiet at this time of night, so Bob M. gave me a trial run to work his concession, or game I should say. It was a simple game; you just had to toss three softballs into a bushel size basket. Well, it sounds simple, but it’s not that easy to accomplish. I had a few customers, but all the prizes remained intact. So, I guess I passed my first hour as a junior carnie. Just before closing, I introduced myself to the two sisters in the adjoining game tent. While I was talking to them I discovered they were 18 and 16. I blurted out that I was also 18. I also got my introduction to some of the degenerates and reprobates that prowled the grounds as closing neared. One of them zeroed in on the two girls and began spouting a bunch of obnoxious remarks.

What would an 18 year old do in this situation? I thought fast and remembered stories and rumors that carnies stick together and nobody messes with them. You pick a fight with one; you have to contend with the whole troupe. Maybe I should just have just minded my own business!