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, andeven 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
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, andeven 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
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