Sarah felt an unexpected chill run through her veins… that quickening that tells you something isn't quite the way it should be. But that was outrageous, everything was better than it had been for her in years! She quickly shrugged it off and made herself another cup of coffee and sat down opposite Hawkins at the fold-down dining table opposite the galley-style kitchen. He reached up and turned on the gas mantle of the built-in lamp that hung on the wall beside them and held a paper match to the mantle until it burst into flame and settled into a white-hot glow that illuminated the cabin like an electric light bulb.
They sat there in silence for an uncomfortably long time, Sarah curious and restless from the excitement of this new life unfolding for her so quickly, Hawkins quiet and pensive, his mind somewhere else as he gazed out the curtained window through the trees to the opposite clearing where his crew was busily making preparations for settling down for the night. There were voices carrying through the fifty yards or so that separated them from the others, mixed with the muffled sounds of stirring animals caged in their trailers as the trainer and Sammy moved from cage to cage, dispensing the night's ration of food and water, plus an occasional dose of vitamins or veterinary prescription to one or the other mildly ailing beasts.
"Uh, I guess you're sort of used to all this traveling by now… I mean, you've been to all these places before so many times probably," she said, feebly making some kind of conversation.
Hawkins looked as if he had been very far away. "What? Oh, yes, you're absolutely right. But I never get tired of it all. This is the kind of life I was born for, and I don't ever aim to change. I guess I'll die one day up here on the road somewhere. Won't be nobody around to mourn over me 'cept Lobo."
"Lobo? That means wolf, doesn't it?"
"Not only means it, he is a wolf."
"You've got a wolf? I didn't see him with the other animals." Hawkins shook his head. "No, I don't keep him down in California. He stays up here with 'Stump' during the winter, and I just take him with me when I come through. He's out by those trees there. Take a look, I think you can probably still see him."
Sarah peered out the fogged-over window, first wiping a spot clear with her fist. "Oh, you weren't teasing! There he is… and he's not tied or anything!"
"Tied! Lobo? He wouldn't stand for it. 'Sides I've raised him ever since he was a pup. One of our trucks accidentally killed his mother and I took him in. Had to feed him just like a natural baby for months. He and I are pretty good pals now, like I was his real pappa or something."
Sarah started to giggle at the thought of Mr. Hawkins fathering a timber wolf, but the look of misty-eyed seriousness on the old man's face cut her short. By God, he was serious, all right! That mean-looking animal out there running around loose was like a son to him! Well, anybody his age was due a few eccentricities, she supposed. If that was all she had to contend with, it wouldn't be hard at all. "When do I start work, Mr. Hawkins? I mean, when do I really start to do something? It's nice and all just sitting around, but I get sort of bored. You know what I mean?" she asked, her soft blue eyes twinkling.
A slowly spreading grin worked its way through the sun-parched wrinkles around Hawkins' face. "Don't worry, honey. We'll have plenty for you to do soon enough. Hey, you sure you don't want a drink? I know one special I bet you'd like."
"Well, maybe just one. But I can't drink anything real strong. You'll have to make it kinda' weak for me or I'll get sick."
Henry Hawkins guffawed, reminding Sarah of some grizzled miner she'd once seen in an old Bogart movie, but she couldn't remember the name. "You break me up, girl! You're kinda' refreshing, like a breath of spring air around this bunch of drunks and dee-gen-erates. Don't worry, I'll fix you a special…"
CHAPTER FOUR
Sarah knew even before that first mouthful had started a gentle glow in her belly that taking a drink at all was a terrible mistake. Jamie had told her once when they were going to a party that she should be doubly careful since she wasn't used to drinking and, unlike the more experienced, could not tell when she had had enough until it was too late.
This stuff tasted good enough – a "Cuba Libre" he called it, whatever that meant – in fact, it was hard to taste anything other than the Coke he made it with. She didn't know what else was in it, except for the slice of lemon she could see floating on top, because he had gone over to Gloria's trailer. "Don't have the mixin's here," he had explained.
"Well, how do you like it?" he asked, her, his head cocked sort of apprehensively.
"Okay… it's sort of like a Coca-Cola with something warm in it, but the Coke's all I can really taste."
"Well, just take your time with it. You'll get used to it soon enough. Not that I'm trying to turn you into some sort of lush or something, mind you. But you'll probably need a drink once in a while when we really get rolling. It's pretty hectic around this show sometimes."
Sarah nodded. She wanted to ask him once again just exactly what her duties would be, but she thought better of it. He did not seem to be disposed to tell her very much right now, and Sarah figured it best to just let things ride as they were. After all, she was getting paid good money for doing nothing, so far, so who was she to complain?
They talked for a while longer, Sarah mindful of the fact that her words were beginning to slur a bit around the edges and that some of her thoughts seemed to ramble a bit more than usual. But she wasn't drunk, she was certain of that. Maybe she was no experienced drinker, but she surely knew enough to know when to stop. Hawkins fixed her another and she reluctantly accepted it, and she thought for a moment it was a bit strange that he seemed to have everything he needed right here in the camper this time. But why worry? The night was cool and quiet, save for an occasional growl from one of the big cats or a roar from the show's big star, Jomo, the African gorilla, safely locked behind the double steel bars of his cage where she'd seen him – just once – before they left California.
Hawkins rambled on a bit, relating how he had picked up the traveling show for a song from a Mexican couple who needed the money. He conveniently left out the rest of the story – how they were desperate for money for their son's much-needed operation and he loaned it to them, taking the show as collateral. Hawkins was in the used furniture business then, as he called it, though his real trade was in taking over delinquent furniture store accounts and foreclosing for the goods and reselling it to Chicanos in Los Angeles. It had been a quite lucrative business, sometimes bringing the same goods back two or three times before he mistakenly sold them to someone who could actually hope to make the payments.
That was a part of his life he didn't talk much about, particularly with new employees. People sometimes got the wrong idea. Just like when they called him heartless for taking the old couple's livelihood just because their only son died on the operating table, and they lacked the money to make their note payment on time. Hell, business is business, he always said, and if you can't take it, you shouldn't be in it. At least that was the way Henry Hawkins saw things – he never believed in giving any quarter, just as he expected none if the chips happened to be on the opposite side.
But it wasn't good to dwell too much on thoughts like that now… there was something much more important at hand. Yes, this cute little thing was in for a real surprise. Just about another hour oughta' do it, he though. He nearly chuckled out loud as he thought of the look on Gloria's face as he dumped the powdery Spanish Fly into Sarah's syrupy rum and Coke. There was always plenty of it in the veterinary cupboard for when they breeded the animals… and for other little surprises like this one. Gloria had been the first, and she was getting close to the end of her prime now, though God knows she certainly didn't need any drugs to help her out now. Christ, she could fuck the balls off a dozen men before she got her second wind. But this one… this one was sweet and still innocent. Marriage may have cost her her cherry, but she was just as pure as the day she turned sixteen, and that was just what the show needed. Oh yeah, little lady, you're in for a big surprise… you'll probably wet those sweet white panties when you find out what's really in store for you, but you'll come around, they all do. And I'm gonna' have some real fun with you while you're making up your mind. Yes sir, some real fun!