Instinctively, Braz drew up his legs and covered his head with his arms in a fetal position as the punishing blows and kicks continued. Pain blossomed through his body, and he cried out.

At that, someone called in a low voice, “That’s enough, Sam! Let him alone!”

The attacker gave Braz another halfhearted kick. “Try to mess over Polly again, you little shithead, and you won’t get off this easy. And you better not go running to Arnie or Tal, either. You and Skee keep your mouths shut. They hear about this, I’ll beat the crap out of both of you. You got that?”

“He’s got it,” said the newcomer, a small elderly man. “Now get the hell away before somebody comes.”

Despite the venomous words, both men kept their voices down.

The one called Sam stomped off and Skee Matusik bent over Braz, who still writhed in agony on the ground.

“Come on, kid,” he said. “Let ol’ Skee help you back inside.”

He pulled the younger man to his feet and guided him around to the back of the trailer, where he pushed up the retractable rear door and pulled down the folding steps. Braz climbed them shakily and collapsed onto the mattress, half crying in his pain and anger. “The bastard!”

“You got any aspirin?” Skee asked practically.

Braz pointed toward the black zippered bag that held his toothbrush, razor, and other toiletries.

The older man found the bottle, shook out three in his hand. There was a water bottle next to the pillow, and he handed both to Braz.

“Thanks,” he muttered, and lay back on the makeshift bed, drained and exhausted and hurting all over.

“Anything broken?”

Braz shook his head wearily.

“Didn’t think so. And he stayed away from your face, too,” said Skee. In this light, his missing teeth left dark holes in his tight smile. “Smart. Your shirt’ll cover all the bruises you’re going to have tomorrow, but Tally would’ve noticed a black eye or cuts on your chin.”

“How come you didn’t pull him off me quicker?” Braz asked resentfully, wincing as he pushed the pillow into a more comfortable position.

“Like Sam wouldn’t make two of me? You’re just lucky I could stop him when I did. What’d you do to piss him off like that?”

“None of your business. But I’ll tell you one thing: This is my last time out. Come October, I’m finished with the carnival for good and all.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Skee, who’d heard it before. He went over and pulled the side door nearly shut and turned the fan full on Braz. “Want me to turn out these lights?”

“I mean it,” Braz said drowsily. “Who needs this fuckin’ life?”

“Some of us, kid,” sighed the old carny. “Some of us.”

CHAPTER 1

JUDGE DEBORAH KNOTT
FIRST WEEK IN SEPTEMBER

I was holding court over in Widdington and it was our fifth drunk-and-disorderly of this hot September morning.