Read Online Under the Electric Sky by Christopher A. Walsh - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Christopher A. Walsh
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the very pugnacity that made him a great boxer that also got him into trouble on the road. Jack knew he was rough and warned him from the get-go.
âIf you get in any trouble, back home you go,â he admonished. He liked the kid and he did work hard during tear-down, but there was a business to run here and fighting with the customers would not be tolerated.
Trusting his instincts, Soggy got into a fight with a guy the first day out. The manager was not impressed and threatened him with a ticket home if there were any more altercations with the public. But fighting was in Soggyâs nature and there was no way to properly exorcise it.
The show was in Newfoundland and Soggy kept his cool through Corner Brook and Stephenville, but Bishop Falls proved a final test of patience for him. A big, blonde, moustached man came to the cookhouse, ordered a hotdog and refused to pay for it. He snickered and walked off. Soggy could feel the rage boiling up inside, but the old iron heart kept a steady beat and he let the guy go. The troublemaker went over to one of the games Soggy was managing and tore a plush panda bear to pieces to demonstrate his might and again, the iron heart seemed to paddle away harmlessly. But underneath, it took every ounce of will Soggy had to keep from tearing the manâs head off. The guy then came back to the cookhouse and ordered another hotdog. Against his better judgment, Soggy served it to him. He swallowed it in three bites and told him he wasnât paying for that one either. That was the breaking point for Soggy, who came out of the cookhouse ready to give the hotdog thief a taste of the fists of steel.
âIâm gonna beat it out of your hide,â he told the guy and they went to it.
The hotdog bandit landed a kick that set Soggy back for a few seconds. When he caught up, he lunged at the man, landing a few direct jabs, some of them with enough force to paint the manâs face with his own blood. Down he went and it was all over. The fists of steel had prevailed and the iron heart beat a merry tune inside Soggyâs chest.
Soggy quickly made his way to the front office to pick up his ticket home from Jack. It was a good run, he figured, and thereâd be other things, none quite as spectacular as working on the carnival, but there was always the rail yard or the fruit stand.
âNo, itâs all right,â Jack told him. âI saw it all and you took a lot from that guy.â
Jack never intended on sending Soggy home that day or any other for that matter. He was too strong a worker and having a little muscle on the show was a valuable business investment in those days. Carnival workers responded well to guys who scared them; it was the nature of the business. The workers were a tough lot and here was a guy who could handle them. A disposition to fight was not considered a liability in the carnival business; it was exactly the attribute needed to succeed. It was rough on the show and Soggy had just proved his worth in single combat, the way soldiers proved their bravery during war. He wasnât a thug â not here. Here he was management material.
Soggy flourished on the carnival after that. He acquired more concessions, including highly coveted gambling joints, and learned the business side of things from Jack and the old master himself, Bill Lynch. He became connected with the carnival on a deep level, the same way Lynch had and the old showman recognized it. Both of them had seen the City of Lights and knew there was no going back. These feelings toward the carnival ran much deeper than the ordinary job does for the regular man. They didnât leave at five to make a commute home for supper. They were already home. It was their life and they breathed it and... it was in their blood .
There were others who shared the same plasma as Soggy and Lynch and none of them could leave the carnival either. They all quickly realized they were struck with the
âIf you get in any trouble, back home you go,â he admonished. He liked the kid and he did work hard during tear-down, but there was a business to run here and fighting with the customers would not be tolerated.
Trusting his instincts, Soggy got into a fight with a guy the first day out. The manager was not impressed and threatened him with a ticket home if there were any more altercations with the public. But fighting was in Soggyâs nature and there was no way to properly exorcise it.
The show was in Newfoundland and Soggy kept his cool through Corner Brook and Stephenville, but Bishop Falls proved a final test of patience for him. A big, blonde, moustached man came to the cookhouse, ordered a hotdog and refused to pay for it. He snickered and walked off. Soggy could feel the rage boiling up inside, but the old iron heart kept a steady beat and he let the guy go. The troublemaker went over to one of the games Soggy was managing and tore a plush panda bear to pieces to demonstrate his might and again, the iron heart seemed to paddle away harmlessly. But underneath, it took every ounce of will Soggy had to keep from tearing the manâs head off. The guy then came back to the cookhouse and ordered another hotdog. Against his better judgment, Soggy served it to him. He swallowed it in three bites and told him he wasnât paying for that one either. That was the breaking point for Soggy, who came out of the cookhouse ready to give the hotdog thief a taste of the fists of steel.
âIâm gonna beat it out of your hide,â he told the guy and they went to it.
The hotdog bandit landed a kick that set Soggy back for a few seconds. When he caught up, he lunged at the man, landing a few direct jabs, some of them with enough force to paint the manâs face with his own blood. Down he went and it was all over. The fists of steel had prevailed and the iron heart beat a merry tune inside Soggyâs chest.
Soggy quickly made his way to the front office to pick up his ticket home from Jack. It was a good run, he figured, and thereâd be other things, none quite as spectacular as working on the carnival, but there was always the rail yard or the fruit stand.
âNo, itâs all right,â Jack told him. âI saw it all and you took a lot from that guy.â
Jack never intended on sending Soggy home that day or any other for that matter. He was too strong a worker and having a little muscle on the show was a valuable business investment in those days. Carnival workers responded well to guys who scared them; it was the nature of the business. The workers were a tough lot and here was a guy who could handle them. A disposition to fight was not considered a liability in the carnival business; it was exactly the attribute needed to succeed. It was rough on the show and Soggy had just proved his worth in single combat, the way soldiers proved their bravery during war. He wasnât a thug â not here. Here he was management material.
Soggy flourished on the carnival after that. He acquired more concessions, including highly coveted gambling joints, and learned the business side of things from Jack and the old master himself, Bill Lynch. He became connected with the carnival on a deep level, the same way Lynch had and the old showman recognized it. Both of them had seen the City of Lights and knew there was no going back. These feelings toward the carnival ran much deeper than the ordinary job does for the regular man. They didnât leave at five to make a commute home for supper. They were already home. It was their life and they breathed it and... it was in their blood .
There were others who shared the same plasma as Soggy and Lynch and none of them could leave the carnival either. They all quickly realized they were struck with the
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