Serpent Girl by Matthew Carnahan

Author:Matthew Carnahan [Carnahan, Matthew]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781588364388
Publisher: Ballantine Group
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

THIRTEEN

FOR THE MOST part, banality reigns at the circus. Being in almost any job at the circus is like playing goalie: long periods of sheer boredom interrupted by a second or two of sphincter-puckering danger.

In my tenure with the circus, I had seen it happen only a couple of times. Rolph, who worked with the big cats, called it “goink off all vocky,” which I think meant “going off all wacky,” but everyone imitated him with his thick Austrian accent, so I never did actually find out if “vocky” was a special word unique to Rolph’s language or just his bad accent.

The first time I saw things go off all vocky, I was new to the circus—about two weeks in—and had been given the new-guy assignment of following the elephants around during the parade and trying to catch their massive shits before they hit the ground. I’d had just about enough of this assignment; the long-timers took great pleasure in watching the new guy in orange coveralls concentrating so hard on catching the mega-loads. When they give you this job, they tell you you’ve been assigned as the elephant trainers’ apprentice, and then, of course, they have a big laugh watching you go from excitement to chagrin as they explain what the job entails.

So I was a shit catcher, and for a guy who’s used to copping free, catching shit was some kind of horrible instant karma.

Before the parade in each show, I’d help the handlers bring the elephants out and wash them down. Circus Maximus was a three-ring big-top circus, actually the last of its type on the continent since Barnum & Bailey had moved into auditoriums and done away with the tent. Maximus also was a low-rent poor relation to Barnum and would buy their lower-quality animals at a big discount. So we got blind tigers, cancerous horses, psychotic elephants, and worked them literally to death.

There was no excuse for the way the trainers handled the elephants. They were big, smart, and generally kind beasts who were being asked to be humiliated eight shows a week. One elephant, Szabo, was a fairly recent purchase from Barnum & Bailey. Szabo was an African elephant, a bull male, and full of unknowns. The rumor was that Szabo had a mean streak, and even though nothing serious had happened over at Barnum, they were looking to unload the elephant before he went off all vocky.

The elephant trainers, Lloyd and Jose, were angry, smelly little dudes, both about five foot three, both thick through the middle, neckless, and shaved-headed.

A bull hook—the principal tool for handling an elephant—looks like a walking cane but is made out of heavy steel and is sharp on the hooked end. The handlers get the elephants to comply by reaching up with the hooked end and sinking it anywhere in the elephant’s mouth area—almost like catching a fish—until the big mammal goes where the handler wants.

It’s something to see these giant beasts, who are so sophisticated that they bury and mourn their dead, being led around like cattle.

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