Young and Revolting by C. D. Payne

Author:C. D. Payne [Payne, C. D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Humorous, Literary, Teenage boys, Humorous fiction, Bildungsromans, Diary Fiction, France, Twisp; Nick (Fictitious Character)
ISBN: 9780741434173
Publisher: Buy Books on the web
Published: 2006-07-15T20:01:37+00:00

WEDNESDAY, July 6 — When I returned from my morning canine constitutional, T.P. informed me that he had just heard from Mr. Petit. The lawyer reported that his snitches here learned from their mole within the U.S. military that the source of the alert on Vijay had been an official of the Krusinowski Spring Company.

“I had nothing to do with it,” I announced. “It was all Connie’s idea.”

“I look forward to relaying this report to Sheeni the next time I see her,” he replied.

Time to shake off my lethargy and knife my houseguest. Or go to Plan B.

2:26 p.m. On the train to Blois (pronounced “blwah,” like I feel). At least I hope that’s my destination. French transit system rather daunting to confused Americans. Feeling semi-confident I was on the right platform in the right station and boarded the correct train. Conductor did not seem perturbed when he inspected my ticket. Our car is pretty plush even though I bought the cheapest seats. No peasants with bleating goats or squalling children. Just bored-looking student types and backpacking tourists. Naturally, I have clandestinely stickered the entire train.

7:04 p.m. A short (but pricey) taxi ride from the station brought me to the grassy lot in Blois where the Cirque Coco-Poco had pitched its tents. The matinee performance was nearly over, but I bought a ticket and went in. No mammoth enterprise like the American circuses I’d been dragged to at the Oakland Coliseum on father-son bonding outings. The tricolored one-ring tent was smaller than a high school gym and sat perhaps 500 folks on folding aluminum bleachers. Lots of empty seats for this show, but the crowd of mostly kids cheered every trick and applauded with gusto at the conclusion. The most entertaining act I saw was a giant man about eight feet tall who performed with a little monkey. They were dressed alike in colorful tunics, and the joke was that the monkey was the trainer and the giant was the performer. Every time the big guy stood on his head or balanced on one leg on a milk bottle the monkey would feed him a treat and take a bow. Even I had to smile. No sign of Reina, but when the little four-piece band rose to play the exit march, I realized with a start that the mustached trumpet player in the gaudy red velvet uniform was Paul.

I made a call, stuck a few stickers, then wandered around outside to the back of the tent. I found my brother-in-law sitting on a crate and swabbing out his horn. He seemed pleased to see me, though he could tell the feeling wasn’t mutual.

“Hi, Rick. Did you see Reina’s act?”

“No, I came in too late. I didn’t know you played the trumpet.”

“Oh, I play well enough to be hired by a small circus desperate for a horn player. Connie didn’t go home, huh?”

“No. And your parents arrived last week to add to the fun.”

“Damn.”

“Sheeni’s gone, Paul. Have you seen her?”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Rick.

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