Fourteen months later . . .
We don’t have a white picket fence, a minivan or a dog. Instead we have an RV, part-time ownership of a Kaapori Capuchin named Bojangles, an African Grey Parrot who answers to Socrates, and our precious little Peanut, also officially known as Ollie.
Different strokes for different folks.
When we decided to name Ollie for our lost friend, I found out something else important about names. In the Bible, Sara was the wife of Abraham and mother of Isaac. Her name was originally Sarai which means ‘quarrelsome’, but God commanded that her name be changed to Sara before the birth of her son. It means ‘princess’. That seems kind of cool to me. Sara wasn’t so amused. She says she’s going to look up the meaning of ‘Joseph’ but she hasn’t yet. Probably just as well. It probably says ‘freak’ next to my name.
I don’t know how much longer my body will let me do stunts, flying through the air on 200 pounds of metal; I don’t know how much more punishment my body can take. Five or six years—less, if I blow my knee out again.
Everything has changed in the last eighteen months, and for the better.
On the business side, Seymour Michaels surprised us all by coming through for us, and now we make pretty decent money advising on motorcycle riding stunts in the movies and doing some of the tougher ones ourselves. We fit that around our Pomona gig, and seeing as that’s mostly in the evenings, it works out well for everyone. We’d only be able to do a real short tour with the carnival in the summer, but we’d definitely do it.
Michaels is also pushing ahead with plans to make a TV show about a stunt rider with a traveling carnival, and he’s going to write us into the contracts as ‘associate producers’ since the majority of the stories are based on us. I guess he wants the publicity the Daredevils are getting these days.
Kes still doesn’t fully trust him, even when he’s seen for himself the money landing in his bank account, but then again he doesn’t really trust anyone who isn’t a carnie. But Zach is no one’s fool when it comes to paperwork and the law, so I think we’ll be okay. I reckon that he could have been like one of Michaels’ high-priced shark lawyers if he’d gotten a college education along with a better start in life, but he seems happy with the way things are.
One thing that none of us saw coming is Luke’s new career. As well as stunting, he’s been working with Lisanne’s band on a theme song for the new show, and if it’s good, which it will be, they might do some more song-writing together. With 32o North riding high, who knows how far they could go.
The band won a Grammy for Best New Artist, and their first album Elephant Shoes topped the charts for weeks. It’s been hard for Lisanne and Daniel. She’s touring a lot of the time, and Daniel is training or playing away games. I know they’ll work it out—they’re solid.
The Falcons didn’t make it to the play-offs last year, but this year is looking good.
As for Sara, she’s trying to build a relationship with her parents. It’s not easy, but she’s trying. Her old man isn’t so bad, but her mom . . . well, it’s much more of a work in progress.
We heard that Liam and his wife split up. She blames Sara, but at heart she knows that isn’t the whole story. She wouldn’t have divorced the son-of-a-bitch otherwise. Owen went away to school on his baseball scholarship. Sara says he’s not in touch with his dad and never goes home to Montana. She’s not in contact with him, but I think her dad hears from time to time.
Not that Liam is in Missoula anymore. Word is, he got some job as a deputy sheriff down in Texas or something. I don’t care so long as he stays away from us. Not that I think that will be a problem—he couldn’t sign those termination papers fast enough. Sara didn’t say much, but I know that had to sting.
Ollie is my son, and I’ll never think of him any other way. We’ll tell him the truth one day when he’s old enough to understand and it’ll be up to him if he decides to find his birth father. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. But for now, I’m going to love him hard and be the best father I can. That’s a work in progress, too. And I’m also going to work on being a husband. We’re not in any rush, but when the time is right. At least, that’s what I told Sara, but I have plans.
For now, Spring is in the air. I can smell it in the salt-laden breeze that sweeps off the Pacific, and I can see it in the fresh green leaves on the desert figs that surround our ranch house.
We’ll be packing up and moving on in a few days, hitting the road again, getting used to life in the open. I can’t wait to have another year where my son learns about carnival life. I can’t fuckin’ wait.
Sara has been asked to make a documentary about the whole carnival life: the history, how it is today, with plans to interview as many old-timers as possible. Ollo would have approved of that.
Legends: Dancing on Air didn’t win at the Sundance Festival, but it picked up a ton of smaller awards and made a serious amount of money for everyone. Our share will be used to extend the ranch house next Fall. I’m kind of hoping the addition will be needed for a brother or sister for Ollie, but it’ll be what it’ll be. For now, he’s got Dove to play with. And I wouldn’t be surprised if Aimee announced that another little Donohue will be making an appearance sometime during the next year. Or maybe Tucker and Tera will surprise us all and be the next to have a kid.
Ollo loved telling his stories. He told Sara a Blackfoot story about Feather-Woman who fell in love with the Morning Star, but he never told her the ending of that story. They have a child together, Poia, a son. Eventually, he also married and returned with his wife to the Sky-country to be with his parents. Now Poia himself is a star that rises with his father the Morning Star. Not a bad ending, as endings go.
The rest of the movie money will be put into a college fund for Ollie. Neither of his parents have a college degree, but that doesn’t mean he won’t want to. The carnie life isn’t for everyone and if I’ve learned anything, it’s this: we’re all different, we’re all amazing. You can be a nerd, a weirdo, a freak, or play varsity ball and be valedictorian—everyone is equal when you’re a carnie. It doesn’t matter if you have a past like mine; what matters is who you are now.
And this is who I am, Joseph Connor Colton:
I’m a father.
I’m an uncle.
I’m a brother.
I’m a stunt rider.
I’m a carnie.
And when I take my girl up on the Ferris wheel, and when I hit the highest point on the ride, I’ll reach into my pocket and pull out the diamond and sapphire ring that I’ve had made for her. And when she says yes, which she will, it won’t be many more days after that before I’ll be able to say that I’m a husband, too.
I’m many things, like most people. I’m made up of dark and light, good and bad, love and hate. But now I wake every day looking to the light, the woman who shines so bright in my world.
My world—the carnival.
And my mind travels into the past and the future, and I think of all I’ve endured and of all the joy and pain to come, and I think of the friends I’ve made, men who’ve become my brothers, and I think how damn lucky I am to have them all in my life.
Our lives. Our lives in the traveling carnival.
May the lights never dim.
May the Wheel never stop turning.
May the road never end.
May the ride go on forever . . .
FINIS