Chapter 4

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"Slow down, kid, you'll make yourself sick" Joe warned as I quickly ate my food. I couldn't really help it, this was the first decent meal I had eaten all day (Well, I assume it could be called decent with it only being soggy rice and beans). "Now, look, I'm gonna take ya up to the boss, Richard 's his name. He can give ya a job if he likes ya." He said, motioning for me to follow him. I sat my plate down and followed him through the train cars. "But whatever you do, don't mention Ringling Brothers! He hates t'em bastards more than the depression!" We came to one door and he opened it revealing a number of different people who I recognized from the show, "Now, this here's the performers car. Just don't talk to them at all, it'll save ya a bunch o' trouble." The car was relatively quiet and I didn't dare utter a word until we reached the next car. "Now, this here is the woman performers, their more...polite." I barely heard the rest of his sentence because small hands grabbed my shoulders and pushed my back against the wall. My breath hitched in my throat when the woman who pushed me pressed up against me with her body.

"I know you," She ran a finger down my cheek. Then I recognized her, "I saw you at my show." She grinned.

"Martha, not this one, let him go, honey" Joe told her as she pushed me up against a bunk filled with more showgirls who ran their hands all over me and through my hair. I started giggling and shying away from their touches. I had never been touched by a woman much less had their hands roaming my body and the way they would giggle in my ear just made me blush profusely. Luckily, Joe came to my rescue and pulled me away much to their protest. "Now, when we go through this car you gotta be real quiet, to respect the ladies of the night" Ladies of the night-I had heard of them, it made me sick honestly. Women selling their bodies for money or other things of value. But, it was actually sad if the last resort for them was a life like that. I kept my head low so I wouldn't see anything I didn't want to or wasn't supposed to. When we reached the door to the next car Joe knocked on it.

"Now, kid, I don't know you, but I do know you ain't been runnin' the rails for long. Now, if you got any kind o' life t' go back to-"

"I don't" I cut him off and he gave me a look of sympathy.

"Then I'm terribly sorry" He patted my shoulder then a burly, colored man opened the door. "This here's Earl, he's gonna take ya t' Richard."

"Nice to meet you Earl" I extended my hand and he shook it then led me down a short hallway. It led to a room with a table of about five men playing poker.

"Boss, this 's the stowaway that roustabout picked up from the tracks" All men but one looked at us. The one that didn't look kept his back to us and I assumed he was Richard. "College boy."

"What's your name kid?" The man asked his being only the third British accent I had heard on this train.

"Harry Styles, Sir"

"You ever worked a show, kid?" He asked, laying down a card to the rest of his table.

"No, Sir." I answered.

"You ever even seen a show, Mr. Styles?" I let the words slip from my mouth without thinking.

"Yes, Sir, Ringling Brothers" Earl hit my arm, shoving me a little, but no one else seemed to notice. Richard turned around and had a sly grin on his face. I was terrified about what he would do next. Was he going to throw me off the train like Red almost had?

"Ringling, eh?" He took his cigar from his mouth and fiddled it between his fingers.

"Y-yes, but, they were terrible" I said, hoping it would help me. The show wasn't terrible, but I did like the Tomlinson Circus better.

He turned back around to his game and said to his fellow players, "Well, they do try, don't they, boys?" Making the other men laugh, "You ever seen our show?"

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