The first few days Lillian was with us we were always looking over our shoulder, expecting to see Dwight come out of nowhere carrying a Tommy gun or something to clean out the bunch of us. But, as the weeks went by we mostly forgot about him, except to sometimes wonder out loud what had really happened with him.

Then, one night in Streator, Illinois she came up to me when I went out back of the box truck to take a leak before the main started. It was going to be one of those long features with no heats, and if I didn’t tap myself pretty dry the vibration of the car could have my teeth floating before the race was over with. She was looking very worried and just about out of her head. "Dwight’s here!" she cried. "Mel, what the fuck am I going to do now?"

"Did he see you?" I asked.

"I don’t know," she whimpered. "I don’t think so. I hope not. He’s got a buddy of his with him. Izzy is even bigger than he is, and he’s even meaner. They’re over in the grandstands, looking us over. I tried to stay out of sight behind the trucks."

"Don’t worry about it," I told her. "We’ll take care of you." I wasn’t exactly sure how, but I knew I had to think of something, fast.

The only one of us that didn’t have something that had to be done right then was Carnie. I went and found him, and took him out in back of the box truck where Lillian was waiting for me. I quickly explained the problem and said, "I think we’d better get her out of here, and then deal with those pugs after the race."

"Does back to the motel sound safe?" he asked.

"Probably," I said. "Might be safer to put her in a different motel if you can find one."

"Yeah, good thinking," he said. "Lillian, you stay here, I’ll go get my car and pull right up here to pick you up."

"OK, fine, but hurry!" she said. "I just know they want to kill me after what happened to Dwight."

"Don’t worry about it, we’ll take care of you," Carnie smiled, and went to get his car.

"Look, I’ve got to go get in the race car," I told Lillian. "You just stay here until Carnie comes. You’ll be all right."

"Watch out for those two, Mel," she said. "They’re big trouble."

"We’ll take care of it," I told her, wondering just how we were going to do it. On my way back to the car, I stopped at the back end of the box truck and grabbed a big crescent wrench, which I figured had to be just about as good as a fist. I knew I could stick it by the seat in the car so it would be handy after the race.

I barely made it out to the track in time to jump into the 66 car, fasten my belt, start it up and join the others for the warm up laps. I don’t remember where I started but I know it was toward the back of the field so I must have done pretty good the previous night – we never bothered with qualifying, but just inverted the finish from the night before. We made four or five warmup laps, then when we came out of the last turn after the one to go flag Spud flew the green flag, and we were off and running.

I don’t remember how long the race was that night; it strikes me we were on a mile track, so it was probably around seventy-five laps, just about as far as we could manage to go and still be pretty sure of having gas when we finished. I managed to jump three or four spots on the first lap on the strength of my souped up engine, but eased back after that to make sure that the gas would go the distance, since hopping up the engine meant that I went through gas quicker than most. I was running about fourth when Dewey and Pepper tangled in front of me and spun. The cars weren’t hurt at all, but Spud had to throw the yellow and the two had to go to the back of the field.

That left me second in back of Scotty Lombard on the restart, and I decided to just hang on him for a while and not give him a try just yet, unless somebody started pushing me. I didn’t get to do that very long because the next thing I knew Dink was trying me on the high side, so I figured I’d better push a little myself. We had a three-way battle for the lead for several laps until I finally got around Scotty and was able to put a little distance on him.

I pretty well stayed out in front of Scotty the rest of the race, although not all that far out in front. I remember it because I remember thinking that it might be better to let Scotty by so I could warn the rest of the guys about Dwight and his buddy while we were loading the cars. I guess I really must have been a racer because it didn’t strike me that warning the guys was as important as winning. Scotty got close as the white flag flew, but Dink wanted the extra five bucks and took a run on him in the last lap, which sort of diverted his attention from me.

So, I pulled into the winner’s circle, where Spud handed me the trophy. "Warn the guys," I told him. "Lillian’s old buddy Dwight is around somewhere with some buddy of his."

"Carnie already told us," he said. "We’re going to try to avoid a clem if we can, but we’ll be ready if we have to."

That was a relief; I should have realized that Carnie would have spread the word. I still didn’t know what was going to happen as I went out and took my victory lap, but there were fifteen of us and only two of them, so the odds didn’t seem real bad.

As always, when the race was over with they opened the pits to let the people from the grandstands come over and talk with us, and we had a bigger crowd than usual that evening. Maybe it just seemed bigger since we had so many drivers in the crowd, and I noticed that most of the drivers had a wrench in their hands or their pockets, and most of us were still wearing helmets.

I guess that Dwight and Izzy must have made pretty much the same observation, because they didn’t try to beat the shit out of me as soon as they got up to me. It sounded like they’d thought about it a fair amount, because as soon as they got up to me Dwight asked, "Where the fuck is that bitch?" He’d been drinking pretty good; I could smell the booze all over him.

"What?" I asked. "Who are you talking about?"

"Lillian, that bitch that grabbed you down in Mattoon a couple months ago just before one of your smartass buddies cold cocked me."

"Black haired girl, about so tall?" I said, holding out my hand. "Down in Mattoon? Yeah, I think I remember her. Looked like she would have been a pretty good ride, but she took off. I don’t have any idea where she is." Which was the truth, as long as I didn’t get into the timing.

"Aw, bullshit," Dwight snarled. "You know where the fuck she is, now you better damn well tell me."

"Honestly, I just barely remember her," I said. "About all I remember is that she was a real looker."

"Well, fuck you," he said. "I don’t appreciate you lying to me, and I don’t appreciate some one of you fuckers bashing me in the back of the head and shipping my ass down to Mississippi. It ain’t no Goddamn fun to spend thirty days on a fuckin’ county chain gang."

"Chain gang?" I asked. "What the hell did you do to get on a chain gang?"

"Fuck if I know," he said. "All I know is that one second I’m talking to you and her, and the next thing I know there’s this yard bull in Jackson, Mississippi yanking me off the train."

"What did you do, take a swing at him?" I asked, figuring that was what must have happened.

"Well, maybe a little," he said. "But what the fuck was I supposed to do? You fuckers were the ones that set me up, and I ain’t gonna forget it."

Just about then, Carnie slipped in. "Look, mister," he said in a friendly way, "I don’t know what you’re talking about. What do you say that you give us a few minutes to load up, and we’ll head up the road for a drink or two and talk this all out peaceably. I’ll even buy a round."

"Well, all right, I guess," Dwight snarled again, figuring that he and Izzy were way outnumbered out there on the track and they stood a better chance of getting me alone in a bar somewhere.

"Good enough," Carnie said. "Mel and I will meet you at that bar up the road towards town in a few minutes."

"You better be there," Dwight snapped as he and Izzy turned to go.

I shook my head and turned to Carnie as they walked away. "Carnie, do you know what the fuck you’re doing?" I said. "What are you going to do, have the cops there?"

"Have no fear, Carnie is here," he smiled. "Believe it or not, they’re set up pretty good. Go get this car loaded and get out of your coveralls."

As I drove the 66 car up onto the trailer’s loading ramp, I sure hoped that Carnie knew what he was doing. After I got the car tied down, I went over to the back of the box truck and started peeling out of my coveralls. As I was doing that, Carnie came up to me. "Lillian is all right. Nervous as hell, but all right. I put her in a room at a different motel, and gave her my .38 in case everything fails."

"Your .38?" I asked. "I didn’t know you carried a gun."

"Most of the time I don’t, but I keep one around since you never know when you’re going to need one, especially some of the places I’ve been."

"I have to say that I kind of wish that you still had it."

"Naw, this is going to work out all right," he smiled. "It’s never a good idea to use a gun unless you really have to. There’s usually a better way to deal with things. The gang is all going to be there so things aren’t going to get out of hand."

"That makes me feel a little better," I said. "I just don’t think we want those two hanging around looking to get one of us alone."

"Shouldn’t be a problem," Carnie said. "Mel, you worry too much. Maybe you’d better ride with me. I’ll be right back, I just need to tell the guys to go in a group, not one at a time."

Let’s face it, I was still nervous, and a little bit for Lillian as well as for myself. She could disappear at any time with no way of tracking her, but it wouldn’t take a lot in the way of brains to be able to follow the MMSA, not that I had the impression that Dwight was overly equipped in that area anyway. I always figured that it was the dumb ones that you have to worry about; the smart ones usually know better.

The whole gang of us pulled into the bar in a group. It was one of those places that was pretty beat-up, and kind of struck me as a dive. We went in, to find Dwight and Izzy sitting at a table, with Dwight managing to look both sour and mean at the same time, while Izzy just looked sour. Figuring I was taking my life in my hands, I followed Carnie over to the table and sat down with them. "So, did you guys like the race tonight?" he asked.

"It was OK, I guess," Dwight said. "We was driving through town and saw the poster for the midget races, and we wondered if it was going to be you guys. I figured Lillian might be with you."

"Afraid not," I said. "Good looker, though. What was she, a girl friend or something?"

"She was my bitch. I had a hell of a time getting her out of that cathouse up in Chicago, almost got my ass shot in the process."

"Sounds like quite a story," Carnie said genially.

"Well, she said she wanted out of there, and I figured that if I got her out of there she ought to stay with me, you know? But the bitch just couldn’t keep her hands off other men."

"There are women like that, I guess," Carnie shrugged as the waitress came over. "Double whiskeys all around," he said. "The normal rotgut will be just fine."

"So," Carnie said as the waitress turned to go, "Tell me about this chain gang business."

"Ain’t really a hell of a lot to tell," the Dwight said. "I was sound asleep when that fucker down in Jackson jerked me awake, so of course I took a swing at him. They had me in front of a judge within an hour and I was swinging an Irish backhoe in another hour. Hotter than all get out, mosquitoes all over the fucking place and I just fucking sweated my ass off."

"I knew they had chain gangs down in Georgia," I said conversationally. "I didn’t know they had them in Mississippi."

"One of the guys told me that some counties do, some don’t," he said. "God damn, let me tell you, that chain gang was three quarters niggers and most of them dumber than rocks. That wasn’t no fun, neither."

Just about then, the waitress came over and set the drinks down in front of us. Carnie handed her a five to cover them, while Dwight rattled on about the damn lazy niggers on the chain gang. All of a sudden, Carnie broke in. "Jesus, would you check out the tits on that babe back in the corner behind you," he said. "Christ, they’re better than Rita Hayworth’s."

Well, naturally, they swung around to check them out, and of course I did, too. The girl did have a pretty nice bazoom on her, I have to say that, but whether they would have given Rita Hayworth a run for the money was a good question. "Not bad," Dwight said as he swung back around after a moment. "I think Lillian’s were better, but they ain’t bad."

If I had dared to I would have said that I agreed with him. I kept my mouth shut as Dwight went on bitching about the lazy niggers on the chain gang and how they wouldn’t do a lick of work unless someone was standing over them with a shotgun, which somebody was. I made a mental note to never get caught being belligerent in Mississippi without cash and an I.D.

After a bit, Carnie ordered another drink, and got Dwight to talking about how he’d found Lillian in that house up in Chicago, and how he’d gotten her out of there. Once again, the story involved booze and belligerence, and there were certain quarters in the big city where it might not be a good idea for him to go to alone again anytime soon. We never got the whole story out of him, because after a while he was slurring his words, repeating himself, and finally just collapsed onto the table. Izzy wasn’t looking too good by that time either. He hadn’t said much all evening, but now he just mumbled "Fuck," and collapsed onto Dwight.

"That’s good whiskey," Carnie smiled. "But it looks like these guys can’t handle it very well."

By now, I had a pretty good idea of what was really going on. "You might have a point," I nodded, with a little grin on my face.

"I might at that," he smiled. "Some of you guys like to help me get these boys out of here? I think we’d better send them on their way."

With a couple drivers on each of them, we hauled them outside. "Mel," Carnie asked. "You remember which car is Dwight’s?"

"Yeah, I think so," I grinned.

"Jeez, Carnie," Dewey piped up. "What did you do to them?"

"Oh, they just had a little visit from Mr. Michael Finnegan," he grinned, rolling Dwight on his side so he could get at his wallet and the crap in his pockets. He pulled out the wallet, emptied the cash from it – not very much – and handed the stuff to me.

"You look like you’ve done this before," I grinned. "Where’d you learn how to roll a drunk?"

"At my mother’s knee, my boy," Carnie grinned. "She was always careful about teaching me the finer points of life. She never did it too often, no more than once or twice a week. You just want to dump ’em in their car, or give ’em another one of those Railway Express jobs?"

"Railway Express, I think," I smiled. "I don’t think I’d care to be around when they come around in the morning."

"Me, either," he said. "These guys are awful big and I didn’t want to under-dose them, so it may be a little longer than just tomorrow morning before they come to. When they do, their heads are going to feel like they’ve been used as a clapper in a church bell and their pants are going to be full of shit. I don’t think I want to smell that."

"Definitely Railway Express," Dewey grinned. "There any good train tracks around here?"

"If we’re going to ship them out by rail, there’s hardly a better place," Carnie laughed. "The Pennsy exchanges coast to coast hotshot freights with the Chicago Northwestern here. I don’t see them coming to this side of Omaha, and Cheyenne isn’t out of the question."

"Maybe we ought to put one of them on an eastbound, and one on a westbound," Dewey suggested.

"M’boy, I like the way you think," Carnie grinned. "But then, the story is that this was your idea in the first place, wasn’t it?"

"Well, yeah," Dewey laughed. "I think I beat Spud by as much as a tenth of a second."

By that time, Carnie had rolled both the guys. I took their wallets and stuff over to their car – it still had all four fenders bashed – and locked them inside. By the time I got back, both of the guys had been loaded into the back of the pickup. "Mel, why don’t you and Dewey help me with these guys? I’ll see the rest of you back at the motel."

It turned out that the switching yard wasn’t far away. There was an eastbound just hooking up on the departure track, and we found an empty boxcar for Izzy. He was rolling towards New York or some other eastern point before we made it to the westbound departure track. "Well, he’s off on another adventure. Maybe we’ll get lucky," Dewey said as we loaded Dwight into a handy boxcar. "He might get to go clear to San Francisco."

"I doubt he’ll get that far," I said. "But then, I figured he’d never get farther than Memphis last time. A Mississippi chain gang was just icing on the cake."

The westbound train rolled out a few minutes later. I remember it had a big old steam engine on it, and the sound of that whistle just filled the night. I’d often heard that sound in the past, and it always had made me want to be on that train heading wherever it was heading, just to see what was out there. Not this time, though – and not like Dwight.

We headed back to the bar to pick up Carnie’s car. "I think you better go tell Lillian what happened," I told him. "Especially since she’s probably sitting on that bed with your .38 in her hand waiting for Dwight to show up."

"Right," Dewey agreed with a huge grin on his face. "And I’m sure she’ll want to thank you."

We didn’t see Carnie and Lillian the rest of the night, nor the next morning when we hauled out of the track where we’d run the night before. We didn’t wait around, since we had a long haul that day, clear over into eastern Iowa somewhere. There was some discussion about how Lillian must have been really grateful, but then Carnie ran his own schedule and it didn’t always match ours.

They did catch up with us that evening. Lillian seemed quiet and thoughtful, although I didn’t get much chance to reflect on it since we were getting ready to run the race. I know I didn’t win that night; in fact, I was one of the first on the trailer. It had been a tough race and the run of it just hadn’t gone my way. I was getting my coveralls off and looking forward to heading over to the water trailer to wash some of the dirt off my face when she came up to me. "Mel," she said, "Can I spend the night with you tonight?"

"Sure," I said. "But isn’t it kind of out of order?"

"Well, yeah," she said. "But I want to thank you for what you did last night. That makes it special."

"I guess, so long as nobody else bitches about it," I told her.

"If they do they’re going to lose their turn," she grinned.

I guess nobody griped about it, because Lillian was with me that evening. I guess it must have been a dry county, so we headed right back to the tourist court after the race. I took a shower to get the track dirt off of me, as I always did when I was with her. Pretty soon we were in bed, and I was playing with that luscious body of hers.

After it was over with, we just lay in bed and shared a cigarette. "You know, Mel," she said finally. "I’m going to miss that."

"Miss that?" I asked. "Are you leaving us?"

"Yeah, pretty soon," she whispered. "Carnie and I had a long talk about it today. As long as I’m with you guys Dwight will be able to track me down."

"I don’t know," I told her. "I think he got lucky this time. Besides, he doesn’t know for sure that you’re with us."

"That’s probably true," she said, sucking in a long drag off of the cigarette. "But if you think he was pissed this time, think about how pissed he must be right now. According to Carnie, he ought to be waking up right about now with a hell of a headache and his pants full of shit. That must have been one hell of a mickey that Carnie slipped him."

"Carnie said he didn’t hold back," I snickered. "He said a gun ain’t always the answer to things, and I think he pretty well proved it. But I do imagine that Dwight is probably a bit upset with us right about now. At least they don’t have chain gangs where he’s headed this time."

"That just means he may be back more quickly," she sighed. "What happens if I don’t spot him first next time? He’s going to blow up even worse. Hell, he might start shooting first. I’m scared to risk it."

"There is the possibility that he may have learned his lesson this time," I pointed out.

"It could happen," she nodded. "But I doubt it."

"Well, yeah," I said. "You’re probably right at that. He doesn’t seem to be overly equipped in the brains department."

"That’s my point," she said. "I know it leaves you guys hanging in more ways than one, but I’m thinking that it’d be better if I wasn’t with you. Carnie said that sooner or later we’re going to run into someone at some carnival that he really trusts, and that maybe I could go with them." She took another long drag on her cigarette, and continued, "Let’s face it, Mel. I’m not cut out to be some stay at home woman that sticks to one man. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from you guys it’s that I like to be on the move. Every time we pull into some little town I ask myself if this is some place I might like to stay, and the answer is always no. Some places are better than others, but right now there isn’t anything that makes me want to stay in one place. Maybe that will come someday, but I don’t know. A carnival seems like it might be a halfway decent idea for now."

"Well, if you feel like you have to leave, I guess you feel like you have to leave," I said, reaching for words. In only a few weeks Lillian seemed to have become a fixture with us. She hadn’t been part of us like Hattie had been, but I guess she had been, in her own way. "We’re going to miss you. All of us."

"I know," she sighed. "I’m going to miss you, too. This carnival deal isn’t going to last forever, since their season runs out not long after yours does. I think I may head down to Florida and try to find some place to hole up for a while, and see if I can stand to stay in one place. After that, who knows? I may catch up with you in the spring."

"Well, damn," I said. "When are you leaving?"

"Pretty soon, like I said," she said. "As soon as Carnie finds the right place for me to go. This is probably going to be our last night, Mel. I’m going to try to work my way as far through the crew as I can, but when the chance comes to go, I’m gone. So, if you want to fuck me again, it’s going to have to be tonight."

I rode her again right after that, and after another cigarette we had another go around. We had a good if short night’s sleep together, and I rode her one last time in the morning, trying to make it the best I could for the both of us. "Thanks, Mel," she said as we got around in the morning. "You’ve been sweet. All of you, but you especially. You guys saved my life, because I’m pretty sure that fucker would have killed me sooner or later."

"You know, last night I was saying that you don’t have to go."

"I know you were," she nodded. "I think I have to go, though. Sooner or later one of you guys are going to fall in love with me, and I think you may be the closest. Mel, you’re a nice guy, you deserve a decent woman, not a whore like me. Maybe you ought to think about hanging it up and getting on with your life."

"I always think about it this time of year," I said. "Just before we have to hole up for the winter. By the time spring comes, I’m ready to go on the road again."

"That’ll pass, Mel. You have to grow up sometime."

I don’t know who Lillian rode with that day – she shifted around among the cars and trucks about the same way that she shifted around among the guys. I also can’t remember who rode with me that day, except that there were probably two with me since we were pretty well cramped into the front seat of the Ford as usual. I know I thought an awful lot about what she had said.

It wasn’t like I hadn’t done it before. After all, I was a college graduate with both a Wisconsin and Michigan teaching certificate – I’d picked up the latter just as a part of the paperwork when I filled in teaching auto shop the previous winter. It wasn’t like there wasn’t something better that I could do. I knew the situation for being hired as a teacher had improved in the two years and a bit that I’d been out of college, and from what little I could pick up here and there it was only going to get better in the next few years. I liked the life that I had, the travel, the excitement, but right about then I was ready to stay in one place for a little while. By then it was getting on toward the middle of October, so our season wouldn’t be lasting too much longer. I thought that maybe when I was substitute teaching that winter, I might just keep my eyes open for a place that I might like to stay a little more permanently. I didn’t think I was quite ready to settle down yet, though, but I could see the time coming.

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