17
Scarlett remembered the circus Michael had taken them to for Troy’s third birthday, one of the good times until the end, when the ringmaster screamed the praises of his pretty circus women, the lions roared, the clown waved at their son, and her husband cried.
The year was 1971 and April 17 was the first Saturday after Easter, when a small local fair played at the Beverley Bandstand not far from their home. Troy remembered it, too; the day his father sat with head in his broad tough hands and tears squeezed with great hulking gulps from between his fingers.
Their excursion started well. Getting to the Bandstand early, Michael parked their white Chevette, which had taken the place of the Sprite when Troy was born, on a graveled site in a nearby residential area and they walked a coupl
