Love at the Fair

All I’ve ever known my entire life is the Carni life. My dad's been a ride foreman since I was born. It’s in my DNA, my mom may have been a spot-hand greenie when he met her but she became loyal to my dad and his show family the day she found out she was pregnant with me. I’m Clarissa. I’m turning 18 in a few days and I’m going out to a new show this season to be free of my dad's tyranny and demands. I’ve done everything that man asked me for 18 years while getting an education and self-discipline for time management, something he lacked entirely. His lack of support and understanding had me seeking new shows to be employed at and applying while secretly working for his show and company. Mom passed away a couple of years ago due to liver failure, so I’m told I know it was the job and lack of medical care but what I know, is I’m a stupid Carni kid. I know that sounds terrible but life isn’t for the faint of heart, trust me on that. Only strong people survive and one has to learn quickly how to get stuff done with what you have to work with. I was raised on the fairways. I see a lot most people don’t know about until they’re in their twenties. The drugs alone passed along the ground would make a DEA agent proud of the takedown. We all have that one plug on the road that has a spot in every town we go to and you can’t ask questions, you keep your mouth shut and pass the cash, no cash, no Cush plain and simple. The amount of money used for drugs over food was astounding, to say the least, and background checks are rarely run on the crew so working with shady characters was the half of it. Scary at times, bad vibes were often enough. You learned quick who to trust and who to walk away from. When this small time show of 25 rides and 4 food joints and 6 game joints popped up looking for new hires with experience and clean backgrounds and drug tests, I took the opportunity to fill out a proper application for the first time in my life. I asked my dad for my birth certificate and social security card and he said he had no clue where my mother put them to help myself look through her belongings for them. It took me three days to weed through her jumble mess of notes and documents but I found them myself along with quite a few things about inheritance and finances that my dad clearly knew nothing about. My mother apparently came from a very wealthy family and was left with a substantial amount of money and property. I found her death certificate and information and stashed it all in the bags I was leaving with. I sat down with my dad on my birthday and asked him if he could read or write. His answer was what it always had been, what do I need all that for? I shook my head in defeat and asked him to sign a couple of documents. I found that I needed his signature and I quietly got up and walked away and never looked back. That’s the last time I spoke to him. …