The sorbet was sour lemon, appropriate for her family she thought. One-eyed Ivan put-together this shindig, connections with the hotel, “most likely in the kitchen,” Joe, the Tall Man, chortled, referring no doubt to Aunt Sadie, the Fat Lady. (Joe was a second cousin who had an act in the side-show as “THE RUBBER BAND MAN.” It was a big con; he was just flexible.) Uncle Ivan had lost his eye, early on, as a “Barker” who got too close to a kid trying to knock down empty milk bottles with a fast ball. “That’s okay,” Uncle Ivan would say, tapping the side of his forehead, “Don’t need two eyes, just good sense, to run a carnival.” My job’s the high wire; well, that’s what we call it. Our operation is too small for anything that HIGH, which made our reunion at a Las Vegas Hotel even more remarkable. We’re a small group, takes 10 artists to run our show, but a couple of great-aunts are flying in from Chicago. Wouldn’t you know, Uncle Ivan combined business with pleasure, a family reunion and “Corporate Take-Over.” Las Vegas is a comfortable fit for carnies and con artists.
snags shiny bits in its beak
treasures for the nest