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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Drama / Human Interest
- Subject: Inspirational / Uplifting
- Published: 05/11/2023
Roadside Attraction
Born 1948, M, from Melbourne Beach, Fl, United StatesRoadside Attraction
James R. Nelson
This story was inspired by my novel, Menagerie of Broken Dreams.
County Commissioner Clyde Studebaker drove along a bumpy dirt road seven miles outside the small central Florida town of Blue Cove Springs. A swamp filled with flat, black water was on his right. Several alligators sunned themselves on the muddy bank next to the road.
He glanced at his fuel gauge. It registered a quarter tank. This was no place to run out of gas. Dark clouds swept in from the west. He hoped he could find the girl and deliver his message before the rain hit. She wouldn’t be happy, but he had a job to do. There was no way that freak show could open again. The town had breathed a sigh of relief when it closed down six years before. Now, here they were, trying to reopen.
Clyde parked in a weed covered lot and glanced down at his papers. Savannah Blanchard. How the hell was he going to find her? He stepped out of the car and walked up to a group of men. A very small man, the smallest person he had ever seen, was barking out orders. Clyde stifled a laugh.
A dusty black fedora perched on the small man’s head bobbed up and down as he directed them. “Now, Jake, go check that the ticket booth’s ready. Tommy, see that all the big canvas posters are up. Make sure they’re secured. We don’t want ‘em flying away every time it gets windy. They cost a fortune. They were hand painted just outside of Gibtown.”
Tiny noticed the man with the white shirt and tie. “Can I help you?”
The man looked down. “Ah, I hope so. My name’s Clyde Studebaker. I’m looking for a woman named Savannah Blanchard.”
“Nice to meet you.” He reached up and offered his hand. “I’m Tiny.” He smiled. “No shit, right. Well, that’s what they call me around here.”
Clyde made no effort to shake his hand.
Tiny frowned and pulled back his arm. He looked over at the parking lot.
“Studebaker, eh? But you’re driving a Chevy. Now that’s interesting.” He turned back. “Anyway, she’s over at the trailer. Come on. I’ll show you.” They walked between several large tents, past a brightly painted popcorn wagon and a huge elephant tethered to a spike in the ground.
Once inside the trailer, Clyde introduced himself. He tried not to stare at Savannah Blanchard. Her face was beautiful. Strikingly beautiful, but from the neck down, her skin was scaly. Not rough and bumpy like those gators he had seen on the side of the road, but smooth like a snake. She wore a flimsy top with narrow straps. There was no attempt to cover herself up.
“What you got there, Mr. Studebaker?” She reached for the papers he was handing her.
Clyde’s eyes widened. He stepped back. Her nails had been filed to sharp points and painted black. Those nails, sticking out of the snakeskin-like hand, made his knees buckle. Sweat popped out on his forehead. He steadied himself and explained that the city council had second thoughts on the business permit they had approved. There was going to be an emergency hearing tomorrow. The attraction wouldn’t be allowed to open until the meeting was over.
Savannah glanced at the documents, shoved them back at him, and threw open the door. Bright sunlight blinded Clyde as he stumbled outside. She followed Tiny out and slammed the door behind her. “Have you looked around? We’ve cleaned up the place. Everyone’s over the moon at being able to work again and be gainfully employed. Just what is the problem?”
Clyde shifted from one foot to another, pulled out a big handkerchief, and wiped his brow. “It’s the town folk. They…they don’t like the thought of, well you know, you people starting up again.”
“Why? We’re seven miles from Blue Cove Springs. Nobody’s going to see us who doesn’t want to. I’ll tell you what, you’ll be hearing from my attorney. You’d better be able to point to a specific code ordinance before you shut us down. We’re going to open tomorrow as planned. It’s a soft opening to get the kinks out. So, just so you know, we’re not official. You can send in the authorities if you like, but it’s really not an official opening.”
As Clyde shoved his handkerchief back into his pocket, heavy footsteps sounded behind him. A shadow darkened the area as a huge man walked up. “Is there a problem, Savannah?”
“I guess so, Gaston. Seems like the city fathers are trying to delay our opening.”
Clyde stared up at the man’s immense height. At over eight feet tall, the giant was quite imposing when he was standing so close.
“This gentleman tells me the city council is reviewing our permit. We have to meet with them tomorrow. There’s a chance they may shut us down.”
Gaston bent over and stared directly into the man’s face. His deep voice rumbled, “Are you serious? After all the work and money we’ve put back into this place? You…you’d have the audacity to put these fine people out of work?”
Clyde turned toward the parking lot. “Like I already told the lady, I wouldn’t be opening those gates tomorrow.” He took a few steps toward his car. “There’s more than a few ways to get you outta here.”
Gaston bellowed, “Is that a threat?”
The man glanced over his shoulder and hurried to his car.
After he left, Gaston asked, “What do you want to do? Should I tell the folks?”
Savannah shook her head. “No. They don’t need to be worrying about this. They’ve got a lot to do before we open the gates tomorrow.” She winked. "Unofficially, that is.”
Tiny pulled off his fedora and threw it to the ground. “I had all I could do not to kick that son-of-a-bitch in the shins.”
Savannah turned back toward the trailer. “I’m calling my attorney in Atlanta. He’ll know how to deal with these small-minded jerks.” She pulled open the door and sat down behind a cluttered desk. She didn’t need this now. Not that she hadn’t been expecting it. When the thought crossed her mind about putting the Menagerie of Human Oddities attraction back together again, she knew there would be resistance.
Freak shows were out of style. You couldn’t even use that name anymore. Society frowned on it. But society had no problem taking away the ability of those very same people, people who were different, from making a living. The do-gooders had been laser focused on closing down all the carnival shows because it wasn’t polite to stare at those who were odd. Apparently, they didn’t think sweeping them to the dark corners of oblivion where they couldn’t make a decent living was worse than being stared at. She picked up the phone and dialed the attorney’s number. Where the hell was Helen the pinhead supposed to find a job? Macys?
Savannah knew. She had lived her whole life being stared at. Ever since she could remember, she’d been the “alligator girl” or “snake-girl” in various circuses and roadside attractions because of her genetic skin condition. It never bothered her. In fact, she thrived on it. She played it up to the hilt by what she had done to her fingernails. She was a natural beauty. A natural beauty that was also strong willed and confident.
The enormous inheritance she had received from her father’s estate, the man who had dropped her off at a sideshow when she was young, had done little to ease the guilt and pain she felt when the old Menagerie of Human Oddities had ceased to exist. Suddenly unemployed, the remaining side show performers were scattered to stinking hovels across the country.
But now, Savannah had finally rounded them up. All but one had been eager to return to the roadside attraction. Gaston Chevalier, a real life giant, had been eking out a living trying to sell used cars in a small town outside Quebec.
She had located Freddy Jasper, the lobster boy, in the drunk tank near Gibson, Florida, the famous winter stopping off point for many circuses. Savannah insisted he enroll in AA before she’d let him return. He agreed. Now he couldn’t wait to start his act again. The various other performers were living lives so horrendous Savannah couldn’t bear to think about them.
Two hours later, as dusk began to fade to night, Tiny put down his paintbrush. He’d done it. Finished painting the ring toss game before it got dark. He turned as headlights lit up the dark tangle of mangrove and cypress trees surrounding the parking area. A young man stepped out of a battered truck and headed his way. Tiny pounded the lid back onto the can of paint and waited. Please, not more bad news.
“Do you know where I can find Savannah, the alligator girl?”
“What’s this about? Are you from the county?”
The young man looked surprised. “County? No, my name’s Jeremy Franklin. She knows me. I met her ten years ago. It’s a long story. But believe me, I’m not from the county.”
Tiny squinted. “You sure about that?”
“Yes. You guys were featured on the national news the other night. How you’re going against the norm and offering employment to…um, you know, you folks. When I saw Savannah, I just had to come by and say hello. I drove two days to get here. Please, I won’t take up much of her time.”
“Okay. Follow me.” Tiny glanced down at the man’s shins. “You better be telling me the truth.”
A few minutes later, Tiny walked up the small wooden porch to the trailer and knocked.
Savannah was holding a glass of wine when the door opened.
“This guy here says you know him. Something about driving two days just to see you. Do you know him?”
She stared at the person behind Tiny for a few moments, then shook her head. “No. Can’t say that I do.”
The young man leaned closer. “Savannah, it’s me, Jeremy. I was the kid who had a crush on you ten years ago. I kept dropping off cards for you every day. You saved me from a beating from my father. Remember? You even sent me a poster.”
A big smile broke out across her face. She stepped out of the trailer and wrapped him in her arms. “Jeremy! I’ve thought about you so many times.” She backed up and looked at him. “Damn, you’re a grown man now. Come in, come in.”
She poured her visitors each a glass of wine and then looked over at Jeremy. “What a nice surprise. Tell me about yourself. What do you do?”
“I’m going to college at Bowling Green University in Ohio.”
“Really? Why Ohio?”
Jeremy grinned. “It’s the only place that would give me a scholarship. And they’ve got a good marketing program.”
There was a commotion on the porch. The door flew open. Jake stuck his head in and yelled, “We got some kid roaming around the lot. Looks like he’s got a can of gas.”
Savannah jumped up. “I’m coming. Tiny, run and get Gaston. We need to catch him before he does something stupid.” On her way out the door, she yelled, “Stay here, Jeremy. I’ll be right back.”
“No, I’m coming with you.”
As Savannah made her way to the attractions, she spotted someone pouring gasoline on the wooden poles that held up the circus posters. She yelled, “Stop! You don’t know what you’re doing. That gas is going to—”
Before she could finish her sentence, the boy pulled out a pack of matches, lit one, and tossed it on the ground. Immediately, there was an explosion. The kid went flying backwards in a ball of fire.
By the time Savannah got to him, he was screaming and rolling around on the ground. She frantically looked for something to use to put out the flames. An old burlap sack lay in a pool of water. She grabbed it and used it to start pounding out the fire that engulfed him. Hot tongues of heat licked around her fingers. She pulled back for a moment and then continued to beat on the boy.
Gaston, Jake, and Tiny ran up. Jake had a pumping container filled with water. He moved closer, dowsed the boy, and then directed the stream onto the burning poles.
As Jeremy approached, Savannah called to him, “Run back to the trailer and call 911. This kid’s in bad shape.”
The next day at the city council meeting, Clyde Studebaker banged his gavel. “Ladies and gentlemen, this meeting is about to begin.” He glared at Savannah and the people sitting next to her for a few moments and then looked out over the crowd. “As we all know, the purpose of this evening’s meeting was to attempt to stop the opening of the Menagerie of Human Oddities roadside attraction out near Blue Cove Springs.”
He looked down at his notes. His hand began to tremble. “I’ve…I’ve been in contact with a lawyer from Atlanta, and unless we want to face a certain lawsuit, and the expense that it will entail, I’m afraid we don’t have much choice in the matter. The attraction must remain.”
Loud boo’s emanated from the audience, along with more than a few derogatory remarks.
Clyde raised his hand. “Please. Keep it down. I’m not done.” Again, he stared down at Savannah and her crew. “I know I was all for shutting these folks down. But recently there have been a few developments that you need to know about. This afternoon I was visited by a young man who had a story he wanted me to hear. He told me that ten years ago, when he was only twelve years old, he visited a circus in his hometown where Savannah Blanchard was performing. The young man visited her several times. Actually, he became infatuated with her. Anyway, to make a long story short, one night his father showed up and was about to beat the young boy with a belt right there on the midway. Savannah jumped in, stopped the attack, got the boy to safety, and called child protective services. The man went to jail. When they investigated, they found evidence of abuse, on not just the boy, but his sister too.”
The room became silent.
Clyde reached in his back pocket, pulled out his handkerchief, and set it next to his papers. “There’s more. Last night, my son, Darrell, at my urging, drove over to the attraction and attempted to burn it to the ground.”
Clyde picked up the handkerchief and wiped his face. “In…in the process, there was an explosion and…Darrell became engulfed in flames.” He stopped and blinked a few times. His hands tightly gripped the podium. “The woman you see sitting in front of me with bandages covering both hands, Savannah Blanchard, jumped in and saved him. He’s burned. Burned up real bad. But the doctors at the hospital told me he would have never made it without the help of that woman. She’s responsible for my son’s survival.”
A tear slowly drifted down his cheek. “Another thing. The young man explained to me how the attraction we were so gung-ho about shutting down, is actually a lifeline for the people who work there. We think it’s cruel that they get stared at. They don’t. They know they’re different. So different that it’s impossible for most of them to make a decent living. Why deprive them of that if we don’t have to? I know many of you won’t agree with me, but I say it’s about time we welcome them into our community and support their attraction.” He stepped back. “That’s it. That’s all I got to say.” There was a smattering of applause as he moved over to the end of the stage.
Savannah turned to Jeremy. “So that’s where you went this afternoon.”
He smiled. “I had to tell him what you did for me. At first, he didn’t want to listen. But I wouldn’t leave until he heard me out.”
She looked over at the crowd as they gawked at Gaston the giant, Helen the pinhead, Freddy the lobster boy, and Tiny. “Let’s get out of here.”
As they stepped out into the humid Florida night, she stopped. “I got an idea.”
“What?”
“You’re studying marketing, right?”
Jeremy nodded.
“We could use your help. Let’s put our heads together and see if we can turn these friends of mine, these survivors into thrivers.”
“Let’s do it. I need to come up with a class project. Sounds perfect to me. I can’t wait to spring this on my professor.”
Two burly policemen stepped out, one on each side of Clyde Studebaker. His hands were cuffed behind his back.
“What’s that all about?” Jeremy asked.
“Arrested for arson, I hope. Maybe there is justice for our kind of people after all.” She took Jeremy’s hand. “Come on, Mr. Marketing Man. You’ve got work to do.”
Roadside Attraction(James Nelson)
Roadside Attraction
James R. Nelson
This story was inspired by my novel, Menagerie of Broken Dreams.
County Commissioner Clyde Studebaker drove along a bumpy dirt road seven miles outside the small central Florida town of Blue Cove Springs. A swamp filled with flat, black water was on his right. Several alligators sunned themselves on the muddy bank next to the road.
He glanced at his fuel gauge. It registered a quarter tank. This was no place to run out of gas. Dark clouds swept in from the west. He hoped he could find the girl and deliver his message before the rain hit. She wouldn’t be happy, but he had a job to do. There was no way that freak show could open again. The town had breathed a sigh of relief when it closed down six years before. Now, here they were, trying to reopen.
Clyde parked in a weed covered lot and glanced down at his papers. Savannah Blanchard. How the hell was he going to find her? He stepped out of the car and walked up to a group of men. A very small man, the smallest person he had ever seen, was barking out orders. Clyde stifled a laugh.
A dusty black fedora perched on the small man’s head bobbed up and down as he directed them. “Now, Jake, go check that the ticket booth’s ready. Tommy, see that all the big canvas posters are up. Make sure they’re secured. We don’t want ‘em flying away every time it gets windy. They cost a fortune. They were hand painted just outside of Gibtown.”
Tiny noticed the man with the white shirt and tie. “Can I help you?”
The man looked down. “Ah, I hope so. My name’s Clyde Studebaker. I’m looking for a woman named Savannah Blanchard.”
“Nice to meet you.” He reached up and offered his hand. “I’m Tiny.” He smiled. “No shit, right. Well, that’s what they call me around here.”
Clyde made no effort to shake his hand.
Tiny frowned and pulled back his arm. He looked over at the parking lot.
“Studebaker, eh? But you’re driving a Chevy. Now that’s interesting.” He turned back. “Anyway, she’s over at the trailer. Come on. I’ll show you.” They walked between several large tents, past a brightly painted popcorn wagon and a huge elephant tethered to a spike in the ground.
Once inside the trailer, Clyde introduced himself. He tried not to stare at Savannah Blanchard. Her face was beautiful. Strikingly beautiful, but from the neck down, her skin was scaly. Not rough and bumpy like those gators he had seen on the side of the road, but smooth like a snake. She wore a flimsy top with narrow straps. There was no attempt to cover herself up.
“What you got there, Mr. Studebaker?” She reached for the papers he was handing her.
Clyde’s eyes widened. He stepped back. Her nails had been filed to sharp points and painted black. Those nails, sticking out of the snakeskin-like hand, made his knees buckle. Sweat popped out on his forehead. He steadied himself and explained that the city council had second thoughts on the business permit they had approved. There was going to be an emergency hearing tomorrow. The attraction wouldn’t be allowed to open until the meeting was over.
Savannah glanced at the documents, shoved them back at him, and threw open the door. Bright sunlight blinded Clyde as he stumbled outside. She followed Tiny out and slammed the door behind her. “Have you looked around? We’ve cleaned up the place. Everyone’s over the moon at being able to work again and be gainfully employed. Just what is the problem?”
Clyde shifted from one foot to another, pulled out a big handkerchief, and wiped his brow. “It’s the town folk. They…they don’t like the thought of, well you know, you people starting up again.”
“Why? We’re seven miles from Blue Cove Springs. Nobody’s going to see us who doesn’t want to. I’ll tell you what, you’ll be hearing from my attorney. You’d better be able to point to a specific code ordinance before you shut us down. We’re going to open tomorrow as planned. It’s a soft opening to get the kinks out. So, just so you know, we’re not official. You can send in the authorities if you like, but it’s really not an official opening.”
As Clyde shoved his handkerchief back into his pocket, heavy footsteps sounded behind him. A shadow darkened the area as a huge man walked up. “Is there a problem, Savannah?”
“I guess so, Gaston. Seems like the city fathers are trying to delay our opening.”
Clyde stared up at the man’s immense height. At over eight feet tall, the giant was quite imposing when he was standing so close.
“This gentleman tells me the city council is reviewing our permit. We have to meet with them tomorrow. There’s a chance they may shut us down.”
Gaston bent over and stared directly into the man’s face. His deep voice rumbled, “Are you serious? After all the work and money we’ve put back into this place? You…you’d have the audacity to put these fine people out of work?”
Clyde turned toward the parking lot. “Like I already told the lady, I wouldn’t be opening those gates tomorrow.” He took a few steps toward his car. “There’s more than a few ways to get you outta here.”
Gaston bellowed, “Is that a threat?”
The man glanced over his shoulder and hurried to his car.
After he left, Gaston asked, “What do you want to do? Should I tell the folks?”
Savannah shook her head. “No. They don’t need to be worrying about this. They’ve got a lot to do before we open the gates tomorrow.” She winked. "Unofficially, that is.”
Tiny pulled off his fedora and threw it to the ground. “I had all I could do not to kick that son-of-a-bitch in the shins.”
Savannah turned back toward the trailer. “I’m calling my attorney in Atlanta. He’ll know how to deal with these small-minded jerks.” She pulled open the door and sat down behind a cluttered desk. She didn’t need this now. Not that she hadn’t been expecting it. When the thought crossed her mind about putting the Menagerie of Human Oddities attraction back together again, she knew there would be resistance.
Freak shows were out of style. You couldn’t even use that name anymore. Society frowned on it. But society had no problem taking away the ability of those very same people, people who were different, from making a living. The do-gooders had been laser focused on closing down all the carnival shows because it wasn’t polite to stare at those who were odd. Apparently, they didn’t think sweeping them to the dark corners of oblivion where they couldn’t make a decent living was worse than being stared at. She picked up the phone and dialed the attorney’s number. Where the hell was Helen the pinhead supposed to find a job? Macys?
Savannah knew. She had lived her whole life being stared at. Ever since she could remember, she’d been the “alligator girl” or “snake-girl” in various circuses and roadside attractions because of her genetic skin condition. It never bothered her. In fact, she thrived on it. She played it up to the hilt by what she had done to her fingernails. She was a natural beauty. A natural beauty that was also strong willed and confident.
The enormous inheritance she had received from her father’s estate, the man who had dropped her off at a sideshow when she was young, had done little to ease the guilt and pain she felt when the old Menagerie of Human Oddities had ceased to exist. Suddenly unemployed, the remaining side show performers were scattered to stinking hovels across the country.
But now, Savannah had finally rounded them up. All but one had been eager to return to the roadside attraction. Gaston Chevalier, a real life giant, had been eking out a living trying to sell used cars in a small town outside Quebec.
She had located Freddy Jasper, the lobster boy, in the drunk tank near Gibson, Florida, the famous winter stopping off point for many circuses. Savannah insisted he enroll in AA before she’d let him return. He agreed. Now he couldn’t wait to start his act again. The various other performers were living lives so horrendous Savannah couldn’t bear to think about them.
Two hours later, as dusk began to fade to night, Tiny put down his paintbrush. He’d done it. Finished painting the ring toss game before it got dark. He turned as headlights lit up the dark tangle of mangrove and cypress trees surrounding the parking area. A young man stepped out of a battered truck and headed his way. Tiny pounded the lid back onto the can of paint and waited. Please, not more bad news.
“Do you know where I can find Savannah, the alligator girl?”
“What’s this about? Are you from the county?”
The young man looked surprised. “County? No, my name’s Jeremy Franklin. She knows me. I met her ten years ago. It’s a long story. But believe me, I’m not from the county.”
Tiny squinted. “You sure about that?”
“Yes. You guys were featured on the national news the other night. How you’re going against the norm and offering employment to…um, you know, you folks. When I saw Savannah, I just had to come by and say hello. I drove two days to get here. Please, I won’t take up much of her time.”
“Okay. Follow me.” Tiny glanced down at the man’s shins. “You better be telling me the truth.”
A few minutes later, Tiny walked up the small wooden porch to the trailer and knocked.
Savannah was holding a glass of wine when the door opened.
“This guy here says you know him. Something about driving two days just to see you. Do you know him?”
She stared at the person behind Tiny for a few moments, then shook her head. “No. Can’t say that I do.”
The young man leaned closer. “Savannah, it’s me, Jeremy. I was the kid who had a crush on you ten years ago. I kept dropping off cards for you every day. You saved me from a beating from my father. Remember? You even sent me a poster.”
A big smile broke out across her face. She stepped out of the trailer and wrapped him in her arms. “Jeremy! I’ve thought about you so many times.” She backed up and looked at him. “Damn, you’re a grown man now. Come in, come in.”
She poured her visitors each a glass of wine and then looked over at Jeremy. “What a nice surprise. Tell me about yourself. What do you do?”
“I’m going to college at Bowling Green University in Ohio.”
“Really? Why Ohio?”
Jeremy grinned. “It’s the only place that would give me a scholarship. And they’ve got a good marketing program.”
There was a commotion on the porch. The door flew open. Jake stuck his head in and yelled, “We got some kid roaming around the lot. Looks like he’s got a can of gas.”
Savannah jumped up. “I’m coming. Tiny, run and get Gaston. We need to catch him before he does something stupid.” On her way out the door, she yelled, “Stay here, Jeremy. I’ll be right back.”
“No, I’m coming with you.”
As Savannah made her way to the attractions, she spotted someone pouring gasoline on the wooden poles that held up the circus posters. She yelled, “Stop! You don’t know what you’re doing. That gas is going to—”
Before she could finish her sentence, the boy pulled out a pack of matches, lit one, and tossed it on the ground. Immediately, there was an explosion. The kid went flying backwards in a ball of fire.
By the time Savannah got to him, he was screaming and rolling around on the ground. She frantically looked for something to use to put out the flames. An old burlap sack lay in a pool of water. She grabbed it and used it to start pounding out the fire that engulfed him. Hot tongues of heat licked around her fingers. She pulled back for a moment and then continued to beat on the boy.
Gaston, Jake, and Tiny ran up. Jake had a pumping container filled with water. He moved closer, dowsed the boy, and then directed the stream onto the burning poles.
As Jeremy approached, Savannah called to him, “Run back to the trailer and call 911. This kid’s in bad shape.”
The next day at the city council meeting, Clyde Studebaker banged his gavel. “Ladies and gentlemen, this meeting is about to begin.” He glared at Savannah and the people sitting next to her for a few moments and then looked out over the crowd. “As we all know, the purpose of this evening’s meeting was to attempt to stop the opening of the Menagerie of Human Oddities roadside attraction out near Blue Cove Springs.”
He looked down at his notes. His hand began to tremble. “I’ve…I’ve been in contact with a lawyer from Atlanta, and unless we want to face a certain lawsuit, and the expense that it will entail, I’m afraid we don’t have much choice in the matter. The attraction must remain.”
Loud boo’s emanated from the audience, along with more than a few derogatory remarks.
Clyde raised his hand. “Please. Keep it down. I’m not done.” Again, he stared down at Savannah and her crew. “I know I was all for shutting these folks down. But recently there have been a few developments that you need to know about. This afternoon I was visited by a young man who had a story he wanted me to hear. He told me that ten years ago, when he was only twelve years old, he visited a circus in his hometown where Savannah Blanchard was performing. The young man visited her several times. Actually, he became infatuated with her. Anyway, to make a long story short, one night his father showed up and was about to beat the young boy with a belt right there on the midway. Savannah jumped in, stopped the attack, got the boy to safety, and called child protective services. The man went to jail. When they investigated, they found evidence of abuse, on not just the boy, but his sister too.”
The room became silent.
Clyde reached in his back pocket, pulled out his handkerchief, and set it next to his papers. “There’s more. Last night, my son, Darrell, at my urging, drove over to the attraction and attempted to burn it to the ground.”
Clyde picked up the handkerchief and wiped his face. “In…in the process, there was an explosion and…Darrell became engulfed in flames.” He stopped and blinked a few times. His hands tightly gripped the podium. “The woman you see sitting in front of me with bandages covering both hands, Savannah Blanchard, jumped in and saved him. He’s burned. Burned up real bad. But the doctors at the hospital told me he would have never made it without the help of that woman. She’s responsible for my son’s survival.”
A tear slowly drifted down his cheek. “Another thing. The young man explained to me how the attraction we were so gung-ho about shutting down, is actually a lifeline for the people who work there. We think it’s cruel that they get stared at. They don’t. They know they’re different. So different that it’s impossible for most of them to make a decent living. Why deprive them of that if we don’t have to? I know many of you won’t agree with me, but I say it’s about time we welcome them into our community and support their attraction.” He stepped back. “That’s it. That’s all I got to say.” There was a smattering of applause as he moved over to the end of the stage.
Savannah turned to Jeremy. “So that’s where you went this afternoon.”
He smiled. “I had to tell him what you did for me. At first, he didn’t want to listen. But I wouldn’t leave until he heard me out.”
She looked over at the crowd as they gawked at Gaston the giant, Helen the pinhead, Freddy the lobster boy, and Tiny. “Let’s get out of here.”
As they stepped out into the humid Florida night, she stopped. “I got an idea.”
“What?”
“You’re studying marketing, right?”
Jeremy nodded.
“We could use your help. Let’s put our heads together and see if we can turn these friends of mine, these survivors into thrivers.”
“Let’s do it. I need to come up with a class project. Sounds perfect to me. I can’t wait to spring this on my professor.”
Two burly policemen stepped out, one on each side of Clyde Studebaker. His hands were cuffed behind his back.
“What’s that all about?” Jeremy asked.
“Arrested for arson, I hope. Maybe there is justice for our kind of people after all.” She took Jeremy’s hand. “Come on, Mr. Marketing Man. You’ve got work to do.”
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