All through November, December, and into the new year, people came. The three men from the fishing village, Maffeo, Louis, and Charles, who watched the desertion of the camp under Corriden agreed to work as roustabouts and clowns for one season to see how they liked it. He had them all sign contracts to that end and tried hard not to call them Moe, Larry, and Curly. Needles dressed them in red, white, and blue clown costumes and told them to get used to wearing them, and don’t mess them up. After that, one of his first volunteers was the fourth man in the group who actually volunteered his wife. Borges was his name. He wore the green clown suit. His wife was Gabriella and his young daughter Rosa was about twelve. Borges explained.

“It’s my wife. She grew up in a big family where cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, parents, and children all lived and ate together. She herself is one of eight children, and the eldest girl. It was rough at first, let me tell you. We been married for thirteen years and she is still cooking for about twenty. Good food too, But, you see, she grew up cooking for about fifty people.”

“Forty-six,” Gabriella corrected her husband.

“Anyway,” He looked at her to keep her quiet. “I’m thinking fishing is hard. I agree with Maffeo, Louis, and Charles. I think we might like to try something different, and I figure you need someone who can keep the circus fed. Well, my wife can do that, easy.”

“And your daughter?”

“She can help,” Borges said, and Giovanni wondered if he might find another place for the girl. He immediately thought acrobat, but he would have to wait and see who showed up.

Giovanni turned to the woman. “What do you think?”

She did not bat an eye. “I think this is the place my whole life has been leading to. I love to cook. It is what I was born to do.”

That settled things very quickly and that was one more worry off Giovanni’s mind. The food was also as good as Borges promised, and better yet, Gabriella made something like cinnamon rolls, and something like funnel cakes. Giovanni very much wanted popcorn, but he knew he would have to wait about five hundred years for the new world to be discovered.

People came into the swamp over those months.

Rugello was a fire eater and sword swallower, and a bit of a pyromaniac so he had to be watched. Umberto was a contortionist who could fit himself into a small box. He was also high strung and tended to panic at the least provocation, far worse than Constantine who was more of a normal scaredy-cat. Umberto needed to be treated with kid gloves or he could not perform. Sadly, the only one to watch both Rugello and Umberto was Piccolo, an excellent juggler who was also a terrible practical joker.

“Not ideal,” he told Oberon, but he had little choice.

At the end of November, Vader the knife thrower came in with his wife and chief victim Edwina. He was good, and even pulled out a crossbow at the end to shoot the proverbial apple off his wife’s head. Unfortunately, he was the angry, jealous type of man who probably should not have been allowed to play with anything sharp.

The first week in December, Leonardo and Marta came riding in on beautiful white horses. Marta could stand on her horse and ride in a circle. They would have to get used to the big tent ring. Leonardo could make his horse walk backwards, and they could get both horses to stand on their hind legs. It was not quite an act and needed polish, but the elements were there. Besides, the horses were magnificent.

Giovanni said, “Yee-haw.”

The third week in December, Severas came barreling into the swamp driving a mule driven wagon that carried a great cage. The wife, Berta, got down with a look like she did not appreciate his driving techniques. Giovanni looked in the cage.

“You have a bear?”

“I do,” the man said. “He is very sleepy right now and that makes him grumpy, but I assure you he is a gentle beast and well trained.”

“What can he do?”

“Sir Brutus can sit, lie down, roll over all on command. He can stand, an imposing sight, and roar, also on command. he can also kick a ball and play catch.”

Giovanni merely nodded, and the sleepy bear got signed up mostly sight unseen.

Right after the new year, Giovanni got his wish. Portence, a middle aged mother showed up with her two sons and explained. “Their father was a great acrobat while he was alive and he taught the boys when they were young.

“We’ve been practicing,” one boy said, but his mother hushed him.

Giovanni crossed his fingers and took them into the barn where he had his ring set up.

Borges and the three stooges were presently practicing with the tents. They took the tents out in the morning and set them up. Getting the big tent set up so it would stay up was imperative. Doing it in a reasonably short time was also important. They had to get all the seats into the big tent and set up the circus show tent, and the smaller tent of wonders as well before lunch. After lunch, they took everything down and packed it for travel. Taking it all down in a reasonable time without tearing anything or straining the lumber was also imperative.

So, Giovanni set up the ring in the barn and watched as the boys did cartwheels, back handsprings, walked on their hands, and one did a back flip. Giovanni immediately called Rosa. He had worked with her a bit when he feared she might be his only choice. She did her cartwheel and three back handsprings in a row, ending with an imperfect landing, though she was pleased with herself.

Giovanni did not have to think twice. “Boys. Rose,” he said and made a point of including their mother, “And Lady Portence. We have a lot of work to do and only two months to do it.” He had a suggestion for Portence. “Why don’t you see what you can do to help Gabriella in the cooking area over there. Growing boys… and girls need to eat to stay strong, and the way this circus family is growing, Gabriella probably needs the help, and everyone works in the circus.”

Portence looked at her boys and nodded. She well understood everyone needing to pitch in. The boys were busy introducing themselves to Rosa. “Nicholi. Gergori,” they said. They looked about fifteen, or maybe Nicholi was sixteen.

“I’m Rosa.” That was all she needed to say, but she added with her smile, “I’m thirteen.” She was not quite thirteen yet.

The very next day, another wagon came into the camp. It was a wooden covered wagon looking a bit like an early Romani wagon where one might expect to find a bed inside. It was painted in bright colors, and the outside said Rostanzio the Magnificent. The man looked like he liked to eat, and his voice, plenty loud, echoed around the swamp.

“Here I am,” he said. “Come to save the day. I am Rostanzio, master of the mystical arts and purveyor of all magic. Allow me to introduce my wife and assistant Marie.” By contrast, Marie was a small woman and very skinny. “Allow me but a half hour of time to set up and I will demonstrate greatness, even as my father, the Great Migliore taught me.”

“Take your time,” Giovanni said, and by the time the man got everything set, he had a whole crowd of watchers. To be honest, he was a second-rate magician. The tricks worked well enough, but they were rather simple. when he finished, Giovanni said, “The circus needs a magician, but you need to work on an ending for the act. You need a boffo ending.”

“What is boffo?” he asked.

“Slam-bang great,” Giovanni answered.

Others came, though not many of them were added to the circus. Eventually, Giovanni found some more men to be his actual roustabouts, and they and their wives were trained to run the booths on the midway. They also practiced carrying things in and out of the circle as the acts changed. Finally, Giovanni appointed Borges, the green clown to be the head man and triple check the equipment and make sure the men changed the sets in record time.

Then he hoped to relax because by the end of January, he was exhausted. Naturally, that was when there was trouble.