Giovanni felt so tired and the bed looked so inviting. He glanced once again at the lineup. They were to head out in less than five weeks and all he could see was that they were not ready. They were only one month away from having to pack the wagons and head out on the road. He sighed. Theirs would not be the first show that had to work out the kinks on the road.

He heard a knock at the door. He was slow to rise and slower to answer. All he really wanted was sleep.

“Gabriellla.” He spoke through the open door at the back of the wagon, a wagon modeled after the one driven by Rostanzio the Magnificent. Giovanni was practicing sleeping in the wagon, and he thought, Everyone was practicing everything. The setting sun blazed red in the distance. “Maffeo!” He shouted before Gabriella could say anything. “Get those horses up for the night and tell Severas to get Sir Brutus in his cage and away from the fish. No one wants to see a bloated bear sleep through his performance.” The bear had been asleep for most of the winter, but woke now and then, and one time it got awake enough in January to show what he could do. Another act without a boffo ending, Giovanni thought.

“I hear you.” Severas answered with a shout. He was coming up the hill from the outhouse. Giovanni shook his head and wondered who was grumpier, Severas or his bear. The man was frankly a bit of a mean old man. It was a wonder his wife, Berta, puts up with them both.

“Maffeo!” He shouted again.

Maffeo slapped Charles and grabbed Louis by the ear. Giovanni was again reminded of the Three Stooges, but they caught the horse and he did not see any other animals around.

“Don Giovanni,” Gabriella grabbed his attention. “You must eat.” She pushed a bowl of fish and leeks into his hands. He was tired, not hungry, but he smiled.

“Thank you,” he said. “Since you have joined us I believe I’ve put on some weight.” Gabrielle and her husband Bergos were good people who thus far had kept everyone fed and happy; at least he heard no complaints about the cooking.

Gabrielle did not buy the fake smile. “You must keep your strength.” She spoke like a mother hen. “We will be on the road soon enough and there may be slim pickings on the road.” The woman had never been on the road, but she paid attention to the stories she heard.

“Winter in Venice can be rather slim pickings, too, but you seem to manage well,” he said more honestly.

“Umph.” She acknowledged that compliment with a grunt and slight nod of her head. The stern look on her face, however, did not change. “Eat.” She insisted and turned away.

“I will.” Giovanni smiled again, holding tight to the bowl, and he thought to himself that yes, these were good people, and as close to normal as he could get in the Don Giovanni circus. He turned and went back into the wagon. He closed the door and put the bowl on his desk where he had no intention of touching it.

Before bed, as was his habit, he pulled out the lockbox and counted their coins.  They had precious little to start the season. He thought back to the day his father died, or the next day. He remembered what his father called his emergency backup stash. He hid it in the wallboards behind the bed and said you can never be too careful with thieves. He also said he never had any intention of using that backup money if he could help it. It was there to give him peace of mind, knowing if they got robbed that would not be the end of the circus.

Giovanni found the place in the wall easily enough. He found three gold pieces, a small bag of silver coins, and a larger bag of coppers. He knew then he could keep the circus going, but as he looked in the lockbox he was not so sure.

His mind turned to all the new acts and paused on Vader the knife thrower’s wife Edwina. Quite the contrast to her angry husband, she was a lovely, gentle woman. That may have been why he had the occasional streak of jealousy. Even so, Giovanni could not help himself thinking about her, but after a few moments of fantasy, he figuratively slapped his own face. He admitted that he had a problem with that sort of thing. The women always seemed willing enough; but he needed to always remember that his circus people were strictly off limits. He did not dare. The circus was like a family. It was important and better to think of family. It was one element that made it all work together. Edwina was, in that sense, something like a sister to him, and to violate her in that way would be like a strange sort of incest. He would never do that. He needed to never even think that way, no matter what.

He looked again at his bed, which he could just see behind the curtain and thought only of sleep. He was dog tired, and he remembered Corriden took the dog act with him. He had horses, and a bear. So maybe he was bear tired.

Giovanni put one hand to his head. He was eighteen, not thirty-eight. He had no business having such a stress headache. He needed sleep. In fact, he got in dive position when there came another knock at the door. He plopped back into his desk chair.

“Come in,” he hollered, too tired to rise. Oberon the dwarf marched in, while Sabelius the strong man removed his hat and came in slowly with his head bent to keep from hitting his head on the ceiling. “Where is Madam Figiori?” Giovanni asked.

“Sleeping, probably.” Oberon spoke and Giovanni sighed with jealousy. “But she said you were going to need help tonight, so here we are.”

“My saviors.” He often referred to them in that way.

“So what’s up, boss?” Oberon asked.

“More Corriden sabotage?” Sabelius suggested. Besides looking like an ugly human, an appearance that seemed to get exaggerated in the firelight at night, he really was too bright for a half troll. They all knew Corriden and the Corriden Circus was out to get them, and maybe shut down their chances to make a fresh beginning. Porto and Berlio had been caught several times trying to steal things, including one attempt to steal the smaller circus show tent. Berlio, the magician, and his wife Priscilla got caught around the chuck wagon. Fortunately, Madam Figiori was able to check with some real magic. If they intended to poison the food in any way, they did not have the chance.

“No,” Giovanni said. “Just guard the door so I can get some sleep.” He pleaded.

“Don’t think so.” Oberon shook his head. “Madam said something about a girl and the night watch. Could have been a girl on the night watch, but I suppose they don’t put girls on that duty. Maybe we are supposed to watch a girl in the night, or the girl might watch us, or something.”

“We’ll keep our eyes and ears open.” Sabelius interrupted and backed carefully from the wagon, reaching in with one enormous hand and hauling Oberon after him. The door closed softly.

“Thank you Lord,” Giovanni breathed with a quick look to the ceiling. He dived into the bed and it was only then that he realized he was too twisted inside to pass out. A moment later it was too late as he heard a sharp, panic-driven knock on the door. He got up and answered it this time, not at all surprised to find himself pushed out of the way by a young woman who immediately shut the door, and then turned and opened it a crack to peek out.

“Don Vincenzo Giovanni, at your service,” he said, adding a little bow to his words.

“Hello.” The girl granted him a quick acknowledgement, barely turning her head before gluing her eye right back to the crack in the doorway. Giovanni dutifully drew the curtains and closed the shutters. Then he could not resist bending over her to peek over her shoulder. She smelled sweet, but then clearly she was a noble lady of the highest quality. Giovanni would have expected no less.

“Search them all.” A man shouted.

“Leave that alone.” Giovanni heard Oberon. “Help! Thieves!”

“Don’t open that!” That sounded like Piccolo, the juggler and practical joker. Giovanni imagined him tempting the night watch. Sure enough, he heard the growl of the bear, a man’s scream, and the sound of crashing like men in flight.

“No.” That voice sounded extremely deep and close. Sabelius stood by the door. “Don Giovanni is resting. You will not disturb him.”

“Orders.” The man spoke with a shaky voice. “Got to look in them all.” Sabelius was showing his more troll and ogre qualities by the torchlight. With his great size, he was not one to bump into after dark.

“No,” Sabelius spoke again.

“Quickly,” Giovanni whispered, grabbed the girl by the shoulders and pulled her into the wagon, closing the door tight in the process. “Can you act?”

“What?” The girl looked more confused than frightened.

“Do you want to be caught?” he asked.

“No, please.” The seriousness of her predicament came over her and she realized this young man was presently her only hope.

“Then I need you to play act,” he said. “Give me a good performance.”

“What?” She looked confused again.

“Take your dress off.” he said, peeling off his shirt in the process.

“What?”

As Giovanni pulled his head from beneath his shirt he felt the slap of her hand across his face. He grabbed her shoulders, stared into her eyes, and carefully enunciated. “It-is-only-pretend.” He spoke in his most directorial voice and saw the light go off in her eyes, as they heard a knock on the door.

“Don Giovanni?” Sabelius spoke softly as if wanting to wake him, but not wanting to wake him to do it.