Don't Sweat the Small Stuff Read Free Page A

Shrewd. I met them up in the office, Judy Schiller and Virginia Crouse.”
    “Schiller and Crouse?”
    “Yeah. You nailed ’em already. I got the impression there’s no first names with these two.
Mrs.
Schiller and
Mrs.
Crouse. They’re dead serious.”
    “Sounds like a legal firm. Schiller and Crouse.”
    “Or a comedy team. But there’s nothing funny about them. I don’t think they’d let Moe cheat anybody, but you never know. I’ll deal with that later.”
    “So your job is just to sit in the office and think? Come up with ideas?” What kind of a job was that?
    Out of the corner of my eye I could see his sly smile.
    “James?”
    “There’s a little breaking-in time that I wanted to talk to you about. I think you’re going to like it.”
    I knew I shouldn’t listen. But he is my best friend, so I waded in. “Breaking-in? What kind of breaking-in?”
    “Well, it involves getting to know a little more about the operation. You see, there’s a Moe Show just about three miles from our apartment, and—”
    “A what?” I took my eyes off the road for a minute, giving him a look of surprise. Then it hit me. Moe Show. The carnival had a string of accidents in just the past year, where rides jumpedthe tracks, and in two or three instances riders were thrown from their seats. And I was pretty sure there had been at least one death. At least one. I’d read about it or seen it on TV. A dangerous carnival to say the least.
    “A Moe Show. Moe’s carnival.”
    “Oh.” I wasn’t sure James remembered or even knew about the accidents. The death. Maybe if I’d said something then, but I didn’t.
    “We’ve been invited.”
    “To what?”
    “To the carnival. It’s in this lot beside a mall, and—”
    “Why?”
    “They want me to see it firsthand. Experience the rides, the concessions, and …” he hesitated. Whenever James hesitates, there’s trouble.
    “What, James?”
    “They want me—us—to spend three nights in a trailer. You know, mingle with the rest of the guys, so I get the feel of what’s going on.”
    “Oh, jeez.” I almost stopped the car and threw him out. Sometimes I don’t think James has a brain in his head. “You’re going to camp out at a carnival? Do you think Angie Clark started that way? Do you think Agent Hot Pants had to spend three nights in a trailer to get her job?”
    “Listen, Skip, I was hoping that you’d—”
    “I’ll bet she didn’t.”
    “All I’m asking is—”
    “No.”
    “It would mean a lot, man, and—”
    “No.” Apparently he’d forgotten about our last “camp-out” at Reverend Preston Cashdollar’s revival meeting. Well, I hadn’t forgotten. “Come on, James. You do remember that we camped out in the truck when we had the fast-food concession atReverend Cashdollar’s revival tent meeting. You do remember that, don’t you? Almost got us killed.” That had been a surreal experience. “I’m not doing that again.”
    “Compadre—”
    “Tell me that Schiller and Crouse are staying for the weekend. Tell me that Angie—Agent Hot Pants is going to stay for the weekend.”
    “I don’t know if she—”
    “Who is she, James? A carnie? Like the rest of them, a high school dropout? Someone who shills for suckers like you?”
    “When did I ever shill for suckers?”
    “That sounds like what you’re doing to me.”
    “Dude—”
    “Come on, James. This is a carnival. A bunch of misfits who can’t do anything else. Run a ride, run a game, run a scam.”
    James took a deep breath. “Skip, I’m trying to earn money for a new truck.” He closed his eyes and rubbed them with his thumbs. “A new truck to replace the truck that exploded when
you
threw that bomb into the parking lot.”
    “Don’t you even start with that crap. I saved your life, James. If that bomb had gone off inside, we wouldn’t even need a—” It hadn’t been a pleasant evening.
    “Skip. I
need
a truck. I need you to—”
    “No.”
    James was quiet. I