Of Spirits and Circuses 2/10
Pop's Arcade and Circus was setting up when the Monkeemobile pulled up. Mike got out of the car and blinked, the sunshine harsh on his returning vision.
As Peter got out of the driver's seat, he noticed Mike's expression and wordlessly handed him a pair of sunglasses.
Mike slid them on with a grateful smile and looked up at the Big Top. "So I'm guessing we find the manager's office."
"It'll be in or beside the Big Top," Micky said. "Probably around the back." He made a "come-on" gesture and started heading that way.
The others followed him and when they were nearly there, Mike asked, "So how do you know where the manager's office is?"
"Most circuses are laid out the same," Micky answered distractedly. "I used to work in a circus when I was younger." He broke into a smile. "Here we are."
Micky pushed the door open and saw the office was empty. "Let's look in the Big Top."
As they walked into the tent, Davy frowned as Micky began to hum. A few steps forward, and humming turned into soft singing.
"It's great, it's terrific, it's the best show on earth--"
Davy stopped in his tracks, his jaw slowly lowering.
The others turned to him. "Davy," Mike asked, frowning.
"Circus Boy," Davy breathed.
Micky's shoulders stiffened.
Davy stepped forward, eyes on Micky. "I'm right, aren't I? That's how you know so much about--"
"May I help you gentlemen?"
The Monkees turned to see a slightly older man with dark hair fix them with a piercing stare.
Mike stepped forward. "Are you Pop?"
"I am Victor," the man said. "What do you want with Pop?"
"We're, ah..." Mike rubbed the back of his neck. "We're looking for work."
"Then you can leave," Victor said. "There is no work to be had. We can not afford to pay more performers."
"We're not performers," Peter put in. "Well...not circus performers. We're here to see if you need any grifters."
Victor's mouth opened, but an older gentleman walked up behind him. "Victor."
His mouth closed and he inclined his head in a gesture of respect, backing up.
"You must pardon Victor," the older gentleman said. "I am Pop. You said something about grifting?"
Mike nodded. "We're in between jobs at the moment. We saw you were in town and thought we might give y'all a hand settin' up."
"That's very kind of you," Pop said. "You say you're in between jobs. What do you do?"
"We're a rock and roll group, sir," Mike said. "The Monkees."
A growl was all the warning Mike had before a knife sailed through the air and took his hat off his head, coming to rest in the post behind them.