Many boys used to threaten they'd run away and join the circus, but Scott was the only one who actually did it. He was from an orphanage and understandably hated it there. So, when the circus rolled into town, he snuck out the fist chance he got and followed it out of town when it packed up.
The circus was always in need of a few boys to help clean up and make sure costumes and props were all in place for the big acts. Circus folk are nomads by trade and so are bad with organization and planning. Scott fit in well as he was eager to please and so good-natured that even the surliest of the hobo clowns never got too cross at him.
One day, the circus pulled into a small town. It was like any other town except it was a criminal offense to hold a circus there. They pulled up on the edge of town and threw everyone in the county jail, even Scott.
The next morning, they went before the judge. Scott begged him not to lock up the only family he had ever known and make him an orphan again. The judge was sympathetic but firm to the law, and although he let the circus folk go with a warning he remanded Scott to the county orphanage. He waved goodbye and off he went to the orphanage. Again.
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That's the story Scott always told us. Nobody ever believed a word of it. Who could? Mostly he just got beat up as the low man on the totem pole. But after the bullies had left I would go and fix him up and he would just smile at me knowingly. Then one day he was gone. No one ever knew what became of him, but I like to think he made his way back to that circus he always talked about. Or one like it.
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