I spent a lot of time on the road running from something or other. This time, it was disgust that drove me away. Things come full circle. In my youth, I had been the taker, the abuser, the ambitious bully. But the cruelty and exploitation that I had witnessed from the Adler Circus broke me. What makes it worse, is that I had willingly participated in the exploitation of those kind and gentle beasts and was too weak to abstain from the alcohol that hindered my better judgement. It was my fault Rosie and three other people lost their lives, yet I let Clyde take the blame.

I set out walking West from Cincinnati on a hot muggy stretch of highway, past the urban center where cornfields lined either side of the road.  I was thumbing for a ride when a young man in a shiny black Model T Ford pulled off the road just ahead of me. I wiped the tears from my eyes and jogged to the car carrying my small suitcase and jacket in either arms. 

“You need a ride, old timer?” the young man said, tipping his plaid fedora and smiling. “I’m heading as far as St Louis.” The boy couldn’t be older than 20 and had a small terrier in the passenger seat.

“A ride would be much appreciated,” I said opening the door and tossing my suitcase in the back.

“Get down, Sparky. He’s a good dog, he just likes to hang his head out the window. My name’s Ted Bass and you?” he said, holding out his hand to be shaken.

“Harvey Jones. I’m headin’ west as far as you can take me,” I said, wiping the sweat from my brow.

The kid asked me if I liked sports, or if I was married, and I simply responded, “Yeah, I used to be married and had a regular life, but I come on hard times.”

“Yeah, everybody has, pal. Oh my God, Did you hear about the terrible circus accident yesterday? They say an elephant went crazy and killed three people. It got loose because the trainer got drunk and forgot to chain it up.”

“I hung my head down and said I hadn’t heard a thing.

“Oh yeah, they fired the clown that played the fiddle for the elephants because he got drunk. The government is threatening to have the whole thing shut down for safety reasons.”

“That’s terrible.” I said, looking out the window to avoid his gaze.

The kid was heading to St Louis to work in his uncle’s printing press. He talked the entire time and asked me countless questions. That night we arrived in the city. I asked him to let me off near the rail yards. He was interested to hear more about my younger days, but I omitted the last part, of being in a circus. I thanked him for the ride and we went our separate ways. 

I slept beneath the stars in a wooded area near the tracks. Early the next morning, I hopped a train heading west. I found an empty grain container and hid in the far corner. The countryside sped by. I pulled out my fiddle and played to keep myself occupied. 

During the night it got cold. I shivered in the corner and tried to drape myself with my extra clothing, but the cold metal sucked the heat away from my body. I nodded off with a restless sleep.

Sometime early the next morning, the train began to slow down. I quickly gathered my clothes, fiddle, and packed them into my suitcase. Once it had slowed down enough, I leapt to the ground and rolled into a gully. I was banged up and scratched a little, but not hurt bad. 

I looked around and saw nothing but dry prairie and wheat fields. In the distance, I saw a gasoline station, and other small buildings. I followed the tracks to a small village named Montezuma, Kansas. I still had 38 bucks left in my pocket. 

The shakes had returned. I needed a drink more than I needed food. I entered a local saloon and promised myself that I would only have one drink and leave.

I sat at the bar and ordered a shot of whiskey. The bartender was nice and asked where I was from. I felt comfortable and decided to have a second drink, which because a 3rd, a 4th,… I don’t remember much after that. I became Mr Loose Lips. I remember meeting up with two other men who seemed friendly at the time, but something was wrong.

For some brief moment, I remember waking up in darkness. My body was aching and sore. My shirt stunk of vomit. My left eye was swollen shut. I can only guess that I had tripped and fell. I was lying in a field with nothing more than shrub brush and rocks around me. The wind picked up from the west and a storm was approaching. I was still drunk, and shivering from the cold. In that lonely field, I thought of my miserable life and those who I had done wrong. I prayed for the Lord to forgive me and asked what I could do to redeem myself. I closed my eyes and held the disk tightly against my forehead as raindrops began to fall. There was a flash of lightning and a roll of thunder that sent me away.

I opened my eyes and was sitting on the floor of a small cramped jail cell along with several other negroes. One of the young men was crying, while the rest sat in silence. I had no idea why they were in jail. I listened to the others lament about being sentenced to be hanged. 

I looked at my black hands and sighed. “Thank you, Lord,” I whispered. I got up off the ground and walked over to the young feller and put my arm around his shoulder where he cried. The Lord had given me an answer.

The next morning, I sat in silence. The man named Jim shook my shoulder.

“What has gotten into you, Jasper?”

“I suppose I haven’t been feeling myself lately.” 

“You sound different. You be talkin’ like the white folk.”

What do you think they’re going to do with us?”

We’s likely to be sold to the highest bidder any day now.”

I sat back against the wall of the cell. I didn’t have the shakes or the craving for a drink. I pulled out the disk and thought that God had answered my prayers. This was my chance for redemption.

 Later that day, me, Jim, and five other unfortunate men were taken from our cells and sold to a local slave trader named John Anderson. He laughed and joked with the jailer, but to us, he was cold and emotionless and treated us the same way the elephant trainers treated the elephants. We were shackled in chains around our ankles and led out into the bright sunlight. The town’s folk were dressed in clothes much different from what I was used to wearing. My comrades hung their heads in silence as we were loaded onto a wagon pulled by two horses. There was a cold chill in the air as we rode along a bumpy dirt road past trees filled with bright yellow and orange leaves. I sighed and pondered my life as a captive beast.