Everything hurt. Copper penny taste filled my mouth. Stroking my chest, a man-eating tiger scraped its raspy steaming tongue up the side of my face. Good, I thought, I’m home. This is a doozy of a hangover. I nestled into my cat’s inviting orange striped fur.

Suddenly JoJo screaming, the squeal of the truck’s brakes, sparks on the highway, my memories slammed into me. I lurched upright. Poe rubbed a concerned head against my side. Wincing from a couple of bruised ribs, I surveyed the wreckage. JoJo was driving the big cats trailer with me as shotgun. We were lead vehicle followed by the small animals, props, talent, staff, and clowns. We had just stopped for the mid trip watering and gas at the rest stop. God damned JoJo could never handle his Everclear.

Red light wailing ambulance pulled up to the shoulder. I see a handful of police cars. The torn grill of the big cat truck flashed a twisted grin. A white Animal Control van menaced by the side of the highway. Poe paced around me protectively.

“Ang, it’s bad,” Tootsie, aka Arielle the High Flying Angel of the Trapeze, called out to me.

Holding one arm folded over her chest, she pushed away the EMT and climbed down the embankment. With her good arm she held a stuffed hotdog plushie. I tensed. One of my animals was in danger. Tootsie gave me a quick rundown. Small animals were fine, the crew were okay just banged up except for stupid JoJo who already on his way to the ER.

“Hemingway is missing. Heard over the police scanner that a tiger has been spotted over at a development off Exit 3,” Tootsie said petting Poe. I heard Wollencraft their mom howling in despair from the trailer. I knew what I had to do. Tootsie tossed me Hemingway’s favorite toy.

“Can you give me a distraction, Toots? I gotta go get my boy,” I whispered to her. “Put Poe back before anyone gets itchy trigger fingers.”

Burying my bloody face into Poe’s side, I left him know I got this. Tootsie gathered his fur in one hand and started going into a Sarah Bernhardt swoon. I backed away all nonchalence.

“Oh no not one of her spells not now. I gotta find her pills!” I shouted.

My ribs blazed as I beelined for the clown car. I gave Butter Bean the head jester a knowing look and a nod in Tootsie’s direction. Battered but always down to clown, Butter and the rest of her boys joined in the act beseeching the emergency workers for help. Throwing his arms around a cop, Twist sobbed flailing a string of multicolored silk scarves. Norman offered Animal Control a rubber chicken.

Flicking his tail, Poe flopped on his belly to enjoy the antics. Stuffed hotdog on my lap, I reversed Butter’s Suburban and pulled into the last exit. Hemingway my 700 pound scaredy cat hold on I’m coming.