I was on a mission to talk to him. Grabbing the last glistening cream cheese Danish from the deluxe catering table, I started his way. Only to be nearly plowed down by Thurston’s pixie-small but high-energy admin assistant as she waltzed in to make an announcement. She clapped her hands for attention, and shouted, “All Call in twenty minutes. All Call in the big top in twenty. Everyone—crew, performers—should be there. Orders of the boss. Spread the word.” Someone was getting to like the lingo. And she left the tent buzzing in her wake. An All Call was rare once the season got under way. Announcements tended to be minor and spread by word of mouth or flyers tacked onto a board at the back of the mess. Getting a message to everyone was easy enough; the circus was an efficient place to spread news . . . and gossip. As I knew firsthand. Sam’s eyes met mine, and he got up and ambled over to me.
