Whistling happily, Tepic sauntered past the old site of the Steamworks and turned to corner to drop by at his Carnival Tent, which wasn’t there. He stood, astonished, mouth dropping open as the absence of a massive red and white stripped tent slowly penetrated his understanding. He glanced wildly around, in the hopes that the 80 foot by 50 foot by 60 foot heavy canvas structure might be hidden behind the small piles of crates dotted around the lot….
Dazed, he wandered from one end to the other, occasionally picking up a bit of packing crate, an old rug, an empty can, just in case the tent was concealed underneath. The he spotted the still, bubbling away to itself, and a note pinned to the tap. Sidling up to it, as if it’s contents might be dangerous, he glanced down and began to read….
“Great grog, we left enough to drown your sorrows. Sorry about the tent, we need it for the Summer tour, then we will be off South for the Winter season. Thanks for keeping it in good condition, and see you in a few years when we are back this way. PS we have taken the boxing kit with us, will make a good side show, will cut you in for a percentage of the profit when we get back.”
He looked at the scrawled signature at the bottom, and after a few false starts decided it must be The Ring Master, Sitting on the stool by the still he put the sampling cup under the tap and drew himself a dram, drank it down and poured a second. Leaning back against the comfortably hot metal he sighed, it had been nice while it lasted, but things came and went, and he could look forward to a nice windfall in a couple of years, so it wasn’t all bad. There was a lot of wood lying around, enough to put up a shack near the old dock, so they would have somewhere to store anything anyone wanted keeping safe for a bit. There would be a lot of space between the dock and the road, be interesting to see what would become of that, and you never knew, could be new opportunities!