Free The Bear in a Muddy Tutu by Cole Alpaugh Page B

still holding what looked to be a .38 Special out in front of him, point ing it at the dead tiger. Like frightened animals after the danger has passed , people began to pop up from dark corners, behind tent flaps, and from around the sides of trucks.
    The gunman strode confident ly up to his kill and nudged the flaccid beast with the toe of his right shoe. The bullet had pierced the old tiger’s pelt just behind the shoulder, entering its chest cavity and creating a large red bloom on the fur over its heart. The gunman looked up and greeted the cowering circus folk with his best, most friendly and all-knowing smile, as they emerged , hollow-eyed , like zombies from the grave.
    “My name is Reverend Billy Wayne, ” he said in his best, most God-like voice. “I am God and you have all been saved. ”
    Acapulco shuffled on to the next window and pointed the bottle of Windex.
     

Chapter 11
    Billy Wayne Hooduk acted like he knew exactly what he was doing and exactly where he was leading the caravan , as the circus rolled out of the Lucky Dollar parking lot. They left their dead behind.
    Step number eighteen in How t o Become a Cult Leader i n 50 Easy Steps : “Always act as if you know exactly what you are doing. The more precarious the situation, the more stone-cold absolute you must be in handling the predicament. Ambivalence breeds contempt; confidence is king! ”
    Billy Wayne Hooduk puffed out his chest , feeling the slight breeze tickle the few hairs not sweat - pasted to his scalp . If his mother could see him in his shining moment, she’d be reminded of the statuesque men adorning the covers of the romance novels she occasionally read in binges. The idea of ripping open his shirt danced through his mind on wings of adrenaline , and he would have done it if not for the seventy pounds of dimpled fat clinging to him from the neck down , chapter on Successfat or not .
    Billy Wayne’s first pronouncement was a simple nine words completing the chain of events triggered by the cannon blast . He stood at the edge of the spotlights shining toward Enrique’s missed net, then took a casual sideways step into their full brightness . “I am God and you have all been saved. ”
    After the police had finished interviewing enough people to confirm it had all been a tragic accident, they had given them a perfectly clear and unmistakable order: “Pull up stakes and get the fuck out of our town. ”
    Billy Wayne re- emerged from the rear entrance of the Lucky Dollar Casino with his Samsonite in one hand and his gui de bo ok in the other. He strode up to the lead truck’s passenger door and climbed in as if he owned it , leaving his Dodge Dart behind like a rusty, unwanted toy . He relished the idea that he now had the power to send someone to collect it later. Billy Wayne made his second declaration from high atop the black pavement of the parking lot : “We turn left. ”
    And they did.
    The remaining loyalists — some had grabbed their belongings and fled into the brightly lit A t lantic City night — abided Reverend Billy Wayne’s order and turned onto Ventnor Avenue, slowly rolling northeast up the narrow strip to Atlantic Avenue. They followed the giant green signs toward the Expressway, which took them west, away from the glow of the city. They exited onto a north traveling road, and Billy Wayne watched for signs toward West Tuckerton, where he knew they’d find the road to take them to their new home.
    Great Bay Boulevard was a pavement made of shells and polished stones that led travelers almost due south, over dozens of canals and tiny islands, across the marshes and protected wetlands. The road spliced a nearly prehistoric, yet bland , ecosystem of bubbling mud and rotting flora toward a piece of New Jers ey that few people ever saw , despite the well -ma intained and smooth access.
    The black eastern sky over the ocean had broken to purple, as the caravan made a final left turn off the boulevard. The drivers of