Free Water For Elephants by Sara Gruen

contents, and drains it in a single gulp. A waiter emerges from nowhere and refills it.
    "I'll do just about anything. But if possible I'd like to work with animals."
    "Animals," he says. "Did you hear that, August? The lad wants to work with animals.
    You want to carry water for elephants, I suppose?"
    Sara Gruen
    Earl's brow creases. "But sir, we don't have any—"
    "Shut up!" shrieks Uncle Al, leaping to his feet. His sleeve catches the snifter and knocks it to the carpet. He stares at it, his fists clenched and face growing darker and darker.
    Then he bares his teeth and screams a long, inhuman howl, bringing his foot down on the glass again and again and again.
    There's a moment of stillness, broken only by the rhythmic clacking of ties passing beneath us. Then the waiter drops to the floor and starts scooping up glass.
    Uncle Al takes a deep breath and turns to the window with his hands clasped behind him.
    When he eventually turns back to us, his face is once again pink. A smirk plays around the edges of his lips.
    "I'm going to tell you how it is, Jacob Jankowski" He spits my name out like something distasteful. "I've seen your sort a thousand times. You think I can't read you like a book? So what's the deal—did you and Mommy have a fight? Or maybe you're just looking for a little adventure between semesters?"
    "No, sir, it's nothing like that."
    "I don't give a damn what it is—even if I gave you a job on the show, you wouldn't survive. Not for a week. Not for a day. The show is a well-oiled machine, and only the toughest make it. But then you wouldn't know anything about tough, would you, Mr.
    College Boy?"
    He glares at me as though challenging me to speak. "Now piss off," he says, waving me away. "Earl, show him the door. Wait until you actually see a red light before chucking him off—I don't want to catch any heat for haningMommy's widdle baby. "

    "Hang on a moment, Al," says August. He's smirking, clearly amused. "Is he right? Are you a college boy?"
    I feel like a mouse being bounced between cats. "I was."
    "And what did you study? Something in the fine arts, perhaps?" His eyes gleam in mockery. "Romanian folk dancing? Aristotelian literary criticism? Or perhaps—
    M.r.Jankowski—you completed a performance degree on the accordion?"
    Water for E l e p h a n ts
    "I studied veterinary sciences."
    His mien changes instantly, utterly. "Vet school? You're a vet?" "Not exactly."
    "What do you mean, 'not exactly'?" "I never wrote my final exams."
    "Why not?" "I just didn't."
    "And those final exams, those were in your final year?" "Yes."
    "What college?" "Cornell."
    August and Uncle Al exchange glances.
    "Marlena said Silver Star was off, " says August. "Wanted me to get the advance man to arrange for a vet. Didn't seem to understand that the advance man was gone out in advance, hence the name."
    "What are you suggesting?" says Uncle Al. "Let the kid have a look in the morning."
    "And where do you propose we put him for tonight? We're already past capacity." He snatches his cigar from the ashtray and taps it on the edge. "I suppose we could just send him out on the flats."
    "I was thinking more along the lines of the ring stock car," says August.
    Uncle Al frowns. "What? With Marlena's horses?" "Yes."
    "You mean in the area where the goats used to be? Isn't that where that little shit sleeps—oh, what's his name?" he says, snapping his fingers. "Stinko?
    Kinko? That clown with the dog?"
    "Precisely," smiles August.
    AUGUST LEADS ME BACK through the men's bunk cars until we're standing on a small platform facing the back of a stock car. "Are you sure-footed, Jacob?" he inquires graciously.
    "I believe so," I answer. Sara Gruen
    "Good," he says. Without further ado, he leans forward, catches hold of something around the side of the stock car, and climbs nimbly to the roof.
    "Jesus Christ!" I yell, looking in alarm first at the point where August disappeared, and then down at the bare coupling and ties that race