Let's hear it for the brave and beautiful Lynette Sharps and the undefeated Sammy Slinger.

I gestured to my aunt and uncle and stepped to the side as the spotlight illuminated their faces.

Aunt Lynette gracefully stepped down from the target she posed in front of,

pulling the knives firmly out of the wood and placing one between her teeth. Uncle Sammy grabbed

her by the waist with one hand, waving to the crowd with the other. The two bowed in unison and

walked off stage. Aunt Lynette winked at me as she passed by. I stepped back into the spotlight and glanced at the underwhelming crowd. The tent was noticeably less full than last week's show. A pang of worry registered in my gut, but I grinned through it. I thanked those who did attend and ushered the entire cast, my

misfit family, back onto the stage for the final curtain call. After the show, I made my way

through the smoke-filled den, where the performers were laughing and drinking. What they were

celebrating was beyond me. Maybe they didn't know the whole show was about to go under,

maybe they didn't care. Ticket sales were the lowest they'd ever been, and with failed

crops the last three years in a row, the farm was bound to be repossessed soon. I wandered around,

looking for paw, and started bracing myself for the lecture I was about

to get about the ticket sales, or lack of them, supposed. I scanned the corners of the room

and spotted his dark outline next to the bar storage. In front of him stood a man I'd never seen

before. I looked him up and down, noting the custom fit of his suit. He looked like some big shot

from the city. Maybe he wanted to buy the farm. It wasn't the worst idea, given the turn

of events in the past few years. The man nodded to me, alerting my father to my presence.

Charlie! My father wrapped his arm around my shoulder in an unusually

cheerful way. I want you to be Mr. Joyce. He's done us a solid and secured a new act for the show.

It's going to be huge. His enthusiasm was taken out on the meaty part of my shoulder, and I winced as he squeezed a bit too hard.

I extended my hand towards Mr. Joyce, taking note of his sharp mustache and pale, empty eyes. Nice to meet you, sir. Charlie,

the pleasure is all mine. His smile exposed a bright gold tooth that stood in place of his left

...