By Peter B. and Art Intelli
Chapter Three: The Training
The first few weeks would be harder than I could ever have imagined. And for the first few days I felt a little embarrassed about the Collar locked around my neck, wondering what people were thinking when they saw it. But no one even batted an eye. Maybe they were used to seeing it. Maybe they had too much respect for Viktor to think disparagingly about anything he did. So pretty quickly, it became just part of me, and I was proud to be wearing it.
Every day, it felt like I was moving from one task to the next without rest. The carnival was always on the move, traveling from town to town, setting up and tearing down with a kind of clockwork precision. I was no longer just the lonely orphan — I was part of the team, working with the roustabouts to unload crates, set up tents, and make sure everything was ready for Showtime.
The work was brutal. My hands were always raw from the ropes and wood, and my back ached from lifting heavy boxes or pushing the wagons into position. But through all the pain, Viktor never let up.
