{ W h o } Marjan and Gladys Cameron { W h a t } gun moll doesn't look all that great on a résumé { W h e r e } Boston, Massachusetts { W h e n } Thursday { Rating } PG
Gladys was sick of New England, and especially sick of Boston. Laying low had never suited her, even less so now that Mort wasn't around to distract her. Broke and stir-crazy, she'd slipped into the carnival with the goal of relieving her boredom for an hour or two in a setting where no one was likely to notice her.
After wandering the midway and reading the posters for the star attractions, Gladys found herself with a new goal. The carnival was her ticket out of Boston. She just needed to convince the owner of the outfit to hire her. None of these people looked very bright, Gladys thought, and the acts were doubtless all fakes. Everyone knew sideshow 'mermaids' were just creepy monkey torsos taxidermied onto fish tails. And performers with names like Edwin the Elusive or the Stupendous What's-his-name didn't exactly inspire awe. How hard could it be to get a job?
Dressed in a drab cloth coat and an out-of-style hat that covered her hair, Gladys asked around until someone pointed out the Czerwinski in charge of Czerwinski's carnival. She didn't for one second believe this woman was really the owner, but that didn't faze her in the least; obviously Marjan Czerwinski was the real power behind the throne, so to speak. So Gladys strode right up to her.
"Hello there. My name is Cameron," she said without hesitation. She'd had plenty of idle time to think up a a fake identity, after all.
"I'm looking for work and I heard you were hiring." Which wasn't strictly true, but Cameron reasoned that a woman used to dealing with people who habitually called themselves 'Magnificent' or 'Soul-Stirring' was used to a bit of wishful thinking.