A stormy night.

April 4, Glenwood.

Only the show didn't go on, after all.
At nine o'clock last night the local police came and ordered the show to stop and the public to go home.
The storm had gotten worse and the rain heavier. Fridman went out to help with taking down the tent, and the rain poured. I sat in the trailer watching, fascinated, as it pounded the trucks in front of me, the scene illuminated by the circus' floodlights, like a movie set. Some of the crew wore raincoats, the rest were soaked and still they worked on, as they have before and will again, without a word of complaint.
Then the rain stopped, abruptly, and all was calm.
That's when I noticed the siren. It went on and on and the crew went on working. I remember Casey, the lion tamer, walking by, not hurrying; he walked back moments later, at the same pace. And still the siren went on, and all was calm. There was no rain, and I could see the wind had died too.
Then it all started again. In the morning the radio station said a tornado had touched down nearby. There's nothing we can do at the circus if a twister were to hit us, no time to go anywhere, and where would we go?
There was also flooding last night. The performers' trailers were parked in a low-lying area and water rose quickly as the storm went on (we were parked away near the entrance, safe.) They moved as soon as the tent was down; water reached the door in Sara's house. As she drove through she got stuck in front of our trailer and her engine woke me up as it idled.
I watched as one of the elephants was hitched to her truck and hauled it off slowly, a bizarre sight in the stormy night.